#can we just pretend this was a professional photo they made up after the wedding

[myplace2fangirl]

They’ve loved each other for over 15 years.

[dracoxsworld]

ARRANGED - Draco M. X Reader

PART 4 - The Library

CONTENT WARNING: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE TOWARDS READER. IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW IS IN A DOMESTIC VIOLENCE SITUATION, PLEASE CALL 800-799-7233. OR, GO TO THE HOTLINE.ORG YOU ARE NOT ALONE. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU THIS IS TRIGGERING.

After the kiss, you and Draco just talked, about everything. Your childhood, life before and after Hogwarts, who you initially thought you’d be set to marry.

“Imagine if you’d have to marry Potter.” Draco chuckled. You rolled your eyes. “Potter happens to be my friend, still.” You commented. Draco looked at you in disgust. “For pity?” He asked. “Malfoy!” You laughed, hitting his arm.

“You know, I can technically call you Malfoy, too.” Draco said, raising his eyebrows.

“Shit. Yeah we are married, huh.” You said. You hadn’t really let it set in that you were officially Y/N Malfoy.

“You know, I don’t mind you being my wife, despite the whole difference in beliefs thing.” Draco admitted. You were surprised.

“You mean to tell me that the Draco Malfoy doesn’t completely hate me?”

“I never said I hated you, not those specific words, anyway.”

“Draco, when I arrived at the Manor yesterday, after hours of being dolled up, you looked at me and said ‘she’ll do’. That’s pretty insulting.” You said. It did kind of hurt your feelings, you weren’t sure why. You never cared about Draco’s opinion before.

“That’s not insulting! I was stating that you were do-able!” Draco said defensively. You raised your brows at him, specifically when he said ‘do-able’. Your facial expression made him shake his head when he thought about what he had said. “I mean— You looked great, Y/N.” Draco said looking into your eyes.

“Does that still mean I’m ‘do-able’?” You asked unimpressed by his confession.

“Please, take me seriously.” Draco begged, taking your hands in his. His hands were cold, but strong. His blue veins were very visible through his pale skin. “Go on, I’ll take you seriously” You said, with your hand on your chest to show your honesty.

“You’ve always been beautiful, Y/N.” Draco said slowly. “Yesterday, at our wedding, when you arrived at the manor, even in school."

You looked at him and said nothing. He continued, "You've always been so beautiful."

"Is this a prank." You said doubtful. Draco looked offended. "Hey! I'm trying to be sincere, here." You shrugged. "You hate me, you always have."

"I do not hate you!" Draco said, getting up from the bed. "Okay, okay, relax." You said, grasping his hand and bringing you back to you.

"If I hated you I wouldn't have kissed you." Draco pouted.

You stare at the wall for a second, you get lost in your thoughts. Draco seems to notice. "What's on your mind?" He asked you.

"I imagined my life to go so much differently." You said. "Now I'm here, I woke up handcuffed to a bed, and not because I had fun the night before, either." You joked. Draco's pale face suddenly got very pink very quickly. "And married." You added, ignoring his reaction.

"I'm sorry." Draco said quietly.

-

The next few days consisted of photos of you and Draco in the Daily Prophet, both professional photos taken of you both as well as paparazzi photos, of course- when you were out of the manor you were heavily guarded. Not to protect you both but to ensure you won't escape.

At first, you both were told to pretend to enjoy each others company for the cameras, but eventually you didn't have to pretend. The more you were with Draco the more of the other sides of him came out of hiding. Draco's biggest fear is spiders, he loves fruit pie, (specifically apple) and he has an unusual amount of knowledge about all flowers. What they are, what regions they grow in, what colors they typically are, etc.

The paparazzi snapped a photo of you both on a blanket in a field, having a picnic. It was the first actual date you both could be on (Guards of course being nearby, but gave you a reasonable amount of distance.)

In the moving picture in the Daily Prophet, you and Draco are seen studying a book he had brought. Draco had shown you all the flowers in the field in the book.

"How do you know all of these things?" You asked him while he was reading a very long paragraph about Foxgloves.

"Lots of lonely days in the Manor, mother has a huge garden, I found some old books about the flowers she had, and I decided that this would be my hobby." He explained, looking at you, smiling.

He tucked a Dahlia flower behind your ear. Your face was about as red as the petals. "You're very cute when you blush." He said, brushing your hair out of your face, as it was blowing in the wind.

Nicholas came to your mind every once in a while. You knew he was reading the Daily Prophet, you knew he was seeing the pictures of you and Draco. You wondered what he was thinking, if he was still waiting for you.

Of course, you loved him. He was going to be the person you spent the rest of your life with. But things were complicated, much more than they were when you both were young, sneaking around Hogwarts at night, holding hands.

You and Draco went into a library once, Draco went to get a book specifically about what flowers you can make tea with- he wouldn't shut up about it the entire way there.

"Y/N! Why didn't I even think about it?" Draco exclaimed, practically running to the library once it was in your field of vision, he grabbed your hand and sprinted. "Draco!" You laughed. He was so excited. It was heart warming almost, to see him this way.

You arrived to the library, it smelled like violets and potpourri. Very sweet, and lovely. "Dray, I am going to look for fantasy books to read tonight, okay?" You said sweetly, He turned towards you. "Dray?" He said "When did you start calling me that?" He said, smiling down at you. You blushed. "Um, right now, I suppose." You said, not able to look at him without your cheeks hurting from you blushing. He cupped your sweet, freckled face in his hands and planted a kiss on your lips.

This was your second kiss. You both felt too awkward yet to show too much affection, it took time. Holding hands was one thing, but kissing felt personal, it felt like something that should be handled with extreme care. But every time you both did, you could feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"You're very cute, pick out some books, then meet me in the flora section, in the right corner." Draco said softly, his thumb rubbing your cheek. You nodded, and he went to his corner, probably having a ball looking for the perfect book to study.

You were browsing the fantasy section, your finger running along the spines of the books on the shelves, when you hear the bell to the door ring.

"Y/N!" said a familiar voice. You turn around and your eyes widened. It was Nicholas. He ran up to you and grabbed you by the waist, picked you up and spun you in a circle. You felt a ball of anxiety in your stomach, but you gave him a small "Hi."

He looked the same, same reddish-brown hair, same freckled, same brown eyes. "I have missed you, so so much." He said, taking your hands in his. "You hair has gotten so long, it's so beautiful." He said, examining your hair. "yeah, I suppose it has, haha." You said nervously. Nicholas looked at you with a puzzled look. "Well, how have you been?" He asked with a slight tone shift. "Um," You start, and do a quick look behind you, to make sure Draco wasn't coming. "You know, just here, picking out a fantasy book." You said, your thumb pointing behind you at the shelves. "I'm doing great, if you were wondering." Nicholas said, a bit snarky, seemingly ignoring what you had said.

"I'm sorry, Nicholas I-"

"No, shit, I'm sorry Y/N. You must be miserable. Stuck with that horrible man, my sweet girl." He said, feeling guilty. He came up to you to embrace you, which you again, awkwardly returned. "Horrible?" You asked him. "In fact, I'm surprised he even let you come to the library."

"Well, Draco isn't really-"

"In fact, maybe we can run, Y/N. This is perfect! We can be together." Nicholas said exclaimed. You quickly turned around, making sure Draco didn't hear, and was coming.

"Nicholas.." You said, quietly, but it was no good. He was rambling about how dumfounded Draco would be when he saw you with him. "Oh, Y/N, I love you." Nicholas said, looking at you.

You paused. It was never hard for you to say 'I love you' to Nicholas, you both said it to each other all the time. But this time, you just couldn't.

"Y/N." Nicholas said, stepping closer to you. "We can be together again, like how we were meant to be." He grabbed you gently by the back of your neck, and pulled you closer to him and gently kissed you. You softly pushed him away. He looked at you, even more puzzled than before. "Nicholas, listen to me. You have to leave." You said, calmly.

"You mean, we have to leave, right?" Nicholas said, sternly. "Nicholas- it's complicated.." You said, your eyes looking at the floor.

Nicholas face was getting red.

"What's complicated? You love me."

You just looked at him. "You need to go, please."

"This is bullshit." Nicholas said, pushing you slightly.

"Nicholas, please-"

"No, this is bullshit!" He yelled. He pushed you again, this time you his the book shelf. "Nicholas!" you said, tears forming in your eyes.

"You're fucking dead to me." Nicholas said, looking at you in your eyes. "You promised we'd be together. You're a fucking whore." He spat at you. You looked at him, your face had gone white, you felt like you were going to be sick.

"Y/N?" You heard Draco's voice. You wanted to call for him, but you couldn't speak. Nicholas was towering over you, gripping your shoulders. You knew there'd be bruises from where he gripped them.

Draco came our of the corner, holding 2 books, he immediately dropped them. You looked at him, nervous. Pleading for help with your eyes.

"Get your hands off of her." Draco demanded.

Nicholas pushed himself off of you.

"Y/N, come here, please." Draco said, strictly, but still sweetly. You did as you were told, Draco led you to be behind him.

"Nicholas, leave." Draco declared. "I highly suggest you do."

"Fine, you can have her. But one day she'll turn her back on you. After all of these years, Y/N?"

"You must be pretty boring if she can fall in love with me in 2 months after you being with her for years." Draco said, smirking. You pursed your lips behind Draco, trying not to laugh, your anxiety and nerves going away for a second.

"You're lucky your Slytherin prince came to save you, Y/N." Nicholas stated.

"I said leave." Draco demanded one last time. Stepping closer to Nicholas.

With a few more huffs and puffs, you heard the door bell ring again, and Nicholas was gone.

Draco faced you, you couldn't even make eye contact with him. You held back a majority of your tears, but they flooded out.

"Hey, hey. You're safe." Draco cooed. He pulled you into a hug, stroking the back of your head.

"I will never let him hurt you."

[c-optimistic]

Soulmate au?

i.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Kara asks suddenly one day. They’re in Lena’s office, having a rather late lunch, and had lapsed into a rather awkward silence when Kara blurts out her question.

(Mending friendships is slow, tedious work.

But much like all her other goals, Lena doggedly pursues it, determined to see it through.)

“No, I’m a scientist,” Lena laughs, putting her fork down. “Why do you ask? Do you think you found your soulmate?”

She doesn’t know why she asks. She doesn’t want the answer to that. She doesn’t want to hear about Kara’s dating life. Ask her why, and she’d vehemently deny knowing the reason, but the truth is that the thought of Kara with someone else sends poisonous shards through Lena’s chest, twists her all up inside, and leaves her feeling like her world has crashed around her.

(It’s not dramatic at all.)

“What? No!” Kara says to Lena’s ultimate relief. “No, it’s for an article.”

“You’re writing about soulmates?”

“Well, not exactly. There’s this woman here in National City who claims she can find your soulmate.”

“Oh?” Lena says, raising an eyebrow. Kara nods.

“Apparently, she can see the three ‘Marks’ of soulmates.” When Lena just eyes Kara skeptically, Kara grins and shrugs. “I’m serious! She claims there’s the Mark of Pain, the Mark of Skin, and the Mark of String.”

“...right,” Lena says, stretching out the word and smiling when Kara laughs. “So how does it work?”

“Well, I’ve only talked to her on the phone. But she says soulmates are attached in different ways. And she can sense it. Even if we ordinary people can’t. Like, her string theory—”

“—I don’t think that’s what the string theory is, Kara,” Lena interrupts, but Kara’s on a roll.

“I know, I know. But she says she can see it. Red thread, tied from one person to another. Or tattoos on people’s skin that matches in some way, and only she can see.” Kara shrugs. “She has a pretty good Yelp rating. Everyone says she’s gotten it right.”

“That seems more like confirmation bias than anything. And of course she’s making money off this.”

Kara smiles warmly at her, her eyes soft behind the glasses she didn’t technically need. She looks at Lena in a way that makes Lena heart skip a beat or two, that makes her momentarily forget about the past year of difficulty between them. Suddenly, she’s only looking at her best friend, and she’s a little bit in love.

“So you don’t believe in soulmates?” Kara confirms, her smile turning wistful.

“Why? Do you?” She doesn’t know why she asks. She doesn’t really want to know the answer, sure that any response Kara gives will just be a kick to the chest. Another crack in her heart.

She really wishes she hadn’t asked.

“I don’t know,” Kara responds after a short pause, clearly giving it a lot of thought. “But I hope soulmates do exist.” Kara lets out a laugh. “Maybe this woman can lead me to mine.”

(And there it is, that kick to the chest and crack in her heart she expected.)

Lena looks away, pretends to be startled by the time, but even as Kara gathers her things to leave, she secures Lena’s promise to look into this mystical soulmate finder together.

It’s a promise Lena is sure she’s going to regret.

ii. pain

“So, it’s weird that she refuses to see us in person, right?” Lena asks, looking to Alex for some support, which the elder Danvers is only too happy to give. “It’s odd. Why doesn’t she meet us in person?”

Kara shoots them both an impatient look, clearly not impressed with their negativity. “She doesn’t want to be affected by our energies while she’s working,” she explains, checking her phone before looking up and making sure they are at the right place.

“Our energies?” Alex asks dubiously, making a face at Lena behind Kara’s back. She times it poorly; before she can school her features into a neutral expression, Kara has turned to look at them again, her eyes narrowing.

“Being skeptical and being dismissive are two very different things,” Kara scolds them, sounding just a bit testy. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping an open mind, even about things you don’t or can’t understand.”

Alex opens her mouth, clearly about to start a debate, but Lena butts in, silencing Alex with a hand on her shoulder and giving Kara a small, placating smile. “You’re right, we’re sorry. We’ll behave,” she says, squeezing Alex’s shoulder until she lets out a grunt in the affirmative. When Kara is seemingly satisfied, nodding at them briskly, she continues leading them down the street, eyes on the storefronts. Alex, however, elbowed Lena hard the second Kara’s back was turned.

“What’s wrong with you?” she hisses, elbowing Lena again. “We’ll behave?”

“She’s right, there’s plenty we don’t understand, plenty out there in the universe we can’t make sense of, so maybe keeping an open mind isn’t the worst thing—”

“—oh, shut up, you know very well you’re only taking her side for one reason, and—”

“I can hear you two, you know,” Kara says loudly, interrupting their hushed argument. “Also, we’re here.”

She stops and looks up at the rundown tea shop, nestled between an old record store that had clearly seen better days, and a very busy video game and comic book store. Lena tugs on her coat when a few kids eye her as they enter the store, ducking their heads together and beginning to whisper.

“All right, well explain where here is,” Alex says, stepping closer to her sister. “You haven’t actually explained anything.”

Kara nods, gesturing for them to enter the tea shop, the three of them finding an empty table and huddling around it, perching on tiny, uncomfortable chairs. The tea shop is, for the most part, a place Lena would never have entered on her own volition. It’s frilly and pink, photos of cats everywhere, with sticky tables and stifling heat. Yet, there’s also an odd comfort to the place: it smells heavenly, the aroma of freshly brewed tea mixing with a variety of sweets, all neatly arranged at the display next to the register. The customers also look like they’re at home, nestled in corners reading books, tapping away on computers, and even on what looks to be a very engaging date.

It’s nice. Even if she’s skeptical of the reason they came here, she’s glad she’s come across this place. She thinks she may even come by again, especially if their tea is any good.

“So apparently, there are two people who work here who are soulmates,” Kara explains, motioning for Alex and Lena to lean towards her. Lena finds herself swallowing a little when the aroma of the tea shop is mixed with Kara’s heavenly scent. Her mind goes a little fuzzy, and she knows she has a silly expression on her face because Alex is smirking at her. Kara, of course, focused on work and on her explanation, notices nothing. “They have the Mark of Pain. We’re here to observe, see if they actually can feel each other’s pain.”

“I don’t know if I’d like that one,” Alex says conversationally, leaning back in her rickety chair and eyeing the register and the zoned-out employee behind it. “I mean, can you imagine? In my line of work? Kelly would always be in pain.”

“You think Kelly is your soulmate?” Lena asks, a little surprised by the easy way Alex has said it. Like it’s a fact. Like it’s just true. “What about Maggie? How do you know?”

“Who says you have to have one soulmate?” Alex shoots back, shrugging. “Kara’s my soulmate too. Platonically, of course. You, even.” She grins when Lena’s eyes widen, when she opens and closes her mouth wordlessly, confused and overwhelmed and unsure. “What? Just because I don’t believe in this mystic lady doesn’t mean I don’t believe in the concept of soulmates. But who says it has to be romantic? Or that it’s just one person?”

“So what is it?”

“People in your life who enter it and just...stay. Your found family. Chosen family.” She looks away from the employee at the register and smiles at Kara. “Kara agrees. Right?”

Kara, who has pulled out her notebook and has taken a few notes down about the employee at the register, nods distractedly. “We were drunk when we came up with this,” she explains, meeting Lena’s eyes and blushing slightly for whatever reason. “But it just seems—well, it seems silly to think that in the entire universe there’s one person who’d be your perfect partner. That’s also really sad,” she mumbles. “If that were true, who’s to say my soulmate didn’t die with Krypton?” She shrugs awkwardly. “I think sometimes people are just connected. Meant to be in each other’s life. In whatever form that may be.” Kara looks at Lena carefully, her mouth opening and her cheeks reddening further. “Like—” But Lena doesn’t get to hear what Kara wants to say. At that moment, another employee comes in from the back entrance, looking slightly distracted, eyes on the employee behind the register.

“Look,” Alex says suddenly, sitting up straighter as the employee walks by, bumping into a table roughly. “Whoa,” she says, and Lena silently agrees.

Because just as the employee mumbles a curse and rubs their side, blushing furiously and looking embarrassed, the zoned-out employee at the register winces in pain, rubbing that same spot.

A point, Lena thinks, in the strange mystic woman’s favor.

iii. skin

Lena begins researching the strange mystic woman in earnest.

(In her free time, far away from Kara’s eyes or Alex’s judgment.)

Everything about her is frustratingly perfect—perfect enough that Lena is suspicious. The woman’s website is well-made and professional, littered with testimonials and photos of weddings. There are a range of services with a range of prices, and no matter how much Lena digs, she doesn’t see a single bad thing about the woman.

