#also v models are small. to me. i hope you agree.

[taio-kyo]

Ultrakill brainrot doodles because tomorrow is my bday and I'm allowed to indulge :]

S-0 scares me.

[l0v3-qu4rtz]

Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Model!Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. (very badly written) SMUT. MDNI, thank you. very poor description of model shows, talks of lingerie, cursing, rough sex (?), light choking and hair pulling, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, teasing derek at the end. Kinda proofread ? Not rlly.

A/N: Hiyo, so i posted this like a long time ago (a month ago) on AO3 but I just decided to post this on here now because why nott ?? Lemme know what you think, and if I missed any warning please lemmeee knowww, also should I make this a series ???!!!! <333

You stood behind the curtains backstage, anxiously peeking through, towards the crowd. You look down at your phone, "on my way, I'll be there in 30 minutes"  It's been 40 minutes, where is he ? you knew dating an FBI agent that his schedule was gonna be busy but you've been telling him about the show for weeks, he promised he would make it. You were out in 5 minutes and still didn't spot him. You were tempted to call him, ask him where he was, but decided against it. Your manager was rushing you to get in position to walk out but you were stalling as much as you could in hopes that Reid would magically show up. 4 minutes now.

YOU: Where are you ? I'm out in 4 minutes.

SPENCE: Im here, love. Backrow.

You felt your heart coo at the petame. You heard your manager yell for you to get in position for one last time, you rushed into position, handing our phone over to your manager. You specifically asked Reid to come because it was a lingerie fashion show. Think Victoria Secret, You knew Spencer would go crazy upon seeing you in lace and ribbons, you were giddy with excitement as you think about walking past him, you knew what he was risking coming to your shows so you wanted to make it all worth it. You heard the show director counting down as you take your robe off and adjust your hair and accessories. You put on your best poker face and start walk.

Walk, just walk. Look straight ahead, don't turn your head. Do not go looking for him. You repeated in your mind, each step you took making a direct impact with the runway. Your arms swaying back and forth, hips swaying. You were extra nervous, this was the first time Spencer finally agreed to come to one of your shows and your heart could've jumped out of your chest knowing this. You kept everything on beat, from your steps to your hip sways. Once you reached the end of the runway, you put your hand on your hip as you shift your weight onto one foot, flashing a smile occupied with a quick wink before turning around walking back. 

You finally notice Reid in the back row as he said, making direct eye contact with him for only a split second before looking forward again.

From Reids point of view, once you made eye contact with him, he knew he was done for. He attempted to keep his composure, legs crossed, his hand on his chin, but inside a small fire was lit inside him that only grew brighter and bigger with each step you took. As the show reached the end, and you did the final end walk with the rest of the models, Reid was completely captivated by your walk, the way your hair bounced with each walk, the way your hips swayed, how you walked in a perfect straight line. Spencer knew he had to get his hands on you, and it was a craving he had to satisfy as quick as possible. Backstage, you decided to just put your long coat over your robe as you gathered your belongings together and talk with your manager. 

"Oh by the way, heres your phone" He says as he pulls your phone out of his pocket. "You got some very interesting texts, lets just say"

You roll your eyes at his teasing remarks. You open your phone and see two messages from Spencer.

SPENCE: You knew what you were doing by inviting me to this show.

SPENCE: I'm waiting outside for you in the car.

You smile, biting your lip as you read the texts. You gather your stuff and say bye to your manager before heading out. You spot Reid's car and rush over to it, your slippers hitting the concrete. You enter the car, Reid giving a small smile as you enter. You greet him but receive no response. You furrow your eyebrows, watching his face, hes deep in thought and keeping his focus on the road. You reach over to softly touch his arm.

"Spence, what's wrong ?" Your voice is laced with worry. 

"Just wait til we get home" he growls in a low tone, his jaw clenching. Keeping his focus on the road. You feel your heart skip a beat at the comment and a soft pulse in-between your legs. You let out a soft and quiet moan, getting comfortable in your seat. Counting down the minutes before you reach home.

As soon as you enter through the front door of his apartment, You're started by the sound of Reid slamming the door, turning around, Reid attacks your lips. Practically ripping your coat off and tossing it, he pushes his lips into yours so forcefully you arch your back and lean back. Arms wrapped around his neck, you deepen the kiss, sticking your tongue in his mouth and tangling your hand into his curly hair. He pushes on the couch, unbuttoning his shirt, looking down at you with lust and desire in his eyes. "I can't wait to be in the bedroom, im taking you right here, right now" he growls "Take that robe off." He commands in a deep, sinful voice.

You undo the robe straps and pull the silk material down your shoulder. He lets out a low groan, quickly wrapping his hands around your neck, pushing you into the couch cushions. "You dirty whore" He whispers into your ear as he grabs the robe, yanking it onto the floor. "You kept that on on purpose, huh ?" he snarls. He lightly pushes your head into the cushion before standing up straight. "Take off my belt" You follow his command, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. But right as your about to unzip. he grabs a fistful of your hair and guides your eyes up towards his, "Use your teeth"

He lets go and you lower your head towards the zipper. Gripping the small slider, tasting the sour metal against your tongue, you start to unzip. Right as you let go, your hands trail up to the waistband of his jeans. Leaving him in only his boxers. you admire the tent of black fabric before starting to palm and lick his shaft through the fabric. Hearing his low groan and feeling his hand softly massage your scalp only motivates you even more. Spencer tries to hold himself back, but ultimately gives into temptation and pulls you away by your hair. "Fuck your teasing" He says in a low, impatient tone. He pulls his dick and shoves it into your mouth, beginning to fuck your face, relishing in the sounds of your gags and soft moans.

"That's it, take it like the good little girl you are" he praises, shoving his dick deep into your throat before allowing you to pull away. "lay on your back." He demands as you catch your breath. You immediately lay down on the couch as Spencer positions himself between your legs. He leans down and begins to leave love marks all over your jaw and neck "Beg for me" he growls lowly in your ear. You start whimpering and whining "Please Spence, fuck me... Use my body and show no mercy.." He grips your neck and snarls. "Use the right fucking name" You gasp quietly and whimper "Please.. Doctor.." He chuckles sinfully, reaching behind you and unclipping your bra with one hand.

He pushes himself up and takes a few moments to admire you "so gorgeous.." He whispers to himself before slipping his fingers under the band of your panties. With one swift motion, he rips them off. The tear echoing the apartment so does the small welp you let out. He wastes no time lining himself up with your opening. He waits there for a few seconds, enjoying the sight of you squirming under him. Without warning, he rams into you with full force knocking a lustful scream out of you. 

"Take It, love. You can take it." He whispers as he starts at a quick pace, slamming into you over and over again. You both are a moaning mess. You scratch down his arms and arch your back, each one of your moans getting louder and louder. He groans at the feeling of your nails peeling the first layer of his skin. He wraps his arms around you, his pace quickening by the second. "Doctor.. im.. gonna.." You can barely even finish your sentence as your breath is knocked out of you with every pound into your core. "Good girl, cum for me princess. That's it, bunny" he whispers in your ear, through moaning. You once again use your nails to scratch down from the back of neck all the way to his back as you let out a loud moan. You feel your whole body shake and your hole tighten around him. 

Spencer moans at the sudden squeeze, his thrusts becoming almost animalistic as he reaches his climax. He moans out your name as he finished inside you, letting his cum pour inside of you with one final thrust. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of being filled. Spencer pulls away from you, cupping your cheek "Are you okay, princess ? Did I hurt you ?" he asks through labored breathing. You shake your head, your mind still coming down from your high. Spencer lans up and kisses your forehead "You were such a good girl, baby. I love you so much." You feel your body slowly relaxing "I love you too, Spence" You both smile sweetly at each other and share a sweet, passionate kiss. 

 

The next morning at work, Spencer was grabbing coffee while reading his book. He was standing near the counter, just sipping on his coffee when Derek came up to him. Derek said a quick greeting to him while pouring a cup for himself. He was about to walk off when he noticed the red marks on the back of Reids neck, reaching over and pulling his collar down slightly. "Hey, what happened Reid ?" Morgan asks slightly concerned. Reid turns around covering it with his hand. "What ?" Reids cheeks flush red as he remembers where he got it from. Derek notices it, a wave of realization hitting it as he smirks and puts his hand on his shoulder. "My man" he says teasingly before walking away.

[poetrusicperry]

the poets go to ikea for the first time !!!

sooo this morning i made a list of things i have to take back to college with me and i always pack my stuff in these big, blue ikea bags which got me thinking about what the poets would be like in ikea bc i genuinely cannot do anything anymore without thinking about how the poets would do it HAHA. so here we are lol– i hope you guys like this !!(:

neil: something tells me that neil would really enjoy ikea. there are so many tiny little relics and fun decorations to browse as well as models/displays that are so nicely put together. just the right kinds of things to appease neil’s hidden juvenile wants (since he never got to experience a real childhood with his parents treating him like an adult since he was like 8). for example: all of the neat little stuffed animals and children’s bedroom sets that have all sorts of fun colors, etc. neil would appreciate the whole aesthetic of the store as well, liking how well-organized and modern it is inside. would definitely hide behind pieces of furniture in the displays to scare todd. also he is in charge of pushing the cart (that charlie is proudly sitting in bc he doesn’t want to “walk around everywhere”).

todd: like neil, todd appreciates the feel of the place bc he’s always had a bit of an interest in interior design, but is a little bit overwhelmed with just how big it is both outside and inside. desperately wants a djungelskog bear (which neil buys for him, bc of all the things neil struggles with, saying “no” to todd is certainly the biggest one). genuinely freaks out every single time neil scares him, even if he should see it coming after the second or third time. trails behind the group, (as he seemingly always does), taking special note of certain things he’d like to have in his own house one day (’:

knox: upon being invited, he seemed hesitant bc it’s just a furniture store, big whoop (”will there be girls there at least?”), but once they got there he was incredibly thrilled that there was a cafeteria and insisted that they go there both before shopping and after shopping (”look at how big the store is, don’t you think we’ll be hungry again by the time we’re done?”). definitely would rather be doing something else, but is just happy to be spending time around his pals (:

charlie: as previously stated, king of the cart. refuses to get out and walk because it’s “a big store and he’s tired.” neil doesn't mind pushing him, though. fully embraces the semi-chaotic feel of ikea during the weekend (so many people, which is not good for todd, but charlie full-on thrives). he would also insist on actually buying a few pieces of new furniture for his and cameron’s room (completely oblivious to the fact that he will actually need to assemble the pieces himself until they get down to the warehouse), even though it would most definitely be confiscated by mr. hager (”they’ll only confiscate it if they find it,” charlie says, to which cameron replies, “i’m pretty sure a full size vanity and bureau would be pretty easy to scope out, dumbass.” then they both flip each other off). he is definitely the reason knox decided to come after charlie begged him for at least ten minutes (”c’mon, knoxious, it’ll be fun! even if there aren’t girls there, you’ll still have me to look at (;”). offers to buy neil a couple of the stuffed animals he’s been eyeing bc he just wants to see his best friend happy. has to go back up and around the store to take note of numbers of the furniture he actually wants bc he didn’t understand how it worked (”all that time in the cart, wasted” and ”they should really have like an instruction manual before entering the store??”). and enlists meek’s help trying to find the right boxes of parts because “he’s smart like that”. still stays squished in the cart even when he puts all the boxes in it

meeks: just along for the ride, honestly. he just likes spending time with his buddies, but isn’t hesitant about going out and doing things like knox (“i’ll try anything once!”). gets into a pillow fight with pitts in one of the displays, garnering the attention of an ikea employee who sternly asks them to “act their age” and to “fix all the things they made fall on the ground”. the most adventurous eater at the cafeteria; tries the swedish meatballs and really likes them (”we have to come back here just to eat these again, guys”). rates each display on a scale of 1-10 and gives reasons for why he likes things and why he doesn’t (mostly in a joking way).

pitts: bumps his head on some of the hanging arrow signs that direct you into the next section of the store, sighs after every time. buys matching stuffed animals with meeks (’: is the designated driver, and never asks for gas money from his friends bc like knox and meeks, he just likes hanging out (but they give him gas money anyway !!). asks neil for a turn pushing the cart, which neil agrees to. when in control of the cart, bumps it into things, much to charlie’s displeasure (”wouldn’t peg you as a horrible cart driver since you’re the only one with your license, but alas, i was wrong”). feels v bad for getting in trouble w meeks about the pillow fighting and makes sure to fix any messed up things in any of the displays following the incident. also unsure of how much space is in the car for charlie’s boxes, leading him to argue against the purchase of any items.

cameron: also didn’t get the allure of a furniture store, but tagged along because he wanted to get off campus (and really does care about making time and hanging out with his friends, though he’d never admit that). pickiest when it came to the food court/cafeteria (”i just don’t want to try it, why do i need a reason ??”). actually considered buying a new desk organizer, but refused when charlie said it would look great on their new vanity (”charlie, they’ll confiscate that, too. how many times do i have to explain it ??”). unlike meeks, seriously rates each display on a scale of 1-10 talking about how some of the colors just don’t go, and it hurts his eyes to look at it. lowkey got lost for a bit and freaked out bc he couldn’t find anyone, but caught up with todd finally when they were exiting the kitchenette section. this caused him to ask what todd was doing all the way back behind the group, leading to a small, but nice conversation they had (”just making some notes about things i like for later on” todd had said. “that’s really cool, todd,” cameron smiled back at him, unknowing that todd was most certainly picking out things that not only he would like, but neil, too). finally caved and helped charlie build the new furniture when they got back because as much as he couldn't stand charlie sometimes, it made for an incredibly interesting bonding session. 

anyway, that’s all. i feel like the poets out in public and not on campus just harness a complete chaos anywhere they go HAHA. idk if this sucked or not, but it was super fun to write hehe. happy sunday i don’t want to go to work tomorrow, but such is the life of someone who has rent and bills to pay in the coming months, sigh

[wqk-k]

Obey Me Brother react to an idol!MC

 hi this is my first set of headcanons for the brothers  👉👈 i apologize if the brothers are ooc in this, though i tried my best jksajdufhj. i hope you enjoy!

++++

Warning(s): Cursing

Reader Pronouns: They/Them (4A)

Background: MC is a very popular idol in their world, best known for their impressive singing skills, music and the amount of rewards they have recieved because of their talents. Surprisingly, they aren’t only popular in their world, but in the Devildom and Celestial Realm as well.

++++

Lucifer

since lucifer didnt actually read who you were on the paper that had blown to his feet, he had no idea you were an idol at first

but after couple days at RAD, he noticed that random demons kept coming up to you in between classes and didnt leave until the next class started

most of them had come up to you with a pen and some paper asking for your autograph

he was just like ??? 

after a while of this happening luci decided to just ask you straight up why they were coming up to you like that and you had told him you were an idol back in the human realm

that explains it

he honestly doesnt mind

if people start hating on you in public, he’ll honestly just shoot them a death glare and it works

so damn well

he got too much pride to deal with those underlings

if you start working on music/mv projects that you left off on in the human realm (like shooting mv or singing) he will absolutely rent you a recording booth or fuck, even a whole ass theatre if you needed it

sometimes he likes to sit in the recording booth and listen to you sing for a bit before returning to his stacks of mammon’s bills 

v proud of you dont get him wrong

but he will make sure you’ve done all your homework first LMAO 🛌

Mammon

when mammon first found out you were an idol he started digging through boxes that had been in his closet

after what seemed like hours he finally found the box he was looking for and he started to dig through it

he pulled out an old camera that levi gave him a couple hundred years ago bc he said he didnt need it

mammon had the best idea ever, he could sell pictures of you to your fans for at least 10,000 grimm each.

surprisingly it worked

like really well

so well that you found out

you confronted him about it, saying that you find hella uncomfy with him snapping pictures of you at random times. not only that but it was an invasion of your privacy

despite him earning so much grimm, he agrees to stop but keeps some of the pictures to himself to look at when he misses you 

if you get hate in public he’ll turn into his demon form and scare the person away, maybe scaring you in the procees but apologizes right away if he does

if you start working on music/mv projects he’ll offer to help you shoot mvs or record you singing if you need the help

just make sure he gets some credit for helping you

but he genuinely thinks you look amazing in anything, like anything

you could be wearing a big bird cosplay and he’ll think you look breathtaking

gets you to model w him sometimes

Leviathan

wait you look really familiar

really really familiar

you almost look and sound like that one really popular human idol that hes simped for time and time again

wait

oh shit

v embarrassed when he finds out it is actually you and gets really nervous when hes talking to you

is the demon asking for your autograph

but you have no idea how much power you have over this man

you could tell him to come out of his room and he’d come out with ease, no protesting, no nothing

may ask you to record a ringtone for him for when he wakes up

even after months of you two knowing each other, he still gets flustered when you start talking to him with your stupid cute ass eyes and your perfect hair and your perfect voice and your perfect-

yeah you get the point AKJSDKLASFBG

if you get hate in public he will deadass growl at the person before escorting you to your favorite ice cream place

if you start working on music/mv projects he will be by your side 24/7

he wants to see the god/ess themselves at work

hes like your personal butler for the time youre working on the projects and its adorable

hes bby

Satan

when he finds out youre an idol he will 100% voulenteer to help you write lyrics for your next song

but besides that, like luci, he really doesnt mind

he hears some other demons talking shit about you after art class and he’ll be angy as usual, but after stomping off and accidentally bumping into you he just

turned into puddy??

idk what it was but it was something abt they way your hair was a lil messed up and looking at him like that wish a small embarrassed look

just wow

every ounce of anger just evaporated while you apologized over and over again because the face he was making made him look like he was angry for some reason 

when he snaps back into reality he says its cool but then asks if youd like to go to the library w him because honestly youre his safe haven now

sometimes he asks you to hum a tune for him when hes reading

if the demons start hating again, you may need to hold him back KJASNDJFG 

if you start working on music/mv projects, again, will voulenteer for helping with lyrics

if you already have the lyrics down he’ll review them and give constructive critisisim if needed

or he’ll just write every lyric himself and you can judge it after hes done

Asmodeus

is not surprised at all

hes actually heard some of your songs and damn id he doesnt have them on his “on repeat” playlist on devilfy

he thinks you have an outstanding voice, not only that but youre a gorgeous lookin thing

asmo likes to hit on you a lot because he likes to see that flustered look on your face but he would never over your boundaries

he wouldnt want to be over the internet bc he made one of the most praised artists in devildom (thats not even a demon) angry

asmo doesnt want to be cancelled yet JKSJKDGFUA

but seriously, he thinks youre amazing

like really amazing

there like no lust involved in his admiration for you he just geniunely thinks youre cool

but he does think you look amazing 24/7

will ask you to model things for him for devilgram

if you get hate in public, he’ll hold your hands and shower you with compliments and tells you to ignore them

if you start working on music/mv project he will insist on doing backup vocals or being a backup dancer

or like the head backup dancer or whatever theyre called

is like your personal stylist wherever you go as well

along with that he can also help you come up with a beat for your song if you need one, he is more than happy to help someone like you

Beelzebub

he honestly thinks youre really cool

asmo showed him one of your songs before and thought it sounded really catchy

not only that, you sounded beautiful, almost like you were actually from the celestial realm, consider him a fan

so when you showed up for the new exchange program he was surprised but got really giddy

was one of the demons who asked for your autograph

you gave him a sweet smile after he asked and he just- melted

man down man down

will want to spend lost of time with you and take you to ristorante six on fridays as his treat

you usually end up paying though which he feels really guilty about but you tell him its fine

youre an idol who is loaded to the chest, youve got nothing to lose KLSKADJHF

if you get hate in public he’s also the type to death glare but people dont really hate on you in public when youre w him bc he has a naturally scary aura

lowkey thought you wouldnt like him at first :(

if you start working on mv/music projects he’ll start cooking you meal and making sure you get enough water

will absolutely cook your favorite meal- or any meal in fact- if you request it

if you dont request anything he’ll just wing it and make something he think you’ll like kjskdhsf

Belphegor

couldnt care less  🧍

he thinks your voice is pretty nice tho

hears beel listening to your music once and agrees w him on you having a really nice voice

lowkey sing him to sleep

like its super cute

plus he thinks youre gorgeous?? like wow you rlly pretty

once tried rubbing your face bc he thought you were wearing makeup but when nothing came up on his thumb he muttered a small “wow” and hugged you

it was the cutest thing ever ohmy god KJSJDSIF

ever since that day hes obtained a habit of rubbing your face when he finds you stunning or at random moments

if you get hate in public he will literally murder the person?? but in like an alleyway or something

he’ll say something like “wait here” and walks toward a dark area to do his thang

when he comes back he’s covered in this red shit and you worry for him but he just glosses over it and takes you into a pillow shop LMAO

he is v protective over you

if you start working on mv/music projects he’ll occasionally help out but most of the time he’s sleeping so he doesnt really care 

sometimes he’ll give beat/lyric suggestions or help flim the mv but thats it  🧍  

++++

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 4

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Flirt mode  A C T I V A T E D 👏

As everyone else in the room was getting ready to depart for the day - chatting here and there and gathering their belongings - Vee was mostly occupied by her handbag, making sure everything was there before she would leave the place. She did not hear when someone approached her, but she next felt the poke of an object to her right shoulder.

“I didn’t want to make you feel bad earlier,” started Donatello’s voice. “But I truly do think we’re connected somehow now.”

She looked at him, first noticing that he had been poking her with a cardboard file folder, and then she took a good look at his clothes. Purple. AT LEAST not the same shade. He was wearing a fitting v-neck sweater of a dark purple color, with a white shirt  and a black tie underneath, his looks completed with dark charcoal pants and black shoes.

“... You’ve got to be kidding me,” started Vee with a stifled laugh. “Why are we like this?”

“I’m not superstitious, but maybe it’s destiny. We were meant to work together,” he winked. “Great minds think alike!”

Vee couldn’t hide her smile, next prompting him to get on the move for their dinner. She first expected them to walk out of the building and head to a subway station, but she was surprised to see the turtle head towards the indoor parking lot of the building.

“Wait, you want us to go by car?” she asked, her heels clacking rapidly on the tiled floor as she caught up to him.

“Why not? It’ll be quieter that way! I don’t feel like dealing with crowds in the subway anyway.”

She had to give him that, at least. A car would smell better than a subway train... As they made their way through the lot, she noticed Donnie getting out keys, the woman commenting:

“Huh, I thought you’d have a chauffeur or something like that.”

“Why, because I’m rich?” asked the mutant, amused. “I like driving, so I don’t see why I would leave all that fun to someone else.”

He pressed a button on a small remote attached to a key, which prompted a black SUV nearby to flash its light.

Vee was most certainly impressed by his taste, first observing the vehicle until she noticed the other opening the passenger door for her.

“The lady may take her seat.”

As she took place, her eyes scanned the interior.

The major difference she could notice from any other cars was how the driver seat was rearranged a bit further back, allowing space for the mutant’s shell most probably. As Donnie took place next, Vee couldn’t help her question:

“Is this car completely custom made?”

The other smirked: “If it was, it’d be way cooler. ... Nah for this I only had a Genesis GV80 model slightly modified to accomodate my form. I like the look of it and I don’t need something too extravagant to go around on the streets.”

“ ‘Don’t need something too extravagant’,” quoted the woman. “You do realize that you have an expensive car?”

“Remind me to show you my brother Mikey’s cars,” added Donnie, then starting the car’s ignition. “Then we can talk back about what’s expensive.”

As soon as the vehicle was brought to life, music was heard, being none other than Dio’s “Better In The Dark” track. The turtle rapidly fumbled to turn it down, his eyes widening.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for that,” he said once silence was back.

“... Are you kidding? You shouldn’t apologize for listening to Dio!” reassured Vee. “That guy frickin’ rocks!”

The terrapin smirked: “Ah, a woman of good taste! You keep on getting better and better.”

Vee couldn’t help her smile in return, the pair then finally getting on the move.

***

Donnie had to park his SUV on a quiet street, the duo next walking towards their destination; New York’s Little Italy. The evening was already laying its shadows in the sky, but the streets were bright and colorful, the warmth in the air of the incoming summer days an absolute delight. A light conversation was held as they were walking, until Vee was abruptly stopped by almost falling due to one of her heels stumbling into a small crack in the sidewalk. She was first surprised by how fast Donnie had been to catching her, a small laugh escaping her. To feel his touch around her, his strength, all she could hear was her heart drumming in her ears. They continued their path, Vee’s arm hooked to Donatello’s. It simply felt like a dream at that point...

They finally arrived to the place; a small rustic looking restaurant that had been hiding from the bigger crowd’s broad sight. There were few patrons inside, the ambiance calm and somehow giving a “feels like home” kind of vibe. Donnie seemed to know the place well, only quickly waving to the staff and already going for a table. It was a nice little corner with a table large enough so they could lay down their paperwork. Being a complete gentleman, the mutant was quick to draw a chair for Vee to sit on, waiting until she was seated properly before settling down across the table. A waiter was already at their disposition, Donnie already asking for a bottle of white wine, interjecting some Italian words in the bunch and ending with a “grazie mille”, to Vee’s surprise.

“You speak Italian?” she asked as the waiter was walking away.

“Non molti, ma un po' sì (Not a lot, but a little bit yes),” he answered. “Still learning, but I’m getting there.”

“Do you know any other languages?”

“I’ve tried to start learning Japanese alongside my brother Leonardo, but I’m not as proficient as him so far. I’ve also started French.”

Vee couldn’t help herself: “Donc, si je parle dans ma langue maternelle, tu devrais comprendre? (So, if I speak in my native tongue, you should understand?)”

