#because i was reading my job description again last night and omg

[indynerdgirl]

Hello, my lovely followers! I hope you're all having a good Monday so far. 😊

I just wanted to let you all know that starting tomorrow, I won't be as active on here during the day as I currently am because I'm starting a new job tomorrow that has much stricter internet use policies on work computers than my current job. Because of that, I expect my active Tumblr hours will shift to the last afternoon/evening (I'm in EST if that helps!).

While I'm super excited for this new chapter in my life to start, I am kinda disappointed that I won't be able to use Tumblr as my daily brain breaks like I currently do and I'll also miss being able to chat via messages.

Anyways, wish me luck and say some prayers for me because I still feel like an imposter. 🙃😆

[misseffect]

read your garrus/miranda piece it was AMAZING omg you have such a way with descriptions and details!!! do you have any thoughts abt how that relationship might play out for the rest of ME2 and 3?

hi anon!!!!!!! thank you so much 🥰🥰

I was actually sketching out up to the end of ME3 when I first started working on the prompt and have been chatting with @otemporanerys about it since.

Under the cut because I have Long Thoughts

(y'all can read The Woman In White here)

For Garrus, the initial shock is sort of eclipsed by the whole Shepard thing and then by the whole rocket thing, so the first time they really talk is when he's already on the Normandy.

He goes to her office after he gets out of the medbay, metaphorical cap in hand, to thank her for putting him on the crew.

M: if I'd had my way you wouldn't even have made the shortlist. get out of my room. G: aaaaand we're back to normal

Miranda stays juuust on the professional side of openly hostile from then on. Shepard picks up on the rancid vibes (obviously) and Garrus comes clean about the job.

S: you helped send experimental super-weapons back to cerberus?!? G: I didn't know she was cerberus S: give me strength

Out of sheer necessity, they end up doing each other's loyalty missions because Shepard is too paragon busy, and that's how things start to thaw.

M, realising G wasn't just on some kind of blind, ego-fuelled vendetta and actually really cared about his squad: .....shit G, realising M isn't the heartless, unattached shell of a person he thought she was and actually really cares about her sister: .....crap

Garrus even offers to set Ori's family up with some cyber security stuff; Miranda's looking for an ulterior motive like

They sleep together again before the suicide mission, obviously, because they learned nothing from the last time they thought they'd never see each other again.

This time Miranda doesn't leap out of bed immediately, and after a moment or two Garrus realises she's fallen asleep on his arm and - crap - if that's not the most disarming thing that's ever happened to him.

G: maybe we'll both die in a hail of bullets and I won't have to deal with the fact that I'm maybe possibly slightly in love with someone who hates my guts Narrator: they did not die in a hail of bullets

They go off to do their separate things after ME2. Garrus is on Palaven writing and deleting a hundred variations on "still finding time to date now the universe is ending?" and each one sounds worse than the last. He's not sure he'd like the answer anyway.

For ME3 I think their overall roles are still as per canon (Garrus on the Normandy and Miranda is sneaking around after Cerberus) so they just kind of stew until Sanctuary.

Miranda gets injured during the fight with Kai Leng (Shepard didn't pass along the warning so Garrus did it behind her back) and Garrus, feeling a Very Normal amount of fear as Miranda bleeds out on the floor, shoots Henry Lawson in the face. like he deserves.

They evac back to the Normandy and Garrus spends the next few days trying to figure out what a non-suspicious amount of time to spend in the medbay is.

Shepard: just so we're clear I do not want her on my ship and I'm doing this as a personal favour to you G: to...... me? S: I'm a pretty busy woman vakarian and even I can see you're in love with her G: * spluttering *

And that's how Miranda gets invited to the party at Anderson's apartment (never let it be said that Commander Shepard is a bad wingman) and they end up on the balcony, a little drunk, talking about ✨the future✨

Garrus doesn't want to assume, but he's getting That Night In Luminesce vibes.

M: there's going to be a lot to do, even if we win. I'm sure I won't be short of work G: that's it? just more work? M: * shrugs * G: hey, maybe you could get that cat you always wanted

And Miranda - drunk, sad, exhausted, and standing next to this person who, for whatever reason, keeps insisting that she deserves good things - bursts into tears.

She comes clean about the men she was seeing on Omega and future she desperately wants - which isn't achievable and never will be, whether they survive the war or not - and that's about when Garrus realises he's completely and utterly fucked.

I'll speed through the rest because this is getting l o n g SO

1. they bounce to go and have a lot of intense and entirely-too-sincere sex in a hotel room (again)

2. Garrus tells her he loves her (sort of by accident but not really) which goes about as well as you'd expect

3. They're both too stubborn to reach out first ofc but, facing down the final run to the beam, Garrus leaves her a heartfelt voicemail and she misses calling him back by all of 5mins

4. They make up over Shepard's now twice-reassembled body (thanks Shep) adopt a few kids, and get then set about the serious business of getting old and hot together

FIN

[rnebbie]

Skys The Limit (request)

Tom Hiddleston x teen!reader, Tom Hiddleston x co star!reader

Request description: how about Tom Hiddleston with a teen!reader whose just getting into acting? maybe something along the lines of him showing them the ropes? i'm just excited to see what you come up with :D

Requested by: @ohworm-writes

Warnings: lack of sleep in the beginning ???

(A/n): omg YAYYY first request & first fic!! I am so excited to do more. If ur reading this rn… ur witnessing the beginning!! Lolll jk. I hope u don’t mind I added a bit of a twist and I didn’t stick to the plot that well… actually this might be nothing like u wanted LOL IM SORRY … hopefully u like. :D totally fine if not. Lmk!!! Also if anyone wants to be added to my tag list plz totally lmk bc I’ve got no one rn LOL & send more requests!

You’d just gotten into acting not long ago. It’s something you’ve always had an interest for, but only recently did you actually get your first acting job, and you were ecstatic.

You could barely sleep the days leading up to your first day on set. You’d already had your bags packed to leave the first day you’d heard you were signed. And the night before your first day on set, you couldn’t find yourself settling down. That didn’t make a great first impression on your co-star, Tom Hiddleston, As you had bags under your eyes, and though very excited to meet him, you weren’t your true self because of your lack of sleep.

The next morning, once you arrived on set, Tom had two coffees with him. One he was already drinking out of, and one that had your name on it. He smiled and handed it to you. You thanked him and you two walked for a little while together.

“So, I’ve heard you're brand new to the industry. Is this correct?” Tom asks, as you’re walking alongside him. “That appears to be the case.” You reply jokingly in an English accent. Tom can tell you two are going to be good friends, and invites you to dinner after filming is over, whenever that may be.

After filming is finally over for the day, you and Tom take thirty minutes to wash up, before meeting at the restaurant in the lobby of the hotel that you, along with all the crew is staying at, in separate rooms, of course.

“You’re lucky to be working with me on your first acting job. I know everything.” Tom assured you. You’re confused for a moment that this professional actor seems to have such a kind and funny personality, but you laugh, nonetheless. You ask questions, and he answers them as if he’d learned the facts in the first grade.

After that dinner, that’s not the last time he teaches you things. Every time you two are together, he makes sure you learn a new lesson. He doesn’t have any kids of his own, and so he feels like he’s got to share all of his knowledge with someone. He knows that you’re someone worth knowing what he knows, and tries to tell you everything.

He’ll stop you in the middle of your scenes together, saying “pause.” And holding a figure up to the directors, and the cameras, and they know to give you two a minute. One time you two were in the middle of an emotional scene, and he stopped you for the first time. You were pretty angry, as you’d just gotten yourself to cry after massive amounts of practice (that, surprise surprise, Tom gave you.) he kept stopping the scene over and over again. “You know you have more to give, y/n. Use it.” He assured you.

Eventually, after all was said and done, although you were very annoyed with Tom for making you restart over and over, that anger manifested into tears that you were able to use to your advantage. The scene was determined to be one of the best in all of cinematic history. It’s a scene you, and Tom, would never live down. All thanks to him.

“What’s the best piece of advice you feel like you could give me?” You ask him, a little later into the first dinner you two ever had. He pauses for a good minute, and you sit on the edge of your seat, anticipating what it may be. “Never, ever, let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Prove the cynics wrong. Pity them for they have no imagination. The sky's the limit. Your sky. Your limit.” He says. You sit in awe, and nod your head. “Not bad, Hiddleston.”

~

It’d been five years since you wrapped your movie with Tom hiddleston. You’re much more grown up now, and you’ve had an abundance of jobs. You’re a well known, and successful actor. People look up to you immensely. They always talk about how, though getting into the acting industry only years prior, you seem to have been born for the screen. And people always ask you how you got to know the industry so well.

That’s what you’d been hearing all night. Your throat hurts from how many questions you’d answered on the red carpet. How many “thank you”s you’d beamed to the interviewers. And how many exciting noises you’d muttered out once people congratulated you on your Emmy nominee.

You sit at a table with your closest friends and family, and some of the actors you’d become closest with during your career. All night you wait anxiously, repeating your speech in your head, just in case on the off chance, you win the award.

Once it comes to your division, you close your eyes, and try not to pay attention. Too scared to be denied your prize, but too anxious to accept it. You barely even hear once they call your name, confirming you won the award. You won the Emmy.

You sit, shocked, and your best friend has to nudge your arm to shock you back into reality. You already start tearing up, and you stand up to hug them. Then you make your way to the stage.

Once seeing how many people are in front of your eyes, and how many people must be watching at home, you’re dumbfounded. You feel like every word of the speech you’d practiced a thousand times, just slips away from your memory. You scan the crowd in nervousness, trying to remember the tips you’d follow in middle school when you had a presentation, imagine everyone in their underwear. But once you’d locked eyes with Emma Watson, you had to blink and shake the thought away. That wouldn’t work.

Once you opened your eyes again, the first person you saw was Tom Hiddleston. He was standing up, clapping his hands aggressively, with a massive smile on his face. You couldn’t tell because of how out of it you were, and because you were pretty far from him, but you could almost see his eyes watering as he watched you like a proud father.

You smiled big back at him, acknowledging and silently thanking him. After all, you don’t know where you’d be without him.

“Okay, wow. Hi! Oh my god!” You start, anxiously and completely at a loss for words. “This is absolutely, and utterly not what I was expecting…” you start, getting a laugh out of the majority of the crowd.

“This is just- wow! This is crazy! Thank you so much!” You say, gesturing to the Emmy you’re holding, it feels like an insane fever dream, you’re waiting for a bear to come through the walls and eat your Emmy, or something drastic that would only happen in a nightmare.

“First off, thank you so much to the members of the ATAS for nominating me for such an incredible opportunity and an amazing award, I can’t believe you think I’m worthy of it, but I’m not complaining!” You get another laugh out of the audience. “And a massive thank you to my agency, my manager, my friends and my amazing family for never doubting me in my acting abilities. If not for your love and support, there’s absolutely no way I’d be standing here right now!” You say, wiping a tear from your eye, in authentic awe of the moment you’re experiencing.

You think for a moment about what else you need to acknowledge, what else got you to this point?

You look back to the general area Tom was seated in, and he gives you a huge smile and a thumbs up. Something he’d always done on set when you’d done an incredible job on a take. Any time you needed reassurance, he knew and was there to give it to you. You blink and tears run down your cheeks. You think back to the kid you were five years ago and how lost and new they were to the acting industry, and they feel like an absolute stranger to you now.

“And finally, the biggest thank you is owed to Tom Hiddleston. I don’t even know how I got into the acting business before knowing him, because I swear to god, it’s like I knew nothing! Tom taught me everything I know, and without him I would be absolutely nowhere. I’d just be another kid with their head lost in clouds. The best advice he ever gave me is something that’s gotten me through every day. Every challenging day when I didn’t want to deal with the media, when acting felt like too much work, when I’d cry on set because I felt like I was missing out on normal teenage experiences. Tom was there for everything, and he always said, “Never, ever, let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Prove the cynics wrong. Pity them for they have no imagination. The sky's the limit. Your sky. Your limit."”

-

Taglist:

1,508 words

[anyoneseenadam]

The Moon Spirit - two

Dorian x reader, Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

Description: When you’re taught to be a queen from such a young age, nothing could go wrong. But when the king starts to fear your growing power you find yourself thrust into a world of faeries, evil magic and powerful men, learning to stand on your own can be harder than it seems.

warnings: blood, graphic descriptions of violence, objectification, gross old men, Dorian is a ball of love and niceness however, angst, fluff, possibly smut in later chapters

word count: 2.9k 

a/n: oof the plans i have for this series omg!! i hope you like this pls comment and tell me what u think and also feel free to give any ideas/ theories i love getting that sm!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

——————————————————————————-

Finding a place to get a drink was easier said than done.

You had ridden along the cold, barren road for hours – your only company being the birds singing above you, the horse moving below you and the small bundle of content wrapped in your arms who had fallen asleep in your arms in seconds, occasionally yawning widely. And through those hours you had met no one and seen no place to stop.

You eventually had to stop, exhaustion slowing you down. You moved off course and tied your horse to a tree next to a small stream, running a comforting hand through its mane as it drank slowly. You slowly stripped off as well, taking your time as you removed the blood-soaked layers from your skin. Once you were bare, shivering in the cool morning air, you stepped slowly into the stream – swearing enough to make a sailor blush.

However, you relented, running your hands over your skin, wiping away the guards’ blood with a heavy heart as the water turned pink. Your whole body ached, yet you were numb. Men were dead because of you, and - if he hadn’t already – Dorian would hear of your disappearance soon. And then the king would pick him a new bride, and you would be forgotten.

Just as intended.

Amaris was mewling behind you, hungry and cold, wondering why you had left. Or maybe that was just you, maybe you were projecting. You climbed out of the water, pulling your undergarments back on as you found a sunny patch to sit in, allowing the newly risen sun to cleanse away the remnants of the night, drying your skin slowly.

After half an hour of silent tears you picked yourself back up, pulling on your stiff clothes and climbing onto your horse as you set off again. You couldn’t just lie down and die, no matter how much you wanted to, you had to look after your last gift from Dorian, and you had look after yourself.

--

You ended up riding for hours more before you wandered into a small town. Dismounting, you led your horse through the town as you searched for a place to get food and maybe clean clothes, glaring down your nose at anyone who stared to long. Much like Dorian used to.

No. You tried to expel the thought of him from your head, not needing to be swept up in the thought of his forget-me-not eyes, nor did you need to remember that you may never get to look into them again.

What you needed was the tavern you could see at the end of the street.

You pushed through the street, ignoring the townspeople as you moved to the stables beside the tavern, giving your horse rest, food, and water. You hid Amaris in your coat as you moved into the tavern – back straight and head high as you walked.

The bar quietened down when you moved in, a small sprout woman pausing handing out drinks as she stared at you over a high skew nose. The bar smelt of sour whisky and piss, the surfaces barely visible beneath the dirt that covered every surface – the only source of light coming from tall candles that had been stuffed into wine bottles. The curtains over the windows were drawn tight, not allowing any other light in and the people in the bar all looked remarkably similar, tired. The woman behind the bar was petite, with a face alike a weasel and when she spoke you discovered her voice was just as shrill as you expected.

“And who do you think you are?” she moved in front of the bar, walking towards you as you levelled your gaze.

“I’m no one.” You replied, the answer vague enough that she hopefully wouldn’t try again.

“Then what do you want?” she was exasperated as she spoke, and you allowed yourself a moment of reprise as you glanced down at your clothes.

“A drink would be nice,” your voice was curt, tired. The small lady rolled her eyes, moving away as you approached the bar, allowing her to pour you a glass of cheap, hard liquor.

She slid it towards you, and you knocked it back quickly. “Do you also have fresh clothes and maybe some food for me and my cat?”

As she left with an eye roll, a man approached you, his hairline receding and breath fowl as he slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning far too close for your comfort as you trained your eyes forward.

“I can offer you a job,” he nodded his head and you looked over to see his eyes trained on the prostitutes in the corner, “I’ll even offer a free trial. To get you started.”

You felt panic rise like bile in your throat, your entire body tensing as you shoved this man’s arm of your shoulder. You calmed your face – unwilling to let any emotion show as you faced him.

“You couldn’t afford me,” you snarled, pushing down the heat growing in you as the curious eyes of the towns’ folk were once again turned on you.

“You bitch!” the man began shouting but was cut off by the shrill woman’s return. She unceremoniously dumped a pile of clothes in your lap, along with a small loaf and some fish, her gaze expectant.

You loosened the bracelet around your wrist, dropping it into her hand as she stared at the large jewels adorning it.

“That should cover it.” you muttered as you stood, keeping your gaze angry and forward as you shouldered past the burly man. You bundled the clothing and food in one hand, the other still holding Amaris tight to your chest as you left the dirty tavern.

You found your horse again, offloading the goods you had received into the worn satchels on its side – leading it out of the barn slowly, desperate to get out of this town.

--

Dorian was a mess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, could barely speak anymore. It was enough to lose you, but to then realise that his own father had driven you away. His own father had made you feel so unsafe in your own home that you couldn’t even run to him, his father had made you feel so completely isolated that your only choice was to flee.

Chaol was trying to coax him back into civilised life, his brother mourning the loss of his friend, yet itching to find you. And level-headed as always, Chaol knew that wouldn’t happen with Dorian spending his days drinking or in bed – often both.

But Dorian didn’t know how to cope, he didn’t know how to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was okay. That was your specialty.

Almost a month had passed, and you certainly were nowhere to be seen. You weren’t coming home anytime soon and he was going to have to learn how to live without you eventually.

Every morning he woke up, a part of him hoped it was a bad dream, that you would be asleep in his arms, or giggling and pressing dizzying kisses into his jaw. He hoped one day he would just wake up and you would wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, tell him it was just a nightmare and stroke his hair until he fell back asleep.

But he knew that couldn’t happen, that life wasn’t kind enough to return his bride to him and so instead he chose to numb his thoughts. He ignored the flirty eyes of other woman, unable to look at them in their expensive dresses and jewels without his mind returning to you.

Everyday that passed without you hurt that much more, so when he sat on his throne as Chaol approached him with a beautiful but deadly woman, he decided since he couldn’t have his perfect woman, he must find her opposite. He couldn’t be who he was before – so he must become someone new.

--

You weren’t faring much better. The day you had left the bar, you had ridden all the way to the coast of Terrasan and had climbed onto the first boat to Doranelle. By the time you arrived in the city you had just about sold anything of value on your person and all you had left to sell was the poor horse you had taken away.

By the time it was just you and Amaris, you had acquired a small flat in the city – the walls were bare and there was only simple furniture in it, the mattress on the floor next to large windows, and worn cushions on a makeshift sofa next to a wooden table.

Every night Amaris crawled into bed next to you, licking away salty tears from your face as you pulled the thin, scratchy sheet closer over you – hoping to replicate even a shred of Dorian’s warmth, or the feeling of his arms wrapped secure around your waist. Most nights you didn’t sleep, the bags growing under your eyes as your heart slowly numbed. Amaris would bury himself in the warmth of your chest as your eyes blurred, watching the city move outside of your flat – the noise subdued and calming.

On the third day in the new city you set out to find work, desperate to find something that could numb the thoughts in your mind and make the days easier. Plus you were sick of grabbing the easiest food you could find. You found yourself walking to a library, deciding it would be the perfect mixture of solitude and work for you. And it helped that you had spent most your life reading, many nights curled under Dorians arms as you read your separate books – occasionally reciting a line to the other.

The old man at the front of the library was kind, his face wrinkled from easy smiles, and you could understand why his long, long life seemed so pleasing. The bookshelves were tall, dizzyingly tall, and filled with countless books that you wished you could search through for hours. There were also tall, stained windows lining the walls, letting in the beautiful morning light and showing how the dust danced around the room.

“So what brings you here?” he asked, moving around the desk he sat at and motioning for you to take a seat on the small, cushioned seats next to him.

You sat down gently, back straight but keeping your eyes trained on your neatly folded hands. “I need work, sir. I have very good qualifications and have been educated by the best.”

He laughed slightly at that, “That much is clear, my child. But I asked what brings you here? What is your story?”

You looked up to meet his eyes, unable to stop the pain that they revealed, and he took your hands gently in his warm ones, “The world has treated you poorly I see.”

You felt tears build in your eyes – this kindness so alien to your battered heart you couldn’t help yourself as you let out a soft sob. The man smiled kindly at you, squeezing your hands gently as he urged you to talk to him.

“I was f-forced to leave the man I loved,” you choked out, “his father tried to… hurt me.” Your explanation was an over-simplification, but you feared what may occur if you revealed the truth.