It’s the internet, she thinks as she scrolls through Google reviews, grimacing at the emojis that filled each comment. Surely someone, somewhere would use the anonymity to their advantage to say something less than complimentary.

No one is perfect, Lena thinks to herself. Which means one of two things: this woman is a fraud (more likely) or she has some sort of ability to force people to write nice things about her on the internet (Lena’s had a few drinks when this becomes a plausible option to her).

She doesn’t remember dialing the number on the website, but the next thing she knows, someone with an airy voice is on the other end, asking her if she’s ready to meet her soulmate.

“You’re a fraud, did you know that?” Lena asks. “It’s cruel what you’re doing, really. Telling people there’s someone perfect out there who loves them for them. That’s unkind.”

“Oh, Lena!” the woman says, the airy tone dropping for a moment. “I mean,” she continues, the affectation back, “I’ve been expecting a call from you, Lena Luthor.”

“Oh, have you? Can you see the future as well as the red string connecting people?”

The woman chuckles, and she sounds vaguely familiar. Lena’s drunk mind chalks it up to being drunk. “I can’t see the future,” she says, sounding amused. “I just knew you would contact me after Kara Danvers began her article on my business.”

“Oh?” Lena mutters sarcastically.

“The answer to your question is yes,” she says, and Lena chokes on nothing.

“I didn’t ask a question. The ‘oh’ was rhetorical.”

“No, Lena Luthor, the question you called me to ask. I’ll give it to you, free of charge: yes.”

“I don’t have a question,” Lena denies, not liking the way the woman on the other end of the phone laughs. “Is this how you tricked the others? Tell them what they want to hear, and they write you obnoxiously positive reviews?”

“So you admit it’s what you wanted to hear,” the woman shoots back with glee, that stupid tone gone, and for the second time, Lena swears she knows this voice. “I mean,” she clears her throat, “I haven’t tricked anyone. I just tell people what I see. Didn’t you see the truth at the tea shop?”

“I think there’s a perfectly logical explanation for that,” Lena argues. “Phantom pains, an old bruise, sympathetic—”

“—okay, you’re skeptical,” the woman interrupts, “I understand. What if I show you a second example?”

Lena thinks about it for a moment. “Fine. But on my terms. I want you to find Jess’s soulmate.” She’s just drunk enough that this seems like a wonderful idea. On the other end of the phone, the woman sounds like she’s hacking up a lung.

“Your secretary?” she asks incredulously, once again sounding familiar.

“How did you—”

“—okay, I will do this,” the woman interrupts, rushing to speak. “In two days, you will be able to see her Mark as well as the Mark of her soulmate, just like I do.”

“That makes no sense, what are you—” But she never finishes her sentence. The woman hangs up, leaving Lena looking at her phone, trying to blink away her shock.

By the time she wakes up the following morning, groaning at her hangover and nearly telling Kara she loves her when the reporter shows up to her apartment with coffee and pastries, Lena’s forgotten all about the call.

///

Jess lingers every time she steps into Lena’s office. She eyes Lena oddly, stares at her hands, and shifts awkwardly on her feet. After the third time, Lena rolls her eyes, sets her pen down, and gives Jess her full attention.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No!” Jess says immediately, then grimaces. “Well, yes. But nothing bad. Not really.” Lena waits her out, knowing Jess will get to the point eventually. “My partner and I, well, we had plans this weekend. We’re supposed to leave straight from work, so I was—”

“—oh, right. Your time off. Yes, of course, feel free to leave early.” She picks up her pen, thinking this is the end of the conversation.

“Um, actually Ms. Luthor, I was wondering if you’d be willing to meet him.”

“Meet who?” Lena asks distractedly.

“My partner.” Something must show on Lena’s face when she drops her pen a second time and looks up at Jess, because she hurries to explain. “He’s a huge fan of your work. And he’s a big part of my life. I’d like you to meet him. If you can.” She tacks on the last three words almost as an afterthought, not quite meeting Lena’s eyes.

“Yes, of course. We can—”

“—wonderful, he’s right outside,” Jess says, smiling wide, rushing out of Lena’s office. A moment later, she returns, a tall, charming looking man following close behind.

She introduces them, and for the next hour, they chat amicably, discussing Lena’s work and Jess’s exceptionalism, and the weekend getaway plans. Except, Lena’s not quite sure she retains any of the information she gleans from the conversation—in fact, if you asked her, she couldn’t even remember if Jess had ever mentioned where she and her partner were even going.

Because when Jess’s partner reaches out to shake Lena’s hand, his sleeve rides up just slightly, revealing a small tattoo with Jess’s name on the inside of his wrist.

Lena doesn’t need to see a similar tattoo, with Jess’s partner’s name, on the inside of Jess’s wrist for her to realize what she’s come across.

“Those tattoos are quite nice,” Lena says when they get up to leave, Jess’s partner leaving her office first. “The artist who did them is quite talented.”

Jess gives Lena an odd look. “I’m sorry, Ms. Luthor,” she says, “what tattoo?”

Lena gestures to Jess’s wrist, but when she looks down, the mark is gone.

And that is a second point in the mystic woman’s favor.

iv. string

Lena absolutely, positively, without a single shred of doubt, does not believe in soulmates. The concept is ludicrous. To think that in a massive and constantly expanding universe, the atoms that make her are somehow destined to be near the atoms that make up someone else is an entirely ridiculous conclusion. She does not believe in the concept of a perfect partner, of someone she is meant to be with, of an individual to whom she is forever connected.

(And to be quite frank, there’s a bit of fear too. She doesn’t want soulmates to exist. For one, she’s worried about the prospect that the universe would pay back her family’s misdeeds by forever ensuring Lena does not have a soulmate. And for another, the far more terrifying option, she does have a soulmate, and that poor soul is bound to her of all people.

What an awful, horrible fate—nothing she’d wish on her worst enemy, least of all the person she’s supposedly destined to be with.)

Lena does not believe in soulmates. She doesn’t.

What she does believe in is Kara.

(Kara, who had her back from the day they met. Kara, who had saved her life more than once. Kara, who made mistakes—just like Lena—but had met Lena halfway and worked hard to fix things between them. Kara, who for all her flaws and missteps, is Lena’s best friend in the world, the one person who has seen Lena for Lena, from the moment they first locked eyes.

Kara, who Lena is hopelessly in love with; Kara, who has never shown interest in women; Kara, who has recently taken up the really rather unfortunate habit of telling Lena she loves her every chance she gets.

And then there’s Lena, who swallows down what she wants to say and instead smiles bitterly as she intones, “I love you too, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”)

Lena is pretty smart. She can say so without sounding obnoxious about it, because it’s a generally accepted fact. She’s pretty smart, and she was dumb enough to fall in love with someone who could never love her back the same way. She rather thinks that if soulmates are indeed real, then that wouldn’t have been possible. Then again, perhaps that’s not entirely true.

(She thinks about Alex’s notion of what soulmates are or could be, of Kara’s thoughts on connection, and she thinks that maybe—even if she wants it to—she isn’t meant to be with Kara romantically. If there’s anyone in her life who is her family, anyone Lena has chosen, anyone she has picked again and again and again, it’s Kara.

It will always, romantically or not, be Kara.

And if that’s not the definition of a soulmate, Lena’s not quite sure what is.)

For the second time in less than a week, Lena finds herself dialing a number from a well-maintained website.

“Lena Luthor,” the airy voice says as soon as she picks up. “I admit I’m surprised you’re calling. I gave you proof and your answer. What more can you need?”

“These soulmates you find,” Lena says, trying not to let her disappointment seep into her tone too much, “have you ever thought maybe you’re matching people who aren’t meant to be together romantically?”

The mystical woman makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a snort of disbelief and a huff of amusement. “You’re—wow,” she says, dropping the silly tone, and if her voice was just a tiny bit higher, Lena would swear it was— “Listen. Yes, platonic soulmates are a thing. They’re great. We love them. Some people only have platonic soulmates. But you are not platonic soulmates with—”

“—yes but how do you know something like that, that seems hard to—”

“—it’s like talking to a brick wall,” the woman interrupts, and Lena can hear some sort of scuffle from the other end, as if someone is trying to pull the phone out of the woman’s grasp. “Look,” the woman says after a second, sounding a bit out of breath, “I’m going to tell you something I have never told anyone else. Of the three Marks, the most clear and obvious sign of two people belonging romantically together is the Mark of String.” The woman pauses, and Lena would almost swear that there’s someone else speaking to her. “Here’s what you should do. And I do this free of charge for you, because I’m highly invested in this,” she chuckles as if this is a great joke and then barrels on, “so listen carefully. Tonight, go see the woman you love. Spend the night. If you wake up with a red string tied from your pinky to hers, then you can rest assured she’s the one.”

“I don’t know if—”

“—Lena,” the woman admonishes, and Lena frowns, finally recognizing the voice. “Trust me on this.”

She goes through with it, trusting the not-so-mystical woman.

Except, when Kara sneaks towards the bed she gallantly gave up for Lena, a piece of red thread hanging from her hand, Lena sits up and clicks on the bedside table light.

“You have a lot of explaining to do,” Lena tells Kara.

v.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, Kara sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, and Lena trying hard (and failing) to act relaxed.

“So?” she prods, gesturing to the red thread still tied to Kara’s pinky finger. “Want to explain your practical joke?”

“Joke?” Kara says in shock, shaking her head immediately. “No, Lena, it’s not a joke. Not even a little bit.”

Lena’s heart skips a few beats at that, but she maintains an impassive expression. “I don’t understand then. Why would you—”

“—remember a few months back, when I told you I loved you for the first time?” Kara interrupts, jumping to her feet and pacing in front of the couch. She doesn’t wait for Lena to respond. “It took me weeks to gather the courage to tell you. And I’d memorized the whole speech, and at the end you just looked at me like I was speaking to someone else. You told me you loved me as a friend.”

“Right, because you meant it as friends, you…” Lena trails off. “Wait.”

An odd look passes over Kara’s face, something like amusement and exasperation. “Alex told me that I needed to be direct with you. But I—even when I tried, it was like you didn’t hear me.”

(Lena thinks back to all the times Kara had said I love you and she wonders if she’s just heard what she expected to hear and not what Kara was actually trying to say.

Her heart begins to pound in her chest at the very possibility.

Did Kara really....?)

“So what? You decided to recruit Nia to pretend to be a mystical woman? To prove what exactly?”

Kara, surprisingly, looks smug. “You recognized her. I knew it. She was way off script on the phone call, and I tried to get her off the phone but she—”

“—Kara, focus. So the whole soulmate thing was fake?”

Kara winces at that. “Well. Yes, technically.” She stills, coming to a stop several feet in front of Lena. “I asked a few people to help out.”

“Wait, so the two people in the tea shop…” Lena trails off, eyes wide.

“Right, two DEO agents. They should definitely look into acting as a career, I mean they had me convinced, and I knew it was fake—”

“—and Jess?” Lena asks, feeling vaguely overwhelmed.

“Special temporary tattoos made by the DEO, easy to rub off, for both her and her partner.” When Lena is silent a touch too long, Kara rushes to explain. “I mean, it was very hard to convince her to do it. She’s incredibly protective of you, she deserves some kind of raise.”

“She does,” Lena agrees absently, getting to her feet and gesturing towards the red string in Kara’s hand. “And this?”

“We weren’t supposed to get to this. I’d hoped the first two would convince you Nia could honestly see soulmates. I was going to tie it to your pinky. The other end would be connected to me, of course,” she raises her hand with an awkward wave. “But you, um. Caught me.”

Lena bites her lip, marvelling at the sheer amount of work Kara and the others put into this. “Who made the websites? They were perfect.”

“Brainy made them,” Kara explains, a frown appearing on her lips and a crease forming between her brows. “Though I guess he made it too well, since you were suspicious of it.”

“Kara, I—” Lena’s not sure what she wants to say, and she’s glad when Kara interrupts her, taking a step closer, looking at her with an earnest expression.

“Listen,” she says, determination etched onto her features. “I love you. In a romantic way. And if there are soulmates out there, then you’re mine. That’s all this was.”

Lena feels tears well up in her eyes, blurring her vision, and she wants to duck her head, to hide, but Kara is there and saying everything she’s ever wanted to hear, and so instead she just closes the last of the distance between them and wraps her arms around Kara, holding her close, face burrowing into Kara’s neck. “All of this just to say I love you seems a bit dramatic,” she whispers, feeling Kara’s arms go around her waist, clutching her tighter.

“I figured you’d need something dramatic to believe it’s true,” Kara jokes, loosening her hold just a bit so that she can pull back and look at Lena.

“You’re my soulmate too, you know. If there are things like that out there. It was always just you.”

Kara grins brilliantly at her, pressing their foreheads together. “Finally,” she whispers.

[writerofthecourt]

the rhyme and reason for lying

pairing: suna rintarou x reader

summary: when you and your husband are called to your daughter’s school for a meeting with the principal, the last thing you were expecting to hear was that she had punched a classmate

warning: time skip spoilers

a/n: here you go, anon. this was a request from my 200 followers event. thank you to my followers for your continued support of this blog and my writing!

“Rin, can you please stop scrolling on your phone and help me clean up the house?” you asked with an annoyed glare from across the living room.

It was a calm Monday morning. The sky was clear, and the weather was beautiful. Today also happened to be a rare day off from volleyball practice for your husband, so you thought it would be a great idea for the two of you to get some chores done around the house. However, the prospect of getting Suna to even help you was beginning to seem more arduous than the actual chores themselves.

“Rin,” you repeated with an unmistakable tone of diminishing patience.

Picking up on your anger, Suna silently placed his phone on the coffee table and got up from the couch to go wash the dishes from today’s breakfast. After being married to you for so long, he knew when to stop testing your patience.

“That’s what I thought,” you said to yourself, a victorious smirk now plastered on your face.

Turning your attention back to the shelf that you were cleaning, you made sure not to knock over any of the framed photos that were in your way. There were a few photos from high school, family vacations, and your wedding day.

You paused to smile before you picked up a particularly lovely photo. It was from two summers ago at a tanabata festival. Dressed in matching yukatas and standing under the glow of various paper lanterns, you thought it was a perfect family photo.

Your reminiscing was soon cut short, as the house phone started to ring. Putting the photo back down, you went to answer the phone.

“Suna residence,” you greeted with practised ease. “Yes…oh, well…all right, we’ll be there soon. Yes, goodbye.”

“Who was it?” Suna questioned as he exited the kitchen, finished with his task of washing the dishes.

“It was Suzune’s school,” you replied with a worried expression on your face. “Apparently, she got into a fight?”

“What?” Suna asked, his eyes easily giving away his disbelief. “No way. Not our Suzune.”

“Yes, well, the principal wants to see us now,” you explained as you hurried to get your purse and put on your shoes.

After grabbing his phone and the car keys, Suna joined you at the genkan to also put on his shoes. “Did she at least win?”

“Not now, Rin,” you said with an exasperated sigh before turning away with a proud and subtle smile. “…But yeah, I think so.”

Suna only smirked. “Nice.”

As the two of you drove down to Suzune’s school, a thousand questions ran through your head. What could have possibly happened to set off your mild-mannered Suzune? For the most part, she was a calm and quiet child, similar to her father in many ways. Nevertheless, after arriving at the school, you and your husband found yourselves sitting in the principal’s office, signalling the end to your peaceful Monday morning.

“For starters, thank you for being here this morning,” the principal said as he addressed the three parents in the room. “Now, I assume you’ve all been made aware of the current situation, yes?”

“I heard Suzune got into a fight with one of her classmates?” you asked with great trepidation in voice, casting a glance to your sulking daughter who sat next to you. Suna, who sat on the opposite end of the office couch, tried his best to not look bored with the whole situation.

“I’m afraid so,” the principal gravely responded before he gestured for the other mother in the room to speak. “Yamada-san, if you will.”

“Please, call me Karin-san,” Karin said with an all too polite smile on her face. “Now, my Satoshi-kun said that your daughter had punched him for no good reason. Clearly, your daughter was in the wrong because my son would never do anything to provoke someone.”

“That’s wrong!” Suzune shouted angrily before pointing to the quiet Satoshi who sat next to his mother on the opposing couch. “He kept bothering me and making fun of my height!”

“Are you calling my son a liar?” Karin scoffed.

Suzune frowned before looking away. “No, but it wasn’t completely my fault.”

“So you did punch him!”

In the midst of this argument, you and Suna both exchanged looks of disbelief with one another. While you didn’t condone Suzune’s choice of violence, it was quite obvious to you and your husband that there was more to this story.

“All right, no more arguing,” the principal announced as he quickly tried to defuse the situation. “In any case, Kagami-sensei informed me that you did indeed punch Yamada-kun, so please just apologize, Suna-chan.”

“I refuse,” Suzune responded plainly.

Not liking this answer, Karin raised her nose to the air with a haughty huff. “Well, you’re going to have to apologize if you want this matter to be resolved, little missy. I could easily sue you if I wanted to.”

“Don’t sue them, mom,” Satoshi mumbled.

“Hush, Satoshi. She is the one who is clearly at fault here,” Karin maintained with an unbelievable level of smug confidence.

No longer having the patience to deal with this woman’s behaviour, Suna was the next one to speak up. “Weren’t you listening? There’s obviously a reason why Suzune punched your son. Maybe if you stopped throwing out blame left and right, we could actually resolve this problem in a timely manner.”

“Suna Rintarou-san, yes?” Karin asked with disinterest in her voice. “My husband is a big fan of you and your team.”

“Thanks,” Suna drawled out, making no effort to pretend as if he actually cared for the compliment.

“In any case, I would have to disagree with you,” Karin replied before she sent you a patronizing smile. “Perhaps if your wife did a better job at raising her child, we wouldn’t be having this problem.”

The room fell silent as all of the other occupants inside the office stared at Karin in complete shock, unable to believe that she had said something so bold and uncalled for. You were about to shoot down her claims when your husband promptly stood up, his arms crossed as he glared down at the woman across from him.