Donnie froze for a moment, soon ruminating the words and showing a smile.

“Un peu (a bit),” he said. “But I feel like I need to practice a little more.” He did not skip a beat when adding: “I don’t know why, but I think a French Canadian’s accent sounds way more interesting than metropolitan French. There’s a certain flair to it, I can’t really explain...”

Vee was most certainly amused: “Try going into any rural parts of Québec, then you’ll feel like you’re speaking to aliens or something. Our French is unique, sometimes butchered, but it is nice indeed.” She did a small shrug. “I could help you practice, if you want.”

Their wine arrived, their glasses filled and the bottle left at their table. Donnie took his glass, pensively rolling the drink in his hand.

“You keep on giving, miss Vee, and I’ll soon feel cheap. First you’re helping me for the Lowline, now you’re proposing to help me with my French. ... My oh my, mademoiselle, I’ll have a debt to repay once again.”

“Let’s start by actually getting something for dinner,” added the woman, lifting the menu to her face in order to hide her blush. “It’ll give me time to think about if I need your help with something. What’s good in here?”

It was so hard to act casual...

“Their pastas are the best, but I’ll have to say that their tiramisu is to die for - I’m definitely grabbing one of those at the end.”

As the evening went along, Vee was finally starting to feel more at ease. The food was delicious, the wine delectable, and the company absolutely charming. They took some time to review the folder Donnie had brought along, talking about the project’s restrictions and demands. It was simple enough thus far, some ideas already boiling in the woman’s mind. Maybe the wine was kicking in, but she didn’t even flinch when her hand brushed the turtle’s over some papers. Her body language was screaming interest, lightly hunched over the table, actively listening to him and her smile tender. She couldn’t quite explain this attraction she felt. All she knew was that Donnie had this aura surrounding him; a welcoming and calm presence that made her feel safe and relaxed. His humor was subtle and his additions to a conversation well-placed. He was a man of many words and of a vast knowledge, although gladly giving the spotlight to any soul speaking, always listening with great interest. Vee could only admit that she wanted to learn more about him.

***

The dinner over, the pair headed back to the SUV, Donnie at least insisting that he could drop Vee to her place. How could she say no to a sweet smile such as his, anyway? The address handed, the ride went on smoothly in a comfortable silence, the woman glancing at the many lights outside - not even noticing that the terrapin would sometimes glance her way and feel this lovesick knot in his chest...

As he parked nearby her apartment building, he did not hesitate to get out as well, at least considering it good etiquette to escort her to the entrance.

“I hope I didn’t make it harder for you by cramming all that information in your face?” he said as they were talking, arms hooked again.

Vee shook her head, amused: “Absolutely not. It has given me ideas, in fact.”

“Good, good.”

As they stopped by the main door, they paused, their hooked arms transitioning into a longing, yet subtle touch of their hands. Vee finally moved her hand away, her blush faint as she removed a small strand of hair from her face.

“... This was nice, thank you,” she said. “Not the habitual work meetup I’m used to, but this was good for a change.”

Donnie quickly cleared his throat, retrieving his thoughts.

“Of course! It was quite pleasant, indeed. ... It’s not often that I get such enjoyable company.”

“You’re sweet, thank you.”

There it was, that silence as they both crossed gaze. That moment of unspeakable words and uncertain actions... The mutant sweetly smiled, breaking that moment.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work. ... Goodnight, Vee.”

“Goodnight, Donnie.” She felt like she could breathe again...

Yet, as she saw the other walk away, she added:

“Donnie!”

He turned back.

“I think I know how you can repay me for the French lessons,” she continued. “... How about another evening together? Not work related this time.”

Joy lightened up the turtle’s features, definitely agreeing: “Absolutely!”

And just like that, the night felt even better.

((Part 5))

[magnoliasinbloom]

Lie To Me - 11

AO3 :: Previously

Jamie thinks his uncles might have kept closer tabs on him if he hadn’t acted so compliant in the last few years. Agreeing to marry Laoghaire, staying on at Leoch, keeping his head down. All the while, they’d let the cuckoo in the nest and he hopes he is preparing the massive downfall of the MacKenzie empire—with Claire’s help.

This is how he is able to create a fictitious acquisition meeting in London, regarding an up and coming author. The author is real, but the meeting is not. He has Louise, his executive assistant, register his schedule into the system, and book his lodgings for two days.

Claire books a room at the same hotel.

Laoghaire bids him farewell at their shared flat, glad to see him go; he knows she’ll spend these days with Joseph. He is happy for her. Now, Jamie boards the train taking him and Claire to London, sitting side by side, surreptitiously holding hands. He had tucked copies of the most basic documents pertaining to the investigation into Leoch’s business into his duffel bag.

“What do you mean, you’ve never toured London properly?” Claire leans back from her position tucked into Jamie’s shoulder to look at him in surprise.

“Aye, well, Mam and Da took Jenny and me when we were weans. We went to the Tower, the British Museum, the V&A and such, but I dinna really remember it.”

“Very culturally inclined, your parents.”

“My mam studied art history at uni. She was very much into art and history and culture and wanted her children to appreciate it too.” Jamie smiles. “Now, what made ye decide to be a doctor?”

Her answer is immediate. “Helping out at dig sites with my Uncle Lamb. I was always one of the few women there and I suppose caring for the people came naturally to me.”

“I admire ye, Sassenach. ‘Tis a noble calling.” Jamie lifts Claire’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to her fingers.

“It’s a hard one too. I’m afraid it takes up a lot of my time, days and nights, conferences, emergencies…” She wants Jamie to be aware that, no matter how much she cares for him, her calling to heal often consumes her. It’s something that Frank never understood.

“I dinna mind. I’ll take ye any way I can, Claire.”

X-x-X

They check into the Park Grand separately; their rooms are on different floors. Jamie lingers for a few minutes in the lobby while Claire goes up with her small suitcase. He wishes things were different—Jamie, unattached, a regular lad with a normal job, visiting London with his girlfriend, spending their nights in the same room.

Claire, for her part, closes the door to her own room, resting her palm against the wood, and wishes Jamie had followed her there. Their acquaintance and budding relationship are fraught with so many obstacles and complications, but she is determined to make something of it, to emerge victorious, to help the man she has come to love.

Frank has agreed to meet Claire at the bar in the Royal Lancaster Hotel. Jamie meets her in the lobby and together ride the metro as unobtrusively as possible to the designated location. Claire is nervous; it’s the first time in nearly a year that she’s seeing Frank, but the fluttering is tempered by Jamie at her side.

Claire recognizes Frank by the sharp cut of his hair; he’s sitting at a table in the middle of the bar, his back to them. With a deep, shaky breath, and a squeeze of Jamie’s hand in hers, she approaches and briefly startles her ex-husband with a quiet, “Hello, Frank.”

Jamie notes the way Randall’s neck stiffens and turns slowly to greet Claire. He does a double take when he sees Jamie beside her, holding her hand. He keeps an impassive face while Frank gives Claire a brief peck on the cheek and then gestures to Jamie.

“And who is this? I had the notion we would be meeting alone.” He has a good poker face, but Jamie’s is better.

“James Fraser.” He extends his hand and Randall grasps it out of courtesy, evidently trying to intimidate with the strength of his grip. Jamie matches it and is gratified to see him wince.

“Actually, Frank, he is the reason I’m here.” Claire sits at the table and plasters a smile when the server comes to take their drink order. “Two whiskies, please. Neat.” Left alone once more, Claire lowers her voice and says, “I hadn’t mentioned him before because I thought you might not want to see me.”

“I just didn’t think you would be that… quick,” Frank says, raising both eyebrows.

Claire’s cheeks color slightly, and Jamie suppresses the urge to punch Frank in the face. But his Sassenach is more than equal to the task. “You were quicker, I think, since we were still married.”

Frank offers a tight-lipped smile. “Touché.”

“Mr. Randall, the reason we’re here is that we need yer help with a delicate matter. It’s something that will benefit us both.”

“What is it you think you can do for me?”

“I work for Leoch Holdings.” Jamie senses Frank’s curiosity peak at the name. “My uncles own the business, and I have been made aware of many dealings that are less than… legal.”

“If it’s your uncles’ own company, why are you working against them?” Frank sips casually from a glass of white wine, but it is evident he’s interested.

“They are blackmailing me with false murder charges.” Jamie doesn’t blink even as Frank flinches and he sees Claire clutch her whisky glass tighter at the words. “There is corruption, crime, extorsion, ye name it. My godfather is working within the Glasgow police force to help me, and is in touch with Chief John Grey at the SCD.”

“If you have their assistance, why come to me?” Frank glances between Claire and Jamie, prompting her to reach for Jamie’s hand again and lay them on the table; their connection is evident, as is their support of each other.

“There are a great many people implicated, and there are precious few we can trust wi’ this information. Ye have access to certain resources we do not.”

“Do you have any documentation to go on? Something solid?”

Jamie pulls out papers from his coat inside pocket. “I brought these to get you started. I shouldna have to mention that it’s sensitive information, and the less eyes that see it, the better.”

Randall peruses the documents, rifling through the pages; his eyes widen as he reads the names Jamie has seen time and time again, almost unable to believe the scope of Leoch’s shady operations.

“This is quite an undertaking. Some of these people… the scandal would rock the nation.” Frank’s tone is noncommittal, and Jamie feels his stomach sinking.

“So ye dinna think it’s possible then,” he says dejectedly.

“I didn’t say that.” Frank is quiet for a few minutes, going over the papers once more. “From what I can gather, a key element is finding out where the money is going, all these names and payments… If we can find the accounts, we’d be in business.”

Claire tosses back her whisky. “It’s massive, Frank,” she says quietly, leaning in and he imitates her unconsciously. “There’s politicians, judges, police officers, money, extorsion… if you were to help Jamie—help us—and put an end to this, it will no doubt aid in your efforts to solidify yourself as a model MP. Maybe even PM someday.” She knows the prospect is like dangling a carrot in front of a horse. She recognizes the old gleam of a challenge in Frank’s eyes, and a small swell of relief takes hold inside her. If anyone can help them, it’s this man; despite the crumbled marriage between them, she can trust him with this. Frank seems to read her mind, and asks:

“Why trust me with this, Claire? After what I did to you?”

“Not only is your name not in the documents—and I didn’t think it would be—but I know exactly how important your political career is to you. Much more important than I ever was.” Claire’s voice is steadfast and Frank does not dispute her statement. “So, you’ll do it?”

“I will.” Frank tucks the papers into his own coat pocket, drinking the dregs of wine. “I believe I owe it to you.”

“You bloody well do, Francis Randall.” Claire and Jamie both feel that spark of hope ignite within, a way out of the dark tunnel Jamie has been in for years and that Claire has also chosen to walk.

As they prepare to leave, Frank remains sitting; Claire can feel his scrutiny, appraising them, judging, drawing his own conclusions about what Jamie means to her.

“Is it worth it?” Frank asks suddenly, his parting shot. Claire feels Jamie stiffen next to her and she is tempted to let him thump Frank, but doesn’t want to undermine their efforts quite yet. Claire holds Frank’s gaze and responds simply.

“He is.”

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Sixteen - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Hi! Today I just wanted to share a French song with you just because I like sharing French things :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jabih9mV6RQ

When Marinette saw Damian waiting for her the next morning, it made her so happy that she wanted to smile all day. She’s been dreaming about this ever since she met him as Robin, and she couldn’t be happier. She gave him a kiss as a good morning, lingering a little, not surprised when he took advantage of it to kiss her again.

“Ready to meet my friends?” she asked, laughing a little.

The fashion designer knew that Robin — Damian, she corrected herself. She still wasn’t used to calling him by his real name — wasn’t a people person. He had very few friends, and he was happy with them. So she didn’t have much hope that he would get along with her friends. Knowing Damian, and knowing her friends, she was pretty sure that her soulmate would be more annoyed by her friends than anything else.

As long as they all could be civil with each other, she won’t force them to be friends.

Damian winced as she answered her.

“I’m not promising you anything.”

She smiled at his honesty.

“And I’m not asking you anything, except to be civil?”

She looked at him, laughing as he stayed silent.

“You can be civil and be your sarcastic, blunt self.”

“Most people would say that it’s not being civil.”

“Well, my friends can take it.”

She linked her arm with his.

“Come on, let’s go. I promise not to let you alone in the lion’s den.”

Claude, Allan, and Allegra were delighted when she introduced Damian as her soulmate. They gave them their congratulations, made small talk with Damian, but didn’t insist too much. Those three — she loved them to death, even though she hasn’t known them as long as her other friends —were very good at reading people and could tell that the Wayne — or Grayson, as they knew him — wasn’t at ease, and so, chose to back off.

She would have hugged them here and there, for being so friendly and understanding.

Now, to introduce him to Nino, Kim, Adrien, and Alya.

Nino and Kim would probably try to be noble and all and give Damian the brother talk, but she had hoped that she could prevent that. Knowing them since they were children meant that she had a lot of blackmails for both of them, and one word could make them rethink anything.

Adrien, sweet, sunshine child but also oblivious Adrien would probably just smile, congratulate them and move on to something else.

As for Alya…

She didn’t want to think about it.

“Already getting cozy with the new guy, girl?”

She should have known that her best friend would run her mouth like that. And she could say that Damian did not get a good first impression of the reporter if the tightening of his hand on hers were any saying.

Nino and Adrien were with the journalist, the blond with his sunshine smile on his face as usual, happy to be introduced to a potential new friend.

“Hi! You’re Damian, right? Nino told me you were new here, I’m Adrien!”

Damian nodded, lips pursed.

Well, here went her hope.

As little as it was in the first place.

“Speaking of Damian.” she started, gathering all their attention.

“You sure make friends fast, Mari.” observed Alya.

Marinette rolled her eyes. Yeah, she liked to be friendly with everyone, but she wouldn’t go as far as to say that she made friends with everyone either.

“Actually, Damian is my soulmate.”

Just as she predicted, Adrien’s smile became even more blinding, hugging her in his happiness, and nodding at Damian, not at ease with hugging someone he didn’t know. Which was good, because Damian would not have appreciated such a gesture from the model.

As Nino opened his mouth with a smirk, he caught sight of Marinette’s glare and how she mimicked a knife to the throat. She almost laughed as the bespectacled boy gulped and looked away, his words for her boyfriend dying in his throat.

Crisis prevented.

But she couldn’t say so for the Ladyblogger.

Alya started asking a lot of questions, questions that even Marinette never asked, and some that she didn’t even want the answers to. As the journalist was not stopping, she could see that her boyfriend’s patience was running thin, and was seconds away from snapping at Alya.

Thankfully, Nino noticed and took his girlfriend by the arm.

“Alya, stop. You shouldn’t ask all these questions, it’s none of our business and it concerns no one but Damian and Marinette, ok?”

Alya looked chastised but nodded, knowing she went too far.

“I’m sorry.”

Damian nodded in acknowledgment, not offering an answer. Marinette smiled at her best friend, squeezing her arm.

“We should head to class anyway.”

The introductions didn’t go as she had hoped, but at least, no one was rude, so she supposed that it went well, all things considered.

It was November and Marinette was happy.

Maybe it was stupid to focus on something like that, but she felt happy. She had a boyfriend she loved from the bottom of her heart — even if she still had to say those three words —, friends that she loved and loved her, a loving family, and partners in fighting the evil that she could call friends.

She was even civil with Lila. Sometimes, friendly even.

After three months at Françoise-Dupont, Damian still called everyone by their last name. No one really cared, as he was always polite and cordial with everyone, but it annoyed Alya to no end.

Those two didn’t get along at all. It made Marinette sad a little, but she knew she couldn’t force them to be friends. Plus, when the Eurasian girl organized outings with all her friends, they always make an effort to not argue.

And that’s all she could ask for, really.

Even if it meant that they just ignored each other, but, what could she do?

Damian got along best with Claude, Allan, and Allegra. She wouldn’t go as far as saying that he was friends with them, but he tolerated them more than anyone else in the class.

The youngest Wayne didn’t see Adrien often, as he was in another class and wasn’t allowed to go to a lot of outings, but she could see that the model was grating on his nerves.

She couldn’t pinpoint what exactly annoyed Damian about Adrien, but he didn’t snap at the blonde yet, so it was a victory in her eyes.

As for the others, he was cordial and polite, so she assumed that he didn’t despise them.

Now, she was in class with Ms. Bustier and Damian was nowhere to be seen.

She frowned. It wasn’t like Damian to be late, he was always very punctual and hated when others were late. She experienced it herself when she was late once on one of their dates. She shivered. She always made sure to be early, now.

Finally, Damian arrived, apologizing to the professor and making a beeline for his seat.

He still spared her a smile as she passed her, that she returned immediately before giving her attention back to the lecture.

Ten minutes after her boyfriend’s arrival, there was a whining behind her.

In synchronization, Claude and she turned, looking at Damian. A quick glance around the classroom showed her that they were the only ones to hear the noise.

Damian just stared at them, offering no explanation.

So they just turned around, focusing on the lecture once more.

When the whining came back, she just looked at Claude, who was also looking at her.

“What’s that noise?” he whispered.

She shrugged, not knowing the answer to that question.

When they heard it for the third time, they both turned around again, only to see Damian trying to hide a dog, whose head was on her boyfriend’s desk, demanding his attention.

She gasped at the cute scene in front of her.

“Claude, Marinette, is there a problem?” Ms. Bustier asked, hand on her hip, ready to scold them for not paying attention in class.

They turned back, facing the board.

“Nothing, Miss!” exclaimed Claude.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

The redhead teacher narrowed her eyes at them.

“Please, pay more attention.”

They nodded and she turned back to the board.

As soon as the bell rang for the morning break, Claude and Marinette turned for the nth time, facing Damian.

The dog’s head was resting on her boyfriend’s arm, dozing off.

As she observed the little dog more, she noticed that it was just a puppy, a few weeks old, with white, fluffy fur.

A Samoyed, she recognized.

And it was the cutest little thing ever.

She squealed.

“What the fuck are you doing with a puppy in school?” asked Claude in a whisper, his face showing how much he wanted to pet the puppy.

“I found her abandoned in an alley. What was I supposed to do, leave her there?”

So it was a she.

“No, of course not,” she agreed. “But school is, maybe, not the best place to bring her.”

The puppy opened her eyes and yawned, and both she and Claude cooed at the sight. Thankfully, no one was paying attention to them, so no one saw the little dog.

The teenage girl extended her hand to the dog, letting her sniff her and cooed once more when she licked her hand. Taking that as an invitation, she softly petted her head.

“What are you going to do with her?”

“I’ll take her to the vet after school and then I’ll take her home.”

She knew that he missed his dog back in Gotham, so she shouldn’t be surprised that he was so eager to adopt this little one.

“What is Dick going to say?”

“He doesn’t really have a choice.”

She laughed.

“No, I suppose he doesn’t.”

When she stopped petting the puppy, Claude extended his own hand to her and started petting her back when she allowed him too.

“Damn, this dog is too cute, I want to cry.” He made kissing noises at the dog. “So, what, you’re just going to hide it with you all day in school.”

“It’s Wednesday, a half-day, so I just have to keep her hidden for two more hours. I can manage. I did it before.”

The fashion designer smiled.

“You often save animals from the street like that?” she asked.

“More than you know.” He answered and bent over his desk to give her a soft kiss.

“Ugh, you guys are so cute, you make me want to puke.” Joked Claude.

“Call me cute one more time and you can say goodbye to your teeth.”

Claude just laughed, not taking his threat seriously at all.

It was surprising, really, when at the end of the morning — Wednesdays were only a half-day of classes, so they were done by 12:30— Damian did manage to not get caught with the dog.

He was the first one out of class and was waiting for Marinette outside.

She accompanied him to the vet, who took them between two clients, thankfully.

The puppy was fine, all things considered. She was a bit underweight though, probably that she’s been on the streets for a week or two with nothing to eat. It was a good thing that Damian found her when he did.

They then went to a store to buy all the necessities for the little dog, gave her something to eat, and bought sandwiches as lunch before they went to a park so the dog could spend his energy.

“She’s so small right now, I can’t believe she’s going to get so big in a few months,” she said as she took a hundred pictures of the dog. She was already in love with her.

She knew that her soulmate was an animal lover, that he was more at ease with them than with humans, so she had no doubt that he would take really good care of this little one. She just hoped that she would get along with his cat.

“It shouldn’t be an issue. Alfred the cat is used to be around other animals,” he answered her when she voiced her thoughts.

The dog came back to them, tired, and she lifted her to put her on her laps. She took a few selfies with the puppy and even got Damian to take some with her.

She also changed her unlock screen with one of the pictures they just took.

“What are you going to name her?” she asked as she petted the now sleeping dog.

“Hmm… I don’t know. What do you think I should name her?”

The blue-eyed girl beamed, happy that he was asking about her opinion. It meant a lot to her and she could say that it meant a lot to him too.

“Well, all this white fluff makes me think of a cloud, so why not Cloud?”

He smiled at her and kissed her cheek in affection.

It always made her blush when Damian did something like that in public, but she has learned that he just did whatever he felt like doing at the moment, so she didn’t mind it, as long as it stayed G rated.

“Cloud it is, then.”

Tag List:

@bigpicklebananatree​ @animegirlweeb​ @crazylittlemunchkin​ @northernbluetongue​ @cutechip​ @justafanwarrior​ @iloontjeboontje​ @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood​ @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff​ @toodaloo-kangaroo​ @mikantsume​ @dast218​ @amayakans​ @zestyzealot​ @lunarwolfspn​ @corabeth11​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @olynix​ @aestheticnpoetic​ @hot-neighbour-nextdoor​ @thehufflepuffranger-blog @k-poplunardreams​ @tis-i-beanbandit​ @bluesimani​

[carewyncromwell]

Whew! Three drawings for the price of one for the POTC AU! The first two feature our new Pirate King Jules Farrier-Weasley @cursebreakerfarrier (flanked by Jacob “Black Jack” Cromwell Roberts and Orion Amari), and Cutler Beckett (flanked by Carewyn Cromwell “Carey Weasley” and Patricia Rakepick). The last one features the human form of our Davy Jones, Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws, with his One True Love Chiara Dalma, A.K.A. Calypso! These took a while, but they were fun to do, so I hope you like them.

Jules’s “tunic” is actually the same chemise she cut up while she was still on board the Artemis, as seen in a doodle on a previous post. Carewyn’s new uniform (which we’ll address in this part) is based on yet another of James Norrington’s costumes, this time the one he wears in the third Pirates film. Unlike the character whose role she roughly fills, though, Carey isn’t going to die unceremoniously in the middle of the damn story after getting this costume change. (Why no, I’m not bitter about the fact that Jack Davenport didn’t get more screentime and that Norrington didn’t get to be the Javert to Captain Jack Sparrow’s Valjean in the sequels the way he so could’ve been after the first movie, why would you think that? *snort*)

Now that we’re getting more into the Davy Jones/Calypso stuff, I can acknowledge how much I’ve changed from the original films’ depictions of the characters, as well as why. Personally I find the characters’ relationship to be a bit toxic and not as romantic as it should be. Calypso, being a goddess, could very easily not understand things like the passage of time through a man’s eyes, but the excuse she gives for why she wasn’t there to support her lover after all of the hard and lonely work he’d put in for her after ten years is just “it’s who I am.” I get that she’s a manifestation of the sea and not something you can pin down and all that jazz, but at the same time, it was cruel to follow her own selfish whims over considering her lover’s feelings. She presumably then also didn’t even try following up with Jones after he returned to the sea, as they aren’t able to sort out that misunderstanding before the events of At World’s End. (I mean, she’s a shape-shifting goddess of the sea, and she made him that way in the first place, so it’s not like she couldn’t have met him somewhere that wasn’t dry land.) I understand Jones couldn’t expect her to change her nature, and that’s fair, but it doesn’t make me like Calypso very much or feel much of anything for her relationship with Jones. And on the flip side, Jones decides to take out his pain at this misunderstanding (which he really should’ve tried clearing up AGES before the events of At World’s End) on his lover in the most spiteful, vindictive way -- teaching a bunch of pirates how to trap an immortal goddess into a mortal body that definitely has none of the power innate to her, presumably feels pain, and could even age or die. Rather than trying to quit the job Calypso gave him or even trying to figure out what happened, he decides to clip the wings of the woman he supposedly loves, all due to his own pain at being betrayed. So I don’t feel much for Jones as a character and for his relationship with Calypso either. In the end, when they quasi-make up, I didn’t think it was earned or that it was a good outcome for either of them. I do think there’s some tragedy in the situation, for they clearly feel deeply for each other, but their romance is really dysfunctional in my opinion, and I think it could’ve been handled a lot better if you wanted to make the pairing as romantic as the theme Hans Zimmer wrote for it. (As a side, take a listen to this lovely lyric cover someone wrote for the Davy Jones theme, it’s so good!) This is part of why I like being able to write Chia and Finn (the Calypso and Jones analogues in this AU) with a more sympathetic backstory, as well as some organic development for both them and their relationship while they’re apart from each other, which I kind of think was lacking in Tia Dalma/Calypso in particular.

Previous part is here, whole tag is here, and I hope you all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn was perturbed by how fast an armada of ships from Port Royal caught up with the Flying Dutchman, once Rakepick had Jones send one of his cursed crew members with a message for Beckett. It was as though the head of the East India Trading Company had been waiting in eager anticipation of the Dutchman locating Shipwreck Cove ever since he gave her and Rakepick the mission in the first place.