“Was he your mate?” the man asked kindly, and you shook your head.

“I am not Fae,” you explained, and he frowned, passing you his handkerchief as he stood.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, retrieving a small, hand-held mirror, and handing it to you. You took it with a confused expression before looking in, gasping under your breath as you saw your ears had taken on a delicate point.

“I, I don’t- that’s not possible.” You shook your head, eyes wide as they met his.

“Where do you come from child?” he voice was gentle as he took in your shock.

“Adarlan.” You whispered and he smiled sympathetically.

“Then I believe a glamour has been removed recently.” You could feel yourself shaking, the weight of the knowledge hitting you. “Let me take a name dear, you can start work tomorrow, we’ve been needing some extra hands around here.”

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” your voice was small as you stood, shaking his hand lightly. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem and remember when you work you can have a read through any book you like. Aisle sixteen contains many on the ancient spirits.” He looked down to your necklace pointedly and you bit your tongue so hard you tasted blood, desperate to not reveal any more than you already had.

“Thank you…” you trailed off and he smiled,

“Albert,” he finished for you. “And make sure to take care on your way home, this city is filled with powerful people, you would be smart to not mix with them.”

You nodded, pocketing the information in your mind, ready to add it to your list of rules.

--

Fenrys was tired. He had just gotten home from a month-long mission and all he wanted was to sleep, however he wasn’t quite ready to face Maeve yet and instead he decided to take a trip to his favourite library before she realised he was back.

He was walking in when he saw you, your eyes red but hopeful and he almost fell over at the sight of you. You were wearing common clothes but held yourself like royalty, head high and gaze ready to tear down a man who so much as looked at you wrong.

What he did next he wasn’t exactly proud of, but he needed an excuse, so he was willing to play his hand a bit. “Excuse me miss, do you happen to know where I could find the tilted goose?” your eyes widened when you saw him, fuelling his ego slightly.

He knew where the tilted goose was of course, it was one of his favourite bars, but you didn’t have to know that.

“Oh yeah, it’s just down this way. I’m walking that way I’ll show you,” your voice was like music to his ears, and he smiled, revelling in how you avoided his gaze, clearly intimidated by his stature.

“Thank you so much…?” he asked, and you smiled, softly, subdued.

“(y/n),” you stared walking in the correct direction, and he grinned.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Fenrys.” He placed a hand to his chest as you laughed lightly.

“Quite a flirt aren’t you?” you asked, eyes sparkling.

“Can’t help myself, I’m not sure I’ve ever met such a beautiful woman.” He looked down to you as he fell into step beside you, noticing that you were taking a much longer way than needed. “You new here?”

“How’d you tell?” your tone was self-deprecating, and he laughed.

“This way takes about five minutes longer.” He stated and you whirled around, pointing a finger accusingly.

“You know how to get there.” He felt his face heat up as he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Maybe…” he grinned, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you began to storm off.

“See you around princess!” he called after you, almost missing the way your shoulders stiffened momentarily before you called over your shoulder.

“You’d be so lucky!” you replied, pace quickening as he watched you climb a set of stars that led to some run-down apartments.

He laughed, the smiled on his face coming naturally and surprising him. Oh his life was about to get much better.

--

You shouldn’t have enjoyed the pretty man’s company. And you hated yourself for it.

But he was so kind and for five minutes he made you feel normal again, loved again. See you around princess! The words wouldn’t stop replaying in you head. You weren’t allowed to be a normal girl; you were a princess, and you were on the run, and you definitely had no time for handsome men who flirted with you.

You couldn’t betray Dorian like that, he was probably waiting for you to come home. And you planned to. You would build your strength and you would learn to fight, and you would tear the king to shreds.

But for now, you had to settle for getting through each day, and that meant you had no time for handsome distractions. As you steeled your nerves you felt the loneliness settle on your shoulders, wrapping around you like a shadow, and you fought to reach deep inside yourself, finding the sliver of magic that was curled up – dormant – inside of you.

You found it and fought to awaken it, only receiving a shard of the true power. You stood in front of the dirty mirror in your bathroom, taking in your newly pointed ears and watching as your necklace glowed gently, your eyes turning silver as you released a small amount magic, watching as the bright light shattered the mirror in front of you.

Your eyes widened at the loud noise and with a flinch the magic was gone, the only proof it was even there was the shattered mirror in front of you.

You stared back at the cracked reflection and squared your shoulders. You were going to train, you were going to fight, and you were going to win. Even if it broke you.

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.8

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Eight: Wild Love: Spencer gets something off his chest while you’re stuck in a hotel room. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading.     Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, very angsty, this whole series is a real slow burn babyyy

series masterlist

A/N: y’all are killing me with all the love on this story so far omg. i am so appreciative of every single comment, like, reblog, all the sweet things you say in the tags etc. etc. thank you and i hope you like this chapter (this one turned out to be more conversation than descriptions of feelings/thoughts just fyi) ! x

-

“Since we’re stuck here for the night, how about one more drink?” Luke asked, glancing between the team. “You buying?” Matt teased making everyone else chuckle. Luke rolled his eyes. “If that’s what it takes.”

All flights were grounded due to a heavy snowstorm. This meant that after solving their most recent case, the team were forced to remain on location. At a small bed and breakfast right in the middle of nowhere.

“I’ll have another drink.” Emily stated with a smile. “Sure, why the hell not. It’s not often I get a night away from my boys.” JJ added. Tara also raised her hand, indicating she'll have one more.

All heads turned to you and Spencer. The brunette doctor sat quietly in the corner. Clearly a lot on his mind. You were right by his side, gently resting your head against his shoulder.

A small yawn escaped your lips. “I think I’m gonna call it a night guys.” You said, slowly sitting up. “It’s been a heck of a day, and the bed is calling my name.” The group groaned, but didn't protest. Instead, they all looked to Spencer who seemed to be debating his options.

“What about you Reid?” Luke asked. “Care for another one?”

“Sure. Uh, I’ll walk Y/N to her room and I’ll be right back.” “It’s okay Spencer, stay. I’ll be fine.” You countered while getting up to your feet however, the handsome doctor wasn’t taking no for answer.

Unknown to you, unknown to everyone apart from Penelope, Spencer’s been trying to find the right moment to tell you how he really felt. He spent the last two months debating whether it was a good idea. The idea of telling you he was still in love with you scared the shit out of him because it could go one of two ways:

1. You feel the same way and call off the engagement. The two of you get back together and he spends the rest of his living breathing days making you the happiest woman on earth.

2. You don’t feel the same way and you end up resenting him for lying to you, his confession ruining your friendship.

Either way, someone will end up getting hurt.

“You really didn't have to come with me doctor.” You said stopping outside the door. Spencer shrugged his shoulders, his nose twitching simultaneously. “I wanted to. Plus sitting too long causes a number of health issues. Your leg muscles weaken. Your hip flexors shorten, and it can cause compression on the discs in your spine which can lead to premature degeneration, which results in chronic pain.”

You arched a brow. “So what you’re saying is that you’re really just looking out for yourself?”

“No, I-I, well...” He flustered and you couldn't help but chuckle. “We’ve been friends long enough for you to know when I’m just messing around.” Friends. The word stung. “Right. Sorry.” He glanced down at his shoes.

Sudden concern flooded through you. Gently, you placed a hand on the side of his face, and slowly lifted it back up. “Are you okay honey? You seem a little off, and I hope you don't mind me saying but it’s not just tonight.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Mind racing a million miles an hour. Of course you recognised his odd behaviour. He thought he did a good job at hiding his inner turmoil. Honestly, sometimes he forgets just how well you can read him. He forgets that you know him better than he knows himself.

“I hope you know you can talk to me.” You whispered, tenderly brushing loose strands of his hair away from his face.

The gleam in your eyes was so kindhearted. It was exactly that look that made Spencer think he truly didn't deserve you and that you were better off without him. It was also that look that made Spencer love you even more. The look that made him want to fight for you.

“Do ehm, do you think I could come in?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Of course.” You let your hand fall back to your side. “Of course you can.”

Soon enough the two of you were sat at the edge of your bed. A noticeably tense atmosphere filled the air. Your eyes were glued to the side of his head, wondering what the hell was going on in that big brain of his, while Spencer looked down at his hands. Which at this point were trembling uncontrollably.

It didn’t take you long to notice, you could practically feel them vibrating against your leg. You reached out, giving them a little squeeze before intertwining your fingers with his.

“What’s going on Spencer? You’re starting to scare me.”

The hazel-eyed man took a deep breath before finally meeting your gaze. His features broken, as if he was about to burst into tears.

“I’ve been lying to you Y/N.” He stated quietly.

You furrowed your brows confused, taken aback by his admission. “W-what? What are you talking about? You’re the most honest man I’ve ever met.” You expressed, but he shook his head. His light curls bouncing perfectly. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

“Spencer.” “Please Y/N, please just… I… I haven’t been honest with you and it’s eating me alive. Usually you would be the person I turn to for advice on these things, but since it involves you… I-I really don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You nodded your head slowly and swallowed your breath. “O-okay. Okay well, uhm… let me ask you this. If you don’t tell me, are you going to continue lying to me?” It was a weighted question which Spencer knew there was no right answer to. “Unfortunately.” He mumbled.

“Then I think, I think it is that simple.”

You were right. Every inch of him screamed you were right. Fuck. How the hell did it come to this? He had no trouble hiding his love for you these last few years.  He couldn’t understand why was it so difficult all of a sudden.

Abruptly, Spencer got to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. A deep frustrated sigh escaping his lips as he loosened his tie. Your uneasy gaze locked onto him, following his every move. And as he closed his eyes, cracking his neck, you suddenly remembered that the last time he seemed this frazzled was the day the two of you broke up. Your stomach dropped.

“Oh no.” You whispered standing up. “Ohh Spencer.”

He turned on his heel to look at you once again. Your fingers were pressed to your chin, mouth slightly parted. You couldn’t possibly have figured it out?

“You’re breaking up with me.” It seemed like a silly statement considering you weren’t a couple. “I mean, you’re ending our friendship. That’s what this is, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore and you’ve been lying to me by pretending that you do.” There were noticeable tears in your eyes.

“What? No, no, no. It’s completely the opposite of that.”

“I don’t think I understand. The opposite of-”

“I love you.”

“Well of course, I love you too. You’re my best friend. You’re family.”

“No.” He took a step towards you and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “I’m in love with you Y/N.”

You blinked. Eyelashes fluttering as the realisation of what Spencer just declared washed over you. He saw your lips quaver and your eyes widen. The dots connecting in your mind. All the moments you spent together, the conversations you shared. Everything was running through your mind like a homemade movie, making it impossible it collect your thoughts.

“I know I said I moved on, and that’s where I lied.” Spencer continued as you stared at him, unable to move. “I never moved on Y/N. I tried, believe me I tried. But you are a part of me, a part of my soul. You are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Seeing you, your smile. Hearing your laughter. Being able to talk to you, and just be around you. Your aura. Everything about you is so intoxicating and I messed up big time letting you go all those years ago.”

Tears began to trail down your cheeks as you bit down on your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Tiny salty droplets that Spencer slowly wiped away using his thumbs.

“I never said anything because I wanted to be there for you, first and foremost, in whatever way you needed me. I wanted to remain in your life after we broke up because your friendship means the world to me. I guess I thought-t, I hoped that maybe one day we’d get back together. And I know it’s unfair for me to lay all of this on you now, I know. And I’m sorry, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. You, I think you deserve to know.”

Quiet sobs filled the room. Your whole body was now shaking under his touch. Heart aching. It felt like you couldn't breathe.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to love you. All you ever wanted was for him to tell you that he made a mistake all those years ago and that the two of you belong together. 

“P-please say something.” His plea was barely a whisper.

All you ever wanted.

“I-I.. Spencer, I...”

You finally got all you ever wanted. The brunette doctor was standing in front of you professing his love, and yet it felt like he just stabbed you in the back. His declaration, those three cursed words you dreamt so long ago to hear come out of his lips again. It felt like the ultimate betrayal.

Don't know what to say to you now Standing right in front of you

-

A/N: FINALLY A LOVE CONFESSION ! honestly this chapter was a little hard for me to write... it took me a while to actually sit down to it and actually be happy with what i wrote idk BUT i hope you liked it and as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

masterlist | series masterlist | series playlist

story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no​, @calm-and-doctor​, @idroppedmygourd​​, @averyhotchner​

[yoditorian]

massive thank you to my followers for getting me to this milestone, and also to everyone who sent in fics!! while i can’t confess to having read all of these works (i’m getting there tho) each comment is from the person who submitted it 💛 i’ve decided to keep this up as a regular thing, hopefully to be able to traffic some more readers to lesser known writers too so keep an eye out for that link

these have been listed in the order i received them, multi chapter works have either the masterlist or first chapter linked, please pay attention to warnings on the individual works

@bee-dameron - kair’ta - din/reader - this is one of my own recs, the original holder of my din djarin loving heart, ellie knows what they’ve done to me.

@keeper0fthestars - would you let me - din/reader - again, a rec of mine, solely responsible for planting tattooed!din in my head. a concept which haunts me daily. 

@thosewickedlovelies - into the woods - frankie/reader - my beloved rachael took a middle of the night shitpost of mine and turned it into something truly beautiful, i can’t wait to see where it goes. 

@anxiety-riddled-mando - shereshoy - mando!oc/reader - the last of my suggested fics, lives rent free in my head and the only thing i will accept as canon. jon favreau who??

@firstofficerwiggles - caretaker - din/reader - It's my fic so this is a hard question to answer but I think the story's strengths are it's romance and the blend of other elements like humor and action.

@heatherbel - desideratum - din/reader - Gorgeous poetic romance with Din Djarin.

@jura-moon - chrysalis - din/reader - The most beautiful slow burn one shot you will ever read. Jura's writing is beyond special. Sweet, emotional, sexy gorgeousness in fic form. 

@wille-zarr - in fields of white - din/reader - I wrote it lolllll jshshdhs.

@papercinders​ - enigma - obi wan/reader - the description of everything!! im not gonna make sense but gosh the author hooks you with the first chapter and drags you along by the neck for the next four

@waatermelon-sugaar - want to kiss? - poe/reader - So sexy 🥵.

@michaelperry - amidst the to and fro - din/reader - It’s a rebel!Din Djarin AU fic that is such a cool what-if idea and is written so beautifully. Din’s characterization is perfect and the whole thing is super sweet and soft. It’s one of my favorite fics I’ve read recently (tbh everything I’ve read of hers so far is amazing).

@maharani-radha-writes - cultural differences - javier/reader - It’s wonderful to be able to experience a little bit of someone else’s culture! And Javi doing his best to accommodate and understand is great to see!

@pumpkin-stars - waiting - frankie/reader - this fic has everything, angst, absolutely staggering symbolism, talk of death, frankie morales and the origin of his iCONIC hat (need i say more) (yes I will), heartache, taking chances, more angst, acceptance, a love confession, a happy ending. This fic is written with such care and empathy it is easily one of my fave frankie fics <3.

@katlikeme - it’s all the same down in the capital - reader + clones - Kat knows my whole heart belongs to her because this fic and i get all weepy just thinking about it.

@fromthedeskoftheraven - visions of sugarplums - jack/reader - being snowed in with Jack Daniels and his endless list of sweet pet names for you. And the pining!  

@mourningbirds1 - the crossroads i’m standing at - javier/steve - Javier peña and steve murphy and all the yearning and pining possible <3.

@miceenscene - star-crossed - din/ofc - din djarin soulmate au that takes your breath away.

@filthybookworm - nothing more and nothing different - frankie/reader - the most beautiful character study of frankie morales and his love languages

@ladylothlorien - oberyn is our greatest post-punk novelist - oberyn/reader - beautifully written modern!oberyn.

@itssmashedavo - mary magdalene - javier/ofc - Incredible OC, excellent pacing and very good writing. 10/10 would recommend.

@corellianhounds - geroya - din + covert - The cutest slice of life Mando fic that I can’t stop thinking about. A lovely unique look at Din from the POV of the covert foundlings. 

@millllenniawrites - warmth - poe/reader - love how Poe is portrayed in all their fics, but this one especially as it's such a slow build, and I can really feel everything when I read it! Also sex pollen is one of my favourite tropes ngl.

@brandyllyn - doppelgänger - nathan/reader - Wow - everything. This fic is just- so perfect! I love how Nathan makes an AI of himself (and believes that everyone would fuck themselves, given the chance) - that is one os the most in-character things I've ever seen Nathan do in fic - it's just perfect! Also love how bad Nathan is in bed at first, and the ending is so hot. Love love love this fic, I reread it regularly.

@youvebeenlivingfictional - don’t treat my love like a habit - santiago/reader - I love reading this series because I love how the characters develop, and how their relationships change over time too. I love the imagery in this fic and its such a comfort read. (Also there needs to be an honourary mention of Magnetic too, by the same author as it has excellent slow-burn pacing).

@woakiees - mistakes and sour grapes - poe/reader - I love how, although its modern-day Poe, it also does a really good job of showing Poe's struggles as he tries to adapt to civilian life. I also really enjoy the slow build between the two of them and Finn's friendship with the reader (also it's made me desperate to try a chocolate cake shot lol). 

@woakiees - and you keep me holding on - santiago/reader - it made me cry so much!!! the emotion, the days counting, the pain of poor Santi, just everything its so good

@brandyllyn - to sell your love for peace - javier/reader - omg ok. the writing in this was so good, and the foreshadowing was excellent - the whole time, I had a sneaking suspicion of what was going to happen, but the clues were so expertly scattered in that I had just convinced myself I was wrong when... (AAAAHHHH I screamed you have no idea it was so good).

@writingletterstothefire - she loves me - santiago/reader - the suspense! I love knowing things that the characters dont and I cant wait to find out how they react! I really enjoy this authors writing too.

@witchyavenger - coffee - richard/reader - how sweet it is!! I just wanna give Richard some love too, he deserves the world, (and the moodpboard for this fic is so good also).

[iliveiloveiwrite]

What are some good book recommendations? I’ll be honest, I’ve never considered myself very much of a reader because I’ve never really found a genre that I’ve fallen in love with. But your taste in books is rather beautiful and makes me want to give it another chance

omg no-one has ever called my taste in books beautiful before, thank you 🥺 This is going to be an extensive list, I apologise in advance! I’ve provided a brief description of each book/series so you can go through and decide whether it would best suit you. The last thing I want to do is inadvertently trigger anyone.

Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Wicked by Jennifer L. Armentrout - A series of three books following the life of Ivy Morgan. Good fae, evil fae, secret orders and a love interest with dark hair and green eyes. 18+.

Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas - A series comprising of seven books and one book of novellas. This series follows the assassin Celeana Sardothien as she enters into a competition to become the King’s Champion. This series is violent, and has some distressing scenes as well as scenes of 17+.

Crave by Tracy Wolff - I like to think of this as Twilight if it took place in a boarding school in the middle of Alaska. For those that read Twilight in high school, or have recently read it, this book is a hit of nostalgia you didn't know you needed. It is so entertaining and the love interests are *chefs kiss*.

A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Clair - A series comprising of three books so far. A modern retelling of the famous Hades and Persephone myth. I adore this series. I seriously cannot tell you how much I love this series. The world building to the character development to my love of Hades by the end of it. It’s such a great read, I even waxed lyrical about it in one of my Fred Weasley fics. 18+ (scenes of mature nature).

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness - Like history? Like vampires, witches and demons? This series is for you. A trilogy following the love shared by Diana Bishop, a historian and witch, and Matthew Clairmont, scientist and vampire. This series is for mature readers - it doesn't hold back on violence as well as sex. However, if you choose to read, I promise you, you will enjoy. It is also a series on Sky with a second series being aired in January (in the UK anyway). 18+

Stalking Jack the Ripper by Kerri Maniscalco - A series of four books following the lives of Audrey-Rose Wadsworth and Thomas Cresswell. Set in Victorian London, the first book follows the Jack the Ripper investigation ending on a cliffhanger not even I saw coming. This does get maturer as you continue the series and there are some gruesome scenes throughout. 16+

From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout - What can I say about this series that I haven’t already cried about? I bought the first book in lockdown and devoured it. I bought the second book about a week after it was published and it has not left my mind since. World building? Astonishing. Character development? Stunning. Handsome love interest? You best believe it. This isn't YA Fantasy; this is NA and it is mature. There are scenes throughout both books that are violent as well as mature. 18+.