“You apologize for that right now or else-”

“Or else what?” Karin challenged, immediately copying Suna’s defensive stance, crossed arms, and seething eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

You could do nothing but bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from swearing up a storm. If it weren’t for the current situation and anger that you felt towards Karin right now, you would have applauded her for being able to stand her ground against your professional athlete of a husband. She was strong-willed and unwavering in her determination, you’d give her that.

“Okay, it was my fault!” Satoshi proclaimed, fearfully staring at his mother and Suna. “It was my fault, so please stop fighting!”

“Satoshi? What are you talking about?” Karin asked in total surprise and bewilderment.

“I-I kept bothering Suna, so she punched me to make me go away,” Satoshi admitted. “I only told Kagami-sensei that she punched me first because I didn’t want to get in trouble…”

The room returned to silence once again. With the truth now revealed, Karin could only blink slowly before she realized her absolute mistake. Her face began to burn hot from all of the embarrassment and drama that she had stirred up, and while she was too busy trying to think of ways to save face, you and your husband only grinned in victory.

“I’m sorry for everything, Suna,” Satoshi quietly apologized.

“I accept your apology,” Suzune said with a smirk, only to stop once you gave a look that told her she also needed to apologize. “I-I’m sorry too. For punching you, I mean.”

With everything now resolved, the principal smiled, simply glad that a fight had not broken out in his office that day. “Well then, if there are no more problems, Yamada-kun and Suna-chan can go back to class. Thank you to both sets of parents for being here today. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“O-of course,” Karin answered nervously before both families quietly exited the principal’s office

Once out in the hallways, Satoshi turned around to happily chat with Suzune. “It’s almost lunchtime. Wanna play some volleyball later? My team could use your height.”

“Sure,” Suzune replied with a small grin, causing Satoshi to smile and look away with a faint blush on his face. Noticing this curious behaviour, you soon found yourself lightly chuckling as all of the puzzle pieces came together. It all made sense now.

After Suzune and Satoshi were dropped off at their classroom, you, Suna, and Karin all awkwardly walked together towards the entrance of the school. Clearing her throat, Karin stopped to look at you in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Karin began mournfully. “It was ignorant and rude of me.”

“Yeah, it was,” Suna agreed harshly, making Karin flinch at his straightforward response.

You jabbed your husband in the ribs before you sent Karin a strained smile. “I accept your apology. I can understand why you were so protective.”

“T-thank you,” Karin said with a wobbly smile. “Well, I need to go buy some groceries for dinner tonight. It was, um, nice to meet you. Hopefully, our next encounter will be less…confrontational.”

Wishing Karin farewell, you and your husband silently made your way to the car. You couldn’t help but chuckle once again as you thought back to your new found discovery. It just made so much sense now.

Your husband gave you a strangle look as the both of you got into the car. “What’s so funny?”

“You mean you didn’t notice?” you asked with an amused raise of your eyebrow. “He obviously likes her.”

“Who?”

“Suzune and her classmate,” you clarified. “He likes her.”

Your answer only made Suna more confused. “I don’t see how you came to that conclusion.”

“Didn’t you hear Suzune? He kept bothering her, making fun of her height, and when she agreed to play volleyball with him, he blushed,” you said as you listed off your reasons out loud.

Your husband continued to flatly stare at you. “Yeah, so?”

“Well, if I remember correctly, there was a certain somebody back in high school who used to steal my lunches and bother me all the time because he had a crush on me and wanted to get my attention,” you explained. “Sound familiar to you?”

“I never did any of those things,” your husband defended with a frown. “I just asked you out like a normal person, remember?”

“I know. I was talking about Atsumu,” you casually threw out, causing Suna to freeze and stare at you in pure shock.

“What?! He never told me he liked you!”

“Well, it only lasted three days before I told him that I liked you,” you graced the corner of Suna’s mouth with a quick peck, “why are you even worried? I married you, didn’t I?”

Your husband made no effort to hide his blush, only starting up the car to drive back home. “Yeah, whatever…I need a nap. It’s only noon, and I’m already too tired for any of this.”

“Great! After your nap, you can help me with the chores. Right, honey?” you asked with a sickeningly sweet and innocent smile.

“Y-yes, dear.”

Later that day, in a totally different prefecture, Atsumu nervously approached his teammates with an uneasy smile on his face.

“Um, hypothetically speaking,” he began, looking to his teammates for help. “What does it mean when someone sends you a picture of a knife and tells you to stay away from their wife? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

Bokuto and Hinata furrowed their eyebrows in confusion, while Sakusa simply shook his head.

“It means you’re going to die,” Sakusa answered bluntly.

“Maybe they sent it to the wrong person?” Bokuto suggested.

“Why do you ask, Atsumu-san?” Hinata inquired with a curious tilt of his head. “Did someone do that to you?”

“Of course not! Totally hypothetical,” Atsumu replied with a nervous laugh. Thinking back to Suna’s cryptic and ominous text from earlier, Atsumu reasoned that he would have to talk to his old teammate sometime soon, but perhaps not in person…

Yeah, definitely not in person.

fun fact: suzune’s name is written with the characters for ‘bell, sound’

[r3almellow]

MLQC Boys With A Famous S/o

Here we go! Thank you anon for this request I hope its to your liking!! Apologies for typos as always!

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Kiro (YouTuber S/o)

How did you meet ?

You were a YouTuber that had over 500,000 subscribers. During a Mukbang Q&A video you received a question in regards to your celebrity crush. 

“I think the big ass poster currently behind me kind of gives it away, but my ultimate crush is Kiro. I’d give anything to meet him at least once.” You went even as far as to give him a shout out. “Hey, super star! I heard you were a big foodie and since you like to eat and I like to eat, maybe we can eat together sometime? Okay, that was dumb, please ignore this!”

Little did you know, Kiro was a huge fan of your videos and just so happened to see your request. Next thing you knew a clip of you “shooting your shot” made its way to his social media page with a caption of “Its a date ;)” right above it. You just about died when you saw his post. You were only joking around! Well...not 100% joking, but you didn’t expect him to respond! 

You spent weeks talking to each other through private messages soon after. Your messages filled with gushing over your similar interests, playful banters and light flirting. He offered to be a part of your next Mukbang stating that it was better to have two people eating themselves into a coma on camera than one. You couldn’t argue with facts and took him up on his offer! Kiro only had one condition...you let him take you out on a date afterwards.

And the rest was history. 

Dating

The cutest couple to have ever existed! 

Both of your social media pages are filled with couple photos. 

You both get to dress up in disguise whenever you go on dates! A baseball cap, sunglasses, and face masks are your usual go to’s, but depending on where you’re going you might be required to get a little creative. 

Dealing with overly excited fans and even more persistent paparazzi was a bit new for you, since your interactions with people is mostly through the internet, but you handle it pretty well.

Interviewers practically threw themselves onto every opportunity to get information about your love life. Kiro was more skilled than you about these things, so you tend to just laugh awkwardly and let him take care of it. 

Kiro appears a little more in your videos whenever he’s free which the fans are grateful for. Of course, your channel doesn’t turn into all things Kiro and you never use him for your own personal gain. 

Dating Kiro did open up some opportunities for you, like getting to experience award shows and networking with other celebrities and content creators. Again, you refused to throw Kiro’s name around just to get the things you wanted. 

You both like to bounce ideas off of each other, whether its for his music or for your latest video. Having two creative minds come together does wonders! 

You’re almost always somewhere in the background during his live streams.  

Gavin (Actress S/o)

How did you meet? 

High school. You were a part of the drama club and Gavin was...well...forced into being a part of the stagehand after being threatened with expulsion from his last brawl. 

You were the first one to welcome him. You were kind, funny, and cute. And when you were on that stage? Mesmerizing was the best way to put how Gavin saw you. You were inspiring. 

After graduation Gavin lost contact with most of his acquaintances, but he never once stopped thinking about you. Gavin wasn’t big on celebrity news, but he actually kept up with your progress once he got wind of a newcomer taking the entertainment world by storm. 

Fast forward to a few years later and he was playing bodyguard for one of the most successful actresses in the world. You. This was just an undercover job that was going to last as long as his target was still out there. 

There was definitely chemistry between you. And while Gavin wanted to act on his feelings, his work had to come first. You respected that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to let him know you were interested. How could you not be? You had a huge crush on him back in high school and now that he was by your side practically every day those feelings came back with a vengeance! 

As soon as Gavin’s objective was complete he continues being your bodyguard stating, “Only I can keep you out of trouble.” Which you responded by kissing him.

Dating

Once word got out about you dating your “bodyguard”, it shocked many that you decided to be with someone that wasn’t a celebrity. 

Even so, Gavin doesn’t look like your average Joe. He has the body and face of man who could easily be on the cover of Vogue or Vanity Fair, but you know your man isn’t about that life. 

You’ve spent years being a private person, so when you and Gavin start dating not revealing much was easy. The public only knew what you wanted them to. 

There are a lot of at home dates filled with takeout and movie night. Just being in each others company is more than enough for you!

You work out together a lot! He’s really good about motivating you especially when you have to prepare for an upcoming movie. You honestly don’t need a personal trainer when you have Gavin. 

The paparazzi are afraid of Gavin. Like they won’t even get within six feet of you whenever he’s around. The last poor soul who got a little too close for your liking ate asphalt within seconds.

Gavin isn’t one for the limelight or the glitz and glam, which you appreciate. Its nice to be around someone that isn’t a part of the entertainment world. 

You don’t have to hide a part of yourself, in fear of judgement, whenever you were with him. You appreciated Gavin’s genuine nature. He was always truthful with you and he never gave the impression that he was only with you because of your status. 

Gavin does a great job with making you feel special. Whenever you feel like you don’t meet the standards of what the industry wants, he pulls you out of that dark hole and gives you the pep talk you need to get through the day.

You could walk around without an ounce of makeup on or trade in a Dior dress for sweatpants and a t-shirt, and Gavin still found you beautiful. 

Victor ( Famous Pianist S/o)

How did you meet? 

Victor was a fan of your work for quite some time. There was something about your raw talent that drew him to your work. He always made it a point to go to all your live shows whenever he was available, but has never met you personally. 

It wasn’t until you waltzed right into his office out of the blue. When he saw you enter his office with Goldman and two security guards tailing right behind you, he didn’t even recognize you. You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed with a messy bun, ripped jeans, t-shirt with some random cartoon character and thick rimmed glasses. His first thought as you stared him down with a frown was, “Who let this homeless person into his office?” 

When Goldman called your name as the two security guards grabbed your arms, Victor had to do a double take. The elegant and graceful woman, who commanded the stage with just pads of her fingertips, was...YOU?! 

Victor allowed you to stay, curious to know why you were here. You business with Victor was simple. You wanted funding to create music schools for low income families. You had sent countless emails to LFG with hopes to do business with them, but after being ignored the first few times and receiving a rude rejection email that morning, you were ready to take the bull by the horns. 

Surprisingly Victor found himself intrigued by you and thus started an interesting partnership. 

The more Victor got to work with you the more he became attracted to the headstrong, smart, and talented person who seemingly enjoyed ruffling his feathers every chance they got. 

You were also attracted to the blunt, detail-oriented man and it bothered you to no-end. What you saw in a man who probably would critique drawings from a toddler, you had no idea. But you appreciated his work ethic. He genuinely wanted you to succeed with this project and you couldn’t deny his heart was in the right place. 

The day the first school opened was the day Victor decided to stop tiptoeing around the mutual attraction and asked you out.

“We can celebrate your accomplishments over dinner.” 

Dating

The CEO of LFG and the child prodigy turned world famous pianist dating?!

CAN WE SAY POWER COUPLE?!

Whenever paparazzi get a picture of the two of you, you both look as if you just finished a professional photoshoot. You NEVER look bad in those photos. Never! 

And when you do professional shoots? It leaves people SHOOK. Magazines like Forbes have never had such a beautiful couple grace their covers before. Just wait until people see your wedding photos.

You always ask him to visit you during your rehearsals which he almost always declines but shows up anyway, if he’s not too busy. He’ll also bring a box of his homemade pudding because knowing you, you probably were too busy with preparations for your upcoming concert to eat. He’ll take you out to eat afterwards, but the pudding should hold you over for a bit.

Victor will never admit this to you, but your music helps him de-stress after a long day at work, so whenever he isn’t with you, your music helps him fall asleep. 

Victor also likes to watch you work. Seeing you so focused as you create your next piece was a sight to beheld. The pensive look in your eyes as you went over your music sheet, the slow nod of your head as your fingers danced across the keys as you intently listened to the melody, and the way your eyebrow twitched when you hit a key you didn’t like; all things oddly enjoyed seeing.

You’ll never catch him staring. He’ll pretend he’s working whenever you feel his eyes on you and if you try to call him out on it, he will most likely deny it. 

Lucien ( Novelist S/o)

How did you meet? 

You needed the help of someone knowledgeable with neuroscience for your next book. Someone recommended a Professor at Loveland University who specialized on the topic. That was how you met Professor Lucien. 

You two worked closely together once you started your manuscript, going over various topics under the neuroscience category. It wasn’t surprising just how intelligent the man was on the subject, but you were in awe about how much you knew.

Your meetings would often start at the university which led to you going home together once you found out he lived in the same building as you. You leveled up from the lecture hall to aquariums, movie theaters, restaurants, and his apartment where you had lunch or dinner. 

Your conversations never stayed on the topic of work. It often changed to your interests. You found that you and Lucien had a lot of similar interests like your taste in books and art. He also developed a love for teasing you. 

Seeing the look on your flustered face turned into one of his favorite pastimes.

When it came to the topic of your books, you learned Lucien has read quite a few of them and was very intrigued with your work. He asked you numerous questions, questions no one thought to ask. 

He admitted to you his favorite of yours was the first book he ever read titled, “The Boy Who Dreamed.” You jokingly offered to sign his book, but he declined with a smile.

“I’ll admit I do enjoy the book, but I’m more interested in the woman who wrote it.” 

Dating

More dates at your favorite places. 

Almost every other week, Lucien seemed to have tickets to art exhibits, festivals, or the movies. 

His teasing intensifies by a hundred! That man loves to tease you and you hate it! You love it. 

The closer you got to Lucien, the more you realized he didn’t enjoy talking about himself, so it takes a while to learn about him or his past. You never press him for information, but he does reveal things to you within time.

Lucien loves when you read to him. Its how he falls asleep and once you find out he has trouble sleeping, you always suggest what you call “story time.” 

In truth, having you by his side is more than enough to get him to sleep, but if you aren’t there hearing your voice will do the trick. You could be reading anything and he’d be fine with it. From Dr. Seuss to H.G. Wells, Lucien was fine with it as long as he got hear your voice.

You like to ask for his opinion on your latest projects. He does a great job making you think outside of the box which will make things easier or challenging during your writing sessions. 

Whenever you encounter writer’s block, Lucien will pull you away from your laptop and mountains of papers to enjoy a nice relaxing day with him. 

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Doooone! Please comment if you enjoyed this! I’d love to know what you guys think!

Want to read more of my writing? Check out my MLQC masterlist here!

[hilarieburtonmorgan]

Ten Years Later, the One Tree Hill Cast Is Setting the Record Straight

Ten years after the finale of One Tree Hill, the actors Hilarie Burton Morgan, Sophia Bush, and Bethany Joy Lenz have never been closer. Despite their shared experience growing up on screen, the trio— who played Peyton Sawyer, Brooke Davis, and Haley James in the heartland-set high school soap for nine seasons—were kept largely isolated from one another during those years.

That distance began to dissipate with age, and when the #MeToo movement alerted the actors to some of their common experiences while working on One Tree Hill. In their new weekly iHeartRadio podcast Drama Queens, the three actors unpack the moments—nostalgic and traumatic alike—that unfolded behind the scenes of the wildly popular drama. To celebrate the podcast’s success, Burton Morgan, Bush, and Lenz joined us for a bit of reminiscing. —BRIAN ALESSANDRO

———

HILARIE BURTON MORGAN: Sophia, you were the person that called me about a podcast. What was the catalyst for you to be like, “It’s time”?

SOPHIA BUSH: When we first finished the show, I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to be close to it. And then as time went on, and we all started being able to get together, and share stories, and talk some shit. We all finally told each other the stories we’d been afraid to share — I wish we’d been able to have the friendships we have now back then! — and hearing everyone’s stories really made me so furious. It lit that fire in me, and I thought “well, we just have to burn it down.” But, I also had to remember how much our fans love the show, and to realize that despite so much that was insidious we also had fun. We’ve shared stories about what was painful and hard, and I think especially because of what you were put through, I wanted to call you first and just say, like, “Does this idea feel triggering?” You said “No, this feels quite cool.”

BURTON MORGAN: What was your first reaction, Joy?

BETHANY JOY LENZ: I was definitely hesitant about more One Tree Hill anything. But the more we talked about it, I was like, “Wow, this is actually a chance for redemption.” Also, I don’t want to throw shade on the show that did give us amazing opportunities. I always try to temper my frustrations with a good bit of gratitude. But as for the bad stuff, I really do love the opportunity to redeem that. Some of it was us being young and stubborn twenty-year-olds, but a lot of it was the people around us who were using our youth and naïveté to keep us from arguing back. It was always, “Joy, you’re the odd man out. Sophia, you’re the odd man out. Hilarie, you’re the odd man out.” So we never reached out to each other. I’m incredibly grateful for the relationship I with you amazing women now.

BURTON MORGAN: I left the show first, and it was the divorce of my life, because I’d committed so much to being the good soldier. “I’ll do whatever press you want. I’ll go on whatever mall tour.” And so, the loss of that was traumatic. But the next relationship I got into professionally was with White Collar, and the best person I could have ever encountered was Tiffani Thiessen, who was an icon to me. She told me right out of the gate, “Don’t bad mouth the show that got you started. Defend your character, forget the bad guys, take what’s good.” That was such great advice. She was someone whose opinion meant something to me, because she’d been a teen idol of mine. Who were some women on TV that that you felt like we were trying to emulate while we were doing the show?

LENZ: I don’t think I ever really knew how to process it. I actually feel like I missed a lot of the excitement because I kept asking myself what it all meant.

BURTON MORGAN: I was the opposite! I like experience. But I made terrible choices.