Among the armada was the Clearwater, and Carewyn was shocked and a little happy to see Percy crossing over to the Dutchman from his ship and leaping off the gangplank to greet her. The youngest of the three Weasley brothers who’d joined the Navy gave her a salute for formalities’ sake, but he couldn’t keep the relieved smile off his face.

“Commodore Weasley,” he said formally.

“Captain Weasley,” said Carewyn in return.

As soon as they’d greeted each other, both of them loosened considerably. Carewyn opened her arms and brought Percy into a rather mannish hug, clapping his back the way Bill often did whenever he hugged his brothers.

“Jones’s men treated you well, I hope?” Percy murmured under his breath, his voice betraying some cold suspicion despite himself.

“Well enough,” Carewyn said softly.

When they broke apart, Percy was smiling a bit more fully. 

“It is good to see you, Carey,” he said, his faintly pompous voice nonetheless incredibly sincere, “though I’m afraid I’ll have my own ship to run now...”

Carewyn smiled proudly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. A Commodore needs a talented Captain in his fleet.”

‘I know how long you’ve dreamed of moving up the ranks. Even if the Navy isn’t what it should be...I’m glad that you’re living your dream, Percy.’

Percy’s brown eyes softened, clearly touched. Before he could say anything, however, a familiar, aloof voice interrupted him.

"A Commodore does indeed need a talented Captain...”

Both Weasleys turned to Cutler Beckett as he stepped down onto the deck of the Dutchman beside them. His small eyes were locked firmly on Carewyn.

“...as does the Admiral of the fleet.”

He materialized a folded letter and held it out to Carewyn. Her eyebrows furrowed as she opened it, before her eyes widened upon its contents and the royal wax seal at the bottom.

“I’d already had this prepared ahead of time, prior to your departure from Port Royal,” said Beckett with a cool smile. “I wrote to the King of how impressed I was with your dedication, ingenuity, and talents, and he was most pleased. When I requested you to be at the head of my fleet for this upcoming venture, he agreed immediately. Upon receiving Madam Rakepick’s letter about you initiating the search for the Tower Raven’s old fleet and using one of their own ships to guide us to our target...I knew that my faith had been more than warranted.”

His eyes narrowed slightly over his cold, satisfied smile.

“Congratulations...Admiral Carey Weasley.”

The “honor” the King had bestowed upon her, if one could call it that, made Carewyn feel ill for multiple reasons. Not only did she truly not, NOT want to fight the Pirate Lords and whatever ships they gathered together, but she knew that she had largely gotten the position thanks to the effort of Rakepick -- who had for whatever reason credited Carewyn for following the Phoenix rather than taking credit herself -- and Beckett -- who Carewyn didn’t trust as far as she could throw him, but couldn’t figure out why exactly he had so much “faith” in her. Was she truly that good of an actress to completely fool him? She wanted to think so -- and yet the way he looked at her, not unlike how Rakepick looked at her, spoke of him knowing something she didn’t. Sadly Percy, even if he had seemed legitimately troubled by the hangings in Port Royal, was not distrustful enough of Beckett to express anything but pride in Carewyn’s accomplishment, so Carewyn couldn’t talk to him or anyone else about her suspicions.

When she confronted Rakepick about what she wrote to Beckett, the older woman’s response was oddly coy.

“I already told you you don’t belong on this ship,” she said, her dark blue eyes locked firmly onto Carewyn’s with a murky emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “Now that you’re Admiral, you’ll have more power to command your own ship, overlooking the Dutchman as well as the rest of the fleet.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. “So you wrote that so I’d get off the Dutchman?”

Rakepick’s eyes narrowed slightly too, becoming more solemn. “You heard Lord Beckett -- he’d already planned this for you in advance. Although my reasons are different from his, I’m more than willing to play along with his whims, if it means I get what I want.”

“And what is it you want, Rakepick?”

Rakepick’s red lips curled up into a cool smirk. “Now, Admiral...one can hardly expect a lady to answer such a personal question.”

Not long after confronting Rakepick, Beckett summoned Carewyn to his cabin on his flagship, a Man O’ War called the HMS Lion. Unlike any of their previous meetings in his office, Carewyn found the cabin completely empty except for Beckett when she arrived -- in the past, Percy or Rakepick had been there too, as well as one or two employees of the East India Trading Company. It gave her the feeling that Beckett wanted this meeting to be more private than the others, which gave her a terrible sense of foreboding.

“You wished to see me, Lord Beckett?” she asked, once she’d finished saluting him.

“Yes,” said Beckett.

He was sitting behind his desk, which once again had a map laid out with different model soldiers and ships littered all over it. There were also seven Piece of Eight coins lined up in a neat little row -- he was once again playing with the eighth, rolling it along his fingers lackadaisically.

“Word has come from Shipwreck Cove, from the so-called ‘Pirate King,’“ he said, his eyes on the coin in his hand. “She wishes to rendez-vous on a tiny island on the far side of Shipwreck Island at sunset tonight, a ways away from the Cove. No weapons -- just talking.”

Beckett’s eyes flickered up to Carewyn’s face almost critically.

“...The Pirate King...signed her name as ‘Captain Jules Weasley’ -- so she’d be an old flame of yours, would she not?”

Carewyn stiffened slightly. ‘Jules is the Pirate King?’

She covered up her surprise quickly, her blue eyes narrowing.

“Miss Farrier -- pardon, Mrs. William Weasley -- never commanded any affection from me. Although her father bid she court me, her feelings were always for my brother -- so much so that she followed him into piracy.”

Beckett’s lips spread into a cold smile. “Then it’s as I surmised. Governor Farrier expressed frustration that his daughter had not managed to ensnare your heart, as opposed to your older brother’s -- especially considering how much she seemed to enjoy your company...”

Carewyn could not figure out what Beckett was trying to suss out from this conversation and it troubled her greatly -- so she put on her best, coldest expression and lied through her teeth.

“Whatever woman I respected in the past is dead, now that she’s an enemy of the Crown,” she said harshly. “I know no ‘Captain Jules Weasley’...nor do I wish to.”

Beckett’s smile did not shift in the slightest. If anything, his small, dark eyes flickered in something almost like triumph.

“I understand your sensitivity to the matter. You truly do love with all of your heart, don’t you, Admiral Weasley?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit tightly over her eyes in confusion, but she did not reply. Beckett put the Piece of Eight coin down in the row on his deck and rose from his chair, moving over to the decanter of red wine on the side table so he could pour a glass.

“I saw you with Captain Weasley, before you left Port Royal -- and of course, your reunion on-board the Dutchman, earlier today. I also heard quite a few interesting rumors circulated among our prisoners from Tortuga, speaking of your honor and the respect you showed them despite their criminal status...even moving a woman into a cell with her husband without being asked, if I’m not mistaken...”

His voice was very aloof and was tinged with a bizarre fascination, like an entomologist might have for a rare butterfly he’d pinned to his wall. Carewyn felt like her heart was being squeezed, but she dare not say anything.

Beckett finished pouring out two glasses of wine and put down the decanter so he could pick up both glasses.

“It’s not something I’m familiar with, that kind of concern for others.”

He offered the glass of red wine to Carewyn, his eyes boring into her face. Carewyn kept her face as blank as she could even though she could feel the blood leaving it as she took the glass of wine from him, but did not drink it.

“...I did not mean to displease you, Lord Beckett,” she said lowly.

Beckett’s eyes flickered again with that strange satisfaction as he took a sip from his glass of wine.

“On the contrary -- it’s only appropriate, for a woman to have a gentle heart.”

Carewyn stiffened sharply.

‘No. No, no, no -- !’

It was one thing for Rakepick to find out, but Beckett to know -- did Rakepick tell him? No, she said she wasn’t really doing any of this for Beckett -- should she deny it, Carewyn wondered? But if she did, and he caught her in a lie, could that make it worse -- ? 

Her hesitation made Beckett’s eyes gleam with greater satisfaction than ever.

“Then I was right,” he murmured. “I admit, I wasn’t sure. True, your voice is higher than one normally hears and you’re smaller than most, but I know first hand that means nothing. And your military record...had it not been for me having met and employed Patricia Rakepick previously, I would never have believed a woman could be so skilled in battle and strategy, nor so aggressive. But when Captain Weasley expressed such interest in me having hired a woman, and even went out of his way to bring it up to you...my interest was peaked. All the more so when I found out how truly useful you are, as an officer.”

Carewyn felt like she was drowning in horrifying, icy cold water. Beckett knew she was a woman -- he knew she was a woman, and could tell anyone about it, if he so chose. She’d not only lose her position -- the one thing that she had left that she could use to protect Jacob, Orion, Bill, Charlie, and Jules...but she’d be cast out in disgrace, leaving her with nothing -- possibly taking Percy along with her for having kept her true gender a secret --

Her blue eyes had drifted down to the floor absently, but were not focusing on anything.

Yet...Beckett had said nothing of his suspicions to anyone. True, he hadn’t known for sure...but why would he recommend her to the King as an Admiral, if he’d suspected?

And then it hit her.

She bowed her head, casting her eyes into shadow as she put down her untouched wine glass on the side table.

“...What do you want from me, Lord Beckett?”

Beckett raised his eyebrows but did not respond.

“You very easily could’ve gotten both Percy and me cast out of the Navy in disgrace,” she said, keeping her voice low in an attempt to try to keep it steady, “yet you’ve kept me and even helped get me promoted, presumably because I’m so ‘useful.’ What use do I have, for you?”

Beckett gave her something of a patronizing smile as he stepped forward, coming up right in front of Carewyn so that his chin rested just shy of her shoulder and he could look at her face out the side of his eye.

“Isn’t it obvious? You are an excellent Naval officer -- a leader and inspiration to those who serve under you. You’re world-renown for your honor, your courage -- your passion. You prompt people to fight with you -- for you -- with a loyalty that even the King of England himself cannot boast. Were you a man, you would be someone I’d be very threatened by, indeed. But since you are a woman...I can appeal to your heart.”

Carewyn could feel his breath sliding past her ear and she couldn’t help but cringe. She stubbornly refused to look him in the eye, keeping her gaze firmly on the floor.

“I’m afraid my disinterest in the once-Miss Farrier was not a one-off thing, Lord Beckett,” she said very dryly. “Romance is not something I think about very regularly.”

Orion’s face rippled over her mind, making her heart ache. Oh, if he were there, in that room -- the thought of him seeing her letting herself get pushed around by the man who’d branded him and sent the Navy after him for piracy...it made her feel ill.

Beckett’s lips curled up in a slightly tighter, almost miffed smile as he pulled away just enough that he was facing the wall behind her rather than looking at her face.

“...Oh...no, Admiral...you misunderstand me. I know I own no part of your heart...but Captain Weasley, he most assuredly does.”

Carewyn’s head shot up so she could look at him, her expression stricken despite herself.

“Your younger brother is not nearly as useful as you, but he has shown great dedication to me, since I threw him a bone and ensured his promotion. It’s a loyalty I hope that you will likewise show me...especially considering that both you and he have been given access to information that few others have been...and that I would do just about anything to ensure doesn’t become common knowledge...”

Carewyn stared at Beckett, her shock giving way to cold hatred. 

“So that’s it,” she murmured. “You’ll hold Percy’s and my lives and livelihoods over our heads, to make sure that I don’t surpass you, somehow. How I don’t know, considering that the Navy is not part of the East India Trading Company, nor shall it ever be, but clearly you feel loyalty is something to threaten out of people, rather than earn -- ”

“The only thing one can really earn in this world, Admiral, is money, and therefore power,” Beckett cut her off sharply, “and I have no intention of losing either, now that I’ve earned both of which I’m owed!”

He turned to look Carewyn straight-on in the eye, their faces mere inches apart. Gone was any hint of attempt at gentlemanly poise -- there was a hard edge to his gaze, not unlike the way he’d looked at Jones, but because he was actually an inch or so taller than Carewyn, he seemed to relish the power he had looking down at her both literally and figuratively.

“You will use your talents to serve my interests,” he said under his breath, “and I, in return, will continue to reward you and your brother, by ensuring that your careers and lives flourish under me. It’s just good business.”

At sundown, Beckett and Jules met at the tiny island agreed upon. Jules strolled down the long, narrow beach toward the shoreline where they were to meet, Jacob on one side of her and Orion on the other. She’d originally wanted Bill with her, but McNully was able to persuade her that she’d look that bit more intimidating to Beckett if she arrived in the company of two of the most wanted pirate captains in the world, and even Bill had to agree. Jules was determined to stand between Jacob and Orion, though, considering that there was still a lot of tension between them.

Jules had been furious with Jacob, when she’d learned about the deal he’d struck with Davy Jones. Even if he’d originally planned to give Jones “a Cromwell” as in Charles or Blaise Cromwell -- two objectively bad people who had been largely responsible for Carewyn and Jacob’s abusive, unloving childhoods -- Jules was also confident in thinking that Carewyn would be horrified, knowing that Jacob was willing to enslave another person to Davy Jones, just to find her. Jacob refused to feel guilty for that, but he clearly was destroyed by the knowledge that his choice had put Carewyn in so much danger. It was apparent from the way he talked about it and the way his hands and shoulders shook with silent sobs that Jacob would’ve sacrificed himself a hundred times over, if it would guarantee Carewyn wouldn’t be harmed.

Orion, by contrast, hadn’t said a word since Jacob told them what was going on. Throughout the entire conversation, he’d had his hands clasped tightly in front of him and kept his gaze downcast, even taking time to close his eyes for long periods of time as if he were meditating. Despite his silence and his detached affect, his usually stoic expression and unsteady breathing betrayed genuine anxiety. At one point, Bill brought a hand onto Orion’s shoulder to try to comfort him, and Orion actually subconsciously smacked his hand away.

“I’m sorry,” said the Captain quickly, his voice very hushed and tense as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Just...please, don’t touch me.”

Bill, Charlie, and Jules all thought they could guess how Orion was feeling. Although the others had forcefully shot down the idea that Orion was the least bit responsible since he couldn’t have known the consequences of calling Carewyn by her real name, their words had done little to soften the Pirate Lord’s brow. If Orion’s past behavior hadn’t been indicative of how deeply he felt for Carewyn, then the way he clasped anxiously at his own hands and shut himself off from everyone else at the thought of her being doomed to spend the rest of her life trapped on board the Flying Dutchman made it crystal clear.

“Orion’s always valued his own freedom more than any kind of loot,” McNully murmured to the three Weasleys under her breath, “more than anything, really. And if he cares about the Commodore so much...”

“...He probably couldn’t bear it, if she lost hers,” finished Charlie, bowing his head and closing his eyes as they welled up with pain and righteous anger.

As Jules, Jacob, and Orion approached the shore, they caught sight of three people standing in the distance. The man in the middle dressed in black Orion identified as Cutler Beckett. On his left was an older woman as tall as Orion with hair as ginger red as Bill and Charlie’s that Jacob immediately recognized as Rakepick...and on his right was Carewyn, dressed in a new yellow-trimmed navy blue uniform and a black tricorn hat.

The three pirates stopped five feet away from the Head of the East India Trading Company and his two female companions, a notable sting of tension prickling at the air. Jules tried hard to keep her focus on Beckett, but her eyes were drawn to Carewyn despite herself. Although her friend faced Orion -- the person directly in front of her -- with a hard, stoic expression, she looked so pale. When Jules glanced over, she noticed out the side of her eye that Orion’s unreadable gaze was also locked on Carewyn, even as he took deep breaths through his nose and his hands clenched absently at his sides.

“Well, well,” said Beckett, his eyes narrowing darkly upon Orion’s face, “if it isn’t my old friend, Orion Amari.”

Orion glanced at Beckett out the side of his eye without turning his face away from Carewyn’s. Although his face remained rather calm, there was a faint edge to his soft-spoken response.

“...I did not think you were ever much in the market for friendship, Cutler Beckett...considering it’s something you cannot buy.”

His gaze returned to Carewyn. Beckett glanced from Carewyn to Orion, his lips curling up in a very cold smile.

“Ah, yes -- you and Amari are old friends also, aren’t you, Admiral Weasley?”

“Admiral?” repeated Orion, taken aback despite himself.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, and although her response was very cold, her eyes pulsed with emotion that she attempted to obscure by glancing to the side in Jacob’s direction rather than straight at Orion. “By order of the King, as a reward for my work alongside Lord Beckett.”

Jules could see Jacob’s jaw clench out the corner of her eye. She too felt like her heart was being squeezed. Carewyn no doubt hated her promotion with everything in her, if it was something she’d earned chasing after them on Beckett’s orders. Still...Jules couldn’t express that flat-out, so she put on the strongest expression she could.

“...I suppose congratulations are in order, then.” 

Carewyn flashed Jules a look. “I don’t want congratulations from you, Mrs. Weasley. Or should I call you ‘Your Majesty,’ now that you’ve started playacting as a royal?”

Jules’s lips came together tightly when she saw how broadly Beckett smirked. The small man’s reaction seemed to piss off Jacob too.

“You will show proper respect to the Pirate King,” he said with a fierce look at the Head of the East India Trading Company.

“Respect,” scorned Rakepick. “Is that a word you can even define, Black Jack?”

“As well as I could wring your neck, if I were allowed,” spat Jacob.

“I’m surprised your ‘Pirate King’ would want a man in her company who’s so comfortable threatening a lady’s life,” said Carewyn sharply.

‘Don’t start a fight with her,’ she thought desperately, praying that Jacob would be able to sense her intent even with the act she had to play. 

Unfortunately Jacob, as smart as he was, was never the best at reading people’s emotions -- and so when his narrowed eyes shot to Carewyn, she could see a flicker of pain. She surmised that even if he clearly didn’t think she believed what she was saying, it hurt him beyond reason, to see her having to defend the woman who’d tried to kill him.

Orion, however, very quickly adapted to the new method of “conversation,” fixing Carewyn with a calm, but piercing gaze.

“And I’m surprised that a honorable officer such as yourself would be so comfortable in the company of those with no honor whatsoever,” he said.

‘You’re in danger,’ Carewyn surmised he was trying to say. Her eyes narrowed upon Orion’s face.

“I beg your pardon?” she retorted. “I fail to see how a pirate has any leg to stand on, speaking of honor.” ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

“Even I have more honor than a captain who would burn an entire settlement to the ground,” murmured Orion. ‘Davy Jones.’

“Jones follows orders, as do we all...something else a pirate wouldn’t understand.” ‘What about Jones?’

"Orders...from Cutler Beckett, or from you? From what I’ve heard, you were on the Flying Dutchman yourself -- hardly a place one would expect to find Port Royal’s greatest hero.” ‘You must get away from Davy Jones. Get off of the Flying Dutchman.’

Carewyn’s blue eyes narrowed a bit more. First Rakepick wanted her off the Dutchman, and now Orion? Yes, Davy Jones was dangerous, but at present she found him much less of a threat than Beckett...

“A true hero knows that his reputation comes second to the good of the others,” she said very softly. “As does a loyal officer.” ‘I can’t leave.’

Something in Orion’s dark eyes flinched.

“Your older brother will be very disappointed, to know you’ve sold your loyalty so cheaply,” he said just as softly.

Carewyn felt her heart clench. She knew he didn’t mean Bill -- and yet the thought of both her surrogate brothers and Jacob was a silent knife to her back. She didn’t dare look at Jacob for fear her strong facade would crack, so she kept her focus solidly on Orion.

“I would think given your own history with Lord Beckett, you’d know full well how valuable of an ally he is, ” she shot back quickly, feigning temper as best she could, “and how dangerous of an enemy, as well. Both I and the brother who chose to follow the law rather than spit in its face are certainly glad for his aid, in ending your reign of terror.”

‘I can’t leave, not with what Beckett has over me and Percy. And if I do leave, then you’ll be in more danger than ever...’

Her eyes bore into Orion’s fiercely as she begged beyond reason he’d understand.

“...You may tell William...that I am no Bedlam maid in need of saving.”

‘You can’t help me. I love you.’

Deep in the depths of his sparkling black eyes, Carewyn could see a flicker of desperation, almost like anxiety. Afraid that Beckett might notice the crack in Orion’s expression, or in her own at the sight of it, she quickly whirled on Jules.

“He is the one who should stand down,” she said, her voice hardening further in an attempt to obscure her emotions. “All of you should, unless you wish to face down an entire armada.”

‘There are 34 Man O’ Wars waiting out there for you,’ she hoped Jules would be able to discern. Even if she didn’t know an armada had that many ships, Jacob and Orion would.

Jules, to her credit, matched Carewyn’s act with her own cold gaze. “Don’t underestimate us, Admiral Weasley. Both the British Navy and the East India Trading Company have done that consistently from the beginning.”

“And now we have come to the end,” said Beckett smoothly. “Of you and the rest of your Brethren.”

The others all turned to look at him. He flashed Orion a look better suited to a cockroach before redirecting his gaze onto Jules.

“Tell your Court this,” he said in an aloof, condescending voice. “You can fight, and all of you will die...or you can stand down, in which case only most of you will die. I daresay the Governor could be persuaded to spare you from the gallows, if you threw yourself on his mercy...and if I were to be merciful enough to leave out your new position, in my correspondence with the King...”

Jules’s dark eyes flashed with hatred as she strode forward, coming to a stop two feet from Beckett so she could glare right into his face.

“There are few things I can tolerate less than cowards who resort to blackmail just to make themselves feel powerful.”

She didn’t look at Carewyn, but Carewyn could sense Jules was thinking of her, as she said this.

“We will fight. And you’d best hope that we will show more mercy than you would, in our place.”

The Pirate King turned on her heel and walked away. With some reluctance, Orion and then Jacob turned away and strode quickly after her, leaving the other three alone on the shore.

“So be it,” said Beckett with a cold smile.

Carewyn couldn’t look at Rakepick or Beckett at her side. Her gaze was solidly locked on the departing backs of her brother, friend, and love as they began to shrink into the distance.

She’d never been very good at relying on or having faith in others...but in that moment, more than anything, she knew all she could do now was put her trust in Orion -- in Jules -- in Jacob -- in Bill and Charlie and all of the other pirates on Shipwreck Cove.

‘Please...please, be careful. Please be safe.’

In that moment of helplessness, she felt her heart ache all the more, watching Orion walk away. She closed her eyes, trying to bring back the memory of him standing shoulder to shoulder with her on the Artemis -- of him lying in bed as she tended to him, when they were young -- but it was no use. The graveness of the situation was too dire even for escapism...

Carewyn clutched her own arms behind her back. They suddenly felt so much heavier...as if there really were manacles there she couldn’t hope to break.

‘...Please...please live.’

On the opposite side of the island, both Jules and Jacob noticed the silent tears that had streaked down Orion’s face...but none had the heart to address it as they boarded the jollyboat that would take them back to the Artemis and to Shipwreck Cove.

At the same time that the pirates and the leaders of the British Navy were meeting, Davy Jones had been left behind on the Flying Dutchman with Percy supervising the troops. Beckett thought that Jones was threatened into line by how many soldiers were still guarding his heart, but thanks to Carewyn, Jones knew that Rakepick had stolen and relocated it. Now that he didn’t know where his heart was at all, he knew he couldn’t afford to move until he’d found it again -- and with Carewyn likely leaving the Dutchman with her new position as Admiral, it was likely it’d take a while before she could smuggle him any more information she might acquire about that. For the moment, though, Jones had put that concern on the back burner, for the Dutchman’s arrival near Shipwreck Cove gave him the opportunity to catch up with the Phoenix.

As luck would have it, when Jones phased through the Dutchman and onto the Phoenix, the ship was largely abandoned, since the crew had all gone ashore to Shipwreck Cove. The only person remaining was a small woman with long white hair, looking out to sea over the deck. In her hand was a pretty silver locket in the shape of a moon, the lid of which was cracked open so that a sweet, tinkling music box melody played.

Chia Dalma closed the locket half-way through the song, her eyes closing sadly as she clasped the locket close to her chest. She straightened up in shock, however, when she suddenly heard the rest of the tune echoing from behind her. She whirled around, to be faced with a giant, hulking shadow with writhing tentacles sprouting out from his jaw, holding an identical locket in his claw. Anyone would’ve been terrified at the sight -- but Chia looked upon the figure with tears in her eyes.

“Finn,” she breathed. Her lips were curled up in a weak smile, just as they had been before, but the joy was stained with so many other emotions -- grief, shame, and regret.

Davy Jones regarded Chia critically as he took several plodding steps toward her. “You know I haven’t been called that name in years.”

Chia bowed her head. “Nor have I been called my true name in years.”

Jones tilted his head, trying to read her expression better now she was looking away from him.

“I had not expected to find you like this,” he said very lowly. “You’ve never taken on such a small shape before.”

Chia’s eyes flashed with righteous anger as she raised her head. “That’s because this form is one I did not choose to take. It was thrust upon me by the Brethren Court.”

Jones straightened up slightly. His eyes narrowed to slits.

“...Then they did not kill or trap you. They transformed you.”

His voice was as low and growling as thunder. Chia clutched at the sides of her arms with her hands, her gaze smouldering with resentment as she glared down at the deck.

“Oh, but they did trap me,” she said bitterly, “trapped me in this single form, which can’t do even half of what I should be able to. I’ve been able to use what power I have to slow down the aging process, but this body still feels pain. This body still feels strain, and weakness, and hunger, and exhaustion, and longing...”

Something rippled over her eyes -- something more ashamed and pained.

“...I never knew...how much time truly weighs on a human,” she murmured.

Jones’s expression grew much more grim. “An immortal such as yourself should never have had to learn that.”

“Should never have had to, yes...but...”

She looked up at Jones, her gray eyes pulsing with strength despite the pain rippling within.