Heartless by Marissa Meyer - The origin story of the Queen of Hearts and with no better way to put it... it’s heartbreaking. This book had my heart soaring only for it to be crushed in the best way possible. An incredible read. There are some violent scenes but it’s YA so it’s at a minimum. 15/16+.

The Wicked Deep by Shea Earnshaw - I read this book in one day. I could not put it down, I loved it so much. This books follows three sisters set on a quest for revenge - and how love may be the only thing powerful enough to stop them. 16+.

Historical Fiction 

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - Patroclus, an awkward young prince has been exiled to the kingdom of Pthia where he meets Achilles. Follow them through their coming of age tale through the Battle of Troy. So I adore this book, I love this book. I could talk about it all day long. It’s fantastic - go read it. LGBT+, 17+.

Lovely War by Julia Berry - A multi-layered romance set in the perilous days of World War One and Two, where Gods hold the fates - and hearts - of mortals in their hands. Oh... my... word... this book left me speechless. It left me speechless. I couldn’t not finish in the day that it arrived on my doorstep; it’s prose is poetic, it’s romance is dreamy and I just found myself tearing up at the words on the page. 17+

The Disappearances by Emily Bain Murphy - Every seven years something goes missing from the town of Sterling: people’s reflections, the stars in the sky, the ability to dream. Aila realises her mother may have something to do with such a curse. Again, I read this in a day. I couldn’t put it down. It’s set through WW2 and I just think the plot is genius. 15+.

Prose that makes me want to cry

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern - I read this for the first time back in 2014 and have read it so often since that I have had to buy a second copy so I don’t ruin the pages of my first. I LOVE THIS BOOK. It follows the creation of a circus that only opens from night until dawn and how this circus weaves itself into the lives of its workers/owners. An absolute masterpiece. 16+.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab - This book has been one of my most anticipated releases of 2020, and it has not disappointed. When Addie LaRue makes a pact with the devil, she trades her soul for immortality and the curse of no-one remembering who she ever was. Until one day, somebody does. Every part of this book, I savoured, I made myself read it slowly for the fact that I didn't want to miss a thing. Utterly breathtaking. 18+.

We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson - Anything by Jackson deserves to be on this list. It drags you in and keeps you there. Why do you think they made a Netflix series of her work? 16+.

The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter - This is a collection of short stories that are dark retellings of classic fairytales. It is so utterly fantastic. 18+.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid - Definitely in my top 10 reads of 2020. A former Hollywood starlette tells her life story to a reporter; every seedy detail of her life including that of her seven husbands. I was hooked from the first page. 18+.

18+ (This section can be ignored if this genre of books is not your thing).

A Lesson in Thorns by Sierra Simone - When librarian Poe Markham takes the job at Thornchapel, she has only two aims. One - to stay away from Thornchapel’s owner, Auden Guest. And Two, to find out what happened to her mother twelve years ago. This is a series comprising of three books so far with the fourth published at the end of this week. This series covers a lot of dark themes as well as mature content. 

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas - I have only involved this series here for the fact that it does have a lot of smut involved. Not as much as other books, but a lot more than your typical YA. However, these books are gold and so far this year, I’ve read the whole series about six times. I love them, go read them. 

A Touch of Darkness by Scarlett St. Clair - I mentioned this series earlier but it does have a lot of smut.

Pestilence by Laura Thalassa - The first in the Four Horsemen series. This has a lot of violence and a lot of smut. However, the overall plot is so interesting as well as badass female characters that bring so much energy to the plot. 

The Bargainer series by Laura Thalassa - If you’ve read ACOTAR, then this series is the perfect hangover cure. A love interest to swoon for and a plot to only keep you interested.

Authors I buy every book of

Cassandra Clare

Sarah J. Maas

Jennifer L. Armentrout

Scarlett St. Clair

Deborah Harkness

Kerri Maniscalco

[tsukidrama]

hello! guess who has a new laptop! 😁

i haven’t much to say unfortunately because not much happened since last time but i’m really happy to talk to you again.

about our last “ask” ; i understand why you love nandor! he wasn’t my favourite at first but he’s starting to grow on me. but i think my favourite is guillermo! which is funny i think because i keep seeing posts (like this one) about how guillermo attracks lesbians akjhkdjfh.

YYYYYAAAAAAAAAAYYYY J !! I MISSED YOU

i'm happy to talk to you, too!! it's so good to hear from you. i was so happy last night when i got your message.

pggpppffft i really truly love all of the character in wwdits, they're all hilarious. the only one who is NOT my favorite is colin robinson but he still makes me laugh. AAAAAAA kjbsaljdbdsjk that's very true, i know at least 3-4 lesbians who look exactly like that. he is such an unhinged psycho but also my precious baby meow meow AND I LOVE HIS RELATIONSHIP W NANDOR - have you seen s2 e4 The Curse yet? my favorite episode

about trnt next chapters, it’s going to be a bit cheesy (?) but there’s no way i could hate you after a chapter, even if it’s the worse chapter ever or like… you kill off annie or something (which i doubt could happen but it’s to use an example). of course i love the fic for the story and its quality but you could write a 10 lines chapter of annie counting her cats and i’ll still come in your inbox telling you my detailed opinion on it LMAO

and about crime and punishment don’t worry! i’ve been trying to find new things to watch and read since lately i’ve been stuck in an anime/comedy shows circle, and it’s frustrating not being able to do new things you know what i mean? even if it’s kind of dumb since it’s just entertainment.

ALASHDGKHLWK THAT'S SO SWEET! i would... never ever kill her off, i'd kill myself first. but i get the sentiment behind what you're saying heh, and i appreciate the loyalty 😯 imagine if i wrote a chapter that's literally just about the cats asdfghjkl; i'd be interested in the commentary & you'd probably still make me feel special.

i feel that about wanting new things to watch, i really truly do. i'm bored with the shows i've been watching lately and idk how to break out of it. i don't think it's dumb. i did 10 minutes of digging and i found what seems like a viable link to watch the version of C&P i've been talking about which is probably the least i can do with all the talking i've done about it? enjoy laskjcahskdjvn i'm so sorry it's like 3 hours long no pressure and like take your time fam

lastly i’ve seen the map you’ve made for the cottage and i’m so surprised because it’s exactly how i imagined it??? meaning your descriptions in the fics were really well done. but it’s still so nice to see it exactly how it should be, it must have been a lot of work. we love a dedicated writer 🙏

omg really?! that's actually pretty surprising but i will take the compliment! eee thanks as always you are so kind. yes it was a lot of work but it was over a long period of time and the end result was worth it in the long run ♡

saying this a bit late but i hope you have a nice weekend! and that work has been a bit better.

j (who now uses they/them pronouns now btw ☺️)

good to know, and congrats on figuring yourself out! and again it's so nice to hear from you!

i had a pretty good and relaxing weekend but the christmas party at my job got canceled (idk why even! wtf) so i'm a little bummed, but i'll just go somewhere with the wife when she's home from work instead so, all good. writing has been going very well for the last few days!

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: One Small Hitch

READ PART 1

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

summery: You and Ben have your first official date and settle into your "relationship". But, with filming coming to a close, you'll need to be more committed to the act than before, especially when Ben's keeping secrets.

Warnings: Again, nothing much. Some language. Drinking. Nothing else I can think of.

Words: 8355

AN: Chapter 2 is finally here! Sorry for the delay but hopefully the next part will be up faster. I'm really really enjoying writing this series and I am so very excited about what's coming! The song mentioned is Reckless Serenade by Arctic Monkeys. Sidenote: Can anyone work out the theme of the chapter titles?

Taglist:  @laedymoon​  @dtfrogertaylor​  @vee-ndetta​​ @atomic-watermelon​ @kellypenac​​ @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​  @hannafuckingsucks​​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @supersonicfreddie​

“I’ve got something for you,” you half shouted at Ben when you saw him walking towards you from across the field you were filming in. You shuffled your shitty takeaway coffee into your other hand so you could reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper folded in half. He took it and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.  “Funny cause I have something for you too,” Ben said as he let you go, reaching into his backpack and handing you a magazine, “Oh, shit, it’s our rules. You want page 15 by the way.”  “Figured you’d want a record of them. What exactly am I looking f-” you let the word hang as you found the right page. It was decorated with a photo of you and Ben kissing on his doorstep, his hand around your back, the shirt you’d borrowed riding up just enough that it was clear you didn’t have shorts on underneath as you clutched at him. There was some text beside it, mentions of your most notable roles and his, a brief description of the movie you were in the process of making, and some speculatory remarks with a couple of innuendos thrown in. The usual gossip mag fare. On the other side of the paragraph was another photo, both of you leaving set the previous Friday, hand in hand and smiling.  “We look pretty good together,” you laughed, getting only a noncommittal grunt in return. He’d suddenly become very interested in the sheet you’d handed him, staring at it like he hadn’t been there when it was written. You reread the brief article, trying not to gawk at the photographs. It certainly looked believable.   “I’ve had about four people wish us well this morning,” Ben suddenly said, seemingly pulling himself together, folding up the rules and shoving them into his back pocket, “and I’ve not been here long. It’s kinda weird having everyone know we’re together. Or think we’re together,” he quickly corrected himself.  “Yeah, Mel kept asking me questions about it while she was doing my makeup this morning, so I hope she took my awkwardness as me wanting to keep things private and not me not knowing how to answer some of them.”  Ben chuckled, “yeah, Gail gave me a bit of a grilling too. I just told her we’d been sort of seeing each other for a few weeks and had only just like made it official or whatever and she seemed to buy it.”  “Good, I told Mel the same sort of thing. Hopefully that’s enough for them.”  “I’m more concerned with what my friends are going to say. I don’t think any of them read Heat though so hopefully it doesn’t come up any time soon,”  “Lucky. My friend Felicity has the dumb site bookmarked. Checks it religiously. Bloody miracle she hasn’t called yet.”  “Better turn of your phone then,”  “And come back to a full voicemail and about a hundred texts demanding to know why I’m ghosting her?”  “Tell her you were filming. I do it all the time,” he was grinning at you and you couldn’t help but grin back as you pulled your phone out and shut it off, “atta girl,” he pulled you into his side and gave you an affectionate squeeze that you leaned into , fully aware of how many people were around you, potentially watching. It was a feeling that didn’t really let up. You knew, rationally, that everyone there was focused on their jobs, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were constantly being scrutinised, and not just for your acting. It didn’t help when Seth had to stop recording to fix a problem with the boom mic and, good-humouredly, said, “don’t worry lovebirds, we’ll have her running in a second.” Or that one of the ADs delivered your call sheets for the next day with a, “I always thought you’d be cute together.” And it certainly didn’t help when you turned your phone on at the end of the day to find a series of texts from Felicity each with more exclamation points and capital letters than the last, and a missed call from Mary.   “Better call her back,” Ben said, following you towards the carpark.  You rolled your eyes, already holding the phone up to your ear listening to it ring.  “Y/N, I was just about to try you again,”  “Sorry, Mary, I had my phone off while we were recording, what’s the matter?”  “Are you free this weekend?”  “Um yeah, I think so, why?”  “We’d like for you and Ben to go on a date this weekend. Somewhere in London preferably but it’s up to you. You saw the article in Heat? It seems to be going well. The hits your names have got on google have increased and there have been a few tweets about it. Nothing huge, you’re not trending or anything but you’re still relatively unknown so we weren’t expecting that to happen, certainly not overnight. But we think if we get a date story out quickly it’ll really help get people interested.”  You rubbed your temple as you tried to process everything she’d just said, “Okay, I’ll talk to him and we’ll organise something. I’ll text you the details once I have them.”  “Okay, let me know as soon as you can though. And send Peter the info too.”  “Will do. See ya Mary.”  “Was that about me?” Ben asked, smiling as he leaned against your car.  “You up for a date this weekend? Apparently the first story went well and they want a follow up ASAP.”  “Sure, where are we going?”  “I don’t know, somewhere around London would apparently be best, but we get to choose. Any thoughts?”  He thought for a moment, “This isn’t our first date is it? Like, we’ve said we’ve been on others before, right?”  “Yeah, why?”  “Well normally for a first date I take girls out for dinner and then, depending on the girl and how the dinner went, either a quiet drink or like a romantic as fuck walk in the park or something.”  “That’s pretty standard stuff, Ben,”  “Yeah, but in the fiction of us as a couple, this isn’t our first date. This’d be, what?”  “Fifth maybe?”  “Fifth. So I’m still trying to impress you a bit, but it’s like, more relaxed. We’ve done the dinner date, we’ve done coffee and a movie, we’ve even done the Museum. Now we’re getting into the fun shit.”  “Museums don’t count as fun shit?” you chuckled, not sure where his train of thought was taking you.  “It’s a bit overdone is all.”  “What do you have in mind then?”  “There’s this place that runs art classes during the day, right? Life drawing or like painting for beginner's type stuff. But a couple of nights a week they run these art and wine nights. They’ll give you a canvas or a ceramic figure or something like that and some paints and you can have a few drinks and do something arty. I did it with some mates a while ago, had heaps of fun. Seemed like the sort of thing yo- a girl might like to do on a date.”  “That definitely sound fun.”  “Really? You’re into it?”  “Yeah, for sure.”  “Okay,” Ben pulled out his phone and began typing, “shall I book us in for the Saturday night ceramics session?”  “Go ahead. What time was that, so I can let Mary and Peter know.”  “Seven thirty. If we get a cab in a little earlier we can grab something to eat on our way.”  “Cool, okay I’ll text them. Is it BYO?”  “Yeah. They do sell some stuff but it’s a pretty small selection.”  “Okay, well that’s something to look forward to. Anyway, I should be going since I have about a million texts to sort through, I’ll see you tomorrow.”  “Wait, one thing,” Ben said before you could open your car door, “There’s a few people coming off set now so I’m going to kiss you, okay?”  “Thanks for the heads up,”  “No worries,” he stepped closer, his hand rising to cup your cheek as he kissed you softly. He took longer to break away than you’d expected, letting the kiss deepen instead, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a good kiss. And if it hadn’t been for Ben and the movie, you would have been severely lacking them recently. Which explained the vague feeling of disappointment that hit you when he did step back.  

On your way home your phone beeped with another text from Felicity but you ignored it until you were inside and changed into the comfiest clothes you could find, flopping down on your bed to scroll through what she’d written. They varied from, “omg why didn’t you tell me about this Ben guy?” to “Y/N!!! Answer my texts!!!” all the way up to, “BITCH!!! CALL ME!!!!”   She picked up on the first ring.   “Where the fuck have you been all day?”  “Some of us don’t have office jobs we hate,” you laughed, “I actually had to work, funnily enough, and because we were on location I had to keep my phone off while we recorded.”  “Well I’ve been going crazy over here. Imagine my shock when I boot up my computer and open Heat and see your fucking arse being grabbed by your co-star.”  “He was not grabbing my arse.”  “Close enough. You didn’t tell me how fucking gorgeous he is.”  “No, well, I don’t usually think about the people I work with like that, do I?”  “Which is why I was so surprised to see you’ve shacked up with one of them.”  “It’s not quite that serious.”  “One night stands aren’t your usual thing. Definitely not with guys you work with anyway.”  “I never said it was a one night stand, just that it wasn’t super serious!”  “How many times then?”  “We’ve been on like four dates.”  “You fuckhead! You mean to tell me you’re actually dating this guy, who by the way looks like he could be a fucking underwear model, and you didn’t think to tell me? No so much as a I got dicked down by a total babe aren’t you jealous message?”  “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.”  “But still, I’m your best friend, I tell you about every shag I have.”  “In graphic detail,”  “Exactly.”  “Look it’s just a bit weird still. Neither of us have really hooked up with a co-star before and we didn’t want to say anything until we worked out what was happening.”  “I guess that makes sense,” you could tell she didn’t mean it, “But, now that it’s out you owe me. I want to hear all about it.”  “There’s not much to tell. We became quite good friends during all the pre-production stuff when we were rehearsing and all that. Our director wanted to make sure we clicked and had the right chemistry and stuff, since it’s a romcom and our characters get engaged in the first scene, so we hung out a lot. And then just before filming started he asked me out. Took me to this nice Chinese restaurant. It was fun so we agreed to go out again and it’s sort of just kept going.”  “Those photos, was that the first time you’d stayed over at his?”  “Second. First time was a couple of weeks ago. The night that led to the photos was just a few drinks after work with some of the others and we ended up ducking out a bit early and wound up at his.”  “And?”   “And what?” You had a hard time not laughing when you heard her groan. Her eagerness to know every sordid detail made her easy to fuck with, and that made the whole business of being secretive a lot more fun.  “And, how was he?”  “I mean…y’know,”  “Y/N, I swear to god,”  “He was good, okay? Really good,” you remembered what Ben had told you to say, trying not to laugh too much while you repeated it, “like, three orgasms good.”  “Shit, really?”  “Uhuh. And then another in the morning.”  Felicity replied with a long whistle, “shit, girl, hold onto that one then. That’s definitely worth any trouble working together could cause."  “Believe me, I know. We’re going out again this weekend.” It was surprisingly easy to lie about dating Ben. Though, of course, you weren’t technically lying since you would be going on a date.   “Shit man, date five. That’s serious shit. You better tell me everything, in graphic detail.” 

When you told Ben about the conversation the next day, admitting you’d spent ages praising his sexual prowess, he laughed and then thanked you, pulling you into a tight bear hug. You thought it was a slight overreaction considering he’d been the one to tell you what to say but his happiness was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than normal as you hung out between scenes. An attitude which could only help your performance, making people more ready to believe you were a couple. His easy laughter and bright smiles continued until the afternoon when you were telling him more about Felicity and what you’d talked about.   “She thinks you’re a keeper and kept telling me not to let you go.”  “Your friend knows what she’s talking about.”  “Lucky for you I can’t let you go since it’s all written up in a contract,”  Ben laughed but when you glanced at him his smile seemed to falter.   “You okay?”  “Brilliant. Just had a bit of a late night and it’s catching up on me. Think I might try to have a quick nap before we’re needed again.”  “I was thinking of grabbing another coffee if you want one?”  “Thanks Y/N but I think the nap will do me more good.”  “Probably better people don’t see us heading off to a trailer together anyway or they’ll suspect we’re getting up to mischief.”  “Very true. I’ll see you a bit later.”  “Sleep well!”  Ben turned to leave, his smile seeming more forced than earlier. You would have worried except he seemed to be back to normal when he was called for your next scene. And it continued on through the week, his happiness only getting more pronounced the closer it got to the weekend.  

You couldn’t quite match his energy on Friday, anxiety over your date getting stronger the closer you got to it. Hanging out at his place had been easy, even if it did include leaving half dressed. All you’d had to do was kiss him which you’d done enough times during filming that it was no longer too odd. But a proper date was something else. It was going to be the first real test you faced, the first time you’d really have to sell yourselves to the public as more than co-stars and more than a hook-up.  “Hey are you okay?”  “Huh?”  “Your jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?”  “Oh,” you forced your leg to stop moving, “nothing,”  “Is it about our date tonight?”  “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?”  “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” he muttered.  “What?”  “I’ve been worried about it too,” he said louder, “but I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?”  “Yeah I was,” you said sheepishly, “but -”  “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake. We go and have a good time painting a couple of plates or bowls or whatever, and then hold hands while we head home. They’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple.”  “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,”  “It’s okay,” he reached out to rub the back of your hand, smiling softly at you, “the nerves might actually help you look like you’re legit. And worst comes to worst we can always run lines. I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.”  “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?”  “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?”  “Theres like six, Ben,”  “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,”  You giggled and shook your head, “You’re unbelievable,”  “Oh whatever,” he pushed your shoulder almost making you overbalance, “Just cos you know the lines already.” 