BUSH: I’m with Joy. Now, I over intellectualize everything because back then, I was always soaking up all the experiences and I got my ass handed to me. So now I’m like, “What does it mean? What is it all?”

BURTON MORGAN: How many years out are we now? Like 17 years out from the first year?

LENZ: I don’t even know how to process that.

BURTON MORGAN: 18 years out? Jesus, we could have children in college at this point. Why do you think people still care?

LENZ: Comfort food. I mean, that’s it, like especially now that there’s so much content. I can only speak from my experience, but when I settle in to watch TV, I will spend 20 minutes scrolling before saying, “You know what, fuck it,” and turning on Frasier. And that’s what I watch because I know those characters, and I just want that familiarity. I honestly think the over-saturation has played a huge role in our fans’ need for One Tree Hill.

BUSH: And I would also say that there is something about how — as outlandish it got at times — there was also a lot that felt honest. People write to us about how they feel seen, how they feel represented, how they see their own struggles in our show. When I meet new people who are just discovering it and I think, “You could be watching anything! Why? Thank you?”

BURTON MORGAN: Honestly, having an older kid, and seeing the things that he’s drawn to, he loves watching TV shows from our era. Probably the same reason I loved watching Bewitched and I Dream of Jeannie and What’s Happening – it’s retro. They’re mystified by it because there’s no social media on our show and so people are actually talking to each other. You actually had to show up at Karen’s Cafe to have that important conversation. It’s a wish fulfillment for these younger kids where they’re like, “Oh, my life doesn’t look anything like that.” We are the time warp, which is super fucked up.

LENZ: And we were also the last show that was doing, dare I say, wholesome content? I mean I know our show, like, jumped the shark several times in many regards, but in terms of the“hometown kids, middle of America, just dealing with regular emotions and life stuff,” those shows became very rare. Everything that came after us was like rich kids—Gossip Girl and The OC, and then it was all brought to a high-concept place like the Vampire Diaries, Riverdale stuff. And I don’t know that there’s anything out there that’s kind of gotten back to the roots, like One Tree Hill.

BURTON MORGAN: Can you imagine pitching One Tree Hill now? Like, “it’s about some kids. Two of them play basketball, and the rest are just moody.”

BURTON MORGAN: What episodes are we all excited to review the most? Some of them are cringey as hell.

BUSH: I’m sure a lot of them will be.

BURTON MORGAN: I like the Halloween episode we did at Tric [the “all-ages” nightclub]. That was batshit. It was 1000 degrees in there and everyone was dying and miserable and we’re dressed up like cartoons.

LENZ: I know. The one with the car, where they made me fucking siphon off gas.

BURTON MORGAN: That was fun cause that was really the first time the three of us were put together.

BUSH: Having to pretend to be high on pills when I never had been, I was like, “I’ll try!” Hilarie, your wedding episode was…

BURTON MORGAN: Christ.

BUSH: That was such a shit show, man. You said the Halloween episode — you’ll cackle when you see we did a Halloween episode after you were gone. And I had to be dressed up as one half of A Clockwork Orange, but was abandoned in my costume, and I was written to be dressed as a giant orange and Carol (Cutshall, costumer) papier-mached a workout ball and drilled armholes in it, and I had to wear it. AND I directed that episode!

BURTON MORGAN: That’s perfect! That’s a chef’s kiss.

BUSH: I had little T-Rex arms, being like, “well, if you go over there” – And they’d say “Where?” And I’d be like, “I can’t show you! I’m stuck in an orange!” It was, it was so humiliating. But when I think back on it, great comedic fodder.

BURTON MORGAN: What is your favorite keepsake from the show?

LENZ: I have the Julius Caesar book that Haley gives to Lucas in the pilot.

BURTON MORGAN: I have the leather jacket that Peyton takes after Ellie [Sheryl Lee] dies. That was an intense crying scene for me. My body has a physical reaction to that jacket.

LENZ: What’s yours, Soph?

BUSH: I have, like, a bin.

BURTON MORGAN: You have everything!

BUSH: There’s like this sad episode where Brooke celebrates her birthday alone in her room with a cupcake. I have the photo album from that scene, which is very sweet because it’s all photos of you and I, Hilarie…

BURTON MORGAN: You have that?

BUSH: Oh yeah, I took that immediately. There are real pictures of us from growing up, because it was this story of these friends who grew up together…

BURTON MORGAN: Joy, we’re gonna photoshop you in.

BUSH: Honestly, we should just make a new one. Of all the stuff that feels sentimental, that “Brooke Davis for President” pin kills me. It’s up on the wall in my office, because it makes me laugh. When I think about why that’s the one thing I’ve displayed—next to a photo of the three of us— it’s because it symbolized something that at the time really embarrassed me, but now I respect. Brooke Davis took the thing she was made fun of for, and turned it into an anthem. She was this bad bitch who owned her shit. That’s something I’ve tried to emulate.

BURTON MORGAN: One thing that I keep thinking is, “we deserve this.”

LENZ: Because we do! It’s hard to say that as women, I think.

BURTON MORGAN: What makes you two feel like we deserve this?

LENZ: Because we’ve worked our asses off, and because it’s beautiful to experience friendship with each other in a way that we were robbed of in our younger days.

BURTON MORGAN: We were really good girls. I’m excited to set things straight.

[petri808]

Inspired by Prompt for @inuvember Inukag day modern AU

It was the night before the wedding and her anxieties were on edge in the rented cottage. The location Kagome had chosen for her wedding was out in the countryside since she wanted something more natural and simple rather than in the city. So, both they’d rented two separate cottages to get ready at. The location was absolutely beautiful, should be very peaceful, but even the silence was getting on her nerves and gave her mind too many opportunities to over think things.

“Don’t worry Kagome, everything is fine.” Sanyo assured her best friend. “You’ve planned this wedding to death already,” she chuckled, “there’s nothing more we can do except show up tomorrow.” As the maid of honor, she did her best to make sure everything Kagome wanted would come to fruition.

“I know, I know,” the woman sighed. “I just want everything to be perfect, you know? Inuyasha deserves it— I deserve it after everything we’ve gone through to get here.”

Which was true to some extent. Despite the outcome, their meeting had been fortuitous, and not under pleasant circumstances. Inuyasha was a detective assigned to catch a serial killer. Said killer retaliated by killing his girlfriend. Yet despite the pain, it made him work harder, and when Kagome was kidnapped by this same killer, Inuyasha managed to track him down and stop him before he could kill her too. It had been such a harrowing set of events that took Kagome time to heal from, and trust men again. Inuyasha played a key role in that process. He was always around to comfort her, first in a professional capacity, but over time an attachment grew between them, and in the end, they healed each other.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Sango prompted, “and tomorrow the next step of your journey will begin.”

A loud banging sound awoke the women. Kagome rolled over groggily to look at the alarm clock, but sees it blinking. Oh crap! Her eyes snap open in shock. She quickly fumbled for her cellphone. “10 am?! Sango we over slept!” They were two hours late!

“What?!” Sango popped out of bed. “Oh, no! Okay don’t panic!” They should have been up and dressed already. She quickly grabbed Kagome’s dress and shoved in her friend’s hands. “J-Just start getting dressed, I’ll go get the door and wake up the others, it’s probably just the stylist team.”

Kagome’s in tears, but what else could she do except rush now. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the power must have gone out through the night. Oh why hadn’t she set the alarm on her phone too?! Sango was a blessing to have at her side. The woman stayed calm, waking up the other bridesmaid, and helping the stylists set up shop in the kitchen area. They were supposed to be at the church in an hour and a half, but the hair and makeup was expected to take 2 hours for all three women and 1 child.

“Kagome, hun, you’ve gotta stop tearing up or they can’t get your makeup done,” Sango chided in the softest, gentlest voice she could muster.

“I already let the guys know we might be late,” Ayame added in. “They said they’ll get to the venue early to make sure things are going as planned.”

“Okay,” Kagome sniffled. “How’s Rin coming along?”

“Her hair is almost done.” Sango responded. “She’s just the most adorable flower girl ever!”

Once Kagome is convinced they were back on track for the most part, she relaxed a little. If she had to do this over again, she’d take eloping instead. All the stress of wedding planning... no wonder some turned into bridezillas! It wasn’t a very big wedding either. They both had small families and the rest were mostly friends from work. On her side of the bridal party, it was just her, Sango as the maid of honor, Ayame (Kouga’s wife) a brides maid, and Rin (Inuyasha’s niece) the flower girl. On Inuyasha’s, Kouga was his best man, and Miroku (Sango’s husband) a groomsman. How was this so stressful?!

“Ready everyone?” Sango gathered the girls up. “Dressed, makeup, hair. Time to go!” With the stylists out the door, she ushered the party into the waiting limo, before locking up and getting in too.

They make it to the venue just a few minutes late, nothing like Kagome feared and everything looked fine. The decorations and flowers were done or in the final stages of set up. Food, music, photographers all doing their jobs. She did a brief walk though the building before being ushered to a garden area to take the wedding photos.

Inuyasha looked so handsome in his suit, it almost made Kagome’s nerves melt away... Almost. The second they stepped outside, she noticed an uptick in the breeze. Her husband-to-be held her hand tightly, probably sensed a rise in her anxiety. “I’m okay,” she responded with a fake smile to allay his fears.

The photographer cued them to their places and the group did there best to ignore the fact the wind was not being very nice at all. What started as a breeze was slowly becoming a mini storm and after trying for 20 minutes, they’re forced to give up on the outdoor shoot.

Inuyasha lead Kagome back inside to sit down and calm her. “Deep breaths baby,” Inuyasha rubbed circles on her back. “It’s still okay, we can always retake the photos later.”

She was doing her best to keep the tears from falling, but this was all so frustrating! First the power outage and waking up late, now a wind storm?! “Why is this happening to us?!” She held her face in her hands. “It not fair! I just wanted things perfect for you and I.”

“I know baby, it’s not. You deserve a perfect wedding like you dreamed of. But you know what makes me happy?” Kagome looked up and shook her head. “Just you. Wedding, no wedding, a piece of paper making it official, I don’t care as long as you’re with me. I love you, Kagome, and that’s all I need.”

Oh, now that does bring on the waterworks. A few tears broke free when the corners of her eyes crinkled into a smile. “I love you too, Inuyasha.”

He kissed her softly. “One little hiccup won’t stop us.”

At that moment, Sango and Kouga, followed by Miroku and Ayame attending to Rin walk up to the couple. It’s Sango who spoke first with a heaviness to her tone. “We’ve got— a bigger problem. The officiant is currently in a jail cell.”

“What?!” The couple both jump up from their seats.

Now Kouga stepped in. “I just got a call from a local cop, apparently once the guy had sobered up this morning he told them where he was supposed to be today. As fellow officers they called me as a courtesy.”

“So, what the fuck happened,” Inuyasha growled. “They can’t release him if was just a D.U.I?”

Kouga shook his head. “Apparently, the power outage was his fault too. He crashed into a electrical tower, and since this is his 2nd DUI in less then 5 years, they wouldn’t R.O.R. him.”

“Just great!” Inuyasha groaned and looked at his watch. “We’ve got less than an hour to find another officiant and the guests will start arriving. So, what’s our options?”

A crazy laughter breaks the tension in the air. “Oh, fuck it all!”

Everyone turns their attention in complete shock from whom those words came from.

Rin giggled, “Aunty Gome said fuck.”

Ayame quickly covered the little girls mouth. “D-Don’t tell your dad you said that!”

“Gome?” Inuyasha looked at his bride-to-be in utter bemusement and surprise. “Are you okay?” He realized she’d finally snapped, but could he blame her?

“No.” Kagome stated flatly. “But, I give up. This wedding is happening no matter what!” She turned to Sango and Kouga. “I don’t care who it is, just find someone, anyone to pretend to be an officiant. Get them ready!” She waved her hand in the air flippantly. “Well redo the official vows later. Ayame if you could keep Rin company for now. Inuyasha and I will double check to make sure everything else is set to go. Got it everyone?!”

“Got it!” They all cry out. It was a surprise, yet a good one to see her taking command. “We’ve got a plan!”

Inuyasha’s grinned and swept Kagome into his arms. “Damn woman, I like this side of you.”

She giggled and slapped his chest, “save it for tonight big boy, but right now, we’ve got a wedding to finish!”

[thescorpioracer]

Sen Çal Kapımı 1 - Episode Recap

To be honest, this series of posts is mostly going to be a fashion roast. But DISCLAIMER! I really do love this show and Turkish TV in general, it’s just my preferred mode of media analysis is to pick things apart. 😂And I need everyone to know that I am very pro-women, and believe people should be able to dress how they want and not be judged for it or be looked down upon for it. But oh my god this wardrobe department/costumer needs to be STOPPED. I also have zero credentials to be talking about fashion, but will that stop me?

I’m going to make these posts assuming you’ve watched the show, and just comment on whatever comes up. There will be spoilers. Let’s go!

We start off with a voiceover from Eda Yıldız, an A+ romcom trope. (It wasn’t until my rewatch that I remembered that Eda used to do VOs at random intervals, and I’m kind of glad she stopped tbh.) She is a strong woman who wants to get her education and become a landscape architect/designer. She was all set to do that until- dun dun dun! - Serkan Bolat destroyed everything. 

Check out that dart board of a man (and this is the only time we see that photo there). And these outfits are probably the most normal and reasonable clothes she wears in the show. She’s a beautiful young woman, who was a college student, and now works outdoors as a florist. 10/10 outfit. 

Of course that transitions us into an epic slomo of Serkan exiting his private jet. He of course begins to berate his assistant on the phone in a way a friend described as reminiscent of The Devil Wears Prada.

@teamnick​​‘s commentary back when she first started the show. 

Serkan returns to his office for the first time in 2 months after working on business deals in London. Chaos ensues: Miranda Priestly is baaaaaaack.

See... here we have some good fashion choices! We meet the girls for the first time, while they try to sneak off to their graduation without making Eda feel bad that she won’t be receiving her diploma. Melek “Melo” is dressed in a sweet dress with a bold, romantic color, which captures her personality perfectly. Ceren, the rich daughter from a family of lawyers, looks a bit more high-fashion. The dress is short but it has long sleeves and no cleavage so it works out to be chic and elegant. Fifi is unapologetically herself with her full-black, punk wardrobe. Eda is again dressed in a pretty, but casual outfit. Nicely put together for her lower-middle-class lifestyle and her job as a florist.

Enter: the plot device to get our protagonists together. Serkan’s face says it all.

We are then introduced to the main couple’s respective cars. Serkan has his 2020 BMW (though the show blocks out the copyrighted branding) while Eda’s beat up SUV is clearly unreliable. What’s that? Another plot device being introduced? I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Also, I just noticed this, but for someone as uptight as Serkan, I’m surprised at how fun his suit jacket lining is. If I’m not mistaken the pattern is of a bunch of rainbow fish. #Snazzy, but they seem out of character?

Plot highlights:

Eda learns she can come back to school and finish her final year, but she’s lost her scholarship and will have to pay. She can’t.

Serkan gives his talk at the graduation (?)-- Is his talk just for architecture students? If so, why are Ceren, Fifi, and Melo there? We’ll never know. I know, I know... it’s all for the ~plot~

Eda calls Serkan out in front of everyone for taking away the scholarship that she earned from his company, Art Life. He is confused but unrepentant. She refuses to tell him her name.

She tries to deface his car with lipstick after keying the side (we never hear about the damage to his car after that). He catches her and wants to call the police, so she impulsively handcuffs them together with the plot devices from Selin’s wedding invitation sitting on his passenger seat.

They then have to go to Serkan’s urgent business meeting with an out-of-town client. Eda drives while they’re handcuffed together. Bickering ensues.

What is this? Foreshadowing? Symbolism?? Eda’s last name “Yıldız” is the Turkish word for “star” so... file that away for later.

One of my favorite parts about watching Turkish dramas is the experience of trying to decipher the fan translations. Add to the fact that Turkish only has 1 pronoun *chef’s kiss* 

Eda refuses to take the elevator to the 15th floor (we’ll learn about her claustrophobia later). Serkan is equally as stubborn, saying she owes  him for screwing up his day. But he has met his match in Eda with regards to stubbornness. They take the stairs.

More highlights:

First instance of fake dating - they need to hide the handcuffs from his client so Eda pretends she’s his girlfriend and a fellow investor.

The girls track Eda’s phone to the hotel and try to find her by asking around the premises. 

Eda charms the client into selling his land to Serkan.

We learn that Serkan is allergic to strawberries and has a lot of health anxiety. He’s a very tightly wound person.

Serkan says “Mashallah,” translator hears 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

Engin brings way too many people to open the handcuffs and chaos ensues.

I feel like nothing can do justice to the comedy of 58:45 to 1:00:00 with Fifi using a bobby pin as a lock pick. The dramatic editing is 👌🏼

Leyla gets fired for somehow causing this drama??? And she is so happy to leave that stressful workplace omg, we don’t deserve her 🥺

Serkan and Eda go their separate ways, Eda prepared to never see her enemy again, but of course her phone and purse are still in his car so she has to go to his office at Art Life and confront him again.

Serkan has found out that Whoops, Art Life did cancel the study abroad scholarships to cut costs, but his CFO did it without telling him. And Serkan is pissed, but I think mainly about the fact that Eda did have some (SOME) grounds for yelling at him in public.

Leyla then explains the nonsensical reasoning behind her being fired-but-not-fired and still working. (Spoiler alert: she never goes anywhere and she is my favorite side character to this day).

Eda: “How can I piss Serkan off?” Leyla: “Find a mistake he’s made and he will fixate on it forever. But you won’t find anything.” Eda: “Hold my beer.”

Eda walks into Serkan’s office and his meeting. She gets her purse back and they fight about him not being willing to apologize for ruining her life and education. He refuses and says she owes him an apology for embarrassing him in public (no, dude).

He wants to give her back the scholarship and make it all go away but she rightly tells him that it won’t fix her broken pride from begging the company and her university for a second chance. But somehow her calling him a heartless “Robot” is what gets to him???? And he short-circuits. Eda walks out triumphant. 