“...why did you not tell me, how long ten years felt for you? I have felt those ten years several times over, trapped in this tiny, fragile, helpless body every single moment -- and it’s...it’s been torture. To know you took the job I gave you -- only coming ashore once every ten years, so you could help me with the burden of tending to the dead at sea -- when ten years feels like that, to you -- ”

Chia’s eyes flooded with tears.

“I gave you the position of ferryman because I wanted to spare you from death,” she whispered. “Because if I didn’t give you that role and give you some of my power, you would’ve died. I’d never thought that those ten years would feel so long -- drain you so much...”

Jones was quiet for a long moment. Then he brought up his claw to brush her bangs from her eye.

“It’s only natural that you saw things the way an immortal would. Time is no object to you -- ten years no doubt felt like a small price to pay, in the face of your life span. And...”

His eyes became a bit smaller.

“...it’s not exactly like I wanted to die and be separated from you either. Even though part of me always doubted you’d be there waiting for me, when I returned...even though I resented you for years because you weren’t there...”

A ghost of a smile flickered over his features.

“...I know I shouldn’t have expected you to see things as I have -- to change yourself to suit me. If you did...you wouldn’t be the goddess I fell in love with, would you?”

Chia smiled up at Jones, her eyes shining with tenderness.

“I tried to make it back to you,” she murmured. “When the Court transformed me, I tried so hard to get there, to reach you...”

She extended her hands, tentatively trailing them along his tentacled face. Jones seemed to tremble at her touch.

“I know of the danger you’re in, Finn,” said Chia seriously. “As long as Cutler Beckett has your heart, I know you’re beholden to him. But I have allies among this newest Brethren Court. If they convince the others to break my chains, as I’ve foreseen they will...then as soon as I am free, I will come for you. I will make sure you and I are never separated again...and I will make sure your captors suffer the consequences, for hurting the man I love.”

As her small white hands held his face, Jones’s face and frame suddenly began to morph. In an instant, the slimy texture, the tentacles clinging to his face, and his claw all vanished -- and there stood the tall, handsome pirate she’d fallen in love with so long ago.

Finn McGarry’s face broke out into a broken, soft smile. He stretched out his hand, caressing his love’s human cheek with more gentleness than his claw ever could have.

“Calypso...” he murmured.

Chia’s face broke out into a full smile as well. She knew she couldn’t permanently remove the fishy transformation, as it was something that had mutated Jones over the many years they’d been apart, due to his heartbreak and grief...but seeing him looking so much like his old self after so long...it made her currently human heart swell with love.

“Just as you gave me your heart, when you became captain of the Flying Dutchman,” she murmured, “so too will you always have mine.”

[costellos]

tell me who you’d take on a date and where you would go! — CLOSED

@thisbloghasnoaesthetic​ asked: Id love to take Jotaro on a date. Just something chill. Like getting some good food. Or just sitting together doing nothing. I'd love to just read a book with my head on his shoulder. Just enjoying eachothers quiet comfort :)

omg that sounds like a great date for Jotaro! he definitely seems like the type to want a chill date. he’d probably opt for something that offers takeout if you’re referencing Part 3!Joot, somewhere a little nicer but just as casual if you’re referencing Part 4!Joot. and while you’re reading, you might just catch a teeny, tiny smile on his lips. but don’t say anything or you’ll ruin the moment 🤭💕

anonymous asked: i would wanna take kakyoin out to an indoor roller rink so we could rollerskate together 🥺 it’s one of the things i like to do most and i’d wanna skate around w him while holding hands! also cause he’s tall, i feel like it’d be hard for him to keep balance and prevent himself from falling lolll. but we could go out to an ice cream place nearby afterwards and watch the sun set (if the time is right) 💗

how cute!! sharing something you love with the one you love most... I dig it. Kakyoin would be soooo embarrassed, though! he just wants to impress you but his center of gravity is absolutely awful. rip. at the end of the day, however, he’d be so appreciative that you shared something so personal with him. ❤️ let him pay for the ice cream, it’s the least he can do!! and maybe hold your hand while you watch the sunset 🌅

@lavaicerinkk​ asked: I would ask mista, probably to like a concert or something like that. We'd probably go as homies, then when we get home id be like "what if we kissed haha" and hed be like 😳😳 ok, and then we live happily ever after

LMAAAAOOOOO. I feel like this is v in character for Mista.... he’d be caught so off guard by it! esp since he probably would’ve accepted that you were just friends. not that he’d say no, tho 👀 he’d just be like, “wait, for real?” and waste no time kissing you after you gave him permission. what a happy ending. 💕

@murcx04​ asked: Take someone on a date huh hmmmmm- Josuke is my bet HAHA Hed be so refreshing to be with óuò. And we'd go shopping kfbfjfn And that where- he'll just show his pleading eyes and want you to buy the shoes he wants oh boy-

I agree, he would be a very refreshing plus one! I think a shopping date would be v traditional with him. I’m imagining you both at the mall, where he cackles at all the weird sex stuff at Spencer’s and shares his food court soft pretzel with you. 🥨 he probably wouldn’t explicitly say that he wants new shoes, but he’d nudge you and be like, “hey. if you wanna know what to get me for my birthday...” and point to the Air Force 1′s on display. so subtle. 🙄

anonymous asked: tbh i think i'd like to take kira out to dinner and go on a walk. i know its a simple date but i think he's really neat and i don't really like big or flashy events and i don't think he would either kjfnksnjks. its just sumn that would suit both of us nice

ooo interesting choice, nonnie! I 100% agree with you on this one. Kira would probably take you to one of those restaurants that have private rooms. I think some ritzier places are like that? anyway, he’d want to focus this date all on you. no mindless chatter from other patrons, no screaming children — the more noise he can minimize, the better. and during your walk, I can see him allowing you to take the reins on the conversation. he just finds everything you say so fascinating! 🌷💗

@catnymous​ asked: I'd take Fugo first to just a simple lil cafe then to the park :3

Cat!! I missed you!! you should come into the askbox more often, I always enjoy your replies. in the meantime, Fugo probably overthinks a lot so this date would be casual enough for him to relax. he would probably opt for some coffee and a slice of cake that he can share with you 🍰❤️ and a stroll through the park would be the perfect way to walk off the calories! (plus when you get to a fountain he’ll probably make some corny wish about getting to spend more days with you like this a;sdfkjl)

anonymous asked: Idk if you’re familiar with part 7... but I would bring Johnny to the planetarium; it’s a place that I love, and bringing him to a place special to me would mean a lot, I think. I’d tell him all of my favorite things about space. And, it’s a little mushy, but I’d remind him that just because you can’t always see the stars doesn’t mean they’re not there; every one is special and the same is for people. And of course, it would be a fun day out to appreciate the beautiful things in the world

unfortunately, I’m not familiar with Part 7... :( but thank you so much for sharing nonetheless! this is such a heart-warming confession 💕 I wish there was more I could say; I love that you’d share all your favorite things about space, and how everything and everyone is special. 💫 such a beautiful confession. 

@serenityblaze44​ asked: I would take Bruno and/or Abbacchio to a conservatory or garden, maybe bring a picnic. Nothing too exciting, just time to relax and spend time together. Then go home for cuddles.

por que no los dos? ahaha nah I’m joking... unless 👀 no but for real, this sounds ideal for both of them! ❤️ they would both appreciate the time to unwind. I could see Abbacchio prepping all the food, while Bucciarati handles everything else (packing the blanket, utensils, alcohol, etc.). they’d probably opt for somewhere outside of Naples since it’s far too crowded in the city. afterwards, be prepared for a gr8 nap between two warm, loving boys!!

anonymous asked: I'd take Kakyoin on a date! I think it would be really fun to go somewhere like an amusement park or arcade so we could just kinda be stupid together and forget our problems. Id go on the Ferris wheel and try to kiss him at the top but he'd probably shake the cart the whole time to freak me out 😂😂 After everything he's gone through, he deserves to have a lot of fun and id love to see him smile 🥰😍

aw friend, this is such a sweet scenario! hopefully the Ferris wheel doesn’t give him too many bad memories of Death Thirteen though ope,, anyway, what a lovely way to forget about all the stuff he’s endured! he’d playfully challenge you to some arcade games (and I’m using “playfully” lightly here) and then destroy you. 🙄 but it’s okay, any tickets he gets will immediately go to a cute stuffed animal just for you 🧸

@hadesaedes​ asked: OOOH I’d have to go with either Yukako or Koichi (even tho i have like TWO hands either is fine). Yukako is a very passionate and strong lover which I LOVE cause im shy with affection so being bold with it is MWUAH. While Koichi is also passionate I like to think he enjoys more simple and low key dates which is my type of thing. Having to just bask in each other’s company without having to fill the silence is GREAT. THEY ARE BOTH GREAT!!! In this essay I will-

AHHH A+ CHOICES, FRIEND. Yukako and Koichi would spoil you so much!! they’d handle any date expenses (movie tickets, food, etc.) and would adore having any opportunity to hold your hand 😊 Yukako would probably be more physically affectionate; she’ll either have her hand on top of yours or her feet wrapped between yours when sitting. Koichi would opt for compliments, praising you on how cool and smart you are! wow, what a supportive pair 🤝

anonymous asked: It's very hard to choose, but I'd go on a date with Bruno. Idk I'm just very gay for him. He knows a lot of nice and fancy places in Naples, but since that's not really my world, I'd take him to a small coffee shop or something. Nothing fancy or expensive but still very enjoyable. Maybe some ice cream. Walking through the city and going to a restaurant in the evening. Maybe something fancy this time, or just a simple pizza

how lovely!! Bucciarati would honestly be open to try anything, but I think a small coffee shop would be v enjoyable for him. there’s so much you can learn about someone over a cup of joe. ☕ since he’s been living in / around Naples his whole life, he’d probably share some neat facts about the city while on your stroll! “the Amalfi Coast is best known for its limoncello liqueur. I know a great place to try it if you’re interested.” 🍋

@moloko-tyan​ asked: Hello, little bird💫sending you rays of love and positive energy! This new event is so much fun. Several hours I wondered with who I wanted to go out, ahah. And I think it would be Erina. She deserves to have fun especially after all those awful events in her life. We would go to atelier. We could go through fabrics to choose which fits the best. We would look at lovely laces, buttons, jewels and we would argue about models of dresses and evening gowns. I want her to feel safe🌻 thank u so much!

friend! I always get so excited when you pop into my askbox!! ty for participating 💕 Erina is such a great choice imo. and this is such a creative date! she’d have so much fun running her fingers over all the interesting fabrics. Erina would take the most beautiful dresses and hold them up against you, saying how lovely the color suits you. 👗 although she’d be too shy to try those dresses on herself, she would have so much fun spending the day with you!!

anonymous asked: I hope it's okay to send this (I honestly don't want you to get overwhelmed)! But if it's okay: I would love to take Fugo on a date! I love this boy with all my heart and I would love to travel with him to my country to a town next to the sea and give him a tour of its history (and visit the local art and history museums there)! And later grab some ice cream and walk along the seafront in the evening where there are less people and just enjoy the walk together as the sun sets. -Turtle Anon🐢

oooohh, Turtle Anon!! thank you for your concern. you’re all good, don’t worry! anywho, that’s a wonderful date for Fugo. he would have an absolute blast reading about all the art and history your country has to offer 🏛️ you might have to push him along though, he’s the type to absorb everything n really slow down when reading... but at the end of the day, as you’re walking along the beach, he’d thank you for sharing a part of yourself with him. he’d be so honored! ☀️

anonymous asked: tbh i'd love to take narancia on a super spontaneous date... only the date and time are set, the entire day is just going around town and doing whatever stupid fun random things,, eating street food and going into shops to try on random fits and running around laughing, mayhaps go to an arcade, or do some karaoke. and then wind down at like a mcdonalds late at night, tired but happy and satisfied.. hhh nara is v fun i just wanna hang out w him honestly 🤕😔🤕😔

yeeeess this is the perfect date for Narancia!! he loves spontaneous stuff like this. he’d have so much fun gorging himself on street food and playing around with weird fits. he’d probably put on the stupidest things he can find, like this. and if you go to karaoke, be ready to screech some absolute bangers. he will not take anything less than confident (yet bad), loud (yet joyous) singing. 🎤 n while he might be falling nodding off at the McDonald’s, he’d sleepily tell you how amazing the day was and how he wants to do this again 💕

@tomomi012​ asked: I'm going to share another ideal date idea, but with Kakyoin. I'd like us to go to one of those cat cafes in Japan. I mean, cats, coffee and a cute Japanese boy, is this heaven? and I would tell him: "Nori, today I am in heaven"

ofc, share all you want! omg... I love this idea..... Kakyoin would be so soft anytime a cat approaches him. he’d do a little “pspsps” and hold out his finger for them to smell. and once a cat actually nudges him, he’d just melt! he wouldn’t show it outwardly, but you can see it in how bright his eyes get. I think Kakyoin would be the type to either attract a ton of cats or cats hate him, there’s no in between. 😭❤️ both make for some gr8 scenarios, though! 

@pommmejuice​​ asked: for your post about taking a character on a date :,) i think i’d like to take abba to art museums/cultural centers ,, i’d love to talk to him about my culture and what life is like (if he’d be interested;; lol) n maybe afterwards while we get italian food he can talk to me about what italian culture is like, the parts that aren’t shown in the media 🥺 so uh a date where we’re both learning new things about each other hehe

n maybeeeee take fugo to a café where we can study together n talk about our favorite things in our lives/culture.... n maybe hold hands on the table and maybe stare into his eyes tenderly ... you know because he’s my BFF (Best Friend Forever) .. you know how best friends do.. 😳

ooo Ireeene I figured you’d say Abbacchio :3c but that’s such a cute date for him! ofc he’d be interested in learning more about you!! you wouldn’t see it, but every time you share something you that you love about your culture, Abbacchio’s gaze on you would be so loving... 💖 he adores that you’re sharing so personal with him (of all people!!). and he’d get a kick out of telling you misconceptions about Italy. don’t get him started on how much he hates the Mario Bros.

as for Fugo, he would react similarly. I could see him ask more questions about your culture, while Abbacchio lets you go on and on. he’s so interested in everything about you!! and the moment you hold his hand... wow... get ready to see some intense blushing... he wouldn’t pull away, but his attention would turn to something else and his stutter would be apparent. pull yourself together, Fugo! 😤

anonymous asked: I'd take Rohan on a date, I'm a lil gay for that trash man. Tbh, it would either be an amazing date or a total disaster. I think we'd plan something fun and relaxing, like going to an art gallery or seeing a movie, but we'd end up in an adventure because that's what keeps happening to Rohan for some reason. At the end of the day we'd go to a restaurant to put a normal ending to that strange day

HAHAHA omggg friend this is a pretty accurate description of Rohan’s life. I think he’d be really annoyed that the day ended up this way, but he’s glad that he got to spend it with someone he tolerates. 💕 Rohan would try to push past those feelings once you go to the restaurant. this date is still salvageable!! he might complain a lil, but ultimately, he’d try to focus on you and what you enjoyed 🥰

@xxbluejayxx​ asked: For the Jojo date thing, I'd take Abbacchio. Well not really picky about the kind of date, I feel a nice quiet one at home would be best. It could be a homemade dinner, a movie night, or both. When it comes down to it, for me anytime spent with someone I love is time well spent, and that is something I will willingly admit

this is such a peaceful date for Abbacchio! I agree, a quiet date at home would be best. 😊❤️ as I mentioned in other scenarios, he’d likely take over kitchen duties. no need to worry about anything, just tell him what you want and he’d whip it up for you! and when it comes time to watch the movie, he’d tell you to sit a lil closer to him... he’s not very good with verbalizing affection, but he loves when he can feel your skin against his.

anonymous asked: I reeally wanna take Polnareff on a date. He deserves it sooo much. He's such a handsome sweetie. Id turn on the charm for him for once, like he always does. I have a beautiful image in my head of an outdoor patio restaurant with hundreds of strings of lights. We both dress up and have a lovely meal under the stars and magical lights, and then our favorite song plays and we have a dance beneath the lights. I think it would be goofy and romantic, stepping on toes as we attempt to dance around 😍

ahhh Polnareff would be so flattered to have you flirt with him! he’d probably get a lil flustered since this is nicer than what he’s used to, but seeing you dressed to the nines would make make him go 🥵 likewise, he’d push himself through the situation by just focusing on you. and when you start dancing... wow!! he’d lose himself laughing and being absolutely miserable at showing his moves. but it doesn’t matter, because he’s here with you and everything is okay ⭐

@rat-makes-stuff asked: Ok so I would take Giorno back to my home state of Michigan. Mafia boss has got to be tired as hell, so what's better than walking through the woods and collecting rocks at Lake Huron (I'm biased that's my favorite lake no CAP). We would watch the sun set and then look at the stars when they come out. Wildflower picking, trying to see how many deer we can find, and picnics by the lake? Yes pleaseee

before I start, Tumblr wasn’t letting me tag you in this!! so I hope you still see my response :( anyway, this is such a relaxing date! Don Giorno would love to unwind in nature. he’d probably take some stones he found near Lake Huron and turn them into a bouquet of flowers for you! 💐and since he’s probably never seen the sky without light pollution, he’d be astonished at how beautiful the sky is. he wouldn’t be able to say anything, just pull you close to him and thank you for taking him out here 🌠

[jenoptimist]

florist!xiaojun

The flower shop was a new addition to the street. It was pretty; all pastel colored, decorated with beautiful flowers that were color coordinated and had Rainbow V  just above the entrance, a cute logo beside it that included an actual rainbow in a shape of a ‘V’ with two clouds and a sun. The brightness of the shop contrasted with the bookshop you worked at which was a dark mahogany, the only pop of color coming from the books that were on display and the gold plated letters of the name of the store. 

The job you had was a simple one, shelve and organize books and man the register, because of the small size of the shop. Usually you worked with Mark but because he requested a day off to spend some time with his friends, you were rostered with Johnny. The two of you played rock-paper-scissors to see who would have to redecorate the display tables and, unfortunately, you lost. You stuck your tongue out at Johnny as he laughed from where he stood behind the cashier, cheek in the palm of his hand as he stared out the window. 

There weren’t many customers that came into the shop, bookshops closing with the rise of the digital age, but the few that did were regulars. So, when a man with sharp features walked in like it was a runway, you did a double take from your position in the far corner of the room. Your eyes followed him, hand holding a book frozen in the air, as he went over to inspect the fiction section. Johnny coughed loudly, breaking you out of your trance, and flashed a shit-eating grin at you when you met his eye. After making sure that the customer wasn’t paying attention, you flipped off your coworker. 

Unlike large chains, the bookshop you worked at had cozy seats littered around so that the customer can have a little read before committing to buy anything. You thanked your lucky stars for it because it meant that you could secretly spy on the customer as he slowly flipped through the pages of a book that he picked up. He paid no mind as Johnny called you over, his eyes staring intently on the page.

“I’m going on my break,” Johnny smirked at you as he wiggled his eyebrows. Then he leaned down so that he could whisper in your ear. “You better have his number by the time I’m back.” You squawked, attempt to punch his arm ineffective when he dodged it and skipped away chuckling. You silently cursed at him as he exited the building. With your company gone, you decided to continue your task. You refused to look at the customer’s direction in fear of him catching you and never returning. But when you convinced yourself to allow just one, tiny peek, he was gone. You sighed wistfully, bidding him farewell in your mind.

*

The handsome customer was completely forgotten since you never saw him again. Well. It had only been a few days, so maybe you were being a little bit dramatic but honestly, the chances of him returning? Extremely slim. A lot of people came in to have a browse and never returned, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he had decided to do the same. So maybe you hadn’t forgotten but you probably should. 

“New book delivery?” Taeyong, a charming regular, asked as he saw you come from the back with a large box in your hands. Mark, like the sweetheart he was, wasted no time grabbing the heavy box from you and setting it near the small table that you set up near the counter. 

You hummed an affirmative. “Yep!” You replied as you began to cut open the box. “Taeil said we needed more popular books to attract customers.” 

“Ah,” Taeyong peeked at the box, “books like what?”

“Harry Potter!” Mark replied, then he scratched his head as his features pinched in confusion. “But he only got one limited edition set.” Taeyong ‘ooh’d in awe as you set the limited edition hard covered boxed set.

“How is it limited edition?” Taeyong asked curiously as he studied the box that you were placing on the table, “it doesn’t look like anything special.”

Although you silently agreed with him, you answered his question matter-of-factly. “Well this box that the books come in,” it was brown and trunk-like with handles and a privacy lock, “is the limited edition part. It also comes with some stickers.” You kept readjusting its position until you were satisfied. When you were finished you smiled at one of your favorite regulars, “so, T-yong, how’s your book? Tell me all about it.”

*

“So you don’t have his number?” You were on another shift with Johnny and all you could do was groan in response when the first thing he asked you was about the man he caught you gawking at. “It’s been a week, y/n!”

“Yeah and he hasn’t come back, now shut up.” 

The tall man shook his head at you, sighing dramatically, as he delicately placed his fingers on his forehead. “I expected more from you.” 

You guffawed. “You’re so annoying!” 

Johnny placed a hand on his chest, staggering backwards. “You wound me.” The two of you laughed as you continued to joke around while Jeno, a friend of Mark’s and a regular, snorted at your antics. This continued until you heard the soft chime of the bell ring, signalling that a customer walked in. “Uh,” Johnny said as he slowly removed his hold on your wrists, “we promise we’re normal?”

The sound of your hand hitting your face was loud enough to coax a laugh from Jeno. The man smiled, although it came out awkwardly, as his eyes drifted to the table where the Harry Potter books still remained. Nobody bought it yet and you suspected that it was because they weren’t willing to spend the substantial amount of money that it costed. The thought of spending that amount of money, for something that was essentially a box and some stickers, made you cry internally but you understood that some people were willing to spend that, and more, when it came to limited edition merchandise.

“I’ll take this, please.” The customer said, voice a pleasant timbre, as he began to approach the display table. Johnny, like the little shit he was, scurried off to pretend to be busy. “Can I?” He asked as he gestured to it. When you nodded, a brilliant smile made its way onto his face and he immediately lifted the trunk lid. Allowing him a moment to fawn over it, you half-heartedly pretended to price up some books that were laying by the register.

“Big fan?” You asked when he eventually placed the trunk on the table with extreme care.

“Oh yeah,” he breathed out, “the biggest.” Then, much to your delight, he started going on a tangent about the series. You listened, enthralled by his passion and beauty–if you thought he was handsome from afar, he was absolutely devastating up close; his stark brows were softened by the pretty shape of his eyes, his whole face lighting up when he smiled that made him look like a cute boy next door rather than the model you first thought he was. All that and his incredible jawline? You were surprised that you hadn’t fainted on the spot with the way he was looking at you as he spoke. “And, also, it is so out of character for him to laugh along with the others when Ron got his robes in Goblet of Fire for the Yule Ball. He knew what it felt like to get hand-me-downs, so they made a mistake on the producers part. They should have stuck with his reaction in the book.” When he finished his rant, he looked sheepish. As if he had forgotten himself for a moment. “Sorry,” he mumbled as he shuffled slightly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I got, uh, a little carried away.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled kindly as you began to ring up up his item, “I didn’t mind.” From somewhere behind the Harry Potter fan, you heard Johnny try to cover up his laugh by coughing and it took all your willpower not to you roll your eyes and flip him off. Instead you continued to smile brightly at your customer. “Thank you! We hope to see you again!” You chirped as he walked away with his purchase. When he looked back and smiled at you, you definitely melted on the spot.

“We hope to see you again!” Johnny mimicked, his voice shrill, as he flipped his hair. Jeno snickered along with him.

“I do not sound like that!”

*

It was a few days later and, upon Taeil’s request, you made your way to Rainbow V across the road. You checked your pocket to see if the money you were told to take from the cash register was still there, you didn’t want to lose it and have to spend money that you didn’t have, as you walked into the fragrant store. 

You didn’t see anybody but could hear the low strumming of a guitar somewhere. It was a pleasant sound that you listened to as you inspected the different flower arrangements. Taeil wanted to decorate the bookshop a little bit by adding a vase of flowers here and there to ‘jazz up’ the atmosphere with a pop of color. He also planned to add a menu for teas and coffees for those who wanted to stay and read for a little bit in the shop in the near future.

“Sorry about that,” a familiar voice said. You spun around to find none other than Harry Potter man. “I–” he paused when he finally laid eyes on you, “hey it’s you!” If the smile that made its way onto his face made you fall in love with him a little bit, that was nobody else’s business but your own. “What brings you here?” 

“My boss wanted me to buy some flowers to make the shop a little more colorful.” You paused for a moment before adding, “any recommendations?” 

“Plenty!” He replied cheerily then backtracked. “Not that the shop is ugly or anything! Just, uh, I know a lot about flowers?”

“Nice save.” You giggled. 

For the next fifteen minutes or so, he took you around the shop and told you which he thought would suit the atmosphere and which ones would compliment the smell of books. You were thankful that he did and just picked any random bunch of flowers, sure that Taeil would be easily pleased with any bouquet that you chose.

“Great choice!”

And with that he lead you over to the register as made some small talk about the weather. You responded readily, commenting on how it was meant to be sunny for the rest of the week. Just as you took out money to pay for your purchase, a tall man came from the door behind the register. Your jaw almost dropped at the sight of him. Were all florists this attractive or did Rainbow V just happen to attract them? He nodded at you, smiling widely, before nudging your cashier. They spoke in rapid, you listened intently, Cantonese. Not that you understood a word they spoke. Although something stirred within you when you realized that his voice had gotten deeper when he spoke the language. After shoving the taller man away, who was laughing merrily, your cashier smiled shyly as he gave you your change. 