Ben’s efforts to calm you down worked and you got through the rest of the workday without a hitch. Though your stomach was once again tight with nerves in the hours before the date. You spent a solid half hour standing in front of your wardrobe, freshly washed hair slowly dripping down the back of the towel you had wrapped around you, trying to settle on what to wear. When you were finally dressed you checked and rechecked the contents of your purse, and, in a moment of panic, you grabbed the heavily highlighted and notated script pages with the matchmaker scene and shoved them in beside your lipstick and bank card. By the time Ben arrived in an Uber to pick you up, ushering you into the backseat with a kiss on the cheek and a complement about how lovely you looked, you felt like you were on the verge of throwing up. But, once again, Ben’s natural charm eased your mind. The way he talked to you and smiled constantly had your heart rate slowing and your stomach settling within minutes. Even the way he squeezed your hand when he helped you out of the car, and the way he laced his fingers with yours as he led you towards your destination were welcome comforts.  “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” Ben asked, stopping on a corner and looking around, annoyed people passing by on both sides.  “Uhh, s’pose so.”  “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?”  “I swear I’m not normally.”  “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” he asked, playfully.  “No, you git,” you laughed back, though you found it hard to meet his eyes, “I just don’t know I’m that hungry.”  “Well, keep in mind there’ll be wine drinking. Don’t want to do that on an empty stomach.”  “Valid argument. What’s nearby?”  After some wandering you ended up in a McDonalds, Ben wolfing down a burger while you picked at the fries, not quite certain you’d be able to keep your food down. It was when you were coming out of a bottle shop, Ben holding the wine you’d agreed on, that you spotted the photographer. It was the same one who’d been outside Ben’s house when you stayed over, camera aimed at the two of you. Quietly you nudged Ben. He just wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked. You struggled to not watch the photographer as he followed you towards the art studio, having to keep reminding yourself to pretend he wasn’t there.  “Relax,” Ben said softly in your ear, “He’s not important.”  You nodded, afraid if you said anything you’d lose the meagre dinner you’d had. Ben’s thumb rubbing over your own gave you something else to focus on, counting each soft, smooth stroke, until you reached the right place.  

You weren’t the only couple there, far from it. Most of the claimed tables were taken by pairs sitting close together, hands clasped or laying on thighs as they talked. A few tables held larger groups, double dates maybe or perhaps just friends. You felt a few eyes on you as you found a table close to the clear glass of the shopfront, but they turned away again quickly, more interested in their own little bubbles than yours. You glanced outside to check if the photographer was still there but couldn’t see much more than the reflection of you and Ben. His knee bumped yours under the table as he leaned toward you, pressing a finger to your jaw to turn your head towards him.  “Forget the photographer. Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We're just two friends having a fun night out, okay?”  “Okay,”   “Okay. So what are you thinking of painting then?” He unscrewed the bottle of wine and grabbed one of the glasses you’d been handed on arrival.   “Well what are my options?”  “Well there’s your classic teacup, mug or plate options. There’s a couple of different jewellery boxes, I think. And then there are the statues, ummm, fairy, dragon, alien. Maybe a princess one, I can’t remember.”  “More than I thought there’d be. What were you thinking?”  “I did a dragon last time I was here. But I think I’m going to do a mug this time. Need some extras if you’re gonna be staying over more often.”  “Maybe we should both do mugs, then? Something we can use at each other’s places.”  “Alright, deal. But we can’t look at what the other is painting until they’re done.”  “That’s going to be so hard!” you laughed, feeling properly relaxed for the first time all night.  “Yeah but it’ll be fun though. Wait here, I’ll go grab us the mugs.”  You took the opportunity to look around the room, trying to think of what Ben might like on a mug. There was art everywhere – paintings hanging on walls, examples of what the classes could teach you, decorated ceramics lining windowsills and shelves. Judging by the wildly differing levels of talent displayed, you assumed at least some of them were left behind and never claimed. There were plates decorated with fruit trees and ocean scenes, jugs covered in splatters of different colours, aliens in shimmery blue and princesses with green hair and orange dresses. But nothing that sparked your imagination. The noise of the room was steadily growing as everyone got stuck into their creations. Ben sat down, took a drink and got to work mixing colours.  “You know what you’re going to do then?”  “I have an idea. But I will warn you I’m not a particularly good artist so it might not look anything like what it’s meant to.”  You picked up your blank mug and put it down again, tapping the end of a paintbrush against the table as you tried to come up with an idea. What did Ben like? He liked coffee. And dogs. And his guitar. More than once he’d brought it to set, playing it in his downtime. He’d been embarrassed the first time you mentioned overhearing him as you passed by his trailer, but you’d assured him you’d liked listening to him. You’d had the song stuck in your head for a week afterwards.   “Made up your mind, have you?” Ben asked, glancing up from his handiwork as you mixed a pale peach colour.  “No peeking,”  “I wasn’t peeking. If I’d been peeking, I would have done this,” Ben craned his neck, leaning over to where your mug was.   You laughed and pulled the mug closer to you, pushing him away with your other hand.  He caught it in his own, taking the paintbrush from you, “Oi, careful with that.”  “Oops, sorry,”  Ben laughed and kissed your palm before letting you have your hand back, “No harm done. But y’know if you splattered me I’d have no choice but to get payback.”  There was no need to reach for the script you’d brought as you and Ben fell into conversation while you painted. He asked if you’d had any more awkward phone calls with your friends and told you about what had happened when his mates had found out. Nothing like the conversation you’d endured, though there’d been plenty of teasing. You had to admonish him for nearly getting paint on your work when he began using the largest brush he had to artistically spray drops of paint over his mug. And then he’d laughed when you paused, admitting out loud that you weren’t actually sure how to paint the thing you’d planned on painting. He’d promised not to peek while you whipped out your phone to look up a reference image, going to far as to cover his eyes just to make sure. Once you gave him the okay he went back to painting, switching to a thinner brush and shushing you so he could concentrate. It was ridiculous how cute he looked, tongue between his teeth, bent over the mug as he slowly outlined the design. You shook your head to clear the thought and went back to your own work. 

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna see now?”  “Yes, absolutely. Unless you think we should wait until after they’ve been glazed?”  “Fuck that, we can’t pick them up for a couple of days, I wanna show you now.”  “Alright, show me then,” you put down your brush, focusing all your attention onto the mug in Ben’s hands. The base coat was a light purple, with splatters of darker purple over top. Slowly he turned the mug to show you the design on the front. It bore a slightly wonky engagement ring, similar to the one his character gave yours in the movie. On either side of the ring, in thin, not quite straight lettering, was the words we’re really good at this dating thing.   You smiled as soon as you read the quote from the script, “I love it, Ben”  “Thought it was kind of fitting,” he chuckled, “plus it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.”  “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had.”  Ben smiled and carefully turned his mug back towards him, “Best proposal I’ve ever given,” He seemed to be about to say something but stopped himself, shaking his head.  You lowered your voice, “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?”  “Promise,” Ben said, matching your level and leaning in close, “Until then maybe you can use it as a reminder whenever you feel anxious about this whole dating thing.”  “Thanks, I will.”   You were suddenly very aware of how softly you were speaking, how close you were sitting, leaning in to hear each other over the rest of the room, and for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you again. But then the moment passed, the noise of the room intruding as Ben leaned back in his seat, “So do I get to see mine?”  “Uh, it’s not quite done,” you said, picking up your brush again, the moment gone, “give me another couple of minutes.”  “Masterpieces take time, I get it,”  “This is by no stretch a masterpiece,”  “I’ll be the judge of that thanks very much,”  Ben turned to look out over the room while you tried to finish your painting without smudging anything, occasionally making comments about other people there or the art that decorated the room.  You took one last look at what you’d painted, the guitar with the words stun gun lullaby written in cursive beside it, “Alright, I’m done now, you can look. Careful, some of it’s still wet.”  Ben gently took hold of the handle and turned the mug so the design faced him. He broke out into a grin and you felt relieved that he liked it.   “It’s definitely a masterpiece. For someone who didn’t know how to draw a guitar you’ve done an incredible job. And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?”  “Is it? It's just the song I overheard you playing that one time. I thought that line was a good one for a mug. Nice and short so I didn’t have to paint too much.”  “This is definitely my new favourite mug.”  “Oh stop it.”  “And hey, they kind of match.”  You laughed when he pointed out the similarities, “Guess they do. Y’know that’d make a pretty cute Instagram post.”  “You going to tag me as my mug?”  “Of course. You could post a photo and tag me in it too,”  “I don’t know. I don’t really post much personal stuff online.”  “Well at least comment on mine,”  “I can do that.”  

After you’d taken a decent photo and posted it online you cleaned up, handed your mugs over to the woman running the night’s activity and stepped back out into the night. There was no sign of the photographer anywhere and you supposed he’d got what he needed and then left.   Still, Ben grabbed your hand as you walked back up the street, just in case you’d missed the photographer in the crowd.   “Guess that means we don’t have to worry about going home together,” you said, nudging Ben.  “Guess not,” his lips quirked down in a soft frown.”  “What is it?”  “Nothing, nothing, just...feels kind of weird to just end the date here, I guess,” he scratched the back of his head and laughed, “Normally I’d offer to give you a lift home. Or at least give you a good night kiss, but I guess that’s not really needed now.”  “Well, it’s like you said, we’re just friends having a fun night out. We could share a ride home though, if you wanted. You live near enough to mine it wouldn’t matter.”  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually might go grab something to eat, don’t think that burger was quite enough. See you on Monday?”  “Oh, yeah, okay, see you Monday.”   There was a pause, both of you hesitating and then Ben gave you a much too quick hug before he walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You sighed and hailed a passing cab, spending the whole ride home wondering what the hell had just happened. But you pushed it from your mind once you were home, going through your usual nightly routine and very deliberately thinking of anything other than Ben. It didn’t help much. You still dreamt about him. Dreamt about the goodnight kiss you’d missed out on.    

When you woke you had to laugh at yourself. You were sure that, had you binged a few episodes of a tv show or read something before you’d gone to bed you would have dreamt about it instead. Brains were suggestable like that. When you felt awake enough you rolled over and grabbed your phone finding a text from Ben and one from Felicity and an email from Mary. You opened Mary’s first, skimming over it and vowing to look at it properly once you had a coffee in your system. Ben’s was much easier to understand, a short message to say he had fun last night and that he’d pick the mugs up on his way to work on Monday. Felicity’s was just a series of question marks. You sent back a short response saying the date had been a lot of fun. It wasn’t enough and she was bound to come back at you asking for more details, but it would have to satisfy her. Slowly you got out of bed and made yourself a coffee, setting your laptop up next to you at the kitchen counter so you could try to read Mary’s email again. There was some information about some scripts she was going to send you, a couple of potential future roles, but the majority of the email was about you and Ben. She’d already seen the photos, apparently, and some of them would be run in the coming week’s magazine while others were being put online. She’d also seen the Instagram post and commended you for thinking of it. Another date would have to be organised, but it was better to wait until the next weekend or even the one after, so as not to fatigue the public.  

So you and Ben fell into the routine of it. An email from one or other of your agents sometimes as vague as just telling you to organise a date, sometimes much more specific in what they wanted you to be doing, then the date itself, and in between work where you played up the romance as much as possible. You got good at pretending to stay over at each other's places, often just hanging out watching TV or running lines until the photographer called it a night and you were free to leave. Once or twice you’d opted to sleep in your own bed but get up early and head over to Ben’s for the required morning after shots but that process got old very quickly so you ended up actually staying over more and more. There was one day when your period came unexpectedly while you were at Ben’s. You were halfway through asking him to take you home when he offered to run to the store for you instead.  “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that, I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today.”  “Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” When you still weren’t convinced he continued, “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.”  “Oh alright, as long as you don’t mind.”  He was out the door a second later and back within ten minutes, though you did get a call from him at the shop, asking what brand you preferred. Once he was home, he made you a cup of tea, gave you a painkiller and, after checking you didn’t mind, cuddled up with you on the couch, teasingly calling you his cuddle bunny as he pulled you back against his chest. You almost complained, almost cited Rule 5, but it wasn’t so bad. Some might even go so far as to call it cute. It was better than snookum at any rate.  

 The dates themselves got easier after the first. You knew what to expect now so it wasn’t as nerve wracking as before. And Ben was always fun to be around, your list of inside jokes steadily growing as he became the one person you spent the most time with. You let yourselves relax a bit. On your third date Ben’s arm stayed glued around your waist as you walked around the zoo, only losing contact when a lemur jumped on his shoulder and you stepped back to take a photo. It wasn’t low enough to violate the rules you’d put in place but his hand was dangerously close to falling below your belt, and it was definitely something you would have put a stop to when you first started the charade. The Instagram posts had got more frequent too, though Ben still refused to post anything to his own profile. But he commented on everything you posted whether it involved him or not. And people were buying it. You’d been moved from page 15 to page 13 and then to page 10 in the magazines. You both picked up more followers online as your photos were shared across Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr. There were some downsides like rude comments and nasty messages but mostly they were easy to ignore. Worse were the phone calls and messages from family members and friends asking when they’d get to meet Ben. He’d had to fend off his own family as well, but you both stuck to Rule 4, making up excuses and promising it would happen eventually, but it just wasn’t possible right now. But your biggest problem was the issue of intimacy. It wasn’t the lack of sex itself, that was easily managed. It was that Ben had started to intrude on your fantasies. You’d be there with your fingers or your toys and suddenly it was Ben’s voice you were thinking of, Ben’s hands, Ben’s teeth and tongue and chest. Ben’s name falling from your lips. And you knew it was just because you were pretending to date him, on and off set. It was the dumb suggestable brain thing again. The thoughts were only there because you were pretending to be in love with him and usually sex was tied up with love or at least relationships. And really, you hadn’t been attracted to anyone much lately because you hadn’t been looking because you’d been pretending to be attracted to Ben so it’s really no wonder you’re brain got all confused and mixed him into those other thoughts. The first time you saw him after it first happened you wondered if he could tell, a slightly flustered awkwardness hanging over you. But it wasn’t worth mentioning to anyone. You just vowed to push him out of your mind as much as you could.  

Nearly two months later you found yourselves back in the office where the idea of pretending to date was first floated. With filming drawing to a close Mary and Peter were keen to check in with you. The first thing either of them said when you and Ben turned up is how well the story was going.  “Projections have the sales for this movie increased by five percent, just because of your relationship and that number is expected to grow as we get closer to release,” Mary spoke fast though whether that was excitement at the boosted numbers or just a busy schedule rushing her along you weren’t sure.  “What happens now?” Ben asked, “I mean, since we won’t be filming together anymore after this week,”  “That’s exactly why we wanted to talk with you both today,” Peter opened a pocket notebook and thumbed through a couple of pages, “so not much will change but we may occasionally need to balance out the loss of on set photos with shots of you out and about together. Nothing stressful and all very easily staged. You probably wouldn’t even need to be out for more than an hour or so at a time. People have been loving the domestic sort of photos you’ve been putting online, Y/N, that one of you using the coffee mugs you painted was especially good. So we’d like a few more of those sorts of moments. The two of you grocery shopping or walking a dog, do either of you have a dog? No? Hmmm, we could hire a dog and write a story about you sitting for a friend. We’ll put a pin in that for now. But yes, just some candid shots of you walking around London and doing regular everyday things together.”  “We’ll also need to schedule the argument soon. We’re thinking somewhere within the first two weeks of filming being over. It means we can run speculation about whether the relationship is on the rocks now that you aren’t working together anymore. We’ll see how things go this week and make some decisions later, but we’ll give you plenty of warning before you have to perform it. Obviously, it has to be scheduled so we can guarantee someone will get photos but we need it to seem as natual as possible so we’ll leave the specifics of the argument up to you.”  You nodded along but Ben had more questions.  “What does this mean for any jobs we might be looking at taking after this movie wraps?”  “You can still take on whatever roles you want provided they’re filming here. It’s harder to keep you in the public eye if you’re separated and while the drama of a long-distance relationship might be interesting at first, it’s not sustainable.”  “If it was filming somewhere else in the UK we could maybe organise something. We’d have to look into it and see if it was possible to stick to our same plan but just shift the location. Maybe have a weekend visit angle to it, Y/N flies out to see Ben, Ben comes home to see Y/N, that kind of thing.”  “Leave it with us Ben and we’ll get back to you on the logistics of it all.”  “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t have anything set in stone, I was just curious.”  “Is there anything else you have questions about?”  “No, I don’t think so,” He looked towards you.  “No, I’m all good.”  “Okay, well, if you think of anything you can message us any time.”  “Really, though, this is going very well. It’s already paying off but we need to keep the momentum during the post-production phase, so we need you both to be committed to this.”  “We are.”  “Unbelievably committed,” Ben added. 

You and Ben left the meeting joking about potential arguments you could have and for the rest of the day, whenever you passed each other in the halls or had a moment alone you’d try to one up each other's suggestions. It was a good way to keep your spirits up even though the end of filming was fast approaching. One by one each cast member recorded their last scenes, saying an emotional thank you to the crew when the director called cut. You and Ben were the last to finish since you were the leads. A small pillow talk scene that you could do in your sleep. It was a nice way to end it, lying in bed with Ben’s arms around you, even with the heat of the studio lights. While you were waiting for the cameras to be positioned you and Ben joked around with the crew that were flitting around angling mics and adjusting set decorations.   “Hey, Seth,” Ben said suddenly, “can you pass me my phone. I think we need to document this moment. What d’you say, cuddle bunny?”  You laughed and poked him in the side but agreed. Ben stuck his arm straight up into the air, trying to angle the camera just right but he couldn’t quite get the photo to take without blurring. Seth took pity on you and offered to take the photo himself, allowing you and Ben to snuggle in close.  “If you post it on Insta you better credit me,” Set laughed, turning it round to show you.  “I’ll do that,” He said with a smile, “It’s pretty cute, I think I have to post it.”  “Really?” you asked, surprised he’d volunteer to do such a thing.  Ben didn’t have a chance to respond because everything was ready to go. Seth put the phone back away so you could film the scene, laughing in between takes until everyone was satisfied.   “That’s a wrap on Ben Hardy and Y/N Y/L/N everybody,”  A round of applause started as you pushed yourself to sit up, trying to stop yourself from welling up.  “And that’s a wrap on The Perfect Match.”  The applause continued and Ben pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You had to say a few words but you managed to get through it, and Ben’s little speech, without completely losing it. Afterwards, as people packed up the equipment and you headed back to your trailers to change, Ben pulled out his phone again.  “I guess I should post that photo now, how’s this caption,” he said each word slowly as he typed it out, “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.”   “Did you tag me?”  “Of course,”  “Did you tag Seth?”  “Uhhhh, camera emoji by @seththesoundman. Now I have,”  “Then it’s perfect. Little bit cheesy but I’ll let it slide.”  “I’ll post another lot of photos with everyone else later and write a longer thing about how much fun this movie was and all of that, but I think this’ll do for the minute. Mary and Peter better fucking appreciate it.” 

That evening most of the cast and crew headed out for drinks at the local pub. The official party would come later but everyone needed to get out and celebrate for an evening. You and Ben stayed for a few hours, Ben getting a little more clingy with each drink he finished. You limited yourself to only a couple. Ben wasn’t going to be able to drive so you decided to fall on that sword, switching to water quite early on. When he reached the point of intoxication that had him constantly complementing everyone you decided to call it a night, taking a final lap to say goodnight to everyone. There were a few wolf whistles and slurred comments about getting some as you left, Ben’s arm around your waist and his laugh in your ear, but you waved them off and led Ben out to your car.   “C’mon Benny boy, I’ll drop you home.”  “What about my car?”  “Well you’ll have to come get it in the morning, won’t you.”  He hummed and lay his head against the back of the seat, chatting animatedly as you made the trip to his. You wished him goodnight as he got out of the car and watched him make his way up to his front door. There he paused, patting his pockets.  “Everything alright? You called out to him.  “I don’t have any keys,” he laughed, turning around to come back to the car.  “You fucking goon, did you leave them at the pub?”  “Guess so,” he shrugged, “Can I crash at yours?”  “Get in,”  “Thanks cuddle bunny, you’re the best”  You rolled your eyes, “Guess this means I’ll be your taxi tomorrow, running you around to find your keys and your car,”  “That’s what girlfriends are for,”  “If you say so.”  