~dRaMa!~

MEANWHILE

Melo, as well as being a perfume sales girl, also works as a flight attendant and wants Eda to cover her shift (we’ll get into how that doesn’t make sense in a minute) 

Eda says no, she’s going to meet her boyfriend, Cenk, who she hasn’t seen in months and has just returned from Italy.

Enter: Selin. Serkan’s ex who he dumped a while ago and is now engaged to the heir of a hotel empire. Serkan doesn’t like this. The two of them grew up together and are set to each inherit 50% of the holding company that Serkan’s father currently runs.

Right away Selin serves us with a gender reveal level color scheme.  Personally not a fan. They confirm that Serkan is coming to her engagement party tomorrow.

Meanwhile Eda  meets up with Cenk. Her outfit is still reasonable and cute for her character. He looks mildly like a hobo and doesn’t seem to have anything going for him (I know he’s a throwaway character but the two of them really don’t have anything in common).

This creeper keeps staring at them, but Cenk tries to explain it away and says he’s busy and can’t meet her again until the day after tomorrow. Eda is disappointed but accepts this. Creeper girl remains and remains a red flag to viewers, but apparently not to Eda.

Cut to later that evening, and of course our broody main man enjoys astronomy in his free time (???) idk what he’s charting and to what purpose but okay? 

Eda finds a mini first aid kit in her purse that Serkan put there before returning it. Queue montage of them treating their respective wrists for handcuff-related injuries. #couplegoals

Of course we also needed a sepia-toned flashback to earlier that day when the handcuffs contrived their faces to get too close together. #romance

Finallyyyyyyy it’s morning again and a new day.

Since Eda can’t see Cenk (good, he’s so boring), she agrees to fill in as a flight attendant for Melo, who’s side job is for a private plane company.

Now. This should not be a thing. Eda was in college to be a landscape architect and now works as a florist for her aunt... Where has she learned any relevant skills to work as a flight attendant?? Presumably nowhere. And I really don’t think a private plane company would be so easygoing about just having a random person fill in to cover for her friend? 

But does this show care about that? What do you think...

Also, instead of the standard white shirt, black skirt uniform requirements, the girls decide that this skimpy dress and heels is fine? Hmmm

Also lol @ Melo for assuming that the client who wants jasmine tea and fruit salad is probably a woman. And her telling Eda that the PRIVATE JET COMPANY would in fact have its own tea was very random and unnecessary. 

Back at the Bolat house compound, we meet the parents: Aydan and Alptekin. We’ll see them again later. Selin’s engagement party is today. 

Meanwhile Eda is just.... being a flight attendant, I guess??? And who could possibly be the passenger she has to take care of? Take a wild guess. Of course it’s Serkan Bolat.

And of course that tiny dress (THAT ALSO HAS A LEG SLIT?? WHY?? I really don’t need to see her vagina) looks very practical and professional... not! (Hande Erçel is a gorgeous human, and the dress looks good on her, don’t get me wrong. BUT THIS IS SITUATIONALLY INCORRECT ATTIRE). Also him just folding his vest and then social distancing from it... K? 😂

Eda panics and doesn’t want Serkan to see her and runs away back to her seat pod thing - Serkan takes issue with his fruit salad for ~plot reasons~ (EDIT: I’ve been informed that it’s because there was a strawberry in his fruit salad and since he’s allergic, of course it needed to be fixed. Why doesn’t the plane have a note of that??) and comes back to find this mystery flight attendant.

Eda is very stressed out about this encounter and is also starting to have a panic attack because, surprise, she’s also claustrophobic. 

After Serkan calms her down, they have a cute/civil conversation for the rest of the flight.

When they land, Eda realizes they’re on an island 2h45min away from Istanbul and she isn’t sure what to do with herself (How did she not already know where they were going, as the FLIGHT ATTENDANT??? So may red flags with this private jet company).

Serkan convinces Eda to come with him and she can hang out at the beach while he’s at Selin’s engagement party.

At the engagement party we finally meet Selin’s fiancé Ferit. He’s sweet and non-threatening and clearly insecure about Serkan being Selin’s ex.

This dress/skirt outfit Selin is wearing isn’t terrible, but it doesn’t scream rich socialite to me. Anything with feathers seems... a bit tacky/too showy? Like someone pretending to be rich? Idk, this outfit isn’t one I’m going to really take a stand on.

Does this engagement party warrant being a 2h45 min flight away? No. They try to explain it away as the couple wanting to have something small and private, even though they also invite the press?? But okay whatever, as long as Serkan and Eda cross paths again, I suppose.

Kaan Karadağ has been mentioned a couple times in passing, but now we finally meet our “villain.” Ferit’s friend, and Serkan & Selin’s childhood acquaintance, who has it out for Serkan bc he somehow bankrupted Kaan’s dad? Idk and I don’t really care but tl;dr they’re enemies. 

Another thing I love about Turkish dramas is the censoring. Like, they’ll allow alcohol to be on screen, but they won’t say the word and they’ll just blur out the bottle and any liquid that we’d assume is alcoholic 😂

In the evening, Serkan is tired and wants to leave and Ferit snidely jokes about how Serkan is too picky to have a fiancé of his own. Serkan flashes back to 1 entire day ago when he and Eda pretended to be dating at his business meeting, and says that actually he is engaged to someone and then peaces out.

Serkan finds Eda on the beach, and they are preparing to leave when a crowd of people (Selin, Ferit, and Kaan mainly), arrive to get a peek at Serkan’s new “fiancé.” Eda very reluctantly plays along (good thing she has that unnecessarily sexy “work” dress to help her look the part) and Serkan notices that for the first time ever, Selin is jealous of another woman. #drama

After they finally escape the crowd, Serkan makes an annoyed Eda an offer: Pretend to be his fiancé for the 2 months leading up to Selin’s wedding so he can get them to break up and prevent Ferit marrying into the company. In return, he will pay all the fees to help her complete her last year of studies in Italy.

Eda refuses, stating that she doesn’t want anything from him, and besides she has a boyfriend (Sure Jan; Cenk is such a joke). They have it out and then fly back to Istanbul. But of course the gossips at the engagement have spread the news of Serkan’s new woman so the paparazzi corner them at the airport when they land. 

So glad that we got to see this random mechanic find out the news (???)

They escape the cameras and Serkan takes her home, saying that Art Life has a press conference tomorrow, and she should come so he can save face and tell everyone that she was his assistant accompanying him for work to the party. Eda agrees. 

It should also be mentioned that Serkan still doesn’t know her name at this point?? She refused to tell him and Engin still hasn’t sent him the names of the scholarship candidates so it’s a bit miraculous that their relationship was at all believable.

The next day, Cenk wants to meet but Eda has to go to the press conference. The girls come too for whatever reason, and Melo is convinced that Cenk wants to propose. Eda just lets that fantasy take hold (why tho?), and Cenk shows up unexpectedly right before the press conference and takes Eda into the nearby hotel’s cafe so they can talk.

Eda seems ready for a proposal (they haven’t seen each other or really communicated in months??) but Cenk wants to break up. Eda is shocked (???) but then Cenk mentions that he has a new girlfriend from Italy that he adores, and oh by the way, it’s the creepy girl from the other night who also happens to be here right now?

Okay fine, I guess??? Cenk: “She’s doesn’t speak Turkish” Girlfriend: *clearly a Turkish actress*

Eda is upset that he brought his jealous girlfriend with him to break up with her and says something about how actually, she’s seeing Serkan Bolat now (maybe it’s just me being someone who doesn’t follow tabloids, but are business people really that popular in every day society where everyone knows who they are?). Cenk laughs at Eda, saying that everyone wants to be with Serkan Bolat, and that she’s bluffing.

Eda makes an impulsive decision, and walks away, over to where Serkan has started the press conference. And seals their fate as fake dating in the public eye.

Queue confetti. No really.

And there we have it. That’s the episode!

In all seriousness, it’s a pretty great pilot, especially for a romcom. It hits all the right beats, includes enough tropes, and tells us a lot about what we should expect in the episodes going forward. And no matter how much I make fun of it, I really do enjoy this show! It’s been such a nice distraction from Current Events. I’ve spent a lot of time watching these episodes just saying “oh my god” out loud to myself as I watch all of the cute/romantic gestures that give me a lot of second hand embarrassment (I forget that PDA makes me kinda uncomfortable 😂).

There wasn’t actually that much terrible fashion in this episode, which I didn’t notice until my rewatch. If I continue with this series of posts, I’m hoping they’ll end up being less plot-centric, and more about the situationally inappropriate outfits and strange subtitling choices. 

See you next time? 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 76 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Violet was shocked to learn about Sutan’s ex-wife.

This Chapter: Christmas Day continues. Violet asks some tough questions and gets even tougher answers.

***

As Courtney strolled down the beach, Bianca’s fingers laced in hers, she couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever been this happy in her life. They’d spent a lazy morning in bed exchanging presents and kisses until their lips were swollen. After that, they'd soaked in the hot tub for awhile before walking to the resort’s restaurant for a Christmas brunch right on the water, the gentle waves nearly reaching their table at one point.

After they’d finished eating, Courtney had carefully removed the designer clothes she was wearing (one of her many Christmas presents from Bianca, of course) to reveal one of her new bathing suits, and raced out into the waves, diving into the cool, refreshing water.

It had probably been less than six months since she’d last touched the ocean, but that six months was the longest Courtney had gone since before she could remember. There was something so cleansing about it, so pure, and when she finally emerged from the waves to run back to Bianca on the beach, she felt reborn and fresh, all of her stress and worries washed away.

Bianca was uncharacteristically quiet on their walk back to the suite, simply holding her hand and pulling her in every few feet for sweet, perfect kisses.

She tugged on Bianca’s strap, giggling a bit at the scandalized look Bianca gave her in return.

“What? You said you’d let me peek whenever I wanted.”

“Hmm...well, I guess a deal’s a deal, huh?” Bianca’s face melted into a naughty smirk as she let Courtney pull her top down and leer hungrily at her chest.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff…” Courtney said, and Bianca lunged forward to tickle her sides.

She shrieked with laughter and took off running down the beach, making sure not to go too fast...after all, she wanted Bianca to catch her. Bianca wrapped her arms around Courtney from behind, lips quickly finding the tenderest part of her neck. Courtney let her eyes fall closed, basking in the warmth of her embrace, the delicious feeling of her plush lips, the absolute perfection of the whole day.

***

The most irritating thing about Pearl was how goddamn sexy she was. When Dahlia agreed to sneak away from her grandmother’s house in the middle of Christmas day and meet up with Pearl at a diner on the Lower East Side that happened to be open, she was anticipating a little flirting over a plate of French fries, maybe some light making out.

She was planning to be a tease, to make Pearl really work for it. After all, the fact that Pearl knew how goddamn sexy she was had to be the second most irritating thing about her.

Dahlia was prepared--even excited--to make her suffer.

But that wasn’t how it happened, not one bit. What happened instead was that after barely two minutes of her attempt at teasing, she folded like a house of cards, following Pearl into an exceptionally dingy bathroom. It was those knowing, sleepy blue eyes that did it...or maybe the way her fingers so expertly drew designs on her thigh under the table.

It wasn’t the first time that Dahlia had been roughly fucked against a dirty cement wall, but it was the first time she’d liked it so much.

The first time she begged for more, moaning and whimpering as Pearl’s fingers curled perfectly inside her, until her knees gave out and Pearl had to hold her up to keep her from sliding down to the sticky floor.

“Fucking fuck,” she whispered hoarsely, once she’d finally caught her breath.

Pearl laughed, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, warm hands sliding up from her waist to her tits.

“So, uh...Merry Christmas, I guess.”

“Merry Christmas,” Pearl grinned as she sucked two fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Well...it wasn’t the worst date of my life,” Dahlia told her.

“My roommates are gonna be out all day tomorrow, and you seem like a girl who can scream,” Pearl continued. “So, if you feel like coming to my place...let me know.”

Dahlia shrugged, feigning nonchalance, although her heart already hammered in anticipation of what a whole day together might be like. “Yeah...maybe.”

Pearl smiled again. She knew. Of course she knew, this wasn’t her first rodeo.

Dahlia sighed, internally accepting that she was really and truly falling, that she could no longer pretend that she didn’t care, that this was all just a game to get back at her former friend. Oh well.

***

“There.” Sutan closed the trunk, pressing down on the car key, two beeps giving the confirmation that it was locked. They were in the underground parking garage, Raja and Raven already long gone in the elevator, Raja carrying the majority of the presents while Raven had chatted away, Christmas always putting her in the very best mood.

“You good?” Sutan turned to Violet, stuffing the key in his pocket as he balanced the small tower of Christmas gifts. “Do you need me to carry anything?”

Violet shook her head, her bag around her elbow, his girlfriend leaning on her crutches. Violet had gotten stupidly good at getting around on her own, but Sutan had to admit that he was looking forward to the cast coming off, just so things would get a little bit easier for her.

“Okay,” Sutan smiled, making his way towards the elevator, Violet behind him. She had sat in the back with Raven on the way home, not saying much, but Sutan hadn’t worried about  the quiet, Violet kissing his mother’s cheek before they left so she had to be in a good mood.

If Sutan was being honest, he was beyond thrilled with how well Violet was getting along with his mom, and most importantly, how much his mom seemed to like Violet.

It filled him with warm delight every time he thought of it, his chest almost hot with how happy it made him.

“I know we’ve eaten a lot today,” they stepped into the elevator, Sutan pressing the button for their floor, “but I was thinking that we could have-”

“Sutan.” Violet cut him off, not looking at his face, a sadness in her voice that made Sutan pause immediately even though he could hear that she was trying to be casual. “I have to… I have a question.” Violet paused, clearly fighting to get her words out, “I need to know if…”

“Yes?”

“You were married? Before?”

Sutan raised an eyebrow, the question kind of strange since Violet had literally seen his wedding photos earlier that very same day.

“And you didn’t,” Violet’s fingers tightened on her crutch, her eyes focusing on the elevator door as they rode up, “I know I’m not perfect, and that I’m not…great…at telling you things, but you didn’t,” Violet turned to him. “You didn’t think I deserved to know that you have an ex-wife?”

“What?” The elevator dinged, and Sutan didn’t know what to say. “Violet, why do you think? Deserve? Why would I ever?” What she had just said didn’t make any sense, the fact that he had been married common knowledge.

“Please don’t toy with me.” Violet had retreated once again, no longer watching him, the two of them making their way towards the door, Sutan digesting the information she had just given him. They made their way inside, Sutan putting the presents down by the door, glancing over at Violet who was taking off her jacket, carefully balancing on her good foot.

“...Are you telling me you didn’t know?”

“How would I know?” Violet looked up at him, shrugging her jacket off. There wasn’t any venom in her voice, just a sad reluctant confusion.

“It’s on the first page of my google results?” Which was unfortunate, but true, the wedding photos refused to budge though he had finally managed to get them to the bottom of the page so they weren’t the first things anyone saw anymore. “Everyone covered the wedding.”

It had been Kahmora’s wish, some of the press even invited in for part of the reception, and Sutan almost wished that he had been smart enough to protest.

“Your google results?” Violet put her jacket on it’s hook, Sutan doing the same thing.

“Yes?” Sutan kneeled to take off his shoes, taking Violet’s shoes when she stepped out of them to put them up with his own. “Haven’t you googled me? When we first met?” He looked up at Violet, who was biting her lip, her white teeth sinking into the plush pink, “Everyone does that.”

“You googled me?” Violet seemed genuinely surprised, like she didn’t believe him.

“Of course I did.”

It was one of the first things Sutan had done after he had dropped Violet off at her apartment after their wine bar date, the name Violet Chachki barely bouncing anything back. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time, had simply put it down to Violet being young and a new professional in the industry, though the lack of both Facebook and an Instagram had seemed strange to him.

“I’m not a psychopath.”

“Hmm…” Violet didn’t say anything more, instead turning around and making her way to the living room to sit down on the couch.

If it had been anyone else, Sutan would have believed this to be a ruse, to be some sort of manipulation, for Violet to be aiming for something, to be acting out in petty jealousy, but she just seemed sad and bewildered, like this whole thing was genuine news to her.

“You truly didn’t know?”

Violet shook her head, her crutches off to the side, her fingers playing with the edge of her skirt.

“Well, fuck.” Sutan groaned. He regretted joking about Kahmora now, but Violet had seemed so okay with it in the moment that he hadn’t even considered her feelings. “I was married, yes. For a time.”

Sutan took a seat on the couch, putting his arm along the back of it. He hated telling the story, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice, Violet deserving to hear it from him.

“The divorce proceedings lasted twice as long as the whole relationship.” He huffed, almost rolling his eyes at how stupid he had been, the tabloids practically celebrating when that information had come out. “We were only actually together for a little over a year.”

Looking back at it now, Sutan could see where it had all gone wrong, everything moving way too fast, he and Kahmora barely knowing each other before they had tied the knot.

As he had gotten older, it had become clear how he was at fault too, how he should have said no and been honest about his feelings, but back then he had just wanted to make Kahmora happy.

“And where is she…”

“My ex-wife lives in LA now. Not an Amrull anymore mind you.”

It was one of the things Sutan had doubled down on with his lawyer, the thought of Kahmora running around with his last name something his younger self hadn’t been able to stomach. He had given up the Malibu beach house and the Malibu cars in exchange, but it had been a small price to pay for the peace of mind.

“If I never have to see her again, I’ll be a happy man, but she still delights in torturing me whenever she can get away with it.”

“Dramatic.” Violet snorted, clearly thinking he was joking, but he wasn’t, Kahmora the main reason he didn’t want to set foot in the state of California.

“She is. It was.” Sutan sighed. “I’ve made a lot of very bad dating mistakes. Like. A lot. Kahmora is the worst but…” Sutan trailed off, realising for the first time that if Violet didn’t know about Kahmora, there was no way she would know about Jinkx.

Fuck.

He almost wanted not to tell her, wanted to hold his tongue and just ignore it, but he knew how he felt when Violet shared about her past, when she finally came to him with something she had kept hidden.

“I was engaged to Jinkx Monsoon. Before Kahmora”

“... Jinkx?” Violet raised an eyebrow, “Jinkx Monsoon? From the theater?”