“Thanks a lot, uh.”

“His name is Dejun! Xiao Dejun!” His companion shouted from the other side of the store. Dejun shouted something at him in Cantonese again but the other man only snickered in response.

“Thanks Dejun.” You beamed. 

“No problem.” 

As you took the bouquets you said, “my manager is going to start, like, selling tea and stuff soon if you ever want to come over and read.” Dejun nodded, smiling at you and you took that as your cue to leave.

“He’ll be there!” His friend bellowed just before you took a step out of the building and you couldn’t contain your laugh when Dejun said something in Cantonese, sounding exasperated.

*

The day Taeil decided to begin his plan of selling refreshments to customers, Dejun had made an appearance–just as he had ever since he sold you the bouquets a few months ago. In fact he made sure to consistently bring you fresh bouquets every morning for the store, never failing to chat with you whenever he did. He flashed a quick smile at you as he made his away over to his usual spot, a seat in the far corner that was adjacent to the cash register. This always gave you a good view to admire him as he read. 

“It’s your turn.” Mark said as he handed you the menu. 

“It is not!” You responded. Somehow, in between the days when you weren’t rostered, Johnny had managed to inform Mark all about your small crush on the florist. And now they were in cahoots with one another. They didn’t even try to be sneaky about it! They were so obvious about it because whenever Dejun walked in, they suddenly remembered something that Taeil had specifically told them to do. 

“It is!” Mark replied. If he were Johnny you would have cursed at him but, no, he was adorable Markie-pumpkin who was always trying his best and helped you whenever he could. That and he gave you his puppy eyes, pouting at you. 

“You’ve been hanging around Johnny too much.” You sniffed as you swiped the menu from his hands. He did nothing but smile at you innocently.

The closer you got to Dejun, the more nervous you got. You wanted to turn around and not offer him anything but alas he had already spotted you walking over to him and dropped his book onto his lap, thumb stuck in between the pages so that he wouldn’t lose his place.

“Hey, y/n.” He smiled.

You greeted him back with a smile of your own and thrust the menu in front of him. “Would you like to order anything?” 

Dejun took the menu from you and scanned it intently. It was a few minutes of silence before he said, “what’s your favorite?”

Taken back you scrambled to remember the items on the menu. “The cha-yen is quite good! The condensed milk really adds a nice sweetness to the orange blossom infusion and the other spices included.” 

“Oh really?” He hummed as he lowered the menu, eyes lifting to stare at you. “My friend Yongqin who works with me grew up in Thailand and makes the best cha-yen. Or, well, he claims that he does anyway.” Your brows lifted in interest. “I’ll have it and rave to him about it.” He said as he returned the menu to you. When you took it, he continued smiling at you for a little bit longer before relaxing back into his seat.

“Wow. He’s, like, really in love with you y/n!” Mark immediately whispered as you approached the counter. You lightly slapped his upperarm which made him raise both of his hands up in mock surrender. “He totally is! Oh my goodness, I need to tell Johnny!” And with that, he fished his phone out of his pocket and began texting your friend.

After you served Dejun his drink and returned to your position by your counter, you felt a series of buzzing from you pocket. When you slyly took a peek, the notifications were from none other than Johnny. You stared at Mark accusingly as you quickly read over the texts. He did nothing but smile sweetly in return.

“I hate you both.”

*

“You two are so pathetic.” Taeil said as he slid in the seat opposite to you. It was one of those rare days when he visited the shop and closed it for an hour so that all the employees on the shift, and whichever regular was present, could eat together with the food that he bought. You scowled as you tore apart your wooden chopsticks with more force than necessary. From beside him, Johnny hummed in agreement as he slurped his noodles. 

“I hope you choke.” You replied to which he flipped you off.

“I hate to say it,” Taeyong said as he took the seat beside you. “But he’s right.”

Your jaw dropped. “Not you too!” You then turned to stare at Mark and Jeno, who happened to be passing by when Taeil was approaching the shop, groaning when they wouldn’t meet your eyes guiltily. “Does nobody here love me?”

“No because Harry Potter boy is the only one who does.” Johnny retorted. You crumpled up a piece of tissue and threw it at his direction. He stuck his tongue out at you when you missed. 

“And, anyways, there is no way he is pathetic.” Johnny and Taeil groaned. “He isn’t!” 

“So why hasn’t he asked you out yet, then?” Jeno asked before taking a big bite of his food.

“Because he doesn’t like me at all.” You replied as you blew on your food. After taking a bite, you looked up to find them staring at you as if you were an alien. “What?”

“Oh my goodness.” Mark griped as he dropped his head onto the table dramatically. Jeno patted his back and shot you a look that was a mixture of disappointment and disbelief.

“Like I said,” Taeil piped up, mouth full of food. “Pathetic.”

“Alright that’s it. I’m quitting.”

“No you aren’t.” They all chirped in a freaky kind of synchronization. 

You hated that they were right.

*

The next morning you found yourself facing a man with cropped, silver hair. He smiled brightly when he spotted you, large bouquets in hand. “Y/n, right?” When you nodded in response, he placed the bouquets on top of the counter. “Xiaojun couldn’t make it, so he asked me to give these to you. But he said he’ll be by later.” He finished with a wink.

“Oh, uh, thank you!” 

“So, Xiaojun mentioned something about the cha-yen being amazing here?” He said while mirrored your smile and, yeah, you were pretty sure that it was a requirement that people who worked in Rainbow V to be attractive. There was no way there wasn’t with the way the staff looked.

“You must be Yongqin!” You said as you remembered what Dejun had said months prior. 

Yongqin straightened his posture, looking immensely pleased. “He’s talked about me?”

“He’s talked about all of you.” 

“Okay then I’ll take seven of those!” After quickly whipping up his orders, trusting that Mark could hold up the fort, you gave at to him at a discounted price. Yongqin tried to pay it for the full price but you refused, insisting that it was the least you could do because of all the flowers Dejun had been kind enough to drop by everyday. “Oh alright,” he said as he gave up and tucked away the remainder of his money. He paused for a moment, hands on the bag you placed the drinks in, then grinned at you as his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Since you gave me those on a discounted price, I’ll tell you a secret.” He waved you over to him. When you did he whispered in your ear, “our Xiaojunie always makes sure you have a bouquet arranged by him even though he has a day off.”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart jumped at the thought of him taking care in arranging a bouquet and delivering it to you himself.

“Mhm,” Yongqin hummed. “Have you ever asked Xiaojun about the flowers?”

Your forehead creased. “No?” You replied, still in shock.

“Never?”

“Never.”

Yongqin hummed before gripping onto the bag and swinging it by his side. “You should ask him what the flowers mean.” And with that he wiggled his fingers at you then spun on his heel and left. 

Several thoughts swirled in your mind after your encounter with Yongqin. What had he meant about the flowers? Of course you knew that different flowers had different meanings but you weren’t proficient in floriography. It never occurred to you to ask Dejun about the flowers he gave you for the shop recently, either, because the one time that you did, he just remained mute and thrust the bouquets towards you and then practically ran away. You had always just assumed that Dejun gave you whatever flowers he had on hand but you thought there had to be something going on with the look that Yonqin gave you. Then your thoughts switched onto Dejun. Precious Dejun who went and arranged bouquets to give to you for the shop even though he had a day off. 

When the person running around in your mind walked in, you attempted to appear casual–as if you hadn’t spent the entire afternoon waiting for him to walk in. Johnny snorted at you and wandered off, claiming to have something to do. But not before pointedly inclining his head at the florist and then staring you down. 

“Hey,” you greeted as he walked up to the register rather than his usual spot. You noticed that he didn’t have a book in his hand like he normally did and frowned. “Not staying long?” You asked, swallowing the disappointment that threatened to crawl up.

“No,” he replied before hastily adding, “but could I, uh, maybe borrow you for a few minutes?”

As you opened your mouth to respond, Johnny did it for you. “Yes! Absolutely! They’re free!” Your head snapped to where he was speed walking towards you, giving him a look that said, ‘are you serious?’.

Dejun shifted his weight onto his other foot. “Are you sure?”

“Yep! Definitely! I mean, look at this place! It’s basically a ghost town!” With that, Johnny placed his hands on your shoulders and steered you until you were beside the florist. “Keep them away as long as you need to!”

You felt your palms begin to sweat when Dejun held his hand out towards you so before placing your hand in his, you wiped it on your jeans. As he lead the two of you out, you turned to give Johnny a freaked out look that he returned with a thumbs up and a goofy smile.

Curiosity gnawed at you as Dejun walked the two of you over to Rainbow V, which had a ‘Closed’ sign on the front. You remained silent as he lead you to the back room where Yukhei appeared from when you first walked in. Dejun gestured you to take a seat and when you did, he immediately spun around to grab his guitar that was leaning on the wall by the seat across from you. You didn’t have time to ask him what was going on because when you finally were about to ask, he gave you a nervous smile and started strumming. Just when you thought he couldn’t be anymore perfect, he began singing. You swore that you soul ascended into a different plane of existence with each note that he sang, making sure that he looked directly into your eyes as he did so.

You immediately began clapping as soon as he ended. “That was– You were so–” you had difficulty finding the right words of praise. “Oh my God, Jun-jun, you are so talented.” A smile blossomed on his face, bowing his head as he accepted your compliments. “What was that song, by the way?” You asked. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“I, uh, wrote it.” Dejun cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders. “I wrote it for you.” He said with more confidence than the last time. Your jaw dropped as you began to stand up but he stopped you by holding out a hand and saying, “hold on, I need to get something.”

A song. He wrote a song for you. He wrote you a song and performed it for you. If you hadn’t been sitting down when he told you, you were pretty sure you would have swooned. That had to mean he had feelings for you, right? You were pretty sure that nobody just went around writing songs for people they didn’t have feelings for. It was like the time Taeyong told you that he made a mixtape for his crush. Nobody went around doing stuff like that casually. 

When he returned, bouquet in hand, nervously meeting your gaze you couldn’t help but melt. Dejun pushed out the bouquet towards you as he lowered his gaze. Slowly, you took them from him as you stared at him in disbelief. Suddenly, Yongqin’s words from earlier came back to you and you spoke before he could.

“What do the flowers mean?” You asked him softly.

“Well,” he breathed out, “the bouquet I arranged for you is a mix of tulips, purple and red roses, baby’s breath and alstroemeria, or, uh, Peruvian lilies. Obviously,” he licked his lips, “they’re all different flowers. But I arranged them together and gave them to you because I want to tell you that I like you. And that all of the flowers I’ve ever given you for the bookshop has always had something to do with my feelings for you.” He took in a quick breath before continuing. “I want you to know that it’s alright if you don’t like me back but if you do, would you maybe want to go on a date with me?”

“Wait,” you said as you lowered the bouquet, “you mean to tell me that you’ve been, what, confessing to me all these months?” Dejun looked at you through his lashes, wincing ever so slightly before he nodded in response. “Oh my God, you absolute sap! Yes, of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

Dejun’s head snapped up, eyes full of disbelief. “What?”

“I said yes, dummy, now come over here and kiss me.” He wasted no time in doing what he was told, walking up to you with purposeful strides. You gently laid the bouquet on the chair behind you and just had enough time to see the desire in his eyes before you closed your own as he leaned in to kiss you. “Maybe I’m a little bit in love with you.” You whispered when the two of you pulled away.

“That’s good,” he replied, eyes shining with adoration as he huffed out a small laugh. “‘Cause I’m a little bit in love with you too.”

[hannahhistorian92]

RBG - Heroine

I know I live in NZ, and can't control or partake in what is going on in America (which stresses me out beyond belief every fucken day since Trump became president, particularly throughout 2020!), but it really does frustrate me when people outside of America don’t realise the impact what happens in America has on other countries throughout the globe. 

RBG was one of my many heroines who inspired me to learn and look beyond the obvious. The fact she was small gave me hope that height and size did not dictate what you could do in life (I’m rather short as well). She was not afraid to be herself and challenge the patriarchal system, she wasn’t afraid to show her intelligence and prove that women are just as important as men, that women belong in a law court just as much as the classroom or the doctor’s surgery. 

Losing her has hit me hard. Losing a role model hasn’t been this hard since Steve Irwin passed 14 years ago. This is hitting me even worse. Firstly, because of how revolutionary she was, how important she was, how she changed laws and history for women, in America but also around the world. She proved that women could do anything, to not apologise for being who you are, and challenging the norm isn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

I think it hits worse because of the current political climate. In NZ, we’ve got two female leaders running for government - Jacinda Ardern and Judith Collins. To me, one has the people’s best interests at heart, who wants everyone to have equal opportunities and who actually cares. The other is nothing more than a female Trump to a point. I can see the impact Trumpism has had on our country - the Christchurch massacre, the growing acceptance of hate speech, racism, homophobia and antisemitism. And to think this oompa-loompa could now sway the Supreme Court to an overall conservative majority, particularly as he will probably choose a younger person as well, thus impacting laws for decades to come. What happens in America can set a precedent around that world. If Roe v Wade is overturned, what will stop other countries rolling back protections that allow women to have control over their own bodies? It won’t. Plain and simple. What about rolling back Obamacare/Affordable Cares Act which grants affordable access to medical care? The list could go on and on. 

One thing that has struck me though, which isn’t really surprising to be completely honest, is the reaction of the right. Already Moscow McConnell has said he wants to push through a nominee - utterly going against his statement in 2016. He will stop at nothing to acquire more power. It’s disgusting. Trump has already said he will have a nominee some time next week. RBG hasn’t even been gone 48 hours. What sickens me the most is the comments. The fact that a hashtag ‘RBGisDeadParty’ was immediately trending on Twitter is barf-inducing. Comments like ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead’ or “Long may she burn in hell’ just show how accepted it has become for hate speech. Even seeing Trump supporters at his North Carolina rally chanting ‘Fill Her Seat’ and Trump agreeing is just beyond the pale. She hasn’t even been gone 48 hours and already the hate speech and slogans have emerged. One comment that struck me, beyond all else, was using God’s Will as reasoning for why she died now - so Trump could control SCOTUS. Now I am not the most religious person, but SERIOUSLY?! I HATE people who use religion to justify hate. 

I hope like hell America gets out and votes from Biden/Harris. Never has this been more important for America and the World. Another 4 years + of Trump could totally and utterly screw up the world beyond repair. Yes, the world is already screwed up, but imagine another 4 years of Trump with control of SCOTUS - the destruction he could wreck could very well be irreversible. 

And the last word for RBG -

Thank you for setting a precedent for proving women are equal to men. Thank you for paving the way for women in so many areas of the law. Thank you for showing that unapologetically being yourself is okay and you deserve people in your life who accept you as that. 

May your memory be a blessing and May your memory start a revolution <3 

[heathered-beinn]

BTS American Hustle Life Ep4

Ep 3 recap: BTS are in LA to learn about hip hop. During that episode they met their dance teacher, Jenny Kita. She set them a few challenges including a solo demonstration, a dance battle against professional dancers, and the task of choreographing a dance routine in small groups. J-Hope’s dance skills shone the brightest throughout which was both a surprise and a delight! Jin, despite being the least proficient dancer in the band, tried really hard and it paid off in the final challenge – he and J-Hope were deserving winners.

We also started to see the friendships between the band members more, which was quite lovely. I really hope this continues in the series.

 On to Episode 4!

Holy cow, that dorm is an absolute pigsty. Ewwww! The amount of water bottles alone makes me want to cry.

Lol, I wonder how RM and Jimin ended up having to clean the dorm up?

They did a good job with it though and somehow managed to find some fun in between. The bathroom scene was hilarious!

Like last episode Jimin appears to have dropped some of his mask. Maybe I’m just seeing things but in this ep he just seems a little softer around the edges - more playful rather than loud and over-the-top. I think RM is good company for him. I’m not sure how to word it without accidentally making it look like I think the other lads treat him poorly (which I don’t believe they do!!) but I think RM is quite respectful to Jimin? As the leader RM’s attention will be pulled in many directions and when he can give spare undivided attention he probably spends it more on his elder bandmates as they are closer to his own age. However, I get the sense that when he does focus on Jimin he does it with the kind of patience and gentleness that the others are maybe not quite so liberal with? That’s not to say he won’t tease Jimin or joke around with him (he does) but so far it comes across as a little warmer than the others perhaps because he’s naturally gentler in nature? I’m probably talking out my **** here but that’s just what I’ve sensed.

One final thing: Jimin’s English is really improving!

So while Jimin and RM are cleaning the dorm, Suga, V, and Jungkook are on laundry duty. LMAO how is that fair? I was thinking that the “chores” were punishment for losing the challenge in Ep3 but Jimin and RM were so close to winning and yet seem to have been given the worst chore?

LOL, how can those three lads make laundry seem so complicated??

They really are big kids – I’m glad they can find ways to have fun though. But ewwwwwwwwww Jungkook, the 3/5/7/10 second rule is a myth, don’t eat things off the ground – particularly in a foreign country!!

Woah!!! they licked each other’s ice creams without hesitation!

To be honest I think it is more of a reflection on my own culture rather than theirs that this seemed so surprising to me. Generally sharing food without the ‘ew that’s got your spit on’ and other hang-ups – particularly between boys - ends around 8-10 years old here.

Jungkook sweetie, I really doubt you’ve put on much weight – are you sure you haven’t just grown another few inches? It certainly looks like you’ve grown. At this point you might end up towering over Suga and Jimin.

Ah so Jin and J-Hope are food shopping. So maybe these chores are not punishments for losing the challenge. I’d still like to know how Jimin and RM got the short straw to clean the dorm lol.

Oh good grief, BTS cooking – after their challenge in the first series I dread to think what poor concoction they’re going to come up with.

OK so J-Hope’s cheese sticks verdict… V = X, RM = XX, Jimin (so cute as he bounded over like an excited puppy) = too polite to use his new English word “disgusting”

Jin’s ham on toast concoction: LMAO at Jin blowing on the forkful before feeding Jimin. No comment on Jimin’s tongue action though…

It seemed to taste okay judging by Jimin’s reaction. RM does not agree lol. It was cute how Jin was feeding the rest of the toast to Jimin and Jungkook like a parent feeding infants.

After what I wrote earlier about RM it’s nice to see the other lads interacting with Jimin more. I wonder if some of the impatience that occasionally comes across is simply down to the editing?

So we move on to a new day and the whole group are heading to Long Beach by foot. Crikey, Jungkook looks like he’s grown another inch over night!! Why on earth is he wearing two layers in the LA heat???!!

It’s great to see that BTS are still ‘star struck’ by celebrities. I guess, back then, the band were not that well known – at least not like they are now. They certainly did not cross my radar – not like 1D did.

LMAO – V randomly saying he drooled when he saw Warren G. What?????!!!!

Warren G seems a great guy; very chill and calm with the band. *Again I’m going to say it but I love how BTS have the confidence to say another man looks handsome like they did when admiring the photo in the record store*

Yeah Warren G is a really decent guy.

There’s something fundamentally poetic in the way that Jimin said of Warren G, Snoop Dogg, Nate, (in a tone of amazement and disbelief) “They were just elementary kids but became legends”. I mean, BTS were once ‘elementary school’ kids and while, in that moment, Jimin did not know how big the band would get, the same sentiment applies to BTS.

So their new challenge is to write lyrics based on their own lives to Regulate.

Good boys; slapping on the sunscreen – thumbs up for skin care!

Oh good grief Jin, if the American dorm is slowly becoming like your Korean dorm then I shudder to think what state your Korean dorm is in!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oooh so the band are opening up a little about their lives in order to make lyrics for their rap.

After a bit of travelling by bus and making friends with the locals, Jin and J-Hope settle down in a park to talk. We learn Jin started off acting and not singing? Now that’s interesting! Not all of BTS had joining a band or even BTS’ music style in mind from the beginning. Jin also has a brother and he was into hip hop so Jin had some knowledge of it before joining the band.

J-Hope’s turn and he admitted when he first joined the band everyone was a rapper and he was the only dancer which made him feel remote.

This, again, is really interesting to learn as this was the scenario I was pinning on Jimin – unless there were different BTS members back when J-Hope joined? I really don’t know how the band was formed so I hope at some point they talk about this. I liked how Jin admitted he was surprised to hear about J-Hope feelings. They should talk like that more often.

RM and Jimin travel to another part of town – near the school/college that some of the most famous rappers in the music industry attended. I really like the motto of the building “Enter to learn go forth to serve”. I’m not American so I don’t know it’s true connotations but to me it’s simple and strangely compelling. Like; ‘We don’t care who you are either come in and learn and repay by using it to serve the community - or travel forth on down the street and sign up for the army and serve that way. There’s a purpose for everyone.”

RM and Jimin talking <3

Jimin’s answer to what he found difficult when he joined the band is fascinating. While the translation felt a little off, it reads as he cares a lot about what others think of him and doesn’t want to let anyone down or let any of his (self-perceived) shortcomings hold others back. In order to achieve this he spent a lot of time trying to catch up or improve so that no one could easily spot his weaknesses. Ultimately, he wants to care less what others think of him so he can lose some of the pressure? I really think there is a lot more to this “want to care less about what others think” than the vague answer he gave (or was edited in). His starting phrase “I should live quietly for the sake of my team” was quite a loaded sentiment and didn’t quite follow what he said next – definitely some careful editing there.

RM’s sentiment echoes this. He talked about seeing a very over-weight man walking around LA topless and admired the man’s confidence to not care what other people thought. RM wants some of that confidence to stop constantly watching out for what others thought about him. This is the type of pressure many celebrities talk about a lot. In my opinion, any one remotely “famous” are seen as role models (rightly or wrongly) and society holds them to ridiculous standards. Make one mistake and that’s you cancelled like you are some item in a shop that can be returned for a refund. I personally think people have a very skewed idea about what makes a ‘role model’. For me, a role model shouldn’t be perfect but when they do make mistakes they should own up to it, apologise, and attempt to fix or make up for any hurt caused. We, as their fans, need to relearn how to accept an apology, forgive human errors, allow people to learn, and move on. Min rant over.

Moving on: Suga, V, and Jungkook are down near the beach front discussing their lyrics. The way V instantly thought of his Dad tells me he’s quite family orientated. It was touching the way he said he made him the person he was today.

Jungkook’s thoughts where based more on his internal thoughts of himself as a person and a musician. It was very honest of him to admit that back home he’d been pretty confident of his talent but once he joined (BigHit?) he quickly realised there was a lot of people with as much, if not more, talent than him and it knocked his confidence. I wish Suga had spoke more about his own thoughts rather than just write the lyrics.

 Challenge Day:

To be fair, all three groups rose to the challenge and not only had some great lyrics but sounded polished and rehearsed. We only got snippets of the songs but from what we did hear I would struggle to pick a winner. I guess, for me, it would feel like picking one’s persons’ struggles over another’s. Hard to judge.

Lol at Suga oversharing about being in the toilet when he was writing *crying with laughter face*

Awww, Suga, V, and Jungkook won. They definitely tried harder with this challenge than the one in ep 3 so I felt it was deserved.

Final musings:

Another interesting episode. I think the band learned a lot more about hip hop this episode and Warren G was a real gent. We also learned more about each band member in terms of their thoughts and experiences when joining the band. We (I) also learned more about their personalities which hadn’t been so clear in previous eps and series. I think the editing can misconstrue some moments so I’m probably going to re-evaluate my musings on each band member from time to time – this is a good thing though!

Looking forward to ep 5!

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Chapter 4

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: The job interview continues, and Yoongi finally takes an interest

Author’s Note: I wrote a massive amount of this story last weekend and I am super happy with it. I can’t wait to share the rest of the chapters with you guys each Thursday <3 

Previous chapter here  ---------------------------------

You left Grindhouse feeling better about the job. Mostly. It was clear that Kim Namjoon, you resolved to try and use his real name in case you ended up working together, wasn’t your biggest fan but he did respect that you had researched the position. 

Parts of the job were definitely strange. The strangest part? Agreeing to get married if the client decided “he wanted to.” No pressure. Totally a normal thing.  You thought back to the interview

--------

“I’m sorry. So this is like a mail-order bride type thing?” You wrinkled your brow in confusion.

“Technically internet-order bride, and don’t make that face, it will give you wrinkles,” Namjoon replied waving his hand in front of his face.

“Ok fine. Walk me through a day in this job.”

“Huh. This is usually where half the girls laugh at me and leave.”

You awkwardly shrugged your shoulders and waited for him to answer your question.

“Wake up, check the itinerary for the day. A work schedule will be emailed to you every morning by 7 am. Ensure the client makes it to their appointments on time, accompany the client to events both domestic and international, organize small social events. Any and all of these things. Whatever the client asks for. I’m sure he’ll have work for you to do. You are also responsible for posting appropriately to social media about your burgeoning love story,” Namjoon looks boredly over at the door, surprised that Yoongi never came back.

You wrote down some notes. “ Will I be provided social media accounts? I don’t really want to use my own. “

“Yes, they would be monitored and managed by BigHit behind the scenes.”

“Ok.” You jotted a few things down. “I saw that I would be living on-premise. Would I still be able to see my family and how far away is the location?”

“Yes. The apartment is actually at BigHit Headquarters. Several floors are dedicated to staff apartments. You may see your siblings if you put in appropriate time off requests and mark yourself out. You may not skip important company events. You must also sign a nondisclosure agreement upon the beginning of the contract. Your family and everyone else can’t know you are being compensated for your role outside of personal assistant. As you can imagine, it would look bad for the company.”

“Ok. That makes sense.”