Once at yours you headed to the kitchen to make tea, Ben following to grab a glass of water and a snack. He knew where you kept everything by now, making himself a sandwich with whatever he found in your fridge, and then carrying it out to the couch. By the time the teas were made Ben already had Netflix queued up, ready to play the next episode of the series you’d started watching together. Nearly Twenty minutes into the episode Ben’s phone dinged.  “Ah shit,” he said as he glanced at it, “forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep? We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.”  “Sure,”  “I promise I won’t be long.”  “Take your time, it’s fine,” you were already reaching for your laptop.  Ben smiled at you before ducking out of the room. You head him walking down the hall, footsteps fading as he got further away. For a while you just enjoyed the quiet as you checked your emails and social media profiles but after commenting on the photo Ben had posted and replying to a few messages from people you knew there wasn’t really much left to do. You drummed your fingers on your keyboard trying to think of another website you could visit. There was still no sign of Ben and you didn’t want to continue the show without him so you stood up, stretched, and headed back to the kitchen to grab some chocolate from the stash you kept. You were just about to shut the fridge when you heard Ben’s voice coming from the other side of the wall. Your spare room where he’d clearly gone to make his phone call.   “Yeah, Joe, I fucking know. But I don’t have much choice.” He sounded more sober than he had when he’d got up. There was a pause as Joe spoke and then you heard Ben again.  “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess…..Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it…. What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.”  There was a long pause. You quietly shut the fridge and took a step back towards the doorway. This was not a conversation you should be listening in to. But then Ben spoke again, and curiosity got the better of you.  “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel.” He laughed but it was completely devoid of humour, “Of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit, man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening…... No, I know it’s completely one sided…..No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew…. I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her but it fucking sucks that it’s only in public….. I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will ma-”  You could feel your cheeks burning as you tiptoed back towards the lounge room, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You paced back and forth for a moment before deciding to go to the bathroom, at least then Ben couldn’t walk in on you as you tried to process it. You let the door shut loudly behind you, hoping that if Ben had heard movement he’d think you’d just got up to use the loo. He couldn’t know you’d overheard him. You leaned against the sink and tried to make sense of what you’d heard. Ben couldn’t have a crush on you, he just couldn’t. But it was the only thing he could have been talking about. What the fuck did that mean for your arrangement? What the fuck were you meant to do now?

[wexhappyxfew]

| CHARACTER STUDY |

>> Private Daniel Jackson [Saving Private Ryan]

>> Sergeant Hazel Parker [The Soldier of Stars - Band of Brothers Fic]

A little while ago, I was talking to Linda ( @wecomrades ) and she had just read of a portion of one of my Band of Brothers fics, The Soldier of Stars, where it portrays my main OC, Hazel Parker, who is a sniper, as whispering prayers each and everytime she shoots her rifle. And so she sent me a message, saying how it was very similar to Private Dnaiel Jackson of Saving Private Ryan. And I was like, OMG THATS WHO SHE IS BASED OFF OF! And well here we are!!

When I first started drafting The Soldier of Stars, it was under a different title, had more characters instead of my 3 now, and was sorta a mess, but I cleaned it up with help from a few writer friends. But Hazel always stayed the same - derived from the character of Private Daniel Jackson of Saving Private Ryan was what I always wanted to go for!! And I did!! For a while I had been planning a sort of almost character study to show Hazel’s similarities to Jackson, but never got the time. But now since our discussion, I have been more inclined than ever to finally do one!! Private Daniel Jackson is also my favorite Saving Private Ryan character, and I just KNEW I had to go along with it!! So without further adieu, please enjoy if you wish!! It’s not much, as I don’t want to spread this out, but it’s my general thought process that I had creating the tiny lil sniper I ADORE with all my heart - Hazel Parker. 💛

INTRODUCTION + BACKGROUND

When I first created Hazel Parker as a character, I wanted to create a quiet, introverted character that people of the more introverted side of the fandom could relate to - who was also a strong female character in her own ways, and also a pretty badass sniper :) So I drew inspiration from Private Daniel Jackson of Saving Private Ryan, pretty heavily - similar ways of seemingly approaching the war, firing their weapon and saying prayers to accompany it, being religious, sort of an quieter personality (they can do their job and do it well). I drew multiple different things from Private Daniel Jackson to add to Hazel Parker as a person and the outcome was exactly what I had hoped to get! 

(1) This Is Just Pure Irony

When Hazel Parker was simply just an idea, with no name, no face claim, nothing really, I just spent time watching war films, gathering ideas, personalities, all of that. The name came to me one night a few minutes before I fell asleep and I really just loved the name ‘Hazel Parker’ together, because I felt it was fairly unique, yet it worked for many, many reasons. And then I went and rewatched Saving Private Ryan and found something out that I LOVED and still LOVE to this day. 

The man who was up with Private Daniel Jackson in the bell tower was named Private Parker. And I honestly just love the irony and connection between that, because then I went and created my own Private [Hazel] Parker. I just loved it because Hazel is based off Private Jackson and then there was that connection and I just loved it! :) 

(2) Religion

Private Daniel Jackson is described as a ‘devout Christian’ and he wears a cross as well as whispers prayers directly from the [King James Version] Bible before shooting his Springfield in combat, which is something paralleled with what I made Hazel do as well as a Christian. 

As a child, Hazel had nowhere to look after her father left and Faith and God were really the only things she could follow after and look to, to guide her she felt because there was nowhere else to go and she felt so lost. This follows her into the war year with Easy Company and eventually into postwar. 

But I used her description of being Christian to show the morals she held in war almost constantly and how she viewed the war and how God was with war. 

One of the most pivotal scenes to describe this moment is between Hazel Parker and Shifty Powers in Bastogne (two who grow to become close friends), where Hazel is talking about how ‘God tells her to love her enemies’, but how can she do that when the enemy does cruel things such as this war? She has a power struggle with her Faith in God and in the reality of war and I present this struggle in many different situations - yet she still remains faithful in the end, which I love. God was there for her through her childhood and through war and she respects that. 

(3) Prayer Whispers

Just like what I mentioned above, a bit, actually is the fact that like Jackson, Hazel is a Christian and similarly whispers prayers before each shot she takes in battle. For how morally coded she is, she is not a fan of death but knows she can not avoid it and whispering a prayer for the life she takes it better than saying nothing in her stance, wishing them well in the afterlife and hope God protects her afterwards for what she has done and committed. 

Private Jackson - Psalm 25:2

“ O my God, I trust in thee: let me not be ashamed, let not mine enemies triumph over me.” 

Corporal Hazel Parker - Not Specified

“ By God, rule me and guide me, ever this day, be at my side, to light and to guard.” 

The examples above are just two excerpts of what both tend to say throughout the course of the book and movie and I think this was the major connection that many people made throughout the course of The Soldier of Stars was how Hazel reminded them of Private Jackson. And I felt super happy that in the end, that was what I had initially hoped for when I had started. It was a nice feeling to have. 

(4) Motives

For me, I felt their motives were also very similar - that is Private Jackson and Corporal Parker. 

In my own interpretation from when I saw Saving Private Ryan, Private Jackson just seemed like the sort of guy, who was there for his friends, highly caring, highly intelligent and skilled, he knew his place, and he had this sort of persona about him that said ‘I’ll go where ever the war takes me, as long as this rifle is in my hand.’ and Hazel is VERY similar to that in many senses. 

Hazel Parker, who doesn’t exactly know her place in the beginning of the fic eventually does find her place, and then remains reliable, intelligent, skilled and focused in her position as she does so - along with the idea of ‘Wherever I go in war, I want my rifle in my hand.” 

( Might I mention that both shoot with Springfield rifles ;) ) 

Even though Private Jackson has much more confidence than Hazel does, his confidence is just an outward confidence of her inward confidence. He speaks it, saying he could kill H*tler from a mile away. Now, Hazel would never say that, but she sure could easily think that. She knows by the middle of the book really she’s good and doesn’t need to say it, she just needs to have that confidence in herself - but it is a very similar sort of confidence overall. 

(5) Just some Fun Facts!

It is said that Private Jackson was born in West Fork, Tennessee and I, coincidentally made Hazel Parker also born in Tennessee in Pigeon Forge! They have a bit of the Southern Charm. 

Like I mentioned above - they both shoot with the exact same sort of Sniper Rifle - the M1903A4 Springfield Rifle and are highly outstanding marksman that both Captain Miller and Major Winters put faith in for the two of them in their separate ways. 

They tend to be able to do solo missions, sometimes with or without a spotter. The M1903A4 Springfield Sniper rifle was used by the US Army during World War 2 and feds a 5 round magazine and is bolt action. And one of the things I liked about this rifle is you didn’t always quite need a spotter for it to be in use - most snipers have a spotter with them for calculations and such - but with this rifle, it is not always required, for if you need to drop and shoot, it still is effective.

Private Jackson does this many times, such as in the very beginning on D-Day on Omaha Beach as well as a bit later on when he faces off with a German Sniper in a downpour in Neuville. And then he continues again in the Bell Tower where he meets his death. 

I portray Hazel as doing a very similar thing when she attacks with Easy Company in Brecourt Manor and is positioned up in a tree, before moving to the first gun - a spotter is not required for her to be effective. She does it again in various moments through out the Normandy Campaign such as during the Battle of Carentan, where she kills from above and in the Battle of Bloody Gulch. We see her again in action in Nuenen and throughout Market Garden and into The Island again where WInters has faith to send her up along the dike away from everyone else to battle. 

The last time we see her in this position is in Bastogne in various, different situations where she is effective and makes it work - one of my ALL TIME FAVORITES actually. It is her night time solo mission to recover the body of Private John Julian, which she does with success and it is I feel one of the most pivotal moments for a character like her because by then we know she can fully handle herself in many, many ways. We see a bit of her inner battle there as well which I love because her mind is highly complex, congested and always in a mind-battle, but I love it and we really get to see her inner thought for what they are. 

And, I also sorta based it on Physical Appearance - neither are exactly the biggest soldiers there - as that is where Hazel got ‘Tiny’ for a nickname really, but being tiny as a sniper works for Hazel because she can move around quickly and hide away easily as well, so her build was based similarly off of Private Jackson’s. 

OH fun fact - it seemed to be that when it came to Jackson’s friends, he was not afraid to quite literally kill for them, Hazel was very much made the same way.

Something that goes off of this is Hazel’s repetition of the ‘bright green-eyed, German soldier’ she killed on her first day in the early hours of the morning. He haunted her in different ways throughout the war (she had killed him with a knife which she had the entire war) and by the end we see her confront the man who shot Chuck and put the knife that killed that German, to the man’s throat. By the end she throws down the knife as a signal that she won’t let the German with the bright green eyes follow her anymore, which gave me, personally, strong Jackson vibes in a way which I loved to write :) 

HEY! so this was sort of my view I took on making Hazel Parker similar to Daniel Jackson in many aspects, just taking important bits and chunks that I noticed and incorporating it like that! I really enjoyed making this and Daniel Jackson had always been a huge inspiration so I was excited to make a character similar to him!! I do this with most of my OC’s in various degrees actually, but this one was on my mind for a while so I was excited to finally do it!! Huge thank you to Linda for being so interested in this topic and hyping me up for it!! I hope you enjoyed, my friend! <3 

[five-wow]

10.19!!! watched it, had thoughts about it, wrote them down. the usual under the cut.

there is a random man in steve’s kitchen (is it the helicopter guy? i... don’t know him well enough to be sure but i am genuinely unsure who else it would be) wearing a “seals do it better” apron while he’s cooking and talking to junior about how this recipe helped him “seal the deal” with the love of his life. okay, random man. you’re not acknowledging it, but you just made a seal pun, so you have my attention.

btw, for a good long moment i genuinely thought this guy might be danny in some kind of weird dream sequence future. i mean, old danny in steve’s kitchen wearing a seal-themed apron and making waffles? i wouldn’t hate it.

junior about how it’s going with tani: “it’s amazing.” okay a) YAY and THAT IS VERY CUTE and b) even so, it’s hilarious to me when random guy says “sounds like you’ve got it bad” just based on junior saying that it’s amazing while he kind of smiles vaguely. cute as it was, it wasn’t a passionate love declaration.

junior lies in bed awake at night dreaming of his thing with tani working out (and not sleeping because he’s scared it might not) and i just !! he’s a smitten mess over her and i adore it, even though his level of anxiety sounds like it’s a little detrimental for his sleep, omg.

fjdkfd we get a scene of adam and quinn who went surfing together and OF COURSE they’re standing under the beach showers as they talk because i feel like adam is literally contractually obligated to have a certain number of shower scenes each season.

tani!! gave quinn!! some surfing pointers!! let’s review: we know that tani is really great at surfing and definitely better than junior, because we had a scene once of them getting back from a surfing trip and junior was slightly pouty over it and tani was absolutely unwilling to downplay her own skill and it was Very Good, and now, in these last few episodes, tani was first present during noelani’s surfing lessons and now she’s apparently been giving quinn advice, and the idea of the h50 women hanging out? the idea of tani being supportive and sharing her knowledge? it’s all so good, ahhh. (ALSO. my mighty need for tani and kono to meet grows with each and every mention of tani’s surfing skill.)

oh my gOD i wrote that bit in brackets and hit play on the episode and IMMEDIATELY adam says that he’s used to being second best in the ocean because “my ex wife was a pro surfer, and very competitive.” YES. GOOD. LOVE THE KONO REFERENCE.

quinn gets a dramatic call from an olivia! i read an episode description, so i know that’s her ex-step daughter. i’m a little hesitant about this “btw quinn has an ex-husband” subplot, but also curious to see where they’re going with it, and quinn jumping to help out a teen girl that she still has a strong bond with is an angle of approach that could potentially be very very relevant to my interests.

cows! “moooo” say the cows, quietly, under the music. they’re not important or plot-relevant, i just like cows.

fjdkfd olivia has a Bad Dad and yes, i do want quinn to adopt her now. it could be good! she could swap tips with steve about how to let your adopted teen know they’re loved and safe and worth so much more than what their parents gave them.

tani to junior: “what, you think i didn’t have a life before i met you?” junior’s eyes: [shoot up to steve, standing right behind tani, who is junior’s mentor AND boss, making it slightly awkward to have a relationship talk right in front of him during work hours] POOR BOY (but also, yes, tani, tell him).

junior is now obsessed with the mystery of why tani is so familiar with a random rancher bar an hour away from her house, and to be honest, so am i.

tani wON A LINE DANCING COMPETITION FOUR WEEKS IN A ROW. that is the BEST solution to the mystery, my gosh.

tani: [brags about her line dancing skills and calls herself the queen] junior: “who are you?” fdjkfdjkfd junior, i don’t even know why you’re suprised that a) tani slays at something she did or b) she is utterly unapologetic about that fact.

olivia says that maybe quinn could come watch her play volleybal some time and quinn says that she’d love to but it’s complicated and don’t do that, quinn! my heart hurts now!

OKAY so olivia isn’t doing cheer this year even though she was captain the previous year and she makes up an excuse about it being because of the other girls but it’s actually about HER DAD taking the money that quinn gave her for a UNIFORM which means she probably couldn’t even try out and I HATE THIS. find your ex and kick his ass, quinn.

lou, after talking about macadamia farming: “but here’s where the story gets a littllllle... nutty.” tani, fistpumping: “nice one.” punner solidarity!! good stuff, good stuff. (though i do wonder what happened to danny’s punning streak in later seasons. anyone remember 1.14, when he joked about the head in a box? he’s lost his appreciation for this fine art and it’s a tragedy, honestly.)

quinn has enlisted adam’s help in tracking her ex (jake) down and she’s telling adam a little about how she never thought she’d fall for a guy like him but he was charming, and then she says “and olivia” and THAT’S when she really smiles, and look, PLEASE don’t let this episode end with olivia still living with her dad because will have to write fix-it fic.

quinn: “i haven’t told anybody i was married, not even steve.” that’s cool, but like, do we believe that means steve doesn’t know? if his background checks haven’t gone completely downhill in the last few years, i would assume he’s figured this out, right? (i love quinn’s “in case you haven’t noticed, i’m not really a sharer” that she adds, because it fits with her personality and it’s just nice to have a female character that’s allowed to be a little secretive about her past in a way that doesn’t feel, idk, sensationalized.)

i have seen a lot of gifs of this episode by now and they’re all of steve and danny and the horses so i’ve seen most of their very polite discussion that ensues when danny calls steve out on not asking him if he wants to ride along, but it’s still utterly glorious. grace gets mentioned, too! and the way danny ends it with “why don’t you try to keep up?” as he passes in front of steve, with steve watching him go? that is flirting. blatant flirting in front of all of their poor teammates. (at least now junior can feel a little less awkward about bringing his relationship with him on the job!)

fjdkfdjk lou’s “all this and they still go time to argue, isn’t that nice?” is A+

steve and danny, as they’re super leisurely chasing some criminals through the woods on horseback: yes, this would be a good time to make up an argument about absolutely nothing at all.

oh gosh, okay, danny says “you know i can uh, i can hear you at night” and steve’s response is “why don’t you get some earplugs?” and um. uh. it’s followed by context, i know, but come on, jfc.

“when i moved in a couple months ago” he’s just GOING for it now, omg. not “came to stay with you”, no attempt at hiding that he’s been staying with steve for literal months at this point - just. when i moved in. a couple months ago.

(i am obviously also very aware of what danny is saying about steve not sleeping and how that’s a new thing because it wasn’t like that a few months ago and steve’s evasiness about it and i am VERY WORRIED ABOUT THAT but i’m also electing to somewhat ignore it because. my god. screw that. we don’t want any of where that seems to be headed in this house.)

“i appreciate it. thank you.” this is growth and it’s good and it’s steve realizing that maybe just his quippy putdown isn’t enough of a response to danny’s genuine offer of support! (and again, we’re not thinking about reasons why he might want to think twice about how he treats danny so danny will know he’s appreciated, because there is no reason for steve to be worried about that, because nothing is going to happen.)

steve: “cuff him, danno.” DANNO. danno has returned from war!!

fjdkfd and then steve says it again in like, the next sentence he says. really cramming in those danno’s suddenly.

oh noooooo. quinn tells adam that jake could be a very good dad (which is valid! addiction is a disease and it’s good to know he wasn’t always like this to olivia, even if i don’t think it excuses what’s happening now), but then she says that jake was all the things she always wished her own dad could be and that maybe that’s why she was so drawn to him, and. okay. did not need that. h50 has a tendency to make women compare their love interests to their dads that makes me very uncomfortable. (the other big one that springs to mind is when abby and chin are courting and chin opens a car door for abby and she says something about how she always admired chivalry in her dad and she thought that died out with his generation and it’s this weird thing where she seems to be flirting by going “wink wonk you make me think of my dad” and oh my god. let’s just say it’s very much not my thing.)

steve and danny end up holed up in a cabin while seven people shoot at them and ahhh, just like old times. also just like last episode, to be honest, with the whole cabin filled with poison thing, but at least there’s no poison this time! that’s a plus!

steve’s improv involves LASSO’ING a guy i’m screaming

dude gets the drop on steve, they have an epic fight, steve HITS HIS HEAD and the dude picks up a GIANT LOG to hulksmash on steve’s head, presumably, and then danny swoops in to the rescue and!!! that’s also very much like old times!!! especially with this forest green color scheme and steve lying on the floor a little dazed it really reminds me of that episode with the girlscout troop in season 3.

(so. in this possible universe we’re not talking about where steve might be sick again and could be pacing at night because he knows or fears he’s going to die (you know the one) do you think that maybe part of why his first words to danny are “why’d you leave the cabin? that wasn’t the plan” is that he was kind of... hoping the other guy would get to finish him off? do you ever think about how steve mcgarrett, man of action, would almost definitely rather go out in a blaze of glory after taking out six guys all on his own with danny having his back, than after watching his own body slowly betray him and give out on him after losing a painful and drawn-out fight with itself?)

confused, frowny steve who almost definitely has a concussion and is also still very bloody is oddly cute, gosh. also, nincompoop! definitely one of danny’s most wonderful insults yet.

quinn gets her ex arrested and yells at him and tells him that if he doesn’t clean up his act, he’ll lose custody of his daughter, and then she drives away and she’s sobbing and trying not to and just !!!!! this was definitely the good kind of “quinn has an ex-husband” storyline, but also very painful.

the sunset scene! seen this in gifset too, but hoooo boy, it hits very differently with actual sound. (i may also have described the scene to my sister and mentioned the “probably ‘cause i figured i’d see a million more” and her immediate response was “oooh, he’s dead” and yES, that’s what i was TELLING YOU i’m worried about and also what i’m not thinking about so let’s just pretend i’m not typing these words right now.)

fdjkfdjkfd i’m sure that steve turning to danny just as he says “those are the things that you’re gonna miss the most in the end, you know” after mentioning things you see every day is just. a total coincidence. yeah. he’s totally just turning away from this sunset he was so entranced by a moment ago to look at danny’s face because he wants to stretch his neck. uh huh.

there’s banter about squirrels and it’s good and then steve says “admit it danny, you’re gonna miss this when it’s done” and that sounds very meta, omg, but it gets better when danny says “yeah, maybe, but i would never say it out loud” because that is literally a way to say it, out loud.

a very good episode!! i loved meeting olivia and learning about quinn’s background and there was some prime tani content and to top it off a lot of mcdanno in the second half, and if we just completely ignore that this episode also made my anxiety about the series finale skyrocket (which i knew it would, based on what i’d gathered of other people’s response to it, but that still didn’t accurately prepare me) it was wonderful and i liked it a lot! 