“And the trust funds and the TV and the child star thing.” Sutan took a deep breath, not believing that he was voluntarily telling the story. “We met during my hardcore clubbing phase, when Raja and I first got to New York.”

If Violet hadn’t looked him up in the tabloids, hadn’t consumed his online presence, she would have no idea about the drugs, about who he used to be, how wild he and all of his friends had been in their early twenties.

“We’d…dance…” Sutan waved his hand, knowing that he was underselling and underselling hard, what they had done a lot closer to lines of coke and orgies than dancing, “And sometimes, whenever either of us were fucked up enough, uh...”

It didn’t feel like the whole truth, because it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to tell Violet how important Jinkx had been to him, how deep their years of friendship had been, how she had done so much for him and how much he had led her down.

“We didn’t actually get…together…until my father’s death…” Sutan paused, talking about his dad still painful even though it had been years, “I never should have asked her to marry me, but I did because she was amazing and loyal and bright and because at that time I couldn’t imagine anyone else ever loving the broken mess I was.”

Sutan swallowed, the words turning his stomach sour.

“We weren’t good for each other, not in the way two functioning adults should be, and I have so many regrets about that period of time.”

More than he’d ever be able to count.

“I feel terrible for how I treated Jinkx.” He sighed, tapping his fingers against the back of the couch. “I was a real dickhead to her, and she didn’t deserve that.”

“Okay.” Violet nodded, her brown eyes resting on his face.

“Okay? That’s all you’re going to say? Okay?” Sutan had expected Violet to explode in fireworks of rage, to do something, anything, more than just listen to his story, and take it all in. “No plate throwing or yelling? No big dramatics and threats of leaving?”

“Sutan, I’m not upset, but I’m not happy either…” Violet sighed, looking down at her hands, which were twisted in the edge of her skirt. “I obviously wish you would have told me, but…I understand.”

“Really?” Sutan took it all in, not truly believing what he was hearing.

“Yes. Besides, in situations like these, keeping secrets, not telling the whole truth…I don’t have a leg to stand on.” Violet shrugged.

“Well you do technically have one good leg left.”

“Oh god,” Violet rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips, the tension thankfully breaking with his bad joke. “Are you always this clever?”

“I’ve been known to have my moments.” Sutan smiled, leaning forward, Violet thankfully accepting as he pressed a kiss to her lips, gratitude and what he almost dared call love blooming in his chest.

***

VIOLET: Do you google people when you meet them? Like look for them online?

PEARL: I know what google means, lmao

PEARL: And of course?

PEARL: Who doesn’t?

PEARL: How else are you supposed to slide into the DM’s ;)?

PEARL: Why?

Violet was lying in the dark, tapping carefully, the light all the way down since Sutan was asleep next to her.

VIOLET: No reason

Violet dropped her phone on the nightstand before lying back down, rolling over on her side so she could look at Sutan.

She had meant it when she said she wasn’t upset with Sutan, but she had also been honest when she said she wasn’t happy.

Mostly, she just felt strange.

Strange about the fact that her boyfriend had an ex-wife that he hadn’t told her about, strange about how casually the phase hardcore clubbing had fallen from his lips, strange at how he had expected her to have breeched his privacy without his consent, but mostly, how he have done that to her.

Violet bit her lip, reaching out to gently touch Sutan’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over it, a satisfied sigh coming from him at the caress.

All it had taken was a simple google search, article upon article popping up, Sutan either in the forefront or background of more pictures than she could count.

It was unsettling to know that she most likely wouldn’t have liked her boyfriend if she had met him when he was her age, the man he had been in his 20s and 30s so different from who she knew now.

She couldn’t blame him for his past, not when she carried around her own burdens, not when she knew how much a person could change because she herself had changed.

That thought settled it, an easy sense of forgiveness washing over Violet, taking away the unease in her chest.

Sutan could look past her difficulties, could care for her even after she had shared her secrets, and she’d be damned if she couldn’t extend the same grace to him.

Violet shuffled, moving so she was lying against Sutan’s chest, her head hiding in his neck. She felt an arm around her waist, a smile spreading on her lips as Sutan’s hand spread out over her back, her boyfriend holding her tight even in his sleep.

She’d forgive him, because he had forgiven her, and because they were worth fighting for, even with their flaws.

***

Fame had to admit that she was impressed with the extent of what was included in Julia and Owen’s new drawing kits.

She had picked them up as an afterthought at the bookstore where she had been looking for Patrick’s Christmas presents. Her husband was notoriously difficult to buy for, his unspoken wish lists only ever filled with books or tennis equipment. Normally, she would have found books for Bianca too, but this year that thought had only made her stomach sour, so instead of looking at the biographies, she had drifted to the children's section, where she had filled her basket to the brim with gifts for the Sanderson kids.

“Auntie Fame?”

“Yes honey?” Fame looked up from her drawing over at Julia, the little girl sitting next to her at the table, a glittery purple pen in her hand. Owen was across from them, while Kelly lounged nearby with her legs slung over the side of an armchair, listening to something with her new noise-cancelling headphones.

“I wanna do that-” Julia pointed at Fame’s drawing, and Fame smiled. Galactica didn’t do any kind of children’s wear, but Fame had drawn a selection of princess gowns, the sparkles and colors from the kit practically begging to be used for some glittery fun. “I wanna draw princesses too.”

“Well,” Fame smiled, “What’s holding you back?”

“It’s too hard,” Julia pouted her lips. Fame looked at Julia’s drawing, the stick figures she’d produced only vaguely humanoid in the way that was unique to children's drawings.

“It takes time to get good at something.” Fame ran a hand over Julia’s hair, the black locks collected into a high ponytail with a butterfly attached to it, “You simply have to practice, and try, and try again.”

“Mine’s already good!” Owen proclaimed, holding up his picture of what Fame guessed was probably a robot, though she couldn’t be positive, and Julia collapsed dramatically, dropping her head down on the table.

“Oh no!” she moaned, and Fame had to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh, the level of drama truly remarkable.

***

“There!” Trixie watched Katya’s entire face light up, an excited giggle leaving her.

They were in Target, discounted Christmas decorations all around them. It was an annual tradition of theirs to go raid the Target out in Brooklyn for everything it was worth.

“Isn’t he the cutest?!” Katya held up a black bird that was wearing earmuffs in red and green and a multicolored scarf.

“Is that a penguin or an owl?” Trixie took a sip of his gingerbread latte.

“Does it matter?” Katya smiled, putting it into the cart. “Ooh! Look! He has a little foxy friend!”

Trixie laughed, following behind Katya as she went through the store, grabbing everything that caught her fancy. With Trixie’s salary, they didn’t need to do this in Target, and they certainly didn’t need to do it when everything went on discount, but he knew he wouldn’t find this ritual of theirs anywhere near as fun if they had gone to some fancy store.

Part of the joy of their Christmas collection was that it was eclectic, that they hadn't just swiped a credit card in a department store and bought out entire displays.

Trixie loved their stuff because it came from a million different places, but mostly, he loved it because he had found it all with Katya.

He watched as Katya picked up an entire case of leftover forest animals, the sweater she was wearing tightening around her belly. It was starting to get more and more noticeable, the woman of his dreams slowly filling out with his son or daughter.

Trixie couldn’t wait to meet them, though he hoped that little Killer would grow up to sincerely love Christmas.

Otherwise, they’d have some tough years ahead.

***

It had been another blissfully perfect day for Courtney--lounging on the beach, body surfing in the cool water, sipping sweet and delicious rum-filled cocktails, then getting all dressed up for a romantic dinner, where she got to stare at Bianca’s beautiful face in the candlelight, holding her hand and listening to her stories.

And now, she lay sprawled across the bed, the alcohol still in her system making everything spin pleasantly as Bianca knelt between her legs, driving her to delirious ecstasy over and over. She gave in to the thrilling dizziness, letting go, mind soaring and body reacting on auto.

“Angel…” Bianca’s voice was the first thing that snapped her back into the present, as she lifted her head, chest still heaving. There was a naughty grin on Bianca’s face, her dark eyes glistening in the moonlight as she asked, “You still got more in you, huh?”

Courtney nodded, gasping out, “Don’t stop,” as her fingers gripped Bianca’s hair tighter.

“Hold that thought…”

“Wait,” Courtney whimpered, reaching out as Bianca slipped from her grasp, her head lolling pathetically on the pillow. “Come back.”

Bianca chuckled, pawing through her suitcase and pulling out a large canvas bag, which she unzipped and then dumped unceremoniously on the bed.

“See anything you like?”

[angst-fairygodmother]

I loved your latest SVU Carisi fic! I would love something with Barba, please! Maybe something where he asks a coworker (either a detective or someone from the ME's office) to an event, either because he's lonely or embarrassed to go alone again.

A/N: Can I just say, I appreciate how general these prompts are for SVU because they really give me the room to go where the whim takes me? Because I do (not that I don’t love prompt lists, but this style just works for me with this fandom). I hope you enjoy the direction that this one ended up. Also, I watched several Barba episodes and a bunch of clips for “research” and that was a hole I was not planning to end up back in, but I still love him, apparently. Not quite as much as the first time around, but enough. Word Count: 2804 Tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster

“Mr. Barba! What brings you to my dark little dungeon corner of the world?” you asked, smiling brightly as the ADA strolled into the morgue like it was Central Park at noon.

“Y/N, please. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Rafael, or at least drop the ‘Mr.’ We’ve seen each other’s worst, there’s no need to be so formal,” he said, returning your smile with a small one of his own and a rueful shake of his head.

It was true that you and Rafael had known each other for years, since your school days when your stubborn and shameless self had wormed your way into the DA’s office, allegedly as part of a research project for school (a story that didn’t hold up when you never left). And he, still a young, brash ADA (not that the brash part had changed or ever would), had largely been stuck dealing with you as you poked through records and cases and pointed out all the places that they could have done better with handling the forensics of things. They never chased you out, because it came in handy over time and you had a charm that made your Nancy Drew nosiness, as he had nicknamed it, more amusing than annoying. By the time you had graduated, you were practically a part of the inner circle at that office, and it was easy to leverage that (along with your shining grades of course) into a prime position as a medical examiner.

Of course, the most valuable thing you had gotten out of all of it was still the friendship of Rafael Barba. He’d encouraged you through exams and romantic breakups and personal stresses without blinking and you’d done as much of the same for him as you could. He’d poured your inebriated ass into more taxies than you could count and sent you just as many hangover-cure breakfast deliveries. You’d laughed together, cried together, held each other up when the world seemed to be trying to crush you.

And still, at work at least, you insisted on calling him “Mr. Barba.”

“We have, but you’re also the one who talks about the need to keep professional lives separate.” You shrugged with a smirk. “Besides, it amuses you how much me calling you ‘Mr. Barba’ makes you squirm.”

He rolled his eyes. “I brought lunch.” He held up a familiar paper bag, no doubt containing sandwiches and raspberry turnovers from your favorite diner.

“Not dignifying me with a proper response I see,” you teased. “And bringing me food. Either I’m in trouble or you’re trying to bribe me for a favor. I hope it’s the first one, it’s always more fun.”

Your smirk widened and you waggled your eyebrows at him, waving him over into the little lounge area outside your office and pouring two paper cups of tepid coffee. He silently passed you your sandwich, hoping that you didn’t notice the light blush creeping up around his ears, or his quick intake of breath as you bit into it and moaned involuntarily. You both chewed in silence for a while, and you tried to just enjoy his company, as you usually did. But there was a strange tension in the air, unsettling the comfort of the silence and putting you on edge as you waited for whatever he came to talk to you about.

“Alex and Yelina’s tenth anniversary is coming up,” he said finally, trying to hide the strain in his voice, even though he knew you knew him well enough to notice it anyway.

You nodded silently, a sympathetic grimace on your face. You knew how much it had stung to him to attend the wedding and watch his childhood best friend marry his first love.

“They’re having a charity gala to celebrate. And personally invited me to go.”

You sucked in a hiss through your teeth. “Ouch.”

He nodded dejectedly. “I can’t say no to them. But I don’t know if I can get through the evening.”

“I could write you a doctor’s note. Fake some sort of illness preventing you from…I don’t know being in that large of a crowd or something?”

He laughed, and you smiled at the sound, knowing that it meant things weren’t quite as bad as they could be, and you didn’t need to break into your secret bourbon stash to fix them.

“Actually,” he said, buttoning his jacket and then immediately unbuttoning it again, as you often saw him do before a particularly difficult argument in court. “I was hoping you’d come with me, as my plus one. It’d really help to have a friendly face that I know can hold their own against the vultures.”

You sat in stunned silence for several minutes, staring at him. Your mind raced. Had he just asked you on a date? And if so, did you want to say yes?

When you didn’t answer, he shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat to get your attention. You jumped, startled out of your thoughts by the noise.

“I don’t want to impose; you were the first person I thought of. I know it’s not really your scene. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, as if to tell you to forget the whole thing.

“Oh. Sorry, it took me a minute. I guess I just didn’t expect it. I thought you’d ask Olivia or someone, you know. I’d be happy to go with you though. I’d love to, really,” you started at the same time, leading the two of you to be talking over each other like fools.

You both stopped, you trailing off more than his abrupt end, and then you locked eyes and you giggled. After a few seconds of delay, he joined your laughter and soon, there were tears in your eyes and he seemed to be struggling for breath as you took absolute joy in the ridiculousness of it.

“Honestly Raf, I don’t know why you even questioned it,” you said when you had gotten yourself under control again. “Of course I’ll go with you. What else are best friends for?”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, relief evident on his face.

“So how fancy are we talking? Am I going to need formal wear, or will a nice cocktail dress that covers all the bits be enough?” your eyebrows wiggled again and he chuckled.

~

The night of the event, you were just putting the finishing touches on your appearance – making sure everything was perfect down to every hair in the right place, but not like you tried too hard, wanting to seem like this was not as big of a deal as you had slowly worked yourself up into thinking it might be – when a knock on your door alerted you to Rafael’s arrival. When you answered, you were momentarily stunned, a tux shouldn’t seem all that different than his usual three-piece suits, and yet…

Luckily, he seemed just as thrown off by your appearance, and the pair of you just stared at each other.

Finally, you broke the spell, gesturing lamely behind you. “I just have to uh, grab my bag, and then I’ll be good to go.” You tried to smile at him, but you were pretty sure it came off as more of a discomforted grimace.

And why shouldn’t you be discomforted? All this time, there had never been anything between you (though you would be the first to admit that you had found him attractive when the two of you met). And now, suddenly, you couldn’t look at him without feeling that fizzy, almost nauseous twist in your gut, the flutter of your pulse at the sight of his smile, the overwhelming desire to absolutely wreck his perfectly styled hair and pressed lapel as you pulled him close and ran your hands over every inch of him in a sensuous war for dominance. You tried to tell yourself it was just the occasion, the fact that he had asked you to be his guest to an event that clearly meant a lot to him, and that it really meant nothing. If you could maintain the lie for long enough, you pretended to believe, everything would go back to normal.

The car ride over to the event hall was short, the time filled with a primer on the various important people (both politically and to him) that would be at the party. Most of it was information you already knew, but still, you let him talk, knowing that it made him feel calmer. And then you were linking arms with him, hand delicately wrapped around the fold of his elbow and walking through the grand arching doorway.

“Thus, into hell,” you muttered too low for even him to hear, forcing a smile.

Introductions were made, hands were shook, the air next to cheeks were kissed. You had not yet met the couple of the hour, but you felt like you had met the entire rest of their world, dragged into mind-numbing small talk about stocks and board meetings, policies and constituents (where they were numbers and dollar signs and goals rather than people). At some point, you were separated from Rafael by some women who were absolutely determined to drag you into their conversation about some community center building charity and the related press benefits of visiting the construction site. They all flinched and tittered uncomfortably when you pointed out that their manicures would get ruined and they’d just be interrupting the professionals actually doing the work and wouldn’t it be better to just do a ribbon-cutting photo op when the project was over?

Finally, you managed to extricate yourself and found Rafael by the bar, sucking down a bourbon like no one’s business. He turned to the bartender as you approached and already had a vodka soda waiting when you reached him.

“My hero,” you said taking a deep drink. “Don’t ever leave me alone with those people again.”

“That bad?” he asked, eyes dancing as he smiled at you over the rim of his glass.

“I think I felt my soul exit my body. Twice. Why are you drinking so heavily already?”

“Alex and Yelina just arrived. I managed to duck them, but not before I got to bear witness to the whole…loving couple photo op.”

“Oh. I’m sorry Raf. Still, if they’re here, we should go say our hellos. The sooner we do the sooner we can blow this popsicle stand, yeah?”

He grimaced and finished his drink. “I suppose you’re right.”

He turned to walk away and you tugged him back to face you.

“Wait, here,” you said, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie, fingers skimming his throat in the process and you swore you felt him flinch at the contact. “You were crooked,” you explained.

~

“Rafael!” Yelina said, smiling brightly and pulling him in for a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that,” he said, smiling at her in a way that made a soft twinge in your chest that you tried to pretend wasn’t jealousy.

“Congratulations, both of you,” he said, patting Alex on the shoulder.

“And who is this?” another woman in the crowd, who you thought had been introduced as the wife of some other senator but you hadn’t been paying that much attention, said, gesturing to you. “I mean I know this party is doubling as a charity gala, but you didn’t need to bring an example case.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped, glaring at her.

“Oh you know what I mean darling. It’s not an insult, just stating facts that you obviously don’t belong. It’s little signs, you really do look…fine. But the hair, the clearance rack clothes, and when is the last time you had your nails done?”

“Y/N is one of the most brilliant medical professionals in New York City,” Rafael cut in before you could respond, curling his arm protectively around your waist. “And not that it’s any measure of character, looks fantastic by the way. But it’s an organic, genuine beauty so it’s no surprise that you don’t see it Mrs. Johnsville. After all, you haven’t seen your own genuine appearance in, I’d guess twenty years? Or maybe it’s jealousy causing you to say such spiteful things to the most incredible person in the room. Either way, I’d suggest you stop, before someone brings up your husband’s scandals and causes a scene.”