“One last question [Y/N]: Why are you so nonchalant about this job? The marriage stipulation had most of the girls running off. And I can’t tell you how many cards I handed out that never signed in.”

You pouted, “ And here I thought I was special.” You laughed dryly as he rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’m not getting any younger. Dating sucks. I might as well get paid to do it.” You flipped your hair behind your shoulders. “This is a lot of money. If I end up getting married, it’s just a piece of paper. As long as the guy’s not a total asshole I really don’t care.”

“Oh yeah?” Namjoon clicks his pen a few times, “What if he’s really ugly? Is the money good enough to make up for that?”

You don’t miss a beat, “I’m more of a personality gal myself. Which may explain why you and I aren’t exactly hitting it off,” you mused and he just laughed at you, beginning to acclimate to your dry sense of humor.

“Yeah. That’s why.” He rolled his eyes. “All  right. We’re done here. If you make it to the next round you’ll receive an email within the next few days.

----

Well that was a fucking disaster, Namjoon thought as he walked back over to the office. Three. He had started with 50 cards distributed. 20 returns. And three candidates that showed an interest after finding out more about the job. He groaned. Why had BPD thought this was a good idea? He took his phone out as he entered the lobby and to Namjoon’s absolute shock he saw that Yoongi had scheduled a meeting for the two of them that afternoon. 

Two things were extremely out of character: one that Yoongi had even scheduled a meeting at all; most of the time Yoongi had to be dragged, kicking and screaming, to the meetings. Two, that he actually took the time to put it in the agenda. He most often showed up when he felt like, walked into Namjoon’s office, bypassed a yelling Jimin, and then complained about something. 

Namjoon rode the elevator up to his floor. He didn’t get a chance to eat since the interviews had taken all of his lunch hour. He exited and walked over to Jimin. “Order me lunch. Surprise me.” 

“Of course Sir,” Jimin dutifully replied and pulled up the food ordering App. 

“Thank you. When Yoongi gets here send him on in.”

Jimin straightened up a few items on his desk, “Usually I have trouble keeping him out sir, but I understand.” Jimin was dying to know what was going on. Yoongi and Namjoon usually avoided each other but had interacted thrice now within the week. He resolved to make a coffee delivery mid-meeting. Yes. Excellent. Jimin smirked as he placed the food order and sent it. 

Namjoon took out the three remaining folders and placed them on his desk. Hopefully this meeting meant Yoongi had stopped being a little shit and decided to go along with it. He took out the paperwork he had prepared for Yoongi, a similar NDA to the one he had discussed with [Y/N].

An hour passed where he ate his lunch and caught up on emails.

Yoongi exited the elevator and lazily walked over to Jimin. “Is Namjoon ready?”

Jimin raised his delicate eyebrows. “You’re actually stopping to ask? Well that’s a first.”

Yoongi stuffed his hands into his pockets and rolled his eyes. “I’ll just head in then.”

Jimin sat there, utterly confused but also strangely excited. He ordered two coffees in preparation for his eavesdropping. Yoongi had never, ever stopped at the reception desk. Or made an appointment. Since when was he playing nice?

Jimin: GUYS. Yoongi and Namjooon are meeting for the third time this week. And Yoongi actually made an appointment.

JK: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?

V: Are you serious?

Jimin: Yes. I’m sneaking in there in half an hour. I’ll report back.

Jimin didn’t know why he cared so much. It was just that Yoongi was such a mystery compared to the rest of the guys. He was good looking, talented, but kept to himself and seemed to resent everything and everyone else that worked there.

Yoongi opened the door to the office. Namjoon looked up from his desk, “Yoongi. You left the interviews early, I’m surprised to see you made an appointment this afternoon.”

Yoongi walked closer to the desk, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah well I had seen everything I needed to see, and heard everything I needed to hear.” He looked down at the desk. “Are those all the candidates that are left?” 

“Yes. Unsurprisingly it was difficult to explain the situation without sounding like we are running an escort service, as you can imagine.”

Yoongi had been practicing the conversation he wanted to have since he got back to the building earlier after the girl returned his headphones. “Are there any headshots included in these?” He asked, feigning nonchalance.

“Nope,” Namjoon replied, looking over the NDA. “You said you didn’t want to be, and I quote, unduly influenced by physical appearance.” 

“Huh. Ok.” Yoongi responded. He didn’t want Namjoon to know that he had met one of the women who had applied for the job. Wait. She had said she worked somewhere nearby. “Can I see the resumes?”

“Knock yourself out.” He said, pushing the papers toward the edge of the desk.

He flipped through them. The first one was a model. Nope. The second one was an office worker. The third one listed two jobs, including Club Tokki. That was the woman he had met earlier. She had gone back and completed the interview. Despite trying to school his face, he let a small smile creep across his face.

“Find something you like there?” Namjoon asked. 

“These two sound interesting.” He handed two of the folders back to Namjoon. 

Namjoon looked at the two he had kept, “Of course you dumped the model. Here we have Lisa. She’s nice. Boring but Nice. And [Y/N]. You know what? I’m not even going to tell you anything. She’s something. Let’s invite her just to see what happens.” 

Yoongi stood there for a moment, swiping his lips with his tongue. Really? It had been that easy? 

“Here. You need to sign this. It’s an NDA about the situation. As far as anybody else knows, the girl we hire is your assistant. None of this was arranged before time. Additionally, you are to tell her that you want this, not that Big Hit is forcing you to do this.”

Yoongi puffed out his cheeks, “Why does that matter if she’s in on it?”

“Plausible deniability on the company’s part I’m sure. I didn't write the contract, BPD and the attorneys did.”

Yoongi sat down and started to read through the document.

Jimin knocked lightly on the door before entering. “Coffee gentleman? I have two iced Americanos right here.” He walked towards the desk.

“Thanks Jimin, put them on the desk.” Namjoon said, standing with the files in his hand.

“Ooo am I getting a new coworker?” Jimin tried to ask casually.

“Yoongi’s getting an assistant.” Namjoon responded.

“Good maybe someone will actually answer when I call down to the studio.” Jimin quipped.

Yoongi snorted, “As if I would let her in MY studio.”

“Enjoy your coffee, Sugar,” Jimin said, purposefully pronouncing his alias incorrectly.

“It’s Suga. Thanks for the coffee.”

Jimin blinked slowly, not sure how to respond to Yoongi saying something half-nice to him and slowly exited the room.

Yoongi picked up the coffee, sipping it while he finished reading the document. “Alright. Give me the pen.”

Namjoon was excited to be moving forward on this stupid project. If it actually worked, he hoped he would have to babysit Yoongi way less. “Here you go. You need to come to the next round of interviews. I think it’s important for you to meet each other.”

“Yeah, ok.” Yoongi signed the paperwork and stood up. “Put it on the calendar. See you.”

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:  @lidda​ @anpanman-sonyeondan​ @firefairy1​

[fuckinuchihas]

Omg, I didn't think I'd actually get it! You're welcome for putting you out of your misery! I sent in a guess the first time and didn't get it but I'm Poppy, 25, and I like Bokuto! Thank You!

- 🦄

Alright Poppy! I finally finished it. 

Honestly if it feels like this is not who you are or completely and totally out of character that’s okay just tell me I can absolutely do it again. Or if it just sucks...which it might cause like...I’m hella fucking sick, but my anxiety won’t let me not be productive so here we go. 

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO CALL A DO-OVER!!! ILYSM THANKS FOR PLAYING WITH ME AND SORRY IT’S SO LATE!! 

BOKUTO X READER VALENTINES DAY FLUFF 

You’ve been with Bokuto long enough to have mildly convinced him that you don’t really care about the extravagance of Valentines day. You don’t want a huge box of chocolates, to which half of them you don’t even like, or a bunch of flowers that will be dead in a week. 

It’s not that you don’t appreciate them, you absolutely do...but it doesn’t feel necessary anymore.

He makes you feel loved each and every single day. 

You don’t need cheesy red and pink decorations hung up in the living room or an expensive dinner at a restaurant where you feel out of place.

It just feels like way too much when you’ve already got everything you want and need by simply having him in your life. 

It’s more than enough already. 

Bokuto looks down at the last page of his ‘special love coupon book’ and grins to himself.

He’s old enough now to know that it’s kind of ridiculous but he’s given one to you for every single holiday or special occasion you’ve spent together and though you sometimes roll your eyes at what he believes are quite frankly generous rates on the slips, you never fail to smile when you see it. 

And..you’ve even cashed a few in, though after the first time he made you promise not to actually tear them out again, they were in fact, unlimited. 

He’s satisfied with it when he’s done with the design, this year he’s beefing it up a bit and having it actually printed out so he wanted to make sure the colors weren’t overwhelming or anything. 

Once that’s complete, and submitted to the print shop...he’s kind of at a loss. 

He knows you don’t want anything big. You’ve more than made that clear, though he’s been given contradictory advice by a couple of his teammates.

Still...he knows that he knows you better than anyone and that you wouldn’t be secretly expecting more.

The issue then becomes that he still wants to celebrate the day with you, even if it’s a lowkey thing with just the two of you. 

He makes up his mind that he’s going to get some of your favorite food and drinks and a hardback copy of that book you’ve been wanting and he can still feel like he’s celebrating the love he has for you, and that you feel it too...without overwhelming you.

Yeah, that sounds good…

He texts your best friend three days in advance, after setting many, many reminders on his phone and asks if they’ll take you out to coffee or a movie on him, a secret between the two of them. They of course love him and how affectionate he is with you so they agree quickly and he sends the money over before he forgets. 

The morning of, you have a nice lazy morning in bed before you bring up the friend date, he makes a big act of begging you not to go but just before you change your mind and cancel, he gets flustered and says he should probably get his workout in early so the two of you can spend the evening together.

You find it a little suspicious given the fact that Bokuto is about as subtle as a sledge hammer and a terrible terrible liar, but you trust that he won’t ask for too much and you put it behind you and go on with your day. 

As soon as you’re out of the house he grabs every pillow and comforter he can find and texts someone he knows isn’t busy today and grins when he answers on the first ring.

“It’s just a fort, man. What’s so hard about that. You tie a couple sheets to your ceiling fan and throw up some fairy lights and bam, you’re done and everyone is happy.” Kuroo answers after Bokuto explains why he wants him over.

Sure, building a for looks easy, but ‘ol Bo has learned his lesson and he doesn’t do any kind of large scale (or small scale) project without supervision anymore. 

“Just get over here man. I don’t have a lot of time...and what are fairy lights? Y’know what just stop and get those or whatever you think we’re gonna need and I’ll pay you back.”

“No...no what’s the real reason you’re asking for help. Besides the fact that you’re decoratively challenged?” 

“I AM NOT! SOMEONE TOLD ME I COULD BE A MODEL LAST WEEK!” he calls out before he realizes he does still need Kuroo’s help.

He ignores Kuroo’s response and continues on. “Anyway, uh,” he rubs his neck, not wanting to admit the truth but Kuroo is kind of like an evil genius sometimes. “I may or may not have sworn an oath that I wouldn’t do any umm projects without help.” 

Kuroo immediately starts barking laughter against his ear. 

“Stop being such a jerk and get over here dude, I’ve only got a couple hours!” 

“Wh-what’s the-” Kuroo is still slightly wheezing from laughter. “What’s the penalty.” 

‘Oh no, not telling. I’m hanging up. Be over here in less than 25 minutes or I’ll tell Kenma you broke his lucky switch, bought a used one on a street corner and then filed the edges down to make it look ‘authentic’.” 

“Fuck. Ugh fine.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Bokuto hangs up the phone with a smirk splayed on his lips. 

He makes a resolute promise to himself to never let Kuroo find out the consequences of not keeping his promise is that he can’t have kisses or cuddles for a full twenty four hours. 

What can he say, he’s weak..okay. He’s weak for you. 

Kuroo gets there after he’s scheduled the takeout delivery and sloppily wrapped both your coupon book and the one you were itching to read. 

He defends his blanket choices with his life but Kuroo insists on using these plain white ones he bought because it would ‘look more romantic’. He rolls his eyes but lets him do what he wants because if it’s one thing he does trust, it’s Kuroo’s eye for design.

“Ooh I forgot you had these ceilings...this is going to look awesome, dude.” 

“Good, now what do you want me to do…” 

“Nothing, I got this part.”

“Nooo, I want to do it myself,” he says, resisting the urge to stomp his foot. “It won’t mean as much if you just do it all for me.” 

“Y’know you might not be the brightest but you’re a good man, Bokuto.” 

“Eh?” he says, because Kuroo rarely ever compliments him sincerely.

“Nothin’ man, just get the clothespins.” 

They work together and in less than an hour it looks, well...it looks fucking amazing he thinks.

He’ll give up just this once and say Kuroo was right, the white sheets look pretty cool and the little lights they strung up are pretty neat too. 

It looks super romantic so he hopes you like it. 

He kicks Kuroo out before he can invite himself over, Kenma has a special v-day stream going on and he wants to crash it from a different ip, whatever that means. Well either way he turns him down and swears the secrets he has will yet again, stay between the two of them. 

Now he just needs to wait for you to get home. 

When your friend texts that they’re about to drop you off, his heart starts beating out of his chest and he gets super excited.

He waits for you at the door, stepping outside when he sees their car pull in and softly closes it behind him. 

“He yells out a greeting that could probably shake the ground if it was another decibel louder but you love how excited he gets so it doesn’t bother you. 

You make your way over to him with a skeptical look on your face as he starts nervously rubbing at his neck.

“Why are you outside?” you ask and there’s a pink tinge to his cheeks that you’re pretty sure isn’t from the cool weather. 

 “Umm Happy Valentines Day?” he says, an awkward chuckle quickly following the words.

“Kotaro...what did you do? Why are you standing outside?” you ask, immediately concerned about the state of your home. 

“I swear it’s not bad. I just wanted to surprise you so...please?” he asks, a hopefulness in his eyes that you can’t bring yourself to squelch no matter how worried you feel. 

“I mean I said I didn’t want anything big but I guess if you want-” you stop mid sentence, breath stuck in your throat when you see your transformed living room. 

He’s moved all the furniture except for the couch and the tv stand and it’s gorgeous. The lights twinkle a little in the darkness and you feel the irresistible urge to kiss his face. 

So you do.

He never objects to kisses. 

“This is really nice… I mean it. I’m sorry I almost ruined your plan or if I made you feel like you couldn’t do anything. I don’t ever want it to be that way. I just also don’t need you to make a big fuss,” you say, trying to be a little logical about it, but your heart is definitely thumping in that cheesy romantic way. 

“How about a little fuss…” 

“A little fuss feels nice.” 

You lay back on the couch, you read to him from your book and share music playlists that quietly add to the ambiance of your conversation. He coaxes you into some weird verbal games that he’s played with Akaashi over the years, because it was something he needed to bring him out of his shell a little and you end up laughing until your belly hurts. 

The takeout arrives on time and you enjoy the food and Bo loves to feed you small bites of your favorite stuff, so you let him. 

He tells you to unwrap your gift and you feel fondness and warmth rush over you when you see the handmade coupons, this time even more beautifully drawn out. 

It’s really easy to see why you’re so in love with him. 

Even in the in between moments. 

He’s always thinking of you and always wanting to be the best version of himself for you.

I wrote like an extra 600 words cause a lot of it was bokuto and kuroo interaction lol my bad but I hope you enjoyed it! 

[wandas-sunshine]

The Muse’s Dance - Part 1

Summary: Steve is a fine arts major, (Y/N) is a dance major. Their meeting wasn’t supposed to be anything big, but Steve is sure he’s found his new muse, and (Y/N) is suddenly convinced that maybe she doesn’t have to choose between her career and a relationship.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 4497

Warnings: Nude modeling, this is sickeningly sweet, tooth rotting fluff. Smut in the next chapter

A/N: This is gonna be a little mini-series for you guys. Three parts plus an Epilogue. Song and dance inspo for the girls’ showcase piece is here. Please please please tell me what you guys think because I am seriously in love with this concept.

Classes had ended a couple hours earlier, but students were still milling about the academy hallways. Steve had been in one of the art studios in the visual arts building, desperately trying to finish part of his project for the big winter showcase coming up. He was almost getting somewhere, but his progress was cut short since he’d promised Nat to meet her before dinner at her and Bucky’s place.

That’s how he found himself wandering the dance wing, side stepping out of the way of a few girls strutting down the hall like they owned the place. Around the next corner, there was a pair of girls showing each other complicated foot work that would have had Steve tripping over himself. He glanced down at his phone once more.

‘Meet me in studio 22B’ The text from Natasha read. He was already running late, and he’d most certainly left early. But eventually he found the dance studio she’d told him to come to. He slipped quietly through the door. Music filled the small room as the trio of girls danced in front of a wall of mirrors. He tucked himself into the corner like his presence would disrupt their rehearsal.

He watched curiously. He’d seen Natasha dance a million times, she was amazing. The girl opposite her in their little v-formation, one Maria Hill, was easily as good. She’d been dancing with Nat since they were pre-teens. But the dancer between them was a mystery. A stunning, seductive, completely enchanting mystery.

She moved with such grace, such sensuality, that he almost felt like he should look away. But he didn’t dare. There was no way he’d ever forgive himself if he stopped watching her. She had him blushing to the tips of his ears, and his heart was damn near beating out of his chest. Even as the music stopped, Steve struggled to look away. She could’ve been a supermodel, a goddess even. Her skin was flushed, and her hair was slipping into her face. And the smirk on her lips was downright sinful. She was his new favorite work of art.

“Enjoy the show, Stevie?” Maria teased, grabbing her water bottle and taking a long drink. Steve’s crystal blue eyes snapped away from the girl and over to Maria, and he cleared his throat like he’d been caught in the midst of something absolutely awful. He was sure his cheeks were flaring as red as Nat’s hair, Then the musical giggle from the mystery girl’s mouth nearly turned his knees to jelly.

“Yeah! That was...wow, I mean...you guys were…” He stammered before sheepishly nodding and praying to whatever god may be that his point had gotten across so they didn’t ask him to clarify. His eyes wandered back towards the girl. Her hands were on her hips, and her smile was bright enough to light up an entire auditorium. Then that smile tugged into a critical pout. Even so, she was stunning.

“I need to emote more,” She turned and picked up her towel, wiping away the sweat that clung to her skin. “I have to keep working on it.”

“We’ve been working on it for hours.” Maria scoffed. Natasha sighed and glanced at the time. She was already leaving twenty minutes later than she’d planned. She crouched down at her bag, putting her things away and lifting it onto her shoulder.

“I really have to go. We promised Bucky we’d be home for dinner.” She explained, nodding towards Steve. Maria had already started her cool down stretches.

“I have a date in a few hours. Have to get cleaned up.” Maria announced, twisting herself into positions that had Steve flinching. “Sorry, babe. You’re on your own.”

(Y/N) huffed softly. So much for friends. She was never going to make it in the real world if she couldn’t get her stupid routine right for the end of semester showcase.

“That’s alright. I’ll work on my own for a bit.” She insisted with a smile. Steve hardly knew her, but he had a feeling she’d work herself half to death if they left her there alone. He wasn’t big on the idea. 

“You better be out of here by dark.” Nat warned, giving her the dangerous glare that Steve had been on the receiving end of one too many times. 

“Yes ma’am.” (Y/N) agreed quickly. Before Steve and Natasha were out of the room, she’d started the music up again.

As he walked alongside Natasha, Steve fidgeted with the pencil he’d tucked behind his ear. Nat didn’t say anything, just waiting for him to ask the question she knew was coming.

“Hey, Tasha, who was that girl back there with you and Hill?” He asked finally. Natasha smiled knowingly. There was no way to miss the way he looked at her, like he just wanted to look at her for the rest of his life.

“That’s (Y/N). She’s majoring in dance too. She’s really good, but she just doesn’t see it.” Natasha explained. “She’s also super single. And perfect for you.”

Steve rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like the redhead ever managed to keep her nose out of his love life. She was even worse than Bucky. She’d tried to hook him up with half of her classmates at one point or another.

“She’s really talented.” He mumbled, his brain replaying the routine they’d been doing. He only sort of recognized the song. It was from Burlesque if he remembered right. Bucky’s sister loved that movie. “Is that for the Showcase?”

She nodded, walking ahead of him like she was worried that they’d be too late and Bucky would slaughter them. Steve took a few long strides to catch up once they made it to the apartment complex just off campus.

“How’s your piece going?” She asked as she unlocked the door and called out to Bucky that she was home. Steve scrunched up his nose.

“It’s coming along.” He answered, taking his jacket off and setting his bag down. “I have to find another model though. Hope bailed on me. That alone is going to take me another year.”

Bucky laughed from the kitchen where he was working on the meal. The three of them had these little ‘family dinners’ about once a month or so. Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed a beer from the fridge.

“I’m serious! Everyone’s so busy with their own projects that nobody has the time.” He took a drink and leaned back against the counter.

“You could ask (Y/N).” Natasha suggested with a smirk. She watched proudly as he blushed a bright shade of pink. Usually Steve was completely professional when it came to his art, but the idea of asking (Y/N) to be a nude model for him had him flustered.

“I’m sure she’s busy with her own stuff. I’ll figure something out.” He insisted. But there was absolutely no way that Natasha was going to let it go that easily. She had a plan.

By the time (Y/N) got home, it was well past dark. She was exhausted, and sweaty, and still felt like she wasn’t  doing her number justice. Part of her was wondering if she was just lacking the confidence. She had heard it a million times growing up, that she had the technique down pat, but that it would never be outstanding until she was confident that it could be. She was never very good at that part.

When she made it into her dorm, her roommate Wanda was running lines, as she most often was. (Y/N) did her best not to distract her, setting all of her things down and plugging her phone in. She was in desperate need of a shower, her skin still sticky with dried sweat.

“Hey, how’s your number coming along?” Wanda asked with her usual cheery, sweet tone. Truthfully, Wanda was the only thing keeping her sane with the showcase just a month away. (Y/N) groaned dramatically.

“The number is going to be the death of me.” She sat on the edge of her bed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Not to mention that I haven’t made any progress whatsoever these past few hours. All because Nat’s hunky friend had to come in and be all cute. Threw off my groove.” She crossed her arms and huffed.

“Maybe you’re just stressing yourself out too much. You probably just need a little break.” Wanda had never stopped saying that to her, and she never seemed to tire of reminding her constantly that she worked too hard.

“You know I can’t just...stop practicing.” She grabbed her shower bag and a change of clothes. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Passion makes perfect.” Wanda corrected as her roommate headed for the showers. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. How many times had she heard that?

The shower did nothing to ease (Y/N)’s anxiety, though it did wonders for her sore muscles. She returned to her dorm with every intention to listen to Welcome To Burlesque on repeat and run the choreo in her head until she fell asleep. However, a few new texts changed those plans. She swiped them open and felt her nerves build again.

‘Hey, remember when you had to bail on Pietro’s dance and I covered for you? And you said that you owed me one?’ Natasha had sent. (Y/N) definitely remember. She’d caught some awful virus that had her puking her guts out every half hour and she’d promised Pietro that she’d be his dance partner for a choreographing class he was taking. Natasha had saved the day and stepped in. The next text made her eyes go wide.

‘How do you feel about nude modeling?’

She bit down on her lip. This was not going to end well and she knew it. But Nat had been there every time she needed someone to save the day, and she really did owe her big time. Not to mention she could use a good confidence boost. What did she have to lose? Besides maybe a few hours of rehearsal.

‘Nat, what are you getting at?’ She questioned, curling up on her bed.

‘I have a friend that needs a model for his showcase project. Thought maybe you could help him out.’ Her answer came quickly and (Y/N) hesitated. What the hell was she getting herself into?

‘Send me the info and I’ll be there’ She decided before she had a chance to back out. She’d never modeled for anyone before, and definitely never in the nude. And for something as important as the showcase? But if she could dance in front of hundreds of people, she could do this too.

The next day felt like it crept on almost painfully slow as she sat through her classes. She was supposed to meet this guy on the other side of campus 20 minutes after her last class. She shoved her things into her bag quickly, still in her workout clothes from her jazz class.

Truthfully, she’d only been in the visual arts building once before, and that was during her freshman campus tour. She wandered the halls, searching until she found the right door. One glance at the time and her worry set in. Shit, she was late. She pushed the door open, startling the man working intently inside. She flinched and dropped her bag.

“Shit, sorry. Did I make you mess up?” She asked frantically. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find…” Her words trailed off as she finally looked up at the man she was modeling for. And Steve was staring right back. “Oh, hi again.”

“Hey, hi...you’re...you’re my model?” He asked nervously. She felt her heart sink and her stomach twist into knots. She knew this was an awful idea. Nervous thoughts began swirling through her head. What if she wasn’t good enough for his vision? What if she was going to ruin his piece? What if he just hated her and didn’t want to waste his time drawing her?

“You alright, doll?” He quirked an eyebrow at her and she jerked out of her thoughts, nodding stiffly.

“Yeah. I’m just a little bit nervous. I’ve never been someone’s model before.” She confessed with a smile that had Steve’s stomach in a tizzy. “But I owed Nat for all the times she’s saved my ass.”

Steve nodded and returned a smile that would have knocked her right off her feet if she’d dared to look at him straight on. He was so handsome...not that she had much time for pretty boys and their big blue eyes. She had a career to focus on.

“It’s alright. We’ll go at your pace. You won’t be very much fun to draw if you aren’t comfortable.” He stated sincerely, motioning her over. She ventured forward and he nodded towards a pale pink robe. “You can change into that and I can show you my concept for the piece.”