[starkastichotmess]

@legacydefined​ asked: ;;time for a random positivity message! ngl I really admire you!! we don’t really talk ooc but I’ve seen how much work you put into not only tony, but your other blogs too, and it baffles me how anyone would have the patience or ability to create so much, and yet here you are!! doing it three times over!! your tony is amazing; every time I read something from him I can hear it in his voice, perfectly clear. you have his mannerisms down pat and you are so good at setting a scene, honestly, it’s inspiring!! you’re doing an incredible job and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!!

If this seems a bit disjointed, please understand that I’ve felt like absolute shite for the last several days between having a ptsd episode the other day triggered by a tornado siren test and then my blood sugar being severely out of whack today thanks to hypoglycemia, so my brain is kinda ‘nnnh’ right now.

BUT!! jdhfksjdhfjhasdkhf!! Thank you?!!!!

Listen, getting a character’s voice right is like... absolute priority for me in my writing, because dialogue comes far easier to me than descriptions (a bit ironic, considering my own social anxiety disorder that at times leaves me completely nonverbal to where I end up resorting to what sign language I know).

So the fact that you hear Tony so clearly? My reaction?

(There really is a SPN gif for everything, isn’t there?)

This arrived just as I was closing out of doing some coding (updated the interactions page over on the Doctor Who multi), which is that “extra coding work that I do for my blogs that I need for accessibility purposes but omfg time consuming”. It’s a good thing I actually find coding relaxing (most of the time, so long as I don’t forget a semicolon or leave a tag unclosed and have to go searching through hundreds of lines of codes to fix it), given how I kinda... overdo some of it, I guess?

Let’s see... Four blogs housing 27 full muses (not including the irregulars and npcs), of which 7 of them are original (or canon-based) characters? And honestly, that’s not even scratching the surface of how many characters I could write, given I also write fanfic and original fiction for fun outside of tumblr? But that means 27+ muse dossier pages, some of whom have multiple tabs per muse thanks to AUs and such (mostly Tony and Layla, since their backgrounds change more drastically between AU verses than most).

Yeah... I don’t know how I manage it either most days, honestly. Besides having literal decades worth of coding experience, which is why I’m more comfortable doing coded pages. Plus it makes working off templates a hell of a lot easier when I can speed up the process with multiline find & replace (extremely useful for things like the tag pages and whatnot).

But again, thank you. You had magnificent timing with this, honestly, because things have been difficult and stressful lately, which is why I’ve been kinda... all over the place without any rhyme or reason. But this made me smile and get all butterflies-ly (totally a word now... shush, I haven’t slept yet, and I’ve lost track of when the last time I did sleep was... Don’t emulate your own muse’s bad habits, kids; though I’m just dealing with chronic insomnia as per usual). 

Also, we can absolutely chat ooc. I’m just one of those people who unless a) I have something specific to say, or b) I know with certainty that sending absolutely random stream-of-conscious thoughts at you at any time of the day or night (sometimes while being half-asleep myself because I woke myself up with the thought and have to send it immediately or I’d forget) is perfectly acceptable and even encouraged, then I often won’t say anything at all since I abhor small talk and will actively avoid it as much as possible.

The latter of which often leads to me using chats on discord as notepads for “omg, here’s a thing for this muse!” and then dropping unexpected fluff or angst on them so that I can work it into things later. 

Like for Tony’s Mass Effect AU, where I came to the realisation that for his fear of space to remain intact while he’s living on a bloody space station and where intergalactic space travel is very much part of his daily life through Stark Industries, he’s going to end up having to get spaced. And not just through a hole in the hull of a ship or anything, but something akin to the wormhole all over again, just with a twist of who caused it and what he finds on the other side.

On that note, I really do need to try again to get some sleep. Or to at least lay down for a few hours again. But thank you again! I love you! 🥰💕

[wistfulcynic]

To Keep It All The Year (3 /4)

Anyone up for a spot of pure fantasy in which people are essentially good and their positive actions are rewarded with deserved happiness? Yeah, me too. It’s been a WEEK, for me and @katie-dub​ and anyone else in the UK with a conscience and a shred of human decency, so let’s all have a bit of an escape.

SUMMARY: Killian Jones is a broken man, betrayed by everyone and everything he thought he could believe in. He’s all but given up on life until a fateful meeting with bartender Emma Swan and her son Henry gives him a reason to live again, and a chance to redeem his past.

All it takes is a little Christmas magic.

On AO3 | Tumblr: Part One | Part Two 

Thanks as ever to @thisonesatellite​ who keeps me fuelled with whisky and lebkuchen, a paring ordained by the gods, and also because MAGICAL WREATHS OMG WUTTT ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Tagging all the folks from the last tag list, PLEASE do let me know if you want to be added or removed. @kmomof4​​​​​​​​​​​ @shireness-says​​​​​​​​​ @snidgetsafan​​​​​​​​​​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​​​​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​​​​​​ @stahlop​​​​​​​​ @mariakov81​​​​​​​​ @courtorderedcake​​​​​​ @jonirobinson64​​​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​​​​ @ohmightydevviepuu​​​​​​​​ @shardminds​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​​ @teamhook​

-

PART THREE: THE FUTURE

Killian moves out of his apartment that very afternoon. He can’t bear to spend another moment there. He needs a fresh start in a new place, one that will encourage him to be better rather than indulging the worst of him. 

Everything he owns, every single thing, fits into a large satchel and a medium-sized suitcase. Packing it all takes less than an hour. Killian drops his key into the landlord’s mailbox and heads across town to a guesthouse he found with a quick internet search, not a great place but his finances are limited and it’s still better than that apartment. There’s an actual bed, for a start, and part of him is tempted to crawl into it and drink until his chest stops aching and he no longer sees the crushed look in Emma’s eyes each time he closes his own, but he has made promises to himself and he intends to keep them. 

So instead he falls back on the least damaging of his old crutches and heads out for a walk. The guesthouse is a bit rough around the edges but the neighbourhood whose western boundary it marks is a vast improvement over his old one. There’s an elegance and dignity in the slightly run-down buildings here, like they’ve aged gracefully and in comfort without any of the desperation and squalor that characterised his old place. They’ve kept their head up, even through hard times, and they haven’t given in. A lesson lurks in there somewhere, he thinks. 

He’s been wandering for about half an hour when his attention is caught by a door. Not a particularly remarkable door, but has a jolly little Christmas wreath hung upon it which brings a smile to Killian’s face. Something about those little wreaths always draws him in, he thinks. Something he can’t quite put his finger on...

The door is made of wide wooden planks painted a deep forest green and boasts an old-fashioned brass knocker in the shape of a roaring lion. It belongs to what appears to be a small bookshop, and as Killian pushes it open he feels a stirring of eagerness that he hasn’t felt in years. He can’t remember the last time he read a good book. Something layered and complex, he thinks, with a well-crafted world that he can dig into and lose himself for a while. 

The shop is surprisingly spacious, with row upon row of tall wooden bookshelves lined up straight as soldiers along its walls and a broad central aisle leading to the till and a small cafe at the back. Twin spiral staircases rise up on each side to a mezzanine where he can see more shelves and a cosy reading area with overstuffed sofas and armchairs and a few scattered beanbags of the perfect size for children. Killian walks slowly down the centre aisle, aware his mouth is hanging open and barely resisting the urge to spin around, gaping in awe. Were he asked to give a description of his ideal bookshop it would be precisely this, he thinks, from the aged patina on the shelves to the fluffy grey cat curled on a cushion in the window, to the truly dizzying array of books. It is magnificent. 

“Can I help you find anything?” Killian shakes himself from his reverie and turns to see a petite brunette in towering heels smiling a friendly smile. 

“Ah, no thank you, lass,” he replies, “I’m just br—you know what, actually, yes. You can.”

He explains what sort of book he’s after and the woman—Belle, according to her name tag—leads him around the shop in search of it. She makes excellent recommendations, a fair number of which he’s already read, but after an enjoyable hour or so Killian has a small armload of books he can’t wait to crack open and perhaps, he hopes, a friend. 

After he pays for them he and Belle stand at the till for another ten minutes or so, chatting amiably. Killian formally introduces himself and informs Belle that he’s just moved to the neighbourhood and is out exploring. He’s just about to ask if she knows a good place to eat when he spots the small sign taped to the cash register. 

“Are you hiring?” he says in surprise.

“I am. I could use an assistant three or four days a week,” says Belle. “You interested?” 

“I might be,” Killian replies. He’ll need a job to afford the new life he intends to build for himself, he thinks, and working in this lovely little shop with Belle would be a dream come true. 

“Any retail experience?” she asks.

“None. But I’m a fast learner and fairly widely read.” 

“I’ll say,” says Belle wryly. “Okay, let’s give it a try. I can start you on—” she names an hourly wage that has Killian’s eyes widening. 

“Is that the standard market rate for a bookshop assistant?” 

“Nope.” Belle’s voice is cheerful and also makes it clear she doesn’t intend to answer any questions on the subject.

“Er—okay. Well, that would be more than satisfactory.” Enough to give him the new beginning he needs, he thinks. More than. 

Belle nods. “When can you start?” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Perfect.” 

—

Belle lives above the bookshop, in a two-bedroom flat that she claims can get a little lonely. She claims this a week into the new year when she learns that Killian is looking for a place to live, and insists on showing him the spare room that very minute. 

Her flat is tidy but comfortable and the room she shows him plainly furnished, with polished hardwood floors and plaster walls painted a warm ivory. A large chest of drawers takes up one corner and in another is a metal framed bed spread with a quilt that he’s sure is handmade. There’s a single wide window framed by soft yellow curtains that turn the afternoon light golden and a single framed poster on the wall, of Waterhouse’s Miranda. Killian stares at the painting for some time, thinking it should probably upset him. Instead he feels soothed, by the room’s gentle simplicity and by the shipwreck safely tucked away in the brushstrokes of an oil painting. He moves in the next day. 

He and Belle get on splendidly. Their habits mesh in a comfortable way, both being meticulously tidy early risers, equally content to spend their evenings in heated argument about books as in the silent companionship of reading or watching television. Killian almost wishes their easy friendship could develop into something more, though it does occur to him that he’s never had a woman as just a friend before and perhaps this is a thing that might do him some good. 

That and he still dreams of soft golden hair, and green eyes that see into his soul. 

He begins to eat regular healthy meals, sharing the cooking duties with Belle, and after a month or so of that he joins a gym. He still goes on his long, rambling walks but far less frequently than before, using them as an opportunity to explore new neighbourhoods rather than a desperate attempt to escape his demons and he never, never stops at the docks. 

He also starts seeing a therapist, on Belle’s gentle suggestion after one too many nights of being woken up by his nightmares. She can recommend one personally, she confesses, for the very same reason that she is able to pay him so well. The bookshop is financed by hush money—she spits the words—her lavish divorce settlement from a man who controlled and abused her for years and when she finally managed to leave him tracked her down and nearly killed her. She grips Killian’s hand tightly as she tells him this, tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks, yet there is a ring of triumph in her voice as she explains how he signed over more than half his assets to her in exchange for her promise not to prosecute, or sell tales of his abuse to the press. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have taken it,” she says. “Maybe I should have exposed him instead, or pressed charges. But he could weather bad press or bribe his way out of jail time while it will take him years to build his business back up again. Decades, even. And meanwhile I have my shop. And my freedom.” 

Belle knows as well as Killian does how heavily tainted money can weigh on person’s conscience, and that the only way to bear its weight is by turning it to something good. She’s a survivor, just like him. Just like Emma. 

Slowly, so slowly, Killian feels the parts of himself he thought were broken beyond repair begin to mend, and every day he focuses on that healing. He nourishes his body with exercise and good food and he nourishes his mind with books and conversation. He nourishes his soul as well, with his therapy sessions and with the bookshop’s weekly children’s story time, which Belle insists he take charge of after catching him watching wistfully from behind a shelf as she sat surrounded by a semicircle of rapt faces, reading an adventure book. 

He was thinking of Henry. 

He thinks of Henry often, and of course of Emma. Every time he rambles through a new part of the city he wonders if they are living there, perhaps in one of the sprawling houses with soft green lawns in the residential areas, or maybe in an airy loft in one of the edgier, artier neighbourhoods. He hopes that wherever they are they’ve found a true home of their own, with security and comfort and reliable childcare for Henry. Emma no longer needs to work so she could study full time if she wished, or do something else entirely. She wouldn’t strictly speaking need to do anything, but if Killian knows her—and despite the short duration of their acquaintance he’s quite certain he does—she will want to keep studying, for her own satisfaction and to find a career that suits her. Emma Swan could never be content sitting around all day doing nothing. She would want to do some good in the world, regardless of her personal circumstances. The kindness she showed to a strange man in a bar when she had next to nothing of her own was proof enough of that. 

It hurts to think of them but it’s a good sort of pain, a gentle, bittersweet ache that warms his heart, nothing like the tearing agony he felt for so many years whenever he thought of Liam. Thoughts of Emma and Henry inspire him, keep him moving steadily along this new path he’s chosen to tread. Though he’s certain he’ll never see either of them again he wants to live his life in a way that honours his feelings for them. 

He doesn’t go back to the bar where he and Emma met, not often. It’s just a place to drink without the magic her presence lent it, and drinking is a thing he’s trying to do less of these days. But the following Christmas Eve he finds himself back in his old neighbourhood standing before the plain brown door. There’s a jolly little Christmas wreath hung upon it, and Killian knows by now that he’s powerless in the face of those wreaths. He lets it draw him in through the door and over to a stool at the bar where he orders the expensive rum Emma gave him last year and sips it slowly as the memories that infuse the very air of this place both warm and pain him. He’ll allow himself this, he thinks, just this one small lapse. He’s worked hard all year, he can have one evening of self pity. His Christmas gift to himself. 

“Hey, sailor.” 

The voice is impossible and yet he hears it, turns towards it in astonishment then scrambles to his feet. 

“Emma!” he gasps. He stares at her, drinks in the sight of her, of the face that’s haunted his dreams for a year lit up by a bright smile. “What—what are—I had no idea you’d be here.” 

“I almost wasn’t,” she replies. “I was at a Christmas party across town, actually. but then I just had the strangest urge to come here and so here I am.” 

“It’s wonderful to see you, love.” His astonishment ebbs and gives way to a fierce and fearsome joy. He can’t believe she’s here, right in front of him and real, and so lovely he aches to look at her. “How are you? How’s Henry?” 

“Henry’s great. I’m great. We’re great.” She laughs. 

“That’s... well, it’s great.” His smile is beginning to hurt his cheeks, but he could no more stop smiling it than he could make the Earth spin backwards. 

“It is,” she agrees. “Listen, um, can we sit down somewhere?” 

“Of course. Can I get you a drink?”

“Yeah.” Something shifts in her smile, sharpens it in a way that steals his breath. “I’ll have a rum.” 

He orders one for her and another for himself and they sit together in a small, round booth in the corner of the bar. It’s cosy and intimate and it envelops them, making Killian’s heart pound and his mouth go dry. 

Emma seems unfazed, giving him a cool once-over as he slides in beside her on the leather seat. There’s a new confidence in her demeanour now, the kind of quiet assurance that forms in people who answer to no one but themselves. It sits well on her, he thinks. Comfortably, like it was always waiting for her to slip it on.

“You look good,” she tells him. 

“Um.” He feels himself flush and gulps some rum to wet his throat. “Thank you. You look lovely, but then you always did.” 

She observes him in silence for a moment, sipping her own drink. “I looked for you, you know,” she says. 

“You did?” 

“I did. Do you know how many Killian Joneses there are in the phone book?” 

“Er—no.”

“Zero,” she declares. “Including you.” 

“Ah. Well I don’t really—” 

“But,” she interrupts, “as it turns out, I’m pretty good at finding people, even when they don’t want to be found. I found you, eventually. In that bookstore where you work.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I was going to come in but you, ah, weren’t alone. I saw you through the window, standing with a woman. Laughing.” She stares into her glass. “I’d never seen you laugh like that before. Or at all.” 

“A woman?” Killian frowns in confusion. “What woman?” 

“A really pretty one with long brown hair,” says Emma quietly. “Cute dress, very petite. You looked... close.” 

“Belle,” he says. “My boss and flatmate.” 

“Flatmate?” Emma repeats with an odd note in her voice. Her eyes flicker up to him then back to her glass. 

“Er—my roommate,” he amends. 

“I know what a flatmate is, Killian.” 

“Ah. Yes of course, I just, er—” 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” 

He’s taken aback by the non-sequitur, and the shy smile that accompanies it. The shy smile and the eyes shining with something that makes his already galloping heart pound harder still. “Well, it’s Christmas Day,” he replies weakly. 

“That’s also a thing I know.” 

“I was just planning to have a meal with Belle, maybe watch some Christmas movies,” he says. “Nothing special.”  

“Why don’t you and Belle come to my house instead? For dinner?” 

“Oh, well, I—” 

“Come on, you have to,” she cajoles. ��Henry would never forgive me if he found out I’d seen you and not invited you. He talks about you all the time.” 

“He does?” 

“He does.” 

Killian takes another gulp of rum, emptying the glass. He feels dizzy at this turn of events, almost afraid that they will turn out to be nothing more than another fevered dream. Surreptitiously he pinches his thigh and when he feels the sharp prick of pain he risks a look at Emma. She’s still smiling, that same hopeful, expectant smile he’d been so powerless against one year ago. “Well, I’ll have to check with Belle but I’m sure she’ll agree,” he says. “I’ve—mentioned you and Henry once or twice myself, she’ll be over the moon to meet you both.” 

Emma’s smile turns radiant. “Give me your number and I’ll text you the address,” she says. He does, and a moment later his phone dings with a new message. Her address he recognises from his rambles as belonging to a part of town that’s nice but not ostentatious, with comfortable family homes and plenty of parks and very good schools. He thinks about Emma and Henry living there and feels a warm glow of sheer delight. It’s exactly what he hoped for, for them. 

“I have to get home,” says Emma. “I told Henry’s babysitter I’d be back by midnight. But—you will come over tomorrow, won’t you? About noon? You promise?” 

Killian smiles. “You have my word. I’ll see you then.” 

—

Belle agrees to have dinner at Emma’s with as much enthusiasm as he predicted, practically dancing with excitement at the prospect.

“The mythical Emma and Henry!” she sings. “I feel like I’m about to meet a unicorn, or Santa himself.” 

Killian’s stomach is dancing too, with anxiety and eagerness and hope. Foolish hope, he tells himself firmly, but it ricochets around his insides nonetheless and refuses to be quashed. He walked away from Emma a year ago so she could have the freedom to make her own choices and she chose to find him, to invite him back into her life. He’s not certain quite what that means but he thinks—he hopes— that at the very least he won't have to go another whole year without seeing her and Henry. That thought alone is enough to make his Christmas bright.

As he stands in the shower with the hot water flowing over him he thinks about how very different his life is than it was just a year ago. The fact that his shower is hot and the water plentiful is the very least of the changes. He no longer has nightmares, no longer feels haunted by his past or fears he might be swallowed up by bleak despair. The dark moods still come from time to time but he is prepared for them now, equipped to weather them without turning to self-destruction. He feels healthier than he has since his navy days, physically as well as mentally. His paunch is gone, replaced with firm muscle, and though he’ll never be as ripped as some of the younger men he works out alongside, he’s toned and strong and that’s enough for him. His complexion now has a ruddy glow, especially when he returns from one of his walks, and he’s begun to take more care with his appearance again, keeping his hair trimmed in a flattering style and investing in a nicer wardrobe. 

He gets out of the shower and towels himself dry, then dresses in some of his new garments: charcoal trousers and a black sweater over a shirt with a soft tonal pattern, pale purple and blue against dove grey. He wonders what Emma will think of his new clothes, what she will think of all the changes this past year has wrought in him. He wonders if she’s thought of him the way he’s thought of her. 

He wonders what he can bring to dinner this afternoon. There’s a bottle of good wine in the cupboard that he and Belle planned to have with their own Christmas meal and of course many things in the bookshop he’s sure Emma and Henry would love. That should be fine for gifts but still something troubles him, an itchy sort of tingle at the back of his mind, like he’s forgetting something vital. What was it that he brought for them last year? He frowns as he tries to remember. The ship for Henry, that was it, and flowers for Emma from that odd little shop, the one with the florist who reminded him of... of... 

Bloody hell. 