You turned your head to stare at him, lost for words. There was a not-so-subtle threat in his words, but that didn’t matter to you in light of the things he was saying about you, or the adoring way he said them.

He turned back to his old friends. “Alex, Yelina, I hate to do this, but I’m not going to stand around and let someone insult my date that way. So we’re leaving, but maybe we can get dinner sometime soon and catch up.”

“Of course, Rafi,” Alejandro said, his polite political host smile edging its way toward a smirk. “The four of us will have to do that.”

~

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rafael said, sighing as you both sat in the car. “She had no right to speak to you that way. I…”

“Stop, Raf. It’s not your fault. And you jumped in like a knight in shining armor, no harm done.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I’m a little disappointed that I got all dressed up for you and I didn’t even get to dance…” you stuck your lower lip out in an exaggerated pout that made him laugh. “But I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”

“And for having dinner with Alex and Yelina and I. Assuming you’re willing to. Which I totally understand if you’re not.”

“I was wondering if you were going to bring up that invitation,” you laughed. “And of course I’m willing. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to to get it through your skull, I’ll do anything for you, Raf.”

Suddenly you had a brilliant idea and you looked over at him with a grin.

“Uh-oh, I know that look…”

“You know what’s better than dancing and wining and dining when you’re dressed to the nines?” you said, eyes aglow the longer you thought about it.

“What?”

“Being dressed to the nines to eat greasy diner burgers! Let’s go to Hank’s!” You grabbed the hand that rested on the center console in both of yours, pulling it close to you and batting your eyelashes pleadingly at him.

He groaned and shook his head. “Alright.”

~

“You know,” Rafael said, shifting nervously as he walked you to the door of your building. “There was a bit of a wreck in the middle, but all in all, this wasn’t such a bad first date.”

“Is that what this was?” you asked, heart skipping a beat as your both stopped on the steps.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

“A little. I mean, you could have told me sooner. I would have done way cuter shit all night.”

He laughed, looking at you softly. “I don’t need you to do cuter shit. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“See, shit like that,” you waved your hands around in frustration. “I don’t have a good comeback compliment for you because I wasn’t expecting it. You threw me off my game, charming bastard.”

“Y/N…”

“If this was a date, I believe a goodnight kiss is traditional,” you smiled.

He leaned in, close enough for you to smell the cologne he wore and the alcohol he’d had earlier and the spearmint breath mint he’d picked up from beside the diner’s register when he’d insisted on paying. His lips brushed lightly against yours but he quickly pulled away, just enough to look you in the eyes.

“You’d better not be calling that my kiss,” you teased.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Sighing in exasperation, you did as you’d imagined earlier and grabbed him by the lapels to tug him closer and press your lips to his. He sighed against your mouth, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your head gently and hold you closer, the other arm wrapping tightly around your waist. Your lips parted, opening up to him and your tongues danced together like it was what they were designed for.

Gasping for air, you both pulled away, and he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered.

“Night’s not over, yet,” you answered with a shrug.

“What?”

The words felt inevitable, but right, as they worked their way through your throat.

“Do you want to come upstairs, Raf? We can watch a movie or…dance…”

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 20

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

Happy New Year!!!!!! Here’s a party and a hot guy loving on you - and you don’t even have to leave your home ;)

I haven’t been to many therapist offices after I started high school. This one was free, on student-life. Reproduced images of the sea were comforting enough, but it was the dreary stained carpet that reminded me where I was. 

“Do you think they’re related to the night you were assaulted?” 

“Yes. But I don’t know how to get rid of them. I lose sleep and then when I do sleep, I have these nightmares and I wake up more restless than if I’d just stayed up all night.” 

 “Hm. And how do you feel about Harry?” 

 “Harry?” 

 She nodded. “Yes, the boy in your dreams.” Her French manicured nails squeezed the top of her clipboard.

 “That’s not an easy question.” 

 “Try.” 

 I sighed. “Okay…” The painted seagull in her office looked like an on-clearance print at TJ Maxx, and suddenly I wished I’d called my mother for her own version of therapy instead. Bargain shopping. “I think I hate him. But then I know I don’t. But then… I don’t necessarily like him either.” 

 “Do you love him?” 

I laughed. “No, I don’t love him.”

 “Why do you laugh?”

 “I said I almost hated him and you ask me if I love him!” But my voice was a little too loud. The question stayed with me, stirring in my mind. “I think I’d know if I loved him.” 

 “Love looks different to different people. Finding a healthy version of love for yourself and your partner is where things can go awry. Or right.” 

 I remembered Harry and I talking at Alta about Madame Bovary, and how I’d told him that people love to the best of their abilities, from what they’ve learnt by their circumstances. Silence weighed in the room, and I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate on my feelings. Bleh.

 “I don’t know,” I finally said. “But if this is what love looks like to him… We’re not even technically dating so this question doesn’t even apply!” I laughed again. “But then… even if we were, then...  it’s not enough.” 

 “And what would be enough for you?”

 “Stability.” 

 “And do you think this is possible with him?” 

 “Umm…” Zayn’s voice popped in my head - Harry was a magnet for infamy - and I laughed. I laughed, and I laughed...“No.”

 “And why is that?” 

 “Because he self-sabotages. And he says things he doesn’t mean.” 

 “Such as...?”

 A puff of breath left my lips. “Like last night, he said I didn’t have a life. And then he was comparing me to another girl. Viv. She’s like his… sister, basically. She grew up with him. But… he got really defensive and said at least she fucks me. But the fact that he said I don’t have a life?? A LIFE?? I mean shit, it’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my dreams is it?” 

 She shook her head. “It’s very important for you not to blame yourself. Show yourself the same kindness you’d show your friends. Renny, for example.” 

 Be kind to yourself. 

 I nodded. Those were the words my mother would say whenever I’d critique myself. Just like all those times before, the words registered, but it didn’t change anything about the frustration I felt. I was the one dumb enough to let him in. I’d let myself be dragged into him, even with every red flag hitting me in the face. I was collecting them for a meme bouquet at this point!

 “Do you believe him?” she asked. 

 It took me a minute to hear her. 

 “The words he said to you,” she said. “That you don’t have a life.” 

 A timer beeped on her phone. She muted it. “I’d like you to write out what you want in your life for next time. Not what anybody else wants. But what Y/N wants. When you see it written out, no matter how silly it seems, having concrete answers might help.”

 --------------

 I was staring at my notes page, trying to think of what I wanted. I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask her what she meant by that. Did she mean career goals? Education goals? Relationship goals? What did this have to do with ending my nightmares? 

 A text at the top of my phone distracted me from the blank page. 

 Kiki: “Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. Get your hands on the special airhead pills from Harry’s and bring them to the DG Pretty Please Party next week. On the DL obvi.”  

Viv chimed in on the group chat. “Congrats bitch! It’ll be fun for all of us.” She included the devil emoji. 

 This is what I got for stalling up until the last minute to walk into work. The practice was now a blatant reminder that Harry was out of my life and it didn’t help whenever I saw Lionel. It felt weird that I was seeing his dad more than him. Wrong, even. 

 Voices carried through the lot along with the clicking of heels. I turned my head. 

 Boss Lady Samantha was headed towards the elevator. 

 Shit, Y/N. Shit shit shit.

 I got out, quietly closing the door. Better to walk with my boss than walk in late after her, right? Her red hair was let down today, ringlet curls in full effect. I could meet her at the elevator before it arrived.

 But right when I was about to shout out hold the elevator Lionel walked right behind her. And I mean RIGHT behind her - there was hardly room for a Bible between them. 

 I hid behind my car, unsure if I was supposed to be seeing this. 

 Their voices were too low to hear, but his arm lingered at her lower back before the elevator opened. She got in. Alone. Lionel looked over his shoulder and I ducked further. 

 Through Grandpa’s windows, I saw the elevator door close. Lionel waved goodbye to Samantha and he pressed the button again. 

 Before chickening out, my shoulders straightened. I shouldn’t have to be the one hiding. I jogged to make it. His brows shot up in surprise as he held the elevator for me. The kindness I’d gotten used to seeing in his eyes looked hesitant this time. 

 “A little late today?” he asked, as soon as I’d made it in. 

 I avoided his eyes, nodded.  It was a quiet elevator ride. 

 ------------

 My family’s house was a ten minute drive from the practice. Enough drive time to sit on what I’d seen outside Coast Shores Medicine. It could’ve been friendly. I didn’t have to do anything about this. But in my bones, I knew that friendly isn’t what I’d seen. Lionel avoided me the rest of the day, assigning me to print out billing statements. I hadn’t seen them make out or anything, but there was a certain intimacy I couldn’t write off right away. Did Mrs. de Saude know about his close work relationships? Did Harry? 

 The sickening uneasiness dissipated when I heard my parent’s Home Improvement HGTV hour. Dad was already passed out on the couch, snoring at a whopping 8 PM when I walked through the door. Ignoring Mom’s tutting of “they keep you too late,” we went to my bedroom. 

 “Pick the nude ones,” Mom said, adjusting the spectacles she only pulled out on rare occasions (magazine reading and shoe selections). “It makes your legs look longer.” It looked like there was something more she wanted to say. 

 I adjusted them in the mirror, wearing the blush dress I’d bought for my aunt’s beach wedding almost a year prior. It’d never been worn. Her Spanish fiancé she’d met three months prior stole her TV set and ran off with his gay lover a week before. As I stood, the dress just barely touched the floor. Simple, really, but the way the thin straps exposed my chest rendered it elegant. I felt like I needed a long cigarette and fur coat to make it complete.  

 Without context, Mother suddenly burst into an annoyed huff. 

 “You okay?” I asked.

 “Hm?” Her lashes fluttered as if she hadn’t realized she’d made a noise. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Your father just took another one of those sleeping pills. You should never get too dependent on medication, Y/N. Drink warm milk or something.”

 “Mom.”

 “I’m serious!” Her stony face certainly wasn’t comical. 

 “I know.”

 She looked me over in the dress again and caught herself, pulling me in for a rushed hug. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. She rocked me a little. “It’s just been a little rough this week.” She squeezed me tighter, then let me go. All negative energy shoved into a box that’d spring open when we all least expected it. “Have a good night tonight. Say hello to Harry for me!”

 When I walked to the car she threw out, “And tell him next time he can ask you with a Cartier ring! HA! I’m joking!! ... Kind of!!!” 

 I smiled, waving to her at the gate as I got into my Grandpa mobile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Golden Boy wasn’t my date.  

 ---------

There were two cops for every solo cup I could see littered on the ground. They patrolled the streets, but the frat house seemed unphased and restored to its former glory as I walked with Andre. Club music pounded beyond the doors, practically shaking the windows. Girls huddled up outside, holding each other’s hair back and trying to block anyone’s view from the bile, as the guys snickered over their shoulders and some pretended not to see. But the cops weren’t here to reprimand for underage drinking and public intoxication tonight. They were on watch. Stationed around the perimeter of the house and on either end of the street. 

 They were waiting for something else. For somebody else. 

 Andre seemed oblivious, practically skipping past them he was so excited. I, on the other hand, was already limping from the nude pumps. 

 “Wanna switch shoes?” he called back. 

 “Don’t make a deal you aren’t willing to keep,” I smiled, quirking a brow. “The nude would actually match your navy suit…”

 He’d already walked on, fist bumping the bouncer who raised up a professional-grade camera and snapped a photo of us. When my eyes recovered from the flash, I spotted Officer Ramirez from the uniforms just beyond the frat’s ramshackle fence. He was already watching me. He raised two fingers above his brow and I nodded, curtly, even though I wanted to shrink inside myself. I hadn’t had the time to think about what I would say if he contacted me again, or if I should be the one to reach out to him.

 Andre led me inside, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. It raised ten degrees just from stepping inside. The boys were in Bond suits, but most had abandoned their jackets wherever they could - on the banister, the couch beneath the staircase, or the entrance hall. The girls had dressed up, too. This was the most covered up I think I’d seen some of them, though others still opted for above-the-knee slips.

 “Oi, where’s your drink?!” Niall’s familiar voice shouted above the bass.

 He pulled Andre into a side hug before we reached the dancefloor. When he saw me, Niall practically fell over. 

 “Y/N! What’re you doing here?” He spluttered, whiskey in his breath. The knot of his tie was already to his chest, but he loosened it even more. He looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Renny’s just gone to the bathroom.” 

 “She’s my date,” Andre stepped in, placing an arm around my shoulder. It was completely platonic but Niall’s face went to stone. 

 Suddenly it cracked, and he laughed, running a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh, shit.” He laughed again. “Shit!” 

 Andre smiled, unaware of anything else besides the fact that Niall must be proud he showed up with a date. He patted Niall’s shoulder. “We’re going to see the big bro, I’ll find you later.” Andre nodded his head for me to follow, leaving Niall cackling to himself in the entranceway.

 “Niall’s THE. MAN,” he put his hands up for emphasis. “He’s my favorite in the house besides my big. We gotta say hi, then you can run off. Oh, Renny’s here too!” He squeezed my shoulders as if to excite me, as if she’d be the reason I’d stay. Loved the girl, but I knew she’d be back on top of Niall five minutes after she was out. I just didn’t want to have to watch. 

 I wrung my hands together, growing nervous. I knew the reason Niall had reacted that way was because Harry was going to be here. I knew this coming into it. But I’d been expecting him to ignore me the entire night. With Niall’s reaction, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What had Harry told Niall?

 Someone sloshed their beer on me as I passed, and I turned sour, rolling my eyes as Andre pushed us forward. I picked up the pace before he could notice I’d stopped and wiped the glare off my face. Or, tried. I probably just looked constipated now. 

 WHY WAS HIDING EMOTION SO HARD?? 

 I felt bad feeling so annoyed. Andre was excited. I should be excited, right? Sloshed beer and sweaty bodies came with the territory. Though I’d forgotten how humid it got in here. Hell and Florida were probably cooler. I picked up the ends of my dress, hoping for some sort of ventilation to reach parts of me that were on the verge of overheating. 

 The coffee tables and couches had been moved from the center of the living room to the fringes beneath the stairwell to make designated smoking and dancing sections. I could’ve stayed on the outside of the dance crowd. Hell, I could’ve joined the spaced-out smokers on the couch. But I didn’t. I followed Andre to the middle of the dance floor. I could barely see above the tops of people’s heads until we reached a bit of a clearing. And by clearing, I meant the sweaty dancers in front of us who made a break for freedom and gave us about ten seconds of space before other bodies rushed to fill it. 

 I felt him before I saw him. A tiny prick of consciousness that directed my gaze. And Andre’s finger.

 “AYYYY!!!!!” Andre pointed to the DJ booth, waving his hands as he hollered.

 Even with the rocking vibration of the bass that chattered my teeth, each nerve in my body went alert. Harry stood, flashing a white smile to the crowd before downing the rest of whatever potion was in his cup. I hated how my stomach clenched just by seeing him. He saw Andre and his smile grew, grabbing the mic. I was still unnoticed, hidden by dim lighting and nameless peers.

 “Who’s ready for us to win tomorrow!?” His voice was low, demanding. It was a question for the crowd, but he was looking at Andre. I could sense the intensity even there, and it was then I realized it couldn’t be just me who feels so vulnerable around Harry. Each person he traps in his gaze stays there, until he lets them go. 

 The house erupted in cheers, but I was locked in place. The suit he was wearing looked similar to the one from the Halloween gala, and every bit of him looked just as stunning. His beautiful body swayed on the makeshift stage. 

 “Then let’s see you jump in-” His hand held up 5, 4, 3, 2… He spun another song and the crowd sprung from the floor before crashing back down. They jumped to the beat he made. A modern-day puppet master. 

 Andre wrapped an arm around me as he jumped. So I did, too. 

 “That’s my big!!” he yelled, mid-air.

 “WHAT??”

 He pointed to the DJ booth, but there was no one there besides Harry. 

 “.... HARRY??! HARRY’S YOUR- your…” I stopped jumping the same second Harry saw us together. It’s funny. It takes only a second to flip a dime on its head. His party boy mask dropped in an instant. The low lighting turned his eyes black, but they couldn’t conceal the daggers he shot straight at me.

 “I have to use the bathroom,” I muttered. 

 Andre nodded. “S’UP THE STAIRS!” He found a friend nearby and latched on to him instead. 

 The small (okay, medium) part of me filled with nothing but Petty™ wanted Harry to see me with his little. But another part of me couldn’t handle his judgmental glare. Somehow, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here tonight to make him jealous. That I was so obsessed with him I’d found another in to the frat. I didn’t want him to think he controlled any part of my heart. What did it say that I ran away at first sight, though?

 I’d already done it. It didn’t matter. Either way, I didn’t win.

 I raced upstairs, weaving my way between couples sitting on the stairs, hoping that the line for the restroom was really long and Renny hadn’t already left. It was, and she was next in line. 

 “Oh my God, what are you doing here?!” she screeched, arms out and eyes squinted until I could no longer see her pupil. 

 “Why do people keep asking me that.” 

 She pulled me into an extra-long, extra-tight Renny hug. “Love yousoooomuch,” she rushed. Her breath smelled like Niall as she pulled away. She lifted the cup to my lips and I shook my head. She frowned. 

 “I talked with Niall,” she said. “He says Harry’s just going” - she hiccupped - “through a lot right now. S’best to leave him alone.” 

 The other girls in line perked up at the mention of his name, subconsciously leaning closer. I huffed. “Trust me. I am.” 

 When three girls stumbled out of the only bathroom stall, Renny rushed in. “Thank God I was about to pee on the carpet.” She tried tugging me in with her, but my eye was on the end of the hall. And the stupid DG pretty please.

 “I’ll be back,” I muttered, squeezing her hand. 

 “Nooooo,” she drawled. 

 I squished her cheeks, checked her pupils. She didn’t need me to hold her hair back this time. I gave her cheek a lil slap.

 “I’ll go with you next time you have to go. Which will be in like... twenty minutes. You broke the seal rookie!” I teased. 

 I didn’t even bother looking over the railing at the party below to see if he was watching me. I still had my DG task and a nonrefundable deposit to think about. I didn’t think I’d get many chances to be in this house again unless I swindled Andre or Niall into letting me in. But that would require an explanation, and I wasn’t sure I could tell them that. 