It wasn’t an order, simply an offer. She nodded and picked up the robe, stepping just out of his sight to strip down and change. Like the true gentleman he was, Steve made no attempt to peek at her as she changed.

Once she had put the robe on and folded her clothes into a neat little pile, she pulled up a stool beside him. He had been working on a piece that had her stunned into silence. He had clearly put a lot of effort into the image. It showed a naked girl draped elegantly over a chair. It was so beautiful that it was hard to look away.

“Like it?” Steve asked. She turned to glance at him, a nervous smile nudging the corners of her lips.

“It’s incredible. You know, I had been worried about being drawn by someone, but you just might manage to make me look beautiful.” She nudged his shoulder and giggled quietly.

“Making you look beautiful is easy.” He barely whispered the words, and she expected him to be teasing her. When her eyes met his, her stomach did a somersault. There was nothing but sincerity and admiration behind the ocean blue of his eyes. Her cheeks burned how.

“Thanks, Steve.” She murmured. There was a long quiet moment before she spoke again. “So, how about you show me that concept?” That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he had fallen into. He reached for his sketchbook, carefully turning pages. She caught short glimpses of several sketches. One of a young woman she didn’t recognize holding a baby, then one of Natasha and her boyfriend curled up with smiles lighting up their faces. One showed just Bucky, then Maria’s boyfriend Sam (not that either of them admitted they were together). Then, much to her surprise, she noticed a small sketch of her doodled into the corner of a page. One more page was flipped, and Steve offered it to her.

He showed her how the five pieces would come together. An overarching theme of head vs heart ran through them each.

“See, it starts almost completely black and white when she’s caught up too much in her head. Then when she gives in to her heart, she’s in full color. I want that to be you.” He turned his head to look at her with a grin.

Ever since she had come into the picture, Steve’s idea had really come together. It was becoming something he thought he could be proud of. Almost like she was his muse, the missing piece. She was the heart he needed to win against his anxious head. 

“No pressure,” She scoffed playfully. She was beyond honored to be the star of his masterpiece. She wasn’t even sure she deserved it. “Do you wanna...get started then?” She glanced at the table sitting in the middle of the room and shyly twirled the tie of her robe around her finger.

“Yeah, sure, yeah. I’m ready whenever you are.” He stammered quickly. He’d been staring at her again. Had she noticed? Not that people didn’t regularly stare at her. She was a dancer, and an absolutely breathtaking person to begin with. He figured she had people throwing themselves at her feet.

“Steve? How do you want me to…” She vaguely motioned towards the sheet covered table. Steve quickly snapped back into reality. His stunning blue eyes met hers for a second before he slipped into artist mode. He didn’t look at her like she was an object there for his pleasure, didn’t appraise her naked form. That was always something that had plagued her mind when she thought about nude modeling. Instead he let his eyes wander over every inch of her before making his decision. He stood up and walked over with a sort of confidence she hadn’t seen in him before.

“Go ahead and lay down on your back.” He instructed gently. She nodded and lifted herself onto the table, laying back and looking over at Steve. His eyebrows were knit together, leaving a cute little crease between them as he examined her once more. For a split second, he was chewing on his lip, and her mind was wandering in totally unprofessional ways.

“Here, bend this leg up, and go ahead and twist your hips just…” He tapped her knee, then her hip, doing as much as he could to position her without putting his hands on her. She did as he said, propping her leg up and angling her hips away from him. “Then stretch your far arm up like you’re grabbing something out of the air.”

She looked over at him again before doing as he said, stretching for some imaginary object that was just out of her reach. He rested his hands on his hips before nodding a little.

“Would you be able to arch your back a little more and hold it for me?” He asked. She adjusted her post, arching off the table. It wasn’t the most naturally comfortable pose, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Steve had the brightest smile on his lips, like everything was finally falling into place the way he’d hoped it would. And oh what she wouldn’t give to make him smile like that every single day.

“Do you want me to turn on some music? Sometimes it makes people more comfortable.” He asked. She shrugged a tiny bit.

“Sure, anything you’d like is fine.” She agreed. Steve quickly pulled up a playlist and started the music. She didn’t bother prying her eyes away from him as he set to work.

He was beautiful, truly exquisite. She couldn’t help the thought that it was almost disappointing that Steve was the artist and not the subject. The way his lips pursed as he worked had her fantasizing. Nothing filthy, but that was almost worse. She imagined curling up beside him and watching him draw, or looking over to him after running a number and seeing his precious little pout while he worked on whatever his newest project happened to be.

“You’re really passionate about your art, huh?” She observed quietly. He looked up and flashed her a little half-smile. Her heart fluttered dangerously.

“Art has gotten me through a lot of rough times.” He admitted. “I was a real sickly kid. Couldn’t usually go out and do much. So I got good at art.” He was quiet for a second, seeming to zone in on a particular part of the piece. It was strange for her to imagine the hulking mass of muscle before her being small and frail as a boy.

“You’re incredible, really. It’s an honor to model for your showcase piece. I know it’s probably really important for you.” She talked, letting him focus his energy on his art. But she noticed the smile beginning to curl onto his lips.

“Honestly, I think you’re the prettiest model I’ve ever drawn.” He told her, a pale pink crawling up his neck. “I mean, with your clothes on too.” She bit her lip to fight off her giggle. A hint of the flustered guy from the day before threatened to break through his calm and collected professional demeanor.

“Thanks, Steve. That’s sweet.” She mumbled. God, did he have to be so damn charming? Relationships were supposed to be the last thing on her mind. Especially with her next big performance just around the corner.

“You know, you’re really talented too.” Steve spoke after a few beats of silence. He remembered what Nat had said about her not believing she was a good dancer. (Y/N) sighed softly.

“You really think so? I know everybody says this, but I feel like I’ll never be good enough to make it in the big leagues.” She confessed. Steve paused his work. He tried his hardest to hide the disbelief that hit him.

“I really think so. Don’t tell Tasha, but I think you might be the best dancer I’ve ever seen.” His words eased her worries for a moment and set her cheeks aflame.

“Thanks. You’re really really kind. It’s sort of nice just talking to someone. I’m always so preoccupied with rehearsals, and classes, and auditions. I guess I never really take the time to slow down anymore.” She had been hearing the same thing since she decided in elementary school that she was going to make a living being a dancer. But being there with Steve gave her a new perspective. She really sort of liked the clarity he brought her.

“Maybe what you need — you can relax the arm — is someone to help you out. You know, remind you to take a breather every now and then.” He didn’t look up. His eyebrows furrowed together again as he tried to get the muscle definition of her thigh just right. She hummed thoughtfully.

“Yeah, maybe.” She was always wary of letting people into her life. Too many people meant a whole slew of distractions. But if slowing down always felt so nice… “Maybe you can help reel me in sometimes.”

Steve beamed, suddenly overwhelmed with pride at her willingness to let him into her little world. Then he nodded.

“I’d be happy to try.”

The two didn’t talk much after that, just continued their slow, drawn out conversations with replies every few minutes until the sun had gone down and Steve was satisfied with his progress. He set to packing his things up, and (Y/N) stood up and put her clothes back on.

“Thank you for doing this.” He turned to look at her as she pulled her shirt and sweater back on. Suddenly he wasn’t in professional mode. He was just Steve Rogers, a man alone with an intimidatingly beautiful woman. He fiddled with one of his pencils, sending her another glance. “I think you saved my ass on this one.:

She flashed a blinding smile and let out a bubby laugh that nearly melted him. She was incredible, and Steve was beginning to regret that one time that he’d told Bucky that he didn’t believe in love at first sight.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re a talented artist, you would have figured something out.” She argued, crouching to tie her shoes and doing her best not to meet his gaze for fear that she wouldn’t be able to make herself look away.

“Maybe, but you made it a hell of a lot easier.” He agreed as she finished with her laces.

“Happy to help. But it’s late, I should get back before my roommate starts to worry.” She told him reluctantly. He nodded his understanding and picked up her bag, swinging it onto his broad shoulder. She tipped her head and lifted an eyebrow in response.

“You said you needed to get home. And my ma woulda had my head if I ever let a lady walk alone in the dark. I’m not gonna let her down now.” He explained, clicking off lights around the room. She smiled and tipped her head down so that maybe her blushing wouldn’t be noticed. She needed to get a grip. He was just a guy! A handsome, talented, charmingly chivalrous guy.

“Alright, but only because I wouldn’t want you getting in trouble with your mom.” She gave in, but Steve had already known she would. He flicked off the last light as they headed out the door.

The walk to the dorms wasn’t a particularly long one, and a comfortable silence fell over the pair, both of them lost in their own thoughts. (Y/N) gave up on trying to keep her mind from wandering. She imagined Steve walking her home after her performances, or after a nice dinner date. Then she was imagining him kissing her goodnight slow and sweet before she went inside. She looked over at him only to find him already looking her way.

He’d put his backpack on properly, her bag hiked up on his shoulder, and his hands tucked into the front pockets of his paint stained jeans. He hadn’t even noticed the way he was simply staring at her. He was too busy thinking about the way she carried herself. Even when she was just walking, she was so graceful, each step was taken with such conviction that it was clear she was a dancer. She made existing look like a flawless performance. He wouldn’t mind doing this more often. Walking her to wherever she needed to go, carrying her bag just so she wouldn’t have to be bothered.

When they reached her building, (Y/N) led the way to the elevator. She pressed the button for her floor, and neither of them spoke. Despite all the open space, they stayed close to one another, their arms brushing with every movement. He let her lead the way to her door where he reluctantly passed her bag back to her. She settled it on her shoulder and looked up at him.

“Do you live off campus?” She asked, pulling out her keys. Steve nodded and she held out her hand. “Let me give you my number. If I can’t walk you home I can at least make sure you get there safe.”

Steve didn’t dare argue with her. He simply handed over his phone and watched her plug in her number. She lifted the device, snapping a picture of him and texting it to herself before giving it back.

“Text me as soon as you get in, understand?” She threatened playfully, poking her finger into his very...very firm chest.

“Yes, ma’am.” A chuckle rumbled from his chest, and she appeared satisfied with the answer. She unlocked her door and nudged it open.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Night, (Y/N). I’ll talk to you when I get back home.” He promised. She nodded and closed the door behind her before he caught sight of her lovestruck smile.

Oh, she was in deep.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Seven, “The Tables Have Turned”

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                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

“At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away, because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.”

Music Inspo: Everywhere by Niall Horan (click to listen)

              “You think I like having you in here, destroying everything that was me until all that’s left is you and a dead shell? You're all I bloody think about ... dream about. You're in my gut ... my throat ... I'm drowning in you.” 

                        - Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (S5 x E14)

“How’s yer dad doin’?” Harry asks me when I return to my seat across from him, the soda threatening to spill over the top of my cup.

“He’s doing good, thanks. It took a while for his energy to come back, and sometimes he gets tired easily, but it’s a process,” I answer, plucking a chip from the small white bag and drenching it in the yellow queso. “He’s pretty happy to have all of his hair back, and he’s started to get back into running and lifting weights. Late last summer he started back to work where he does construction.”

“Wow, I feel like I learn mo’ ‘bout yer dad e’ry time we talk ‘bout him. I didn’t know he was into weights and all that, good fer him. Bloody hell he’s like superman. Ya dunno how happy I am t’ hear he’s back on his feet, and doin’ well,” he murmurs with a gentle warmth adorning his features.

It spreads with a spark across my skin when I feel his fingers wrap around mine, squeezing my hand. I’m guilty again with an absence of words when I look back into his eyes, all syllables stolen away from me at the sight and by his gesture. I don’t need to say anything though because unspoken words pass between us as he stares back at me, memories unraveling from all of the times he showed up for me. I still don’t know how I could have ever doubted he cared about me.

“Thank you,” I reply emphatically, squeezing his toasty hand in return. His thumb brushes along the back of my hand before letting it go.

“Welcome, Becks. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there at tha end t’ celebrate,” he responds softly, sadness laced throughout his words as his head falls. His eyes avoid mine as he picks up a few pieces of shredded cheese that fell onto the wrapper laid in front of him.

“It’s okay, Harry, we both kinda forgot.” His head of curls goes up and down at my softly spoken words that only brush the surface. Regardless, I think that it did the job and he knows what I mean. We both know that we ignored the other and forgot, whether on accident or purpose. “I guess there are several reasons for our celebratory dinner and drinks.”

“Very true, bug,” he agrees, the dimples finding their way back onto his cheeks once again. The itchy nervousness abates when his eyes lift again to mine and he holds out his half-eaten taco, grease and warm sour cream dripping from it. “Cheers t’ yer dad’s recovery, catchin’ up with old friends, and tha best o’ all - Becks gettin’ tha associate position at me firm workin’ with me. ‘m excited t’ see what tha future holds for me new favourite lawyer.”

“Stop it, or else I’m going to start crying, and you’ve seen me cry more than enough,” I smile, blinking back the tears as I hold out my taco and bump it against his. “Cheers to new beginnings, Harry.”

“Cheers, Becks, and ‘s okay if ya cry. Happy tears are good too.”

“Very true,” I agree, taking a page from his book before I finish the rest of my taco, a silence falling over our table. It’s replaced with crinkling of wrappers, sips of soda, chewing of crunchy chips and chocolatey churros, and stolen glances at the other.

“How’re Skye and Robbie these days? What’re they up t’?” he inquires, squashing the wrapper of his third taco into a ball that he sets on the side of the tray for our trash. I watch as he plucks a quesadilla from the stack of dwindling food, but he stops and grabs a churro as well with a sly grin. “Hey, they’re fer me too.”

“Harry,” I warn teasingly, a giggle peeking out from my words which he quickly echos, although accidentally. “Um, they’re both good. Skye got a new job at a salon on the west side that she likes. It’s called Roots or something or other, and Robbie is still working at Black and Blue. He actually started dating a girl recently, but I’ve yet to meet her. God, it seems like everybody else is having luck with love, beside us. Myles told me he’s engaged now, and then Robbie’s girlfriend, and Skye said the other day she has a date this week.”

“Ya, we’re ratha pathetic, aren’t we? We haven’t even had any drinks yet and we’re gushin’ ‘bout bloody love,” he cracks, clucking his tongue before feeding the rest of the crisp churro between his rose lips. My oh my, is that a scenic sight right there.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” I remark, finishing my second taco and grabbing the remaining quesadilla, earning a disapproving head shake from him.

As the flavors of the tangy sour cream, fiery seasoned chicken, and gooey cheese melt on my tongue, our words hit a sensitive spot in my heart. I just hope we can avoid it for the rest of the night, or else I’m afraid I might blurt out some words I’ve been itching to say.

+

“Hurry up, ‘s bloody cold,” Harry titters, digging his hands further into the pockets of his matte black coat.

“How far are we even going?”

“Oh, hush, you. ‘s not very far, jus’ anotha block,” he answers, his lengthy legs far ahead of mine.

“Harry, that’s what you said like five minutes ago, and slow the fuck down!”

“Hey, watch tha language, there’s no need t’ swear,” he remarks, meeting my eyes over his shoulder with his brows quirked into a V. When we arrive at a busy intersection, our feet stop on the sidewalk, and a muttered curse falls from his lips.

“Oh, so you can swear, but I can’t?” I quip, poking his arm playfully.

“Yes, li’l one, I can. ‘m not bein’ a very good role model fer ya, am I now?” he replies, a hand leaving his pocket to pat the top of my head covered in a knit hat. I respond with a roll of my eyes as his sly grin graces my eyes. “Are ya shrinkin’ on me, Becks?”

“Don’t.”

He only giggles, turning back to the onslaught of moving lights around us. I’ve always enjoyed the sights of London like this, the neon and fluorescent signs hugging every street, and the towering buildings. Harry mumbles a ‘c’mon’, tugging on my sleeve until I follow him across the crosswalk. Soon, we come upon a pub with a green neon sign donning the front, reading ‘Murphy’s’ that Harry pulls me into. His long legs lead me through the entryway, across red-tiled flooring, and to the long wooden bar where boisterous laughs sound.

“Can I have two Purple Haze martinis, please?” Harry says to the bartender, a tall fellow with an interesting red mustache that curls at its ends. He nods and turns around to grab two martini glasses.

“What are Purple Hazes, like is it something Prince liked to drink?” I ask Harry, falling onto the black bar stool beside him.

“I dunno, but you’ll like it. Jus’ trust me,” he smiles as he slides off his coat, and I admire the new view of his side profile. Something I haven’t seen in a long time. Seven months both does and doesn’t feel like forever, especially compared to that day I found him standing at the front of that lecture hall. Yesterday, when I turned around to find him standing in Myles’ office, it felt like it had been years. I blame it on all of the hurt. “‘Scuse me, can we also get two Skittles shots? Thanks.”

“So, now you’re my drinking mentor too, huh?”

“Pretty much, ya,” he smirks, balling his hand into a fist that he lays his cheek on to look at me. The smile winding its way along his lips under the dim lights drills a hole into the armor around my heart that’s cracking more and more. “And yer not doin’ that sissy thing ya do where ya have a glass o’ water on tha side.”

“Harry, I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow!”

“Becks, you’ll be fine! T’morrow’s a Saturday, anyways. What will it hurt?” he answers, shrugging his shoulders as the crinkles begin around his eyes. They almost disappear from my view when he looks to the bartender who sets the shots down in front of us, Harry mentioning adding it to his bill after thanking him. “Bottoms up, bug.”

“Oh, God,” I sigh, taking the greenish-yellow shotglass of liquid from his outstretched hand. “Stop looking at me that way.”

“What way?” he inquires with a furrowed brow, holding the shot close to his grinning lips.

“Like you know we’re about to get drunk.”

“Cheers,” is all he says, clinking his glass against mine before downing the liquid effortlessly. Shaking my head, I exhale loudly as the liquid nears my lips, and then it burns with hints of sweet and sour on the way down. “See, not so bad, was it?”

“Shut up,” I retort in the middle of a cough racking my chest, setting down the glass with a clunk.

“I have a question,” he announces after his giggling dissolves into the air. “Ya neva told me how you and Skye met, so how’d it happen?”

“You’re thinking about that right now?” I quip, carding a hand through my hair after I slip off my mauve-colored beanie. He shyly nods as he fidgets with a ring on his left hand, meeting my gaze only shortly. “We met in first grade. She was scary at first, because one day early on she got mad at me for stealing her friend, or something- I can’t remember. Then the next day, she came up to me and we were both wearing pink Hello Kitty shoes, and decided to be best friends. Like they say, the rest was history, and we were joined at the hip from then on. We were in the same class a lot throughout the following years, took the same electives in high school, and moved to London together to go to uni.”

“Sounds ratha picturesque, dontcha think? Or I s’pose that’s how it goes with five-year olds,” Harry murmurs, nodding to the bartender when he brings us the purple martinis. An awe leaves my lips when I see the ombre of purple hues filling the glass. “‘s vodka, Curacao, Black Raspberry Liqueur, and cranberry juice. I think you’ll like it. Go ‘head, try it, Becks.”

I obey and bring the chilly glass to my mouth, relaxing at the sweet taste of berries, filling me with the color purple. Then I wince at the harsh bite of the alcohol, eliciting a titter from Harry whose foot I kick with mine. Beside me, he gulps down a quarter of the drink, unfazed.

“How about you and Myles?”

“Good question, I dunno if ‘ve eva told ya that story,” he hums, tickling his stubbly chin with his fingers while thinking. Even the way the skin between his eyebrows disappears when he’s thinking is cute. God, everything about him is and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it to myself once all of this alcohol passes my lips. As another drink of the martini burns my throat, I think I may be warming up to that idea, but there’s the possibility it could all be for nothing if the alcohol steals our memories away.

“We met in high school inn’a class I can’t rememba tha name of, but we both hadd’a crush on tha same girl, and we both played guitar. So it was natural,” he mumbles, licking his lips and making me feel woozy all over at the sight.

“Sure, that’s a real natural friendship,” I giggle. “You know I’m a lightweight, by the way.”

“Oh I know, ‘m bettin’ onnit,” he returns with a wink, bringing the large glass to his bubblegum lips.

“You know what’s good?” I follow, watching his thick eyebrows hike up his forehead. “That Kinky stuff,” I respond, taking another sip. I almost choke on it when I glance at the shocked look screwing up his face.

“Becks.”

“No, God- t-the vodka, Harry . . . not that other stuff,” I chuckle, my entirety collapsing into nervous laughter. His own echoes mine as a prickly warmth spreads like fire across my body.

“My bloody God, Rebecca Holte, are ya already feelin’ that drink?” he hums, his bony knee knocking against mine underneath the table. The fiery nervousness abates briefly at the mention of my formal name, one I can’t recall the last time I’ve heard him say in its entirety. It comes as a shock to me, considering at times I’m convinced he’s forgotten it.  

“No, I-I just thought a liquor connoisseur such as yourself would know what I’m talking about.”

“Sure, I totally don’t believe you on that one, love,” he replies, scoffing when I softly hit his shoulder. “Yer prolly into handcuffs and gags, arentcha?”

“Harry Styles!” I exclaim, squirming when his hand covers my mouth. It falls within seconds, but the spicy vanilla smell coating his body remains with me, along with the warmth of his touch. Most of all, the familiarity and safety wrapped all in it causes a pang in my chest. “I do not do handcuffs, or bloody gags, and nor would I ever tell you, if I did.”

Words fleet his lips as he drowns them with another swallow of his violet martini. I turn away with my hair tickling my cheek as it shakes from side to side. It flies in front of my eyes when his fingers plunge into my sides, yanking laughs from my mouth as he lifts his eyebrows at me with a look that tells me to be quiet.

“I missed you,” I blurt out at random, feeling his fingers still on my side and his expression relaxes. The happiness falls from his eyes and cheeks, and with it I turn away, unable to deal with the disappointment I’m sure I’m on the verge of.

“I missed you too, y’know . . . loads,” Harry concurs, his fingers dangling at my side until they wander to my hands clasped in my lap. He steals one of them away and holds it against his leg, rubbing circles into my knuckles.

If this doesn’t make me spill the beans, then I’m positive the following liquor just may, and it all might come crashing down in front of me.

The next shot, a Lemon Drop, didn’t go down as smoothly. I felt like I was going to hack up a lung when I feel Harry’s warm hand on my back.

“Alright?” he murmurs in a rush, patting my back firmly until the cough subsides. “Sorry, that lemon one ‘s kinda hard sumtimes, ‘s ratha sour.”

“Ya think?” I respond, trying to make it go away with the last gulp of the Purple Haze, but it’s only a few seconds of relief.

I exhale and only feel his hand leave me when he orders a water, and two Tequila Sunrises, his a stronger one.

“Breathe, love, a water’s on ‘s way,” Harry hums, squeezing my arm. I nod and swallow hard, embarrassment coating me like a musty sheet.

“I thought you said no water.”

“Hush, I gotta take care o’ me li’l one,” he assures me, bringing a finger to his lips when I dare a look at him. A smile returns to my lips and remains there when the cold water graces them, him sipping at the Tequila Sunrise sat between his ringed fingers.

Oh, what I’d give to be able to wake up to a sunrise with him by my side. Oh, Harry.

“Hey, wha’s that ya got there?” he inquires, soon his painted nail lifting the bracelets from my right wrist. “Becks has a tattoo?! Since when?” he exclaims, astonishment and shock mixing into a cocktail amongst his features. His eyes bug out of his skull and then narrow when they return to my wrist.

“It’s a Queen Anne’s Lace, Robbie has one too, just on his upper arm and bigger. We got them when we were eighteen, um . . . . after our Gran passed. Grandma Holte . . Ann Holte,” I explain, helping him by removing the bracelets from around my wrist.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or just him, but my wrist finds a new home in his palm that he turns to better look at. The shock is replaced by a slow smile transforming his face, bleeding into his eyes that find their way back to mine.

“‘s gorgeous, Becks, truly. ‘ve always found tattoos o’ flowers t’ be so beautiful, yer makin’ me want t’ get anotha one even mo’ now. I mean, I have tha rose and anotha sumwhere I think, but now I want anotha thanks t’ you,” he hums, tracing the ink with the tip of his thumb, just a whisper of his touch. “‘m sorry ‘bout yer Gran, sounded like it was premature which ‘s always tha worst. Knew ya were strong, but fook, ya amaze me e’ry day, Becks.” Unannounced tears press warmly at the back of my eyes as he admires the sprawling flower, tracing each little petal until he’s tracked them all.

“You didn’t think I was that badass, huh?”

“No, ‘ve always thought ya were a badass, babe. A flower tattoo jus’ takes the cake,” he quips, looking me in the eyes and sending another crack down the case in my chest.

I don’t know how many more little shocks like this I can take, or my heart, before it breaks free from the cage I locked it up in so long ago. I hid it there to protect it from him breaking it, again.

+

“This ‘s me,” he announces, bringing us to stop in the parking lot. My confusion only grows as I look around, until my eyes stop on the black Harley Davidson in front of us.

“What? It’s the middle of winter, Harry.”

“I know, I know. That’s what e’rybody says, but I dress warm. I like t’ take her out e’ry once in a while t’ keep her runnin’ good. Maybe ‘ll hafta take ya onn’a ride when ‘s not too cold fer pussy Becks,” he coos, voice rising to a mocking tone.

“I’m sorry I don’t like the cold wind ripping my skin off,” I titter and his eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. I stand there awkwardly, eyes following him as he grabs the helmet from the locked bag towards the back seat.

“Ya sure yer good t’ drive, bug? I can give ya a ride if yer not too much o’ a puss puss,” Harry remarks, turning to face me as he holds the buckle strap to the side, a smirk claiming his face.