Killian reels, gripping his bedpost for balance as memories from the year before come flooding back, clear and perfect as though they happened only yesterday. It couldn’t be, he thinks, it’s impossible, and how could he not have noticed at the time? How could he not have seen?

Magic, little brother.  

“Killian!” Belle raps sharply on the half-open door of his bedroom, her tone of voice suggesting she’s been calling him for some time. “Are you ready to go? It’s nearly half past eleven.”

“Aye, love.” He breathes in deeply and stands upright. “Be right there.”

They go down to the shop where Killian selects several books for Henry, some of which are slightly above his age group—because a child should have a library that builds towards the future—and, remembering the shelves in her old apartment, a picture frame for Emma made of delicately carved rosewood. He wraps them carefully and rings them up on his employee account as Belle calls them a cab. It’s not far at all to Emma’s house but when Killian suggests they walk Belle informs him crisply that while he might enjoy a snowy stroll across twelve city blocks her shoes would not, and takes out her phone. 

The quiet Christmas streets make the ride a short one, but Killian is glad of even a few minutes of peace to sit and to think and spends most of the journey staring out the window at the snowy trees and lawns and attempting to sort through the chaos in his mind. 

“Why didn’t you put the wreath on the door this year?” he asks Belle. 

“What wreath?” She turns to him with a small frown. 

“Last year there was a Christmas wreath on the door of the bookshop,” he replies. “A small one, made of evergreen and holly with pinecones and cinnamon sticks and a big red bow. It’s what caught my attention as I was walking by, why I went inside.”

Belle shakes her head. “There wasn’t any wreath, Killian, though that’s a lovely idea. Maybe we can get one for next year.” 

“Aye. I know just the shop to get it from,” he mutters, and then the cab pulls up to Emma’s house. 

It’s a charming little house, two storeys of dark red brick with slate blue trim on the windows and on the wide porch where comfortable looking wicker furniture and outdoor toys are all jumbled together. There’s a snowman on the lawn, jaunty and quite pleased with himself in his red and green striped scarf and an actual top hat, surrounded by piled-up and solidly-packed mounds of snow and the gruesome remains of what was evidently a long and hard-fought snowball battle. 

The mat lying at the foot of the front door reads Welcome! Everything is fine in soothing green lettering and Killian and Belle exchange a grin as they ring the bell. From within they can hear the sound of voices and then the door swings open and Emma appears, looking festive in skinny jeans and a green sweater with the cartoon face of Rudolph on the front, his nose large and round and glittery red. There’s a plastic holly sprig behind her ear and a bright smile on her face. 

“Hey!” she says. “Come in! You must be Belle, I’m Emma. You can hang your coats just here.” 

They do so, shrugging the coats off and handing Emma the wine and gifts which she accepts with a laugh that holds a touch of surprise. She leads them down a short hallway and into a cosy living room with a plush sofa along the wall and a tall and brightly decorated tree in the window. A fire blazes beneath a wooden mantelpiece where Christmas stockings labeled Henry and Emma still hang, empty now, and bits of wrapping paper and ribbon still cling to the rug in front of it. Killian has just enough time to observe these things before a miniature whirlwind bursts through the door and barrels into his solar plexus. 

“Killian!” Henry cries, squeezing him in a tight hug. “Mom said you were coming but I couldn’t believe it. I missed you. Why didn’t you ever come back?”

Killian’s chest feels as tight as Henry’s arms as he struggles for breath and for the words to explain his conduct. “I’m sorry, Henry, I just—I—I had some things I needed to sort out with myself, before I could be good company to others.”

“But you’re here now, right?” Henry pulls back and looks up at him with brown eyes as wide and trusting as ever. “And you won’t go away again?” 

Killian hesitates. He doesn’t want to presume, but then again Emma did come to find him. Surely it wasn’t overstepping to say he would visit Henry from time to time? He senses her watching him and looks up, catching her eye with an imploring look. She nods to him and he swallows hard before returning it. 

“Aye, lad,” he says, stroking Henry’s hair with a hand that’s not quite steady. “I won’t go away again.”

“Good,” says Henry solemnly, and then his face lights up. “Guess what? I have my own room now!” he cries. “Do you want to see it?” 

“I do indeed.” Killian glances at Belle who waves him away. “Go,” she says. “I’ll stay here and chat with Emma.” 

Henry’s room has bunk beds with Thomas the Tank Engine sheets and an overflowing toy chest in one corner. There’s a small bookshelf as well, with the beginnings of a fine library already on it, and taking pride of place in the centre of the very top shelf is the ship Killian gave him last Christmas. 

“I play with it in the tub. We have a tub now,” says Henry when he notices Killian looking at the ship. “Mom made sure we did but she says I can’t play in it every day because I splash too much and take too long, but on Saturdays I can play as long as I want.” 

Killian takes a moment before replying. “What else do you like to play with?” he asks hoarsely. 

Henry shows off his toys and books and though Killian is anything but an expert in parenting he can see that they’ve been carefully chosen for both fun and enrichment, and that while they are plentiful there aren’t too many for one child to use. Emma hasn’t spoiled him, or herself, despite how easily she could have. 

When they head back downstairs they find Emma and Belle laughing together on the sofa, each with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a plate of Christmas cookies on the coffee table in front of them. 

“Hey!” says Henry indignantly. “I want hot chocolate!” 

Emma gives him a stern look and he flushes. “Please,” he adds. 

“There’s some for you in the kitchen,” she says, setting her mug down on the table and getting up. “Would you like some too, Killian?” 

“Yes, thank you,” he replies. 

They drink their chocolate and munch their cookies and conversation flows easily and merrily among them. Killian is amazed at how well Emma and Belle have hit it off and Henry is ‘on his Christmas behaviour,’ Emma says with a laugh, sitting on the floor playing with his trains and listening, occasionally piping up with a question or comment. Belle and Killian tell them all about the bookshop and Emma promises to bring Henry there as soon as possible. 

“For the story time!” cries Henry, eyes wide at the prospect, and then Belle suggests he might like to open the presents they brought him. He squeals with delight at the new books, and Killian gets so caught up in telling him about them that he doesn’t notice Emma quietly unwrap the picture frame until he hears her soft “Oh!” 

He turns to see her staring at it with misty eyes and an expression that makes his heart clench. “I know how you love your pictures,” he says softly. “I remember.” 

“Henry, what do you say we find a place for those books on your shelves,” says Belle. “Then maybe you can show me your room and the ship Killian gave you last year?”

She ushers Henry from the room, leaving Killian and Emma alone, staring at each other. 

“Emma—” he begins, just as she says “Killian—” and they share a nervous laugh. 

“Me first, please,” she says, and he nods. 

“Of course, love.” 

She licks her lips and takes a steadying breath before she speaks. “When you walked away last year,” she begins, “outside the bank, I was so hurt. I know why you did it—I think I know—but it still hurt and for a while I was angry. I thought—I thought we had a connection, and then for you to just leave like that, I—” She shakes her head. “Well, I tried to forget about you and move on, build this new life for myself and Henry, and I did build it but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All year I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and I missed you. That may sound dumb since we only spent a day together, but that’s how I feel.” 

“It doesn’t sound dumb at all,” he says. “I missed you too.” 

She gives a small, choking laugh. “I thought you didn’t,” she says. “When I saw you and Belle in the bookstore, I thought, well, he’s forgotten all about you.” 

“I definitely did not,” he replies. “I couldn’t. I thought about you too, all year.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh, aye.” He attempts a smile. “Every day.”

Her eyes are liquid soft and their expression makes his blood hum. “I don’t want to go through that again next year,” she says. “I want to… to see you, and not—not just as a friend.” 

“Emma—” 

“And don’t say you’re too old! I know that’s what you’re going to say.” 

“It is true.” 

“It’s not. You can’t be more than what, thirty-four, thirty-five?” 

“Thirty-five.” 

“I’m twenty-three.” 

“That’s—” 

“But I don’t care about that, Killian. I like your silver hair and that you’ve had experience of the world. Sometimes I feel like I missed out on so much, getting pregnant so young and since then my whole life has been Henry and trying to get through college. And now I have all this money and I know there’s so much I can do with it, and places I can go, but I don’t really know where to start.”

“Love—” 

“Not that I want you to be a tour guide or like an adviser or something, I want—fuck, I’m making a mess of this.” 

Killian realises he’s holding his breath, forces himself to exhale and draw in fresh air. “Emma,” he says firmly, “there’s nothing I’d like more than to have a place in your life, and Henry’s, in whatever capacity you wish.” 

“Whatever capacity?” 

“Aye.” 

“So if I said I wanted you to be my—” she takes a deep breath—“my date for a New Year’s Eve party I’m invited to, you’d agree?” 

“It would be my honour.” 

“And then if I asked you out to dinner?” she continues. “My treat.” 

He laughs. “I know a restaurant I think you’d love.” 

“And afterwards? If I invited you back here for some coffee?” 

“You do make excellent coffee, I don’t think I could refuse.” 

“Then if I wanted to go out again, someplace else?” 

“You could choose the restaurant, and I would pay.” 

“Then maybe a movie sometime?” 

“At the old cinema near the bookshop.” 

“And what— what if, after a little while, I wanted to have coffee again in the morning? You’d—you’d stay and have that second cup with me?” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

She nods. “That’s the capacity I wish.” 

She’s so close now that he can count the flecks of gold in her eyes and he realises that her hand is on his thigh and his is on her hip, and then she closes the remaining distance between them and kisses him. He moans and pulls her closer, his other hand tangling in her hair as hers curls around his neck and he loses himself in the taste of chocolate and cinnamon on her tongue and the promise of her lips on his. The promise of a future, their future, together. 

There’s a clattering noise of footsteps and loud voices on the stairs and they break apart. Killian leans his forehead against Emma’s, revelling in the sight of her dazed and happy smile, and silently thanks Belle for her discretion. Emma stands and pulls him to his feet, and when Henry and Belle appear she beams at them both. 

“I think dinner’s nearly ready,” she says. “Henry, let’s go set the table.” 

Belle gives Killian a smirk that’s thoroughly ruined by the delight dancing in her eyes. “You look happy,” she says. “And a bit shell-shocked.” 

“Aye, to both those things.” 

“And you appear to be wearing lipstick,” she teases, handing him a tissue and grinning at his blush. He wipes his mouth and when he offers it back to her she takes his hand as well. 

“I’m so glad for you,” she says. “Merry Christmas, Killian. The first of many, I think.” 

Killian looks into the dining room where Emma and Henry are laughing as he sets the table and she lays the food out on it. “Aye,” he says gruffly. “I think it will be. I hope.” 

-

[askauradonprep]

So, what would everyone think of the two rumble matches last night? Anyone happy with the results? Mad? Had a favorite part/least favorite part?

I was actually going to write a series of ‘tweets’ for some friends who enjoy WWE and Descendants so I’m reallllllllyyyyyy glad you asked.

Sheamus vs Chad Gable (I refuse to dignify the stupid storyline that called him ‘Shorty G’) - 

@MalGuillory - Okay, yeah. Kinda shoulda seen this coming on the pre-show. Not a bad start! At least it wasn’t the girls or the tags this time -_-

@LiLonnie - YES! Welcome back Sheamus! I’m sorry, Shorty, I love you too.

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Meh. Slow start but not bad.

@JayRasheed - When’s The Bar coming back?@CarlosDeville replied - @Cesaro https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LH4Y1ZUUx2g

@BenBonhomme - Not a bad start! Welcome back, Sheamus!

 Andrade vs Humberto Carrillo - 

@CrownPrincessRuby - Ahhh! I don’t know who to cheer for! Someone help!@PrincessAnxelin replied - Seriously, she’s making the ‘computer overheating whirring’ noise.

@BenBonhomme - Awww! I thought Humberto had him. Next time for sure!

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Was kinda hoping Zelina’d turn on Andrade. Oh well.@CrownPrincessRuby replied - BITE YOUR TONGUE. Zelina and Andrade are so good together!@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa replied - Zelina Vega’s good on her own too. It’s a waste for her to stay with him if they’re not mixed tagging.

@LiLonnie - That was a good match! Bummer for Humberto, but I’m happy for Andrade.

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Wait. Both matches were title-less. IS WWE LEARNING HOW TO BOOK PRE-SHOWS?!?? #ItsAMiracle@HarryHook replied - They must be reading your twitter, Captain. Seems more likely. 

Roman vs Corbin - 

@BenBonhomme - EXCELLENT start to the Rumble! Well done Roman Reigns!

@PrincessAudreyVictore - #ThankYouRoman for having the grace, determination and LEADERSHIP a true King offers.

@JayRasheed - I love Corbin, but as soon as he opened that dog food, he had that coming. Good job, Big Dog.

@CarlosDeville - That’s what you GET for messing with the bloodline!

@LiLonnie - YEAH! Great job Roman! The Usos coming to help had me T.T

@MalGuillory - #WelcomeToTheRumble

@4HeartsEvie - Maybe now Corbin can get a new crown? Please? My work email’s in my description. I’LL DO IT FOR FREE.@Evie’sManagerDoug replied - Please don’t do it for free. 

@PrincessAnxellin - I still think Corbin should’ve won. *shrug*@CrownPrinceChad replied - You and me both.

 Women’s Rumble - 

@MalGuillory - Alright! Let’s get this party started!

@LiLonnie - Already??? Oh well. 

@LiLonnie - OMG OMG Molly Holly, okay, I take it back. @MalGuillory replied - Hey, chill! You’re not allowed to die tonight!@LiLonnie replied - Bold of you to assume Asuka vs Becky isn’t gonna kill me but okay.

@4HeartsEvie - I see we’ve reached the ‘Lonnie freaking out about the Legends’ portion of the show.@JayRasheed replied - Seriously. I’ve learned about 99% of the legends I know about from her freaking out. 

@PrincessAudreyVictore - #ESTofNXT let’s go!

@PrincessAudreyVictore - Oh no! Mercedes Martinez is here! Who am I supposed to cheer for now?@LiLonnie replied - I love them all. Feel my pain. @PrincessAudreyVictore replied - You love all wrestlers. You just have that ‘I just hope both teams have fun’ sign. :P

@JaneCollingwood - I love Lana’s gear! So pretty!

@CarlosDeville - GO LANA!

@MalGuillory - Oh, Liv, what did they do to you? T . T #Travesty

@CarlosDeville - YEAH! NAOMI!

@CrownPrincessRuby - YES! Welcome back Glow Queen! #Naomi

@CarlosDeville - GET THEM NAOMI

@JaneCollingwood - Oh, yay! Welcome back, Naomi!

@MalGuillory - I…seriously? Santina Marella? What?@LiLonnie replied - Long story, bad joke, tell you later.

@PrincessAudreyVictore - We could have had Sasha in the 29th slot. #JustSaying. 

@WhatmynameUmaThalassa - Seriously? I’d say ‘keep Santina Marella in 2009 where it belongs’ but…it didn’t.@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - The only good thing about this is Beth’s ‘I know where I’m hiding the body’ face.

@MalGuillory - Seriously? No Nia, No Ruby, barely any Liv, Sarah or Tamina? I’m disappointed. Fire & Desire never do though.

@PrincessAudreyVictore - #BowDownToTheQueen

@LiLonnie - She did it! Charlotte Flair did it! @LiLonnie - I just remembered she said she wanted to win the Rumble for her brother. BRB, crying again.

@MadMaddy - As if it were ever in doubt! #Bowdowntothequeen

@JaneCollingwood - Yay, Charlotte! Good job!

@BenBonhomme - Excellent work from all the WWE’s women. They should be very proud of their roster.@4HeartsEvie replied - They should be! And yet…@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa replied - Hey! That’s my line!

@4HeartsEvie - I could not possibly be prouder of Charlotte Flair. Well done. I wish the Bellas could be back but since they can’t.

@CrownPrinceChad - Excellent work from Charlotte. 

@JadeRasheed - *gay panic*

Bayley vs Lacey - 

@JaneCollingwood - I know she’s my favourite wrestler, but I don’t like evil Bayley. I miss the old one.@CarlosDeville replied - We all do. It’s okay.

@MalGuillory - Huh. Kinda thought they’d have Lacey win. She’s been getting pushed and Bayley….hasn’t.

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Bayley needed that win. Point blank.

@PrincessAudreyVictore - Good. She’ll still have the belt for Sasha when she gets back.

@CrownPrincessRuby - I feel bad for Lacey’s daughter but great work, Bayley!@PrincessAudreyVictore replied - I love Lacey Evans, but I have a feeling Bayley won’t keep her belt much longer… *eyes emoji*

@BenBonhomme - That’s too bad. I was kind of rooting for Lacey this time. Oh well. 

@CrownPrinceChad - Boooooooooreeeeeed.

 Bray Wyatt vs Daniel Bryan - 

@FreddieFacilier - YESSSS. Let’s go Fiend already!

@CeliaFacilier - YES, GET HIM WYATT!

@ArabellaUnderTheSea - COME ON DBRY! You’ve fought this clown before!

@MalGuillory  - Yeaaaaaaaaaaahhhh, kinda saw that coming.

@FreddieFacilier - Was that a heel look I saw on DBry? Because yes please.

@Celia - The Fiend won! The Fiend won! I’m so happy!

@BenBonhomme - WHO is going to stop the Fiend? We’re gonna need the Big Dog aren’t we?@PrincessAudreyVictore replied - We ALWAYS need the Big Dog, thank you. 

@Evie’sManagerDoug - If the Fiend’s going down, it’ll be at Mania. @JayRasheed replied - I agree. It’s too early.@CarlosDeville replied - Too EARLY? He only bothers to defend the belt at Pay-per-views. We don’t need two Bork Lasers here. @LiLonnie replied - That’s not entirely true.@CarlosDeville replied - It is on tv.@FreddieFacilier replied - Look, WWE needs a new horror character with Taker gone. Let me have this!@CarlosDeville replied - Okay, fair. I just wish he defended more.

 Becky vs Asuka - 

@LiLonnie - I’m dead. RIP me. Cremate me and put my ashes in the family temple. Cause of death - Asuka and Becky Lynch.@MalGuillory replied - She’s lying down on the floor and hasn’t moved for ten minutes. I think she’s really dead this time.@JayRasheed replied - RIP Lonnie I guess.@CrownPrinceChad replied - Does this mean the captaincy is open?@4HeartsEvie replied - RIP. 

@JayRasheed - #She’sTheMan

@JaneCollingwood - Awww! I wanted Asuka to win! Becky’s on a roll though. She looked great.

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - DAMN. Smacked the mist right out of her mouth!@HarryHook replied - Match of the night for sure!

@CrownPrincessRuby - What a match! I’m officially retiring now. There’s no point in staying, that was so good.@PrincessAnxellin replied - Uh, what about OUR TITLES???@CrownPrincessRuby replied - Oh, right. Retirement postponed. @BenBonhomme replied - Should I cancel your cake?@CrownPrincessRuby replied - Absolutely not! Anytime’s a good time for cake!

@MalGuillory - That kick to the face though. I *felt* that one.@4HeartsEvie replied - So did I! 

@4HeartsEvie - They were both so pretty! I love their gear. 

@JadeRasheed - *gay panics harder*@JayRasheed - She’s not joking. Her exact words right next to me - “Holy CRAP am I ever gay.”

@PrincessAudreyVictore - Well done ladies! Now, can you please stop killing my friend??? #RIPLonnie

@BenBonhomme - What a match! This was worth the wait! 

Men’s Rumble - 

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Watch them just feed the roster to Bork Laser.@GilGaston replied - I hope not! D: Will Lesnar be okay?@HarryHook replied - Gil…

@LiLonnie - I will not have words to describe how annoyed I will be if the point of this match is to feed the Rumble to Lesnar.

@JayRasheed - Damn. Even Mysterio and Kofi????@CarlosDeville - I WISH I was surprised.

@CrownPrincessRuby - THE DISRESPECT THE WWE KEEPS GIVING REY MYSTERIO DISGUSTS ME. FUCK. OFF. WITH THAT NOISE.@PrincessAnxellin replied - She just gave off the most swear words I have EVER heard her say in my living room. Aunt Cass would have a heart attack. 

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Yup. Women’s Rumble wins again. 3-0. Sorry guys, maybe next year booking won’t be a dick.

@HarryHook - FUCK YEAH MCINTYRE!

@CrownPrincessRuby - MCINTYRE AND RICOCHET JUST DID *THAT*

@CrownPrinceAziz - HA! Don’t sleep on Ricochet!

@PrincessAudreyVictore - FINALLY they got him out of there!@4HeartsEvie replied - Just in time for the last half too.