 Forget explanations. I needed to do it now. Lots of noise. Tons of distractions. I’d just think of it as… borrowing?

 His door was locked and I groaned, kicking it and leaving a smudge beside all the others. I reached for a bobby pin in my purse and put it to work. I’d done it before in his bedroom, I could do it again here. The curve of the hallway protected me from onlookers waiting in line in the bathroom. Downstairs was a mixed bag. People could probably see through the railings running along the top floor. 

 Not that they’d think to look. 

 My knees were starting to hurt by the time I heard it click. I crept in, and for some reason, I expected his room to look different. But it was still the same. Dusty desk across from a queen-sized bed. Only one photograph atop his bedside mantle. And it didn’t smell like sweaty soccer clothes, but clean. With hints of a woodland spice and books. It felt like eons had passed since I was first here, undressing him like the drunken baby he’d been. As an act of betrayal, my body rushed at the thought of how his fingers had looped around my belt loops, tugging me closer. I swallowed, the image of his tightened pants expanding in my head. He’d almost been hard, then. 

 It was then, at that moment, that I decided that the one sip of alcohol I’d had must have been spiked with SOMETHING because I would NOT be that girl. I would NOT. I reFUSED TO LET MYSELF-

 Seconds later, my fingertips grazed his soft gray sheets. He’d been sprawled out right about here, and the rush of seeing unseen skin on Harry had been too intoxicating an offer to refuse. The ghost of that rush flowed through me again as my memory played it over like a movie. Close-ups and panning shots - Down his toned chest to tattoos speckled along tan skin, tattoos that had been seemingly doodles, but now held much more meaning now that I knew of his history with the ocean. For his sister. My body leant down before I knew what I was doing, and I inhaled. The lingering aroma of his body chemistry altering his cologne: musky, a little spice, and warmth.

 Even if every ounce of me wanted to dislike him, the legitimate biology behind my body responded to a chemistry I couldn’t control. 

 “What are you doing?”

 He caught me on my knees, with one hand clutched in the sheets.

 Fuckity FUCK-

 He could whip out PSYCHO magazine informing people of highly-dangerous murderers with my mugshot plastered across the cover - and I’d believe him in that moment. Oh my gosh. Omgomgomg. He didn’t say what I expected him to say when he swayed in, though. 

 “Andre. Really?” He laughed to himself, but it was cold. “Fucking” - he stumbled, leaning on the desk chair to catch himself- “really?” 

 It wasn’t the alcohol that’d put him on edge. I’d seen him handle liquor before, but this time he looked… different. I stood up, realizing his eyes were racking down my dress. I crept towards him, hoping to make it past the door. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was mortified. I’d just looked like an absolute fucking psychopath AND I’d snuck into his bedroom. Maybe I could distract him. Maybe he was too drunk to ask me-

 “What’re you doing here?”

 “What are we… all doing here? At parties?”

 “…in my room,” he clarified.

 Welp. My philosophical question fell flat. Wouldn’t be the first time.

 I waltzed past him, tight-lipped. In defense of my dignity, I still didn’t owe him anything. Not after how he’d treated me. 

 “Hey,” his arm jutted out, blocking my way. His brows crossed as he turned to a petulant boy. “S’rude to not answer.” 

 My blood boiled. “You are not about to give me a lesson on how bad it is to ignore people right now. Nor on being rude.” 

 “Can give you another one.” 

 He reached for me, but I stepped back, somewhat living in the hurt that flashed in his eyes at my rejection. 

 “You’re not leaving.” But his demand sounded like a plead. 

 “Thought you didn’t want me around you,” I scoffed, tearing past him. “Just because you’re drunk or high or whatever the fuck it is you are right now, doesn’t mean you can just… get a free pass! For a week! A whole week of awful-” I turned quickly, too frustrated to find the words. I took a step towards the door but- 

 “Y/N.” He was right behind me. His breath warmed the nape of my neck, the delicate hairs standing on end. No matter how much of an absolute mess he was, my body didn’t know better. I could practically feel him behind me, his presence radiating an alarm that blared through my veins. I wanted him. Badly. He trailed a finger down my arm, and his hand brushed against my own against my side. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 His fingers gingerly interlaced with mine, turning me around. 

 Something wet was on my cheek. I touched it, quickly rubbing it away in horror. Why were tears running down my face?! What unfair cruelty was this!? He saw my tears and leant down, suddenly defeated, pulling my body with him.

 “Why did’ya ever want me hm?” His nose went along my jaw. Full lips pressed against the base turned my legs weak. There was an underlying desperation to his words though, a prayer in his kiss. But my thoughts were turning anything but holy. 

 “Who says I did…” I wanted to pull away, ask him why he’d used past tense or why he’d completely ignored me this past week, but I was frozen by the softness of his hands. Self-respect was surely slipping away each moment I lingered. I could literally see Jane Austen parting the heavens and sticking her angelic head through Harry’s room to shame me with a glare. I do all this mental work to try and figure this guy out and… for what? I should be waltzing out that door, declaring I’d never talk to him again. I should give up messy and confused and pursue my own sanity. But the air only ever turned electric with him, in all his messiness, in all this confusion… and each time the spark appeared, it pushed us closer together until he was here, like this, soft hands gently running along my lower back, skilled fingertips feeling the dress fall slightly inwards at my waist, tracing a map of uncharted waters… 

 “You’re not thinking straight,” I breathed. And that went for both of us. 

 “Au contraire, I’m thinking clearer than I ever ‘ave.” There was a swirling madness shining through, but he bat his eyes and it was veiled again, vanished beneath the dark surface. He tilted his head, appraising my body, noticing my legs were no longer tensed to run, but in apprehension for another reason completely. A smirk settled in. “Why do you still want me?” he demanded, pulling me against him towards the bed.

 “Arrogant ass,” I sniped, but I landed on him anyway. His fingers tightened around my waist, a hand snaking up behind to entwine with my hair. I felt him harden beneath me as he pulled my head to the side, just the right amount of rough. But he stalled over vulnerable skin, lips ghosting featherlight up to my ear. He let out a soft breath and I clenched in anticipation. For once, I had no thoughts. “You should be with me,” he breathed. “Should be mine.” His voice grew frustrated and he practically growled, lips kissing my neck, steady, before they started to suck in a rhythm. The shock of the sensation masked the shock from his words and my back arched, a spider’s shiver crawling down my spine. He stopped suddenly, shooting back like he’d been shocked. His grip softened ‘round the nape of my neck, and he looked so… confused. “Can’t mark you again,” he noted, despondent. But then the corners of his lips twitched up in a smirk. “Least where it’s visible.” My breath caught. His black ink eyes showed the slightest ring of green. I don’t remember lifting my hand, but fingers trailed along dark circles. These were a new development. I shook my head lightly. Something was wrong. This was wrong. I leant in, resting my head against his. “Harry-” but his lips cut me off before I could mention it. 

 I felt like I’d been feeling his lips everywhere but my own. They were eager, but kept pace, switching it up just when I was getting comfortable, slowing to make me feel the soft fullness of raspberry-pink lips. They were pillows, and clouds, and everything else soft and wonderful that I’d want to feel forever. He slipped in his tongue, deepening the kiss, and I ground my body against him, using his shoulders as leverage. 

 This wasn’t me. But I didn’t care enough to think about ‘who I was’ anymore. What did I want? 

 I felt him pulse between my legs. 

 “Harry,” I bit my lip, and I knew then. I’ve been wanting more, I’ll always want more. I was more aware than ever of an emptiness he could fill. 

 “Been hard ever since I saw you bouncing in that dress,” he said gruffly. “With fucking Andr- ahh...fuck.” I rocked my hips against him in spite, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

 But his head jutted back and came forward again. He looked at me through hooded eyes, and just like that I was sedated by his gaze, my body pausing. He looked like he was about to scold me. “Do it again.” His voice was low. I stalled, looking at the way his lips barely parted. “Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” My hips replied on command, but rebelliously, slowly, feeling the length of him run between the thin underwear that’d cocooned itself against my ridges and folds. I ran my hips back down against his thigh. “Fu-uhck-” He jutted his hips up, turning something wicked when I moaned. The friction from the dress and pressure from my own body rocking against Harry built a tightly coiled knot I wanted desperately to release. And then we were kissing again. Fervent. Eager. A skilled tongue slipping in to dance with my own. He was rock hard against me. I could feel the full outline pressed tight against his slacks now, creating my own mental map. My hands wrapped in his hair, and I pulled, relaxing our pace, rutting myself up with purpose to rotate in a circle at his clothed tip. The noise from his throat wasn’t human, and I felt heavy and light all at the same time when his thumb dug into my chin just under my lower lip. 

 “Wanna help you,” he rumbled. “Will you let me? Won’t you do that for me?” 

 I nodded, wordlessly, and with both hands tight on my hips, he tugged us further back until he was against the pillows, and me, repositioned above him. He pulled us down and we built a rhythm against his thigh, the determination in his stitched brow as he did half the work making it even sexier. He was almost needier than me. There was an urgency to his strong hands as they hiked up my dress, fingertips dancing around and just beneath the band of my underwear. He didn’t pull it off, just gently pushed my hips up and down, then harder, faster, to the damp patch already on his slacks. I was buzzing, every inch of me, the wound coil growing bigger, tighter, the build of release making my heart race. He stared at me as we moved together.

 “Tha’s it. So good at this,” he mumbled. “So beautiful.” 

 My breath caught, and his wide eyes watched wondrously as I moved frenzied above him. His chest rose, bits of tattoo spilling past the white button-down collar. My hand clutched his shirt as I felt myself begin to peak. This was as intimate as I’ve been with someone, and the pressure of being seen through his eyes like this was a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to think about how many other girls had been in this position before. What he spoke to them, how they looked, what they’ve done, or how recently they’d done it. His hand cupped my face and brought me down, lips claiming me to the point of bruising and silencing voiceless thoughts. The pull of his lips, and the sturdiness of his thigh made me whimper. My swollen bud hit his clothed cock with each surge upwards, his hands guiding me, making sure my breath hitched each time. And each time, I’d feel him tense. Again, and again, just knowing his thick hard cock was against me, right against me, almost…

 “Almost… Harry…” 

 “Y/N,” he rasped. I felt his hot gaze as I shuddered above him. He kissed me, slow, swallowing another whimper as a current of electricity ran from the crown of my head to my toes. His hands helped me ride out my high, slowly coming to a halt. 

 He opened his arms, letting me cuddle up against his chest. Silence stretched on over quiet breathing. “Been waiting a long time for that,” he finally mumbled. I quirked an eye open, realizing he’d been watching me. I almost didn’t recognize his eyes. For once, they seemed sated. Unhaunted. The clouds had seemed, for a moment, to have parted. “To see you cummm.” He hummed the last word, leaning down and nuzzling the nook of my neck. Still nuzzling, he quirked half his face to look at me. We shared a long kiss, then a shorter one to my forehead. “You’re magnificent.” 

 Though I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, I hadn’t felt more naked. And for all the times I’d felt embarrassed around Harry, at least in this moment, he made me feel comfortable about what we’d just done. We lay there, my scent now mingling with the rest of his in the room. I still felt him hard beneath my legs that were strewn across his lap, and I wondered if it was … painful. He stirred, placing one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around me. 

 I traced shapes into his chest. He hummed, smiling softly. It was his boyish smile. The one I’d hardly seen, the one that you want to wrap up and cuddle and protect from the world to keep this one second of pure happiness intact. I pecked the corner of his mouth and his smile broke, squeezing my side. “Thank you,” he mumbled. I checked to make sure his eyes were still closed when I looked down at the black slacks. Since I finished, he should, too. I swallowed nervously as my fingers traced lower, down the button down as I tried to remember the porn Renny and I had watched together one late summer night. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he watched me, curiously, darkly, until I stopped at the tip of his pants. I slipped my fingers beneath the belt, just barely feeling the coarseness of hair before he took my wrist in his hand. He practically hissed and I stilled, not noticing I was holding my breath. I couldn’t possibly be doing this wrong…

 His index finger stroked the top of my hand, and I relaxed. 

 He looked at me gently. “Tonight was for you. S’all I wanted.” His touch was just as gentle, and he placed his thumb between my lips, running over them gently. I didn’t want him to see me as some pure untouched thing he should be scared to do anything with. My lips parted as seductively as I could make them appear, and I moved to let his finger in my mouth, but he cheekily closed my lips instead. 

 He stroked my cheek, almost giggling at my attempt. “This just isn’t how I picture it happening.” 

 The way his eyes were memorizing my lips told me he’d thought about this before, but I didn’t miss that he said how, and not where. Muffled EDC music vibrated his door, and faraway voices travelled through his open window from the yard below. The cops were waiting there, too. Was that the situation he was referring to? 

 “You deserve a lot, Y/N.” 

 I heard the hesitancy in his voice, some unforeseen disappointment he wouldn’t just spell out for me. “What’re you saying.” 

 “Just that there’s few things I want t’be sober for these days.”

 The thought hit my stomach like the sharpened blade of a knife, and it hurt worse than any wound from my nightmares. “Why would you say something like that?” I demanded.

 “Because it’s true.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sadness pulling him in. Like the tumultuous water of the middle of the ocean spirally inwards into itself. A treacherous water hole that’d carry you into its deepest abyss.

 I shook my head as if to find a way out, as if that would clear away what I was seeing. “I never… know what’s going on with you,” I admitted. I thought to the interaction with Lionel and Samantha. “Is home life really that bad?” 

 “What home?” He huffed when I looked at him. “M’serious. I feel more alone when I walk in there than I do when I’m here. And nobody even fucking knows me here.” 

 “Everyone knows you.” 

 “You’re smarter than that, Y/N.” 

 “What’d you take tonight, hm?” I cooed. My hand traced the dark circles under his eyes, and he leant against my touch before looking to the window, still allowing me to touch him. No doubt from whatever stimulant or depressant he’d taken, his words had been more candid than ever before. 

 “A cocktail of sorts. Will fucking regret it in the mornin’. Probably.” 

 He looked back to me, and I didn’t have time to wipe the concern from my face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

 He really believed it when he said it, and the way there didn’t seem to be enough energy left in him made me settle back in his arms with a frown. Because it did matter. It mattered a lot. A few moments later, he squeezed my sides. “You didn’t answer my question,” he mumbled. 

 “What question?” 

 He waited until I looked up at him, and even then he was hesitant. His voice was quiet when he spoke, intimate, so if even if someone was standing at the foot of the bed they couldn’t hear what he was about to ask. 

 “Why do you want me, Y/N?” 

 The vulnerable question hung in the air. And though it was presumptuous of him to ask, he wasn’t wrong. His eyes read me like a book he’d read a hundred times over. He saw me. I swallowed, my brain and heart at an all-out war. Unfortunately for me, they captured my tongue in a stale-mate. “I don’t know what I want.”

 And it was true. The dilemma was the following:

The only thing my body wanted was him. 

But my brain didn’t know if that’s what I should be     wanting anymore.  

And my heart was left in the middle of them both, not     sure what it was feeling. 

 I felt him shrug. “I get it. I have so many opinions shouting at me in my head right now. About soccer, my fucked family, about” - he threw his hands between us.  

 After Niall had greeted me at the door, I was sure Harry had talked about us in some capacity. But how many people had opinions on our relationship? “Let me guess. Viv shares her opinion about us.” 

 “I don’t listen to hers.” 

 “But hey, at least she fucks you right.” 

 He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that.” 

 “But it’s true, right? So no need to apologize.” 

 The room froze over. Just the thought of her whispering in his ear was enough to trigger an entire week’s worth of pent-up animosity. 

 “So maybe people are confused why Viv and I aren’t together but I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think. I fucking hate that we’re even talking about her right now.”

 “What do they say?” 

 He rolled his eyes, hurriedly slanting his voice, “Viv’s gorgeous mate, she clearly wants you. What the fuck are you doing now?” 

 I flinched. He noticed. “Look, I seriously hate talking about this. Can we talk about the fact that I didn’t invite anyone tonight?” 

 “Aw, was Viv busy?”

 “Alright, stop.” 

 A chill shot down my spine at the rejection. As much as I wanted to appreciate the fact he didn’t invite anyone, it didn’t help. This wasn’t helping at all. “I’m sorry if I want to talk about your relationships that directly affect me,” I said, rolling out of his arms.

 “Y/N, please. It’s not like that.” His voice was tired, pleading, coaxing me to forget. 

 “But why are you like this? Why did you just say what you did to me?”

 “You asked me-”

 “It was very belittling.” I changed my voice to a dopey British accent, “Viv’s gorgeous what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?” I ignored his scowl. “Really, thanks for the best compliment of the night.” I pushed against his chest, annoyed. “And why are you being like this now? All cuddly and-”

 “It’s not one-sided.” 

 I felt my cheeks heat. “Not tonight. But it’s one-sided any other time.”   

 “S’that what you really think of me?” He pulled me closer, and I fought the urge to twist away. His forehead pressed into my hair. “Firstly, you’re fucking beautiful Y/N. You have to know this. And you have to know you’re important to me. And secondly…”

 “Thirdly,” I corrected.

 His eyes turned somber. “They’re watching,” he mumbled, pleading. “This is hard for me, too.” 

 The gang, the cops, both, whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. No matter how special he claimed I was to him, we always went in circles. Maybe he had gotten it right. Maybe it was better for both of us if we weren’t together. “Why is it so hard then?” I whispered. 

 “Nothing good comes easy.”

 I remained silent. It was a cop-out response.

 He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Because I’m fucked! I’m fucked, Y/N and there’s only so many people I can hide from. And you aren’t one of them.” 

 It was the most candid he’d ever been with me, without revealing anything at all.

 A knock sounded at the door. 

 I went to move, but he kept me against him, covering my ears as he shouted- 

 “FUCK OFF!!” 

 But even with his hands over my ears, it wasn’t very muted. The knock grew louder, more obnoxious. 

 “Sorry,” he grumbled, moving to open the door. When it opened, a boy wearing a snapback around the same height as Harry leant against the doorframe.

 “Wassup, man-” Snapback almost burst in.

 Harry’s back went stiff