“Yeah I’m good, thanks. Those four waters and twenty trips to the bathroom helped,” I answer, although regretfully as everything inside of me screams at me to accept.

Girl, how dumb are you?

Quiet, demon, I can’t take it back now.

“Good, ‘m glad t’ hear that, love. I uh, reckon ‘ll see ya inn’a week then?” he replies, sliding the helmet over his dark curls, fingering the chin strap.

“Yeah, the eighteenth.”

“Don’t miss me too much now,” he jests from behind the lack of visor that he had pushed up and out of the way. Even with the bulky metallic gold helmet, he’s so goddamn sexy it’s unbelievable.

“As long as you don’t miss me too bad either.”

“Eh, ‘ll try not t’ but it’ll be hard,” he echoes jokingly, squishing his lips to the side with a thought and suddenly they collapse into a pout. Then, he winks at me as he settles onto his bike. “See ya inn’a week, Becks.”

“Bye, Harry. Have a good weekend, and careful driving.”

“You too, bug, drive safe. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, gotta get tha recipe fer that Kinky Blue drink from ya,” he tells me, the bike rumbling to life when he twists the key in the ignition.

“Bye,” I exhale, taking one last look at him before I turn around. I put one foot in front of the other and walk away from him, my least favorite thing to do of all things on this planet.

From behind my steering wheel a few cars down, I watch in awe as he slides on gloves before toeing away the kickstand and pulling out of the lot, looking more handsome than ever.

Just when I think he can’t surprise me, he does just that, and in the best way possible. Every time.

+

“Care to explain where you’ve been all night, missy?”

“It’s not even eleven, Mom,” I respond with a firmness trying in my voice, but I can’t muster it as I slide off my boots. No, there’s not really any reason in the world that I could be upset right now, or feign anything other than utter happiness.

“I know, I can read a clock, Ree. Hey, what’s that big smile for? I never got to hear how your interview went yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” I realize aloud, the words falling automatically as I hang up my coat in the closet by our front door. Boy, is that a lot to unpack and rehash, and yet I look forward to relaying it all to her. That way, I get to relive all of it a little bit, and I don’t mind if I do. “Well, you were out all night partying too, so you can’t be mad at me.”

“You got me there, I’m guilty. Or can I say that yet, Ms. Lawyer?” Skye responds, a lightness showing in her words. After closing the door to the closet, I find the anxious eagerness waiting in her eyes, bringing elation to the front of my mind as I nod.

“I got the job yesterday,” I barely am able to say before she crossed the room, surrounding me in a hug. “Harry called me when I got home from work and told me the good news!”

“Oh my god, Ree, that’s so amazing! I’m so happy for you, holy shit!” she exclaims, amazing me at her strength when she squeezes me with her noodle arms. “Was he happy to see you?!”

“Yeah, I think so, and fuck he looked so good, Skye. He hugged me the first second he saw me.”

“Aww, that’s so bloody cute. So, when do you start?”

Pulling away, I look her in the eyes and revel in the happy celebration coating me in waves again.

“Monday the twenty-eighth, but I have orientation with him next Friday.”

“Oooo, lucky you!” she smiles, and I swear my happiness about the whole thing has only doubled since she stopped being angry at me for applying.

“And I may or may not have just went out for those belated dinner and drinks with him tonight,” I reveal slowly yet eagerly, watching more shock paint her face and her jaw drops.

“Ree, you basically went out on a date with him, that’s my girl!”

“Skye, it wasn’t a date!” I protest feebly, because once again any of the negative emotions have no chance at outshining the wonderful positive ones right this second. “It was just to celebrate my new job, and to make up for the dinner we never had this summer, and the drinks he wanted to get for my birthday which also didn’t happen.”

“Wait, what?!” she almost explodes, nearly all of the emotions under the sun covering her face, if only for a few seconds at a time. “I thought you didn’t talk to him on your birthday?”

“Well yeah, I didn’t besides that one text,” I answer, and then I slowly see the realization shine in her eyes.

“You opened his presents?!” she shouts, coming to grab my arms as I giggle with a nod.

“Yeah, after I got home and right before he called. Talk about a lot of happy tears yesterday.”

“No wonder you weren’t answering my calls, and I don’t blame you, you were a busy girl. Busy with Harry,” Skye notes aloud, the same sunny emotions showing in her words, but they die down as she nears her finish. “I told you he still cared about you.”

“I know, you were right all along, and it kills me that I ever believed he didn’t. He got me a mini purple piano keyboard, a journal to write songs in, the first season of FRIENDS, and wrote me the sweetest birthday card. Then, he called right after to tell me I got the job, and fuck, it all seems like a dream sometimes. But then I called him at work today to set up the orientation, and he had the idea to get together tonight, and it’s all like a dream come true,” I tell her softly, and slowly it all doesn’t seem so fake anymore, but instead it feels just like the dream I’ve always wanted my life to become.

“Girl, you are so lucky,” Skye comments, dragging me by the hand over to the sofa where we fall with a thud, heads resting on the back cushion. “Did you kiss him tonight? Because God, Ree, you are both so in love with each other, I dunno how you haven’t kissed him already.”

“I don’t know,” I muse aloud, staring at the ceiling, but really all I can see is him smiling at me at the bar. His hand on my back when I was coughing, bringing my hand into his when we said we missed the other, and all of those feelings sitting in his eyes that I’m sure he could’ve seen in mine as well. “I think I’ll wait until I get settled at the job, because starting a new job is always the worst part and overwhelming enough as it is.”

“If you say so, Boops, but I figure that’s not too bad of an idea.”

“Yeah, guess why?” I counter, turning my head to face her, finding strands of purple hair sticking out of her messy bun. She looks back at me, confusion etched into the lines in her forehead. “He’s my mentor for the next few years and I’m his mentee, so I get to work with him every day and all day.”

“Ree, you should’ve led with that! Holy shit, why didn’t you?” she exclaims, swatting my arm in disbelief as I dissolve into a happy laugh. “That’s amazing! You get to work with him and under him, it sounds like a pretty good deal,” she chuckles, her laughing lips falling into a please smile.

“I know, I really can’t believe the last two days sometimes. I hit the jackpot, the Harry jackpot,” I giggle happily, relaxing against the sofa, trying to remember his spicy vanilla scent. If I try hard enough, I can smell it when his hand covered my mouth in a joke, and the warmth of his touch the few times our hands met. It wasn’t nearly enough times, though. “I have to work with Myles my entire second week though, because he’ll be in Scotland to try the case I’m helping him prep for my first week.”

“That’s shitty,” she grimaces, crossing her arms over her chest clad in a fuzzy blue bathrobe. “Just ask him out when he gets back then, it’d be too annoying starting to date while he’s away. If you didn’t, I’m pretty sure you’d die from missing him, Ree.”

“Fuck, I already might, I’m dreading it,” I sigh sadly, not even wanting to think about how pathetic I already feel not looking forward to that week.

“I know you are, but don’t. You have so much more to look forward to just in the next few weeks, and maybe you can sneak your second and third date in there, and a kiss perhaps.”

“Oh my God, Skye, shut up,” I retort, but it’s soon consumed by my laughter as she pulls me into her arms and her chin rests on my head.

“I’m so blooming happy for you, Ree. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“So have I, Skye, so fucking long,” I recall aloud, trying not to let the melancholy find me as I lose myself thinking about how ungodly perfect he looked tonight. And how I get to see that handsome face five days a week for the near future; talk about lucky. Talk about a dreamboat finally lifting its sail.

+

The next few days seemed as if they took twice as long, and the mild headache I woke up to on Saturday morning didn’t help. Although relaxing, the day dragged on and soon it was Sunday, with another long week ahead of me. At least I had my orientation with Harry to look forward to that coming Friday, but I still wouldn’t start at his firm for another week after that. The anticipation was killing me, and so were the little moments Harry and I shared when I happened to remember them. Sometimes I wish the alcohol had stolen those memories away because they hurt too much to remember, but then at other times I’d never wish them away, because they give me something irreplaceable - hope.

One of the many things they don’t tell you about becoming an adult is how music makes everything all the more tolerable, and exciting. Air Hostess by Busted fills one of my ears as I pass the aisle for boxed pasta, pasta sauces, and the like. On an endcap, I grab a box of fettuccine that I toss into my cart. Lifting my eyes, my legs move again and come across a figure that walks right out in front of me. Our metal carts bang against the other’s as a warmth tickles my insides, and my lips.

“God, Styles, you’re an awful driver,” I remark with a tsk, removing the earbuds to stuff into my pocket.

“Oh, hey, Becks. ‘m sorry I didn’t see ya there,” he comments, turning his tired green eyes to mine. He messes with the gray knit beanie covering most of his messy locks, and it suddenly makes me hyper aware of my godawful just-fell-out-of-bed appearance.

“No duh you didn’t,” I snicker, kneading the plastic sheath on the cart’s push bar. “Wow, nice Sunday Best, I’m impressed,” I tease, running my eyes over the baggy gray sweats covering his legs and the cream Abbey Road crewneck on his torso.

“You as well, Ms. Power Rangers,” he quips, nodding his head at my outfit that compares very much to his with black cheetah sweats, a hoodie, and beanie. “Which one was yer favourite since there was neva a purple one when we were li’l?”

“I know, I felt so ripped off by that,” I sigh, following him as he takes off and turns into the next aisle. “But I always loved the red power ranger, I don’t really know why.”

“Hmmm, interestin’ seein’ how he was always tha one in charge. D’ya have a thing fer bossy men or sumthin’, Becks?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, tapping his bum with the front of my cart, earning evil eyes from him over his shoulder. “Who was your favorite Power Ranger, then?” I say, turning the tables to him. He comes to a stop in front of me, straying from his empty cart to grab a few cans of corn and peas.

“Green, I think. Can’t really rememba why,” he shrugs, placing the cans in the cart, soon returning to another section of shelves to pluck a large can of crushed tomatoes from it. “Which season was yer fav’?”

“Time Force, for sure.”

“Oh c’mon, Dino Force was far betta,” he scoffs disbelievingly, giving me another dirty look as he sets down the large can in his cart, crossing off something on the piece of blue paper he holds.

“Maybe you should be friends with my brother, seeing how you like all of the same stuff. The green Power Ranger was his favourite, and so was Dino Force,” I laugh, comparing two different brands of green beans, deciding on the cheaper one that I grab. My legs pass his cart and when I see him shrug his shoulders with a sly grin, I softly swat him on the arm, his name leaving me.

“Becks, ya betta watch it,” he giggles, catching my arm in his gentle grasp.

“Or what?”

“Don’t test me,” he warns, but the grin creasing his cheeks tells me otherwise, he’s harmless. I bump my shoulder against his after he lets go, but not without a tickle from him.

“Harry Styles,” I groan, grabbing a can of tuna from the shelf. His grin is wider when I turn around, rolling my eyes at him on my way back to my cart.

“Rebecca Holte,” he whines in a mocking voice, once again shocking me with his recollection of my name.

“Don’t, it sounds weird when you say my name like that.”

“It really does tho’,” he remarks agreeingly, words falling into a hearty laugh. I almost echo it until I spot the look on his face. Following his eyes to the shelves, I find his stuck to a display of Spaghettios. Some have meatballs in them, hotdogs, the pasta are in different shapes, and some cans are bigger than others. I’m not sure which one he’s looking at, but the absence of anything on his face whisks that question away. “Alright?” I ask softly, taking a few steps towards him, and he wakes back up when my hand touches his arm.

“Y-Ya,” he hums sadly, letting my fingers come around his forearm, almost as if I’m about to hook arms with him. God, I wish. “‘s been a while since ‘ve seen these, and even longa since I ate ‘em. I always used t’ eat ‘em at me granddad’s house with a piece o’ buttered bread,” he explains, nodding towards the arrangement.

“Oh, Harry,” I exhale, sadness bending my features as I squeeze his arm. He musters a forced laugh, carrying his eyes over to mine with apology held in them. “It’s almost been a year, hasn’t it?”

“Ya, this week. I can’t believe it,” he remarks softly, kneading his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger of his free right hand. “Almost think I should grab a can fer him, but I dunno if ‘d like ‘em now. I don’t wanna ruin that memory.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to buy it. You could buy or do something else to remember him, Harry.”

He nods beside me as I look up at him and watch the thoughts paint his face. It seems his face goes through every emotion within a minute - sadness, regret, confusion, frustration, grief, etc.

“Maybe get something you both like.”

“Ya, he loved those fudge-striped cookies, maybe I can find some o’ those instead,” he decides, tearing his eyes away from the lines of cans to meet mine. “Thanks . . Boops,” he smiles, that simple image calming the worrying of my heart.

I laugh and walk away from him, returning to my cart that I begin to push, but I find Harry’s in my way. With a playful groan, my lips part, “Come on, Harold, move it so we can go to the cookie aisle.”

“Hey, that’s not me name,” he responds, wrapping his bare fingers around the handle, giving me another glare over his shoulder.

“Well, neither is Rebecca, so don’t call me that.”

“But it ‘s actually yer name. Yer confusin’, y’know that?” he tuts, shaking his head as he looks straight ahead, moving down the aisle. “Hey, how’d ya eva come t’ be called ‘Boops’, anyways? I rememba Skye would call ya that sometimes when ‘d come ova.”

“God, I can’t believe you remember that nickname,” I groan, receiving a light chuckle from him ahead of me. On purpose, I bump the front of my cart against his bum again as he waits for somebody to pass.

“Becks- I mean, Rebecca, stop,” Harry says, turning halfway to meet my giggling eyes. One sits in his greens as well, but he only lets it show as a curling of one side of his mouth. “Ya I rememba, that’s all she called you. I think she did it on purpose.”

“Probably, knowing Skye she did it to bug me or embarrass me,” I comment, taking a right down the big aisle in between all of the smaller ones. Rows upon rows of cookies come before our eyes soon, along with baking supplies like flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. Dang, the amount of chocolate in this aisle is unreal, and somehow comforting. “My dad started it when I was a baby, or so I’ve been told. He’d tap my nose with his finger and it always made me laugh, I guess, so it stuck.”

“Aww, that’s adorable. Does he still boop yer nose when he calls ya that?”

“Sometimes,” I laugh, leaving my cart on the side as I pull out my phone, bringing up my shopping list. “So what are you all buying today?”

“That’s cute, y’know, and jus’ stockin’ up on some stuff. ‘m makin’ a pot pie t’night, so needed stuff fer that - carrots, an onion, celery, pie dough, broth, chicken, y’know,” he answers, bending down to squat so he can pull a pack of fudge stripes from the shelf. “Ah, here they are. I can’t rememba tha last time I had these eitha, but ‘m excited t’ try ‘em again, and think of Granddad when I have ‘em with a glass o’ milk.”

“Good idea,” I agree, patting him on the back as I tote a sack of flour in my other arm.

He finds me with his eyes over his shoulder, and those to-die-for dimples make an appearance again as his lips open with a smile, “Thanks, Boops,” he grins, tapping my nose with his finger. I want to tell him how original he’s being with that response, or the lack thereof, but the butterflies taking flight in my stomach consume all the bravery I had. “What’re you buyin’, hmm?”

“Same, just necessities.”

“Looks like yer bakin’ or sumthin’ with all that flour,” he comments, nodding to it as I set it down amongst the other items.

“Well, I’m going to make brownies, so yeah it’s a necessity, but that’s nothing new.”

“Ah, so Becks has become a baker, has she now?” he inquires, filling his arms with items up and down the aisle, because of course he is. I nod, joining him by a box of premade mixes, watching as he debates over which brownie mix to buy.

“I literally just said two seconds ago that I’m making homemade brownies, and you’re buying a box mix of them! Homemade is always better!” I exclaim, then groan with a disapproving shake of my head. “Harold.”

“Boops,” he returns, a smile winding its way up his cheeks covered in a light layer of dark facial hair. Now, that’s new, and what’s not to like? “I don’t mess with bakin’, so yes, ‘m buyin’ a box o’ premade. Unless ya’d like t’ make me some?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows at me with an idea forming inside of my head.

“Maybe if you stop calling me Boops and Rebecca, I will one time.”

“Noted,” he responds, winking at me as he replaces the box on the shelf.

“Good boy.”

He continues to smile at me, and quickly I remember what it’s like to stare into this sunlight, and how it’s not so bad sometimes. It’s quite wonderful, actually. The buzzing inside of my chest grows when his finger nears my face again, and then brushes under my eye.

“I like seein’ yer birthmark when ya don’t cover it up, ‘s pretty, Becks,” he hums, tracing his thumb over it, tickling my skin. A small ‘thanks’ drops from my lips at his words, and the buzzing only intensifies as he stares back at me. In that moment, I swear I could do it and I almost try to until he turns away. I attempt to find comfort in assuring myself that I don’t want our theoretical first kiss to be in the middle of the supermarket, lest anybody join us in this aisle. “I think that’s all I needed t’day.”

Thoughts are building into words on my tongue until the ringing of my phone interrupts my plans. This is definitely not all that I needed today, per say. Lifting it towards my face, I see my dad’s smiling face waiting for me, reminding me I haven’t spoken to him in days amidst everything going on. He’s already called a few times and I wasn’t able to answer, and he’s probably starting to grow concerned. I also really need to tell him about the new job. He’ll be so happy, and I can only imagine the suggestive things he’ll say about Harry. Oh boy.  

“I should take this,” I announce, bringing my eyes back to his. He nods as he arrives back in front of his cart. “It was nice to see you and only one of you,” I snicker, alluding to the far too many drinks we consumed the other night.

“You too, Becks, it was nice runnin’ into ya. ‘ll try not t’ crash carts with ya tha next time,” he returns with a warm smile, coming towards me as he pushes his cart. The next time? Can you please not tease me like this, Harry? I want all of the grocery shopping trips with you, even if they’re only like this where I can’t have my arm hooked through yours. Maybe one time we’ll only need one cart, just maybe. He lifts an arm and squeezes mine on his way down the aisle. “Take care, bug, ‘ll see ya Friday.”

“Bye, Harry. Careful driving that thing!” I call out, and this time he doesn’t give me a dirty look when he looks back at me. Instead, he sends me that blinding smile of his I love so damn much. “And, I’ll be thinking of you this week, I know it’ll be a hard one.”

“Thanks, bug, I appreciate it,” he returns, winking at me before turning back around and rounding the corner, just as I press Accept on my phone.

“Hi, Dad,” I say, waiting to hear my dad’s comforting voice.

“Hey, Boops. How’s my favourite girl?” he asks, the warmth in his voice providing me with happiness, and stealing it away at the same time. God, I miss him sometimes, I realize inside my thoughts. As I still stare down the aisle, I miss another man too.

It seems I’m always missing these two every second of every day, and one of Harry’s hugs that I wish I’d stolen a few seconds ago.

+

As the numbers climb in front of my eyes, the last few days flash before them. Somehow, I’m amazed when the number seventeen appears before my eyes in a bright red font. The last week has dragged on at times, thoughts of Harry and standing in this very lift occupying my every thought. Checking my watch, I’m glad to see I’m early, just like I had planned.

The gunmetal doors part in front of me and I’m rewarded with the sight of Seventeen in all of its glory. The buzzing returns in my chest, and so do the multitudes of butterflies in my gut as I look around. It does and doesn’t look the same as before, but it smells the same, and in some ways it sounds the same. The Cubiclers are gone and now more offices line the walls, and a certain somebody sits inside of one this very instant. The very same person I get to spend the entire day with, and it’s the first of oh so many. I take a long look around, admiring the gleaming tiled floors and the dark wooden walls, a new cream chandelier or two dotting the ceiling. God, that remodel must not have been cheap, I think silently, and soon wonder if a certain somebody’s father in construction had anything to do with it.

I almost expect to see him round one of the corners of the large floor dedicated to the firm, but I don’t, and I’m unsure of how I feel about it. It’s all washed away when I find the door I’ve been looking for, and it’s open.

“Hey, stranger,” I announce, leaning against the door frame with a cheeky grin plastered across my face. “Look at you with the fancy new office all to yourself.”

Their tousled head of sandy hair lifts from their computer screen, and I watch his eyes change almost entirely. My name falls from his lips as he stands up and crosses the room to me, enveloping me in a hug.

“What are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re here?”

“Yeah, he knows,” I smile against Asher’s shoulder, pulling away after a moment of being surrounded by his crisp cologne. “I work with him uh soon - I got the associate job, and he’s my mentor.”

Again, the look on his face changes in a blink, and astonishment paints him in stripes. A nervous laugh falls from his lips as he grips my shoulders and clucks his tongue in disbelief.

“You’re always good with the surprises, aren’t you?” Asher replies and I nod, waiting for him to say more. “Becky, t-this is what you want?”

“Yeah, it’s what I want. He’s already been so kind to me, and we’ve been talking a lot. He picked me over everybody else, Ash!” I respond, watching the words register with him as he nods the slightest. “I’m not going to let him get away this time.”

“As long as you’re happy, and he’s good to you,” he insists, pointing a stern finger at me dotted with shiny blonde hairs.

“Yes, he’s already being good to me, Ash. We went out for dinner and drinks that we meant to do this summer, and things are already looking up.”

“Good, good. That’s already progress, Becky,” he hums, and I mumble a brief agreement. “But still, what are you doing here now?”

“Oh, I have my orientation with him today, but I don’t start officially until the twenty-eighth, after I finish my job at the courts,” I reply, and he nods a little harder this time, biting on his thumb.

“I see, it’s all making some sense now, thank God. So, when are you going to ask him on a date?”

“Ash!” I exclaim, following him further into his plain looking office where he sits on the corner of his desk. He crosses his arms over the ochre button down showing a white t-shirt underneath. “It’s not even my first day of work yet!”

“So? You’re wasting precious time!” he argues, his loud chuckle soon stealing away his words. I groan as my eyes roll into the back of my head, soon pushing up the sleeve of my dark violet blazer to find my brown leather watch.

“Yeah, sitting here arguing with you,” I giggle, returning my eyes to his summer blues.

“No, you’re right, because you could be talking to him right now. You know, flirting with him and asking him on a date.”

“Ash, stop!” I laugh, turning to walk away, but I stop when I reach his door. “I like the new office by the way, I’m happy they finally made you head of I.T. I’m really happy for you,” I say softly pointing to the words on his door, hanging onto the handle as he meets my eyes softly.

“Thanks, Becky, I appreciate it. It was about time Bitchie Trishie retired anyways, fuck was she old.”

“Ditto,” I smile and he returns it right away. “I’m really happy to be back.”

“I’m happy you are too, and I’m sure Harry is as well. You should get going, you don’t want to make a bad uh, second impression,” he notes, shooing me away with his hand.

We say our goodbyes and I return to the hallway, straightening my unbuttoned blazer over my long slacks the same color for probably the twentieth time this morning. What feels like for the fiftieth time, I smooth down the chiffon black blouse tucked in underneath, hoping I ironed out every single wrinkle. Skye’s words from his morning when we said goodbye come back to me with a warm smile.

“Ree, if he doesn’t realize what he’s been missing the second he sees you in that outfit, I’m going to be very disappointed in him,” she mused, shaking her head with pursed lips and arms crossed over her chest as I laughed nervously.

My black pumps echo with every step I take on the immaculate floors, soon finding Amelia at the front desk who I wave at, not bothering to check in again. Asher’s comment and its ambiguity comes to mind as I take a right through the lobby. What did he mean that he’s sure Harry is happy I’m back, too? Since when do Asher and Harry talk, or when have they ever spoken to each other with more than three words? Does he know something that I don’t know?

I don’t get another second to think about it, because soon I turn down the hallway. His hallway. The nerves of anticipation and excitement come over me as a smile grows hastily on my lips. I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I think I know, probably months, or even years. It’s hard to believe that the last time I was in his office, it was two years ago. The thought appears with a sting when I remember the last time I was in his office, because of him walking in on Amber well, assaulting me. A moment that I ended when I walked away from him, and here I am walking back to him, and I couldn’t be happier.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

I see his door first, and how it’s ajar, letting a section of his office peek through. Then, I hear the Paul McCartney song escaping from his office, followed by his humming. The humming doesn’t match the song oddly enough, but it transports me back to the hospital in Madley when I was wrapped in his arms. It’s the same song he was humming then that I still can’t figure out. God, those kinds of things bug me.

I see him first, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that, because I get a few extra seconds to admire him. It allows me to remember the way he absently twirls a piece of hair around his finger when he’s lost in a thought, how he always crosses his legs at the ankles under his desk bobbing a foot to the music, and just how incredible he always manages to look in a suit. A pastel teal number hugs his trim body with a cream button up underneath, giving me a peek at his thick chest hair underneath. Oh, I could just eat him up. If only.

Swallowing, I take the time for a silent deep breath before rapping my knuckle against the cold glass of his door with nervous lips, “Good morning, boss.”

His head flies up and I think I’ve scared him almost, but the happiness that consumes his face is instantaneous and contagious as ever. It spreads across his flushed skin until my favorite little things about his smile appear before my eyes, making this all the more real. The perfect little curls falling over his forehead make it all the worse, and the better.

“Mornin’. Are ya ready t’ get started, Ms. Holte?”

“Yes, I’ve never been more ready,” I reply, the anxiousness abating as he stands from his chair.

“Great, then let’s get started with yer official orientation as a lawyer fer Styles and Lawson,” he announces, firmness playing in his words until they end with sunshine dancing across them, his footsteps finding their way to me. “Y’know, ‘ve been waitin’ a long time fer this day, Becks, too long.”

Me too, Harry. I’ve been waiting for what feels like forever for this new beginning.