@MalGuillory - Holy shit will the guys get to actually wrestle??? Stay tuned.

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - So now that Lesnar’s 15 man long dick sucking’s over, we can start the RUMBLE! Finally!

@GilGaston - Brock Lesnar is SO COOL. I wish I could dominate like that. He tossed over like 15 guys!@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa replied - I like you better the way you are.@GilGaston replied - :D

@JayRasheed - GOOD. Now let’s goooooooo!

@LiLonnie - OMG.@LiLonnie - OMG. @LiLonnie - I cAN’t@LiLonnie - I caN’t beLieve 

@JayRasheed - Okay, so, Lonnie just burst into tears so I’m guessing this Edge guy’s important?

@MalGuillory - Uh, anyone want to explain why Lonnie won’t stop crying?@MalGuillory - WAIT. That’s the guy who had the same injury Paige did!@MalGuillory - AWESOME. Welcome back, Edge!

@BenBonhomme - Amazing! Welcome back, Edge!

@PrincessAudreyVictore - I don’t think I can tweet anymore, Lonnie’s digging her nails in my arm to every time something happens to Edge.

@LiLonnie - BE CAREFUL WITH HIS NECK OMG

@JayRasheed - Aw yeah! Bring on the Big Dog!

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - Sorry, Rollins, you deserved that ass kicking.@CarlosDeville replied - For real.

@JayRasheed - Double spears! Nice!

@LiLonnie - *incoherent wrestling fan screaming*

@HarryHook - I repeat - FUCK YEAH MCINTYRE@WhatsmynamedUmaThalassa retweeted this.

@JayRasheed - Oh come on. Big Dog should’ve had that covered.@PrincessAudreyVictore replied - I can only assume booking wanted someone new. Too bad. @PrincessAudreyVictore replied - I got my hopes up when the crowd was behind Roman.@JayRasheed replied - There’s always next year. He’ll get them then. 

@WhatsmynameUmaThalassa - A+ McIntyre. Match started slow, but it ended just right. 

@LiLonnie - Good job, Drew McIntyre! No complaints from me. 

@BenBonhomme - That was an awesome show! Well deserved, McIntyre. Well deserved wins all around. 

[krreader]

BTS scenario (College!AU) → being with their teacher.

pairing: student!bts x teacher!reader fandom: bts warnings: college!au ; non idol!au ; sex ; oral sex ; dirty talk ; student x teacher relationship ; language genre: smut ; crack ; fluff previous: x

a/n: aaah omg, tbh, I wanted to write a second part as well, so I’m kinda glad you requested it. ever since my jin fanfic, I really like the whole student x teacher trope lol. hope you like this ♥ (masterlist is in my description box)

kim seokjin

Graduation was usually not a day you wanted to hang out with your professors. Most of his fellow students were already on their way out, never to step foot into this university again.

But not him.

“Hey, Jin! You coming, or what?”

“I'll catch up with you later.. I'll have to do something first.”

They just shrugged, way too happy to leave this place to be interested in what the hell he had up his sleeve.

Jin made his way through the crowd, finding you standing somewhere at the side on your own.

Perfect.

He took one last deep breath and walked up to you, “Professor?”

“Seokjin,” you smiled from ear to ear, “Congratulations. I'm really proud of you.”

“Uh, thank you. I actually just wanted to give you these,” he handed you some flowers, his ears tinted red, “For taking such good care of me.”

“Aw, thank you, that is..-” but when you read the card, you immediately started laughing, “I don't think your mother would approve of me having the flowers she gave you.”

Fuck. He forgot to take out the fucking card. How stupid can one be..

“I'd gladly buy you some myself.. if you let me take you out,” he had waited so long to ask you this. He felt like it would only be right when he wasn't your student anymore, “Do you.. want to go out with me some time?”

“Is that another dare?”

“No. That's me being genuinely interested in you,” and even though he was still slightly embarrassed about the card situation, he became a little more confident as he saw that smile on your face grow.

“Well.. you're not my student anymore, so.. why not. I'd love to.”

min yoongi

Who would have thought that Yoongi would be upset over graduating.

A few semesters ago he would have been over the moon that the day had finally come. But then you had become his professor and he genuinely enjoyed being around you..

“Are you excited about leaving?” you must have caught him staring since you were by his side. And he had been too focused to even realize it. 

“Sure,” he lied, faking a smile as his eyes darted to your lips.

“Hm, not sure if I believe you,” you took a step towards him, your lips dangerously close to his ear, “Especially not with that in your pants.”

And as you walked away, he looked down on himself to find yet another boner in his pants that you had caused. Just like all the other 93 before.

But when he turned his head to look after you, you were biting your lip, winking and smiling and he just knew..

God, never had he been so fast in his life.

And never would he have suspected to have sex in his car with his now ex-teacher that night. But you did give him your number and you two did promise to go out soon.

Maybe graduation wasn't so bad after all.

jung hoseok

This was stupid and you both knew it. You knew in how much trouble you could get when people would find out about this relationship, yet you continued..

Hoseok didn't get any special treatment in class, you still gave him bad grades if he didn't study. But once class was over? Well..

“Fuck,” he grabbed a fistful of your hair as you continued to suck him off, the other hand of his pressed flat against your desk, trying to keep his knees from giving in.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered as you slowly got up, your fingers brushing over his cheek.

“You.. I want you, (Y/N).”

“What was that?” you tightened your grip around his dick, and he instantly moaned louder than he did before.

“I want you, professor.”

Yeah.. yeah, it was definitely stupid.

But so worth it.

kim namjoon

“Namjoon?” you smiled from ear to ear as you walked up to your ex-student on this conference, “What are you doing here?”

“Professor!” he couldn't help but hug you, both of you having developed an incredibly good relationship by the end of his last semester, mainly because you were the reason he was now having this amazing job, “I'm giving the speech tonight. They promoted me.”

“You..- oh my god, that is fantastic! I'm so proud of you!”

“Well, I've got you to thank for all this. If it hadn't been for you giving me that internship all those years ago, I wouldn't have any of this.”

“Aw, well, I'm just glad I was able to help. And you are incredibly talented and hardworking, so you deserve this.”

“I'd still like to make it up to you, if I may,” he hadn't seen you in years, yet he couldn't help but remember all the feelings he once had for you, “I'd love to take you out for coffee..”

He used to be your cute and smart student. Now he was this sexy and smart business man. And well, how the hell were you supposed to refuse him?

“I'd like that. A lot.”

park jimin

When you realized Jimin's grades were dropping, you had offered him private lessons. But giving him private lessons when you were actually the reason his grades were dropping had probably been a stupid idea.

Scratch that, it was definitely a stupid idea.

Because you could only stay away for so long when you had someone be so deeply in love with you. You would have lied if you had said you didn't like him in return.

And so here you were, both of you lying in your bed as he was holding you in his arms in the depth of the night, his fingers gently running up and down your naked arm.

“I love you,” he whispered against your forehead.

“I know,” you smiled, tilting your head back, so that you could look at him, “And I promise, once you graduate, we'll make it official.”

“My mother will be so happy that I bring home someone as smart as you,” he chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Not sure how mine is going to feel when I tell her you used to be a student, but.. I'm excited to meet your family. Really.”

Because despite all, you did fall in love with him too. And against all odds, you did want to spend the rest of your life with him.

kim taehyung

Taehyung had at least fifteen guy friends in his circle of friends that he would have guessed would end up having a relationship with a teacher.

The fact that he was now the one screwing you, was really not something he could comprehend.

He didn't even know how it had started, but here he now was, sitting on the chair in your office as you were riding him and all he could do was stare at you in awe.

“What?” you laughed, kissing him softly.

“I don't deserve you.”

“Oh, shut up.”

But he meant it.

Because even though he had thought you might just use him for sex, you didn't. You ended up loving him like he loved you. You treated him right, like he had always wanted to be treated and yet, you didn't give him any special treatment in class – not that he needed it. He was good enough.

And he knew one thing for sure.

As soon as he graduated, he would propose. Because you were it for him.

jeon jeongguk

“Come on, you can do this, Jeongguk,” he took one last look at himself in the rear view mirror of his car, brushing through his hair, before he saw you walk out of the university. Jeongguk grabbed the flowers, then opened the car door and almost ran towards you to catch you in time, “(Y/N)?”

First, you furrowed your eyebrows, not quite knowing who it was, until..- “Oh my god.. is that you Jeongguk?”

Jeon Jeongguk? The boy that used to have a major crush on you? That was him?

“I've changed a little,” he laughed bashfully.

“A little? Shit, you look like a completely different person. But.. you look fantastic.”

Bless, you liked how he turned out. That was good. Made this a lot easier.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out with me. I know it's been a few years and I don't even know if you're still single, but.. I'm not your student anymore and I've grown up, so I was just..-”

You put one finger over his lips and smiled, “I do. I'd love to go out with you.”

How the hell were you supposed to say no when he was looking like that?!

[nazariolahela]

Chapter 8: The Search Pt. 1

Pairing: none

Word Count: 2465

Rating: PG-13

Description: Riley settles back into her old life, while Maxwell arrives in New York to find his friend.

Notes: Constructive criticism welcome. Thanks for reading. (Apologies for this taking so long. I had to re-write it a few times because I wasn’t happy with it.)

Tags: @stopforamoment @museofbooks  @viktoriapetit 

Please let me know if you would like to be added. :)

Catch up here

Disclaimer: All original TRR characters used belong to Pixelberry. This story is only for entertainment purposes.

Riley stood by the baggage claim, waiting for her luggage to appear. While she waited, she pulled her phone out of her purse and turned it on.

“Ten new messages? What the hell?” she thought to herself.

Her pink suitcase finally appeared on the conveyor belt, and she slipped her phone into her pocket to retrieve it. Just as she lifted it off the belt, her phone pinged again. Rolling her eyes, she set the suitcase on the ground and reached for her phone to check her messages. The messages flashed on her lock screen and she instantly started tearing up.

Maxwell: Riley please don’t go. we’ll figure this out I promise. 😞

Maxwell: I don’t know if your phone is on but if you get this message please call me. ☎️

Drake: Brooks, it’s Drake. I’m sorry for everything. Maxwell just told me you’re going back to New York. Please reconsider.

Maxwell: Riley!!!!!!!! I don’t know if commercial airlines have wifi, but if you can, check your FB. I sent you a message. ✉️

Hana: Riley! Are you really going back to New York? Please say no.

Maxwell: OMG Riley! I just found your Instagram account! 📷 I sent you a message on that too, so please check it.

Hana: At least call me before you make any rash decisions. I need to speak with you.

Maxwell: Found your Twitter handle! Mine’s @thefullbeaumonty. Sliding into your DMs 🐦

Drake: We’re going to help you clear your name. I swear on it.

Maxwell: Since your phone is probably off and you don’t have wifi I’m just letting you know that I’m coming to get you.  🏃‍♂️ 

Maxwell: Just boarding the plane. New York here I come! ✈️

“Wait, what? He’s coming here?” she said out loud. People around her turned to look, then continued walking.

Staring at the phone, she contemplated texting him back, telling him not to bother. Just as she opened up the text message to reply, she heard her mother’s voice call out to her. She spotted Linda and made her way towards her, scooping her up in a bear hug.

“Welcome home, sweetheart. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mom.” The two women made their way out of the airport to the short-term parking. When they reached the car, she picked up her suitcase and tossed it into the backseat, before climbing into the passenger’s seat. Her mother walked around and entered on the drivers’ side.

“Are you hungry? There’s a new restaurant that opened a few blocks from the apartment.”

“No, I’m okay. I just want to go home.”

Linda nodded and put the car in drive. The two rode in silence until they were about a mile from home.

“Riley, are you okay?” Her mother asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine…”

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you.”

Riley took a deep breath, “I just feel like the last few months of my life were all a waste.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean quitting my job, and packing up to go to Cordonia. It was all for nothing. How could I have thought that was a good idea? How could I have been so naive to think that an actual prince would choose me for his bride?”

Linda sat quietly for a moment, then turned to her. “I think you did the right thing. I know it seems like you made the wrong decision now, but you took a chance on love and that’s never the wrong move.”

Riley turned to her mother, shocked, “But you were so against the idea when I left. What changed your mind?”

“Sweetie, I know how you felt...how you feel...about Liam. As much as I had my doubts about you going there, I knew it was the right thing for you, but I was too stubborn to let you live your own life. If your father were here, he’d scold me for not believing in you.”

Riley nodded. The car pulled up in front of their apartment and Riley reached for the door handle. Hesitating, she turned back to her mother. “Thank you for always having my back. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Of course, dear. I’m your mother, it’s what I do.”

***

Maxwell sat on the private plane, headed for New York. He wasn’t sure where he was going, but he knew he had to find Riley and bring her back to Cordonia before Liam and Madeleine's wedding. He utilized the plane’s wifi to Google search her and try to find anything that would help him. Lucky for him, she hadn’t updated any of her social media since she left Cordonia. Her Facebook page still listed the dive bar she worked at the night they met. He looked up the number and made a note to call them as soon as he landed. The pilot came on the intercom and announced that they were preparing to land at JFK. A few minutes later, he gathered his things and shot off a quick group text to his friends.

Maxwell: just landed in New York. Going to make a few phone calls and hopefully find our girl before tomorrow night. 👍🏻

Hana: That’s wonderful. Please keep us updated.

Drake: Do you know where you’re going?

Maxwell: gonna start at the bar she used to work at and go from there. wish me luck.🤞🏼

Hana: Good luck. Please bring her home

Drake: If anyone can find her, it’s you man

As he exited the plane, he looked around the airport and a wave of nostalgia washed over him. The last time he was here, he had no idea that throwing one of his best friends one last hoorah would lead to the events of the last few months. He chuckled to himself as he spotted the driver of the awaiting Rolls Royce and made a beeline for the vehicle.

“Good evening Mr. Beaumont. Welcome back to New York. Where to first?”

“East Broadway and Rutgers, my good man,” he said as he stepped into the limo.

The car took off from the airport and Maxwell pulled up the bar’s location on his phone. He remembered another waiter and a bar manager worked there, but not much else. As he tried to piece together the memories of that night, his phone pinged with a text message.

Hana: Just wanted to let you know that I may have accidentally told Liam that you were in New York. 🙊

“Damn it, Hana!” he muttered under his breath.

Maxwell: WTF Hana!! It was supposed to be a secret. Now he’s going to be worried. 😭

Hana: No! He’s happy! He said if you need anything to let him know. But he’s upset that you didn’t tell him. 😞

Maxwell: I couldn’t tell him. We don’t know who’s connected to the blackmailer and if it looks like he’s involved Riley could be in danger. 😱

Hana: You’re right. I just wish I could be there to help you. Maybe I can convince my parents to let me help you bring her back to Cordonia. I miss you guys. 🙈

Maxwell: We miss you too. After we get Riley back we’re coming for you!!! 🏃‍♂️

Hana: OMG! That would be amazing! 👏🏻

***

Riley walked through the hall to her bedroom, reflecting on her life before Cordonia. The minimum wage job, her crappy boss. All that changed in the span of a few months. She thought about the friends she had made and the moments she spent with Liam. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it with the back of her hand. She pushed the door open and stepped into her room. It looked just as she left it. The photos on the shelf, the clothes in the closet. All of it untouched, almost like a shrine. She tossed her suitcase on the bed and unzipped it. She started pulling clothes out of the suitcase when her phone pinged with a message. She tapped on the screen to see a new message from Hana.

Hana: Hey Riley. I don’t know if you’re avoiding me, but I miss you and I’m sorry for what happened. I hope you’re not angry with us.

She read the message and frowned. Why were they blaming themselves? How could any of them think they were at fault for this? 

Riley: Of course I’m not angry with you. You're not the ones who released the photos of me to the press. You're not the ones who had me thrown out of court. You're not the ones who chose Madeleine.

Hana: Please know Liam feels terrible about all this. I know it doesn't feel that way right now, but he loves you and said he'll do anything to bring you back. 

Riley: Tell him don't bother. He's moved on and it's time for me to do the same.

Hana: Riley...

Riley tossed the phone on the bed and continued unpacking. She was still in a stage of grieving over Madeleine and Liam’s engagement, and no matter what anyone said, she knew what they had was over. She tried to take her mind off it and focus on settling back into her old life. She thought about going back to the bar to beg for her job back. If she was going to be staying in New York for the foreseeable future, she would need a way to support herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Riley, honey. Are you in there?”

“Yeah, Mom. It’s open.”

Linda gently pushed the door open and poked her head inside. “You wanna go get a bite to eat?”

Riley looked at her suitcase, then back at her mother. “Actually, I’m not tha...” Just then, her stomach growled, contradicting what she was about to say. She rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Yeah sure, let’s go.”

***

As the Rolls pulled up outside the dive bar, Maxwell took a deep breath. He knew finding Riley wouldn’t be easy, but he figured starting from the beginning couldn’t hurt his chances. The driver exited the front seat and walked around to open his door. Maxwell stepped out and took in the sights of the bustling New York neighborhood. It was shortly after 7 p.m. and the sun was slowly setting behind the city skyline. People around him laughed and talked as they entered neighboring bars and restaurants to start their evening.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said to the driver as he made his way down the sidewalk to the door. He pulled it open and strode in confidently. A woman he didn’t recognize stood at the hostess stand and smiled at him.

“Good evening, sir. Table for one?”

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me out. I’m looking for someone who used to work here.”

The hostess cocked an eyebrow at him. “Uhm...let me see if Daniel can help you.”

She walked to the back to retrieve the one called Daniel. A few minutes later a familiar man strolled up, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Can I help you?” he asked, looking Maxwell up and down.

“Yeah, I’m looking for someone who used to work here and I was hoping you could help me out. Her name is Riley Brooks.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “Wow, I haven’t heard from her in months. She kind of just disappeared.”

“Yeah well, I was hoping you knew where she lived.”

“I do, but I went over there after she left. Her mom said she moved to some country called Coronia.”

“CorDOnia, and yeah she did. But she’s back in New York and I’m trying to find her.”

Daniel’s jaw dropped. “Wait, she’s back?! I can’t believe that heifer didn’t even call me!”

Maxwell’s face turned up in anger. “What did you call her?” he said, slamming both fists on the bar and leaning in towards Daniel menacingly.

Daniel’s face turned red as he inched away from the bar. “I...uh...s-sorry. I mean...I can’t believe she came back and didn’t let me know.” He sheepishly looked at the floor.

“Uh-huh...do you have her address or not?” Maxwell growled.

“Okay, okay! Let me see if I can find it.” Daniel ran towards the back office and retrieved a phone book. He flipped through the pages nervously until he stopped on the “B” page. “Let’s see, Braband, Bradley, Bradshaw, Bra…”

“Her. Name. Is. Brooks.” Maxwell said through gritted teeth.

“O-Okay, sorry,” Daniel stammered. “Okay, Brooks. Let’s see, there’s Aaron, Abby, Adam E., Adam O., Andrea, Arnold…”

“Ugh, screw this!” Maxwell snarled, ripping the phone book from Daniel’s hand. He tore a few pages out, tossed the book back on the bar, and stormed out.

When he reached the car, he scanned the pages until he got to the Ls. There were four L’s, three Lindas, an L.M. and two Rs listed. He figured one of these had to be her, so he started with the first address, punched it into his map app and held it up to the driver. “Take me to this address, please.”

The driver nodded and pulled out into traffic. Maxwell stared out the window as the buildings and people whizzed by. A few blocks later, the car came to a stop at a traffic light. He looked out the window as something familiar caught his eye. A tall woman with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes walking down the sidewalk with a short woman who looked like an older version of her. He knew that face anywhere. Before he could say anything, the light turned green and the car began to accelerate.

“Wait! Stop the car!” he cried to the driver. The vehicle came to an abrupt stop, causing his face to smash against the headrest. He leaped out of the car and tried to run across the street, only to find bumper-to-bumper traffic. Horns honked at him as we wove his way through the stream of vehicles, his eyes searching the sidewalk for the two women. When he made his way to the other side, his shoulders slumped. They could be in any of these buildings. He walked up and down the street, peering in storefront windows, looking for a glimpse of her. After five minutes, he sighed deeply and headed back to the car.

“Any luck, sir?” the driver asked, opening the door for him.

“No. Looks like I just missed her. Now that we know she possibly lives in this area, I can cross a few names off my list.”

“Where to now, sir?”

“I guess we’ll go back to the hotel. If I’m going to spend all day tomorrow looking for her, I need a good night’s sleep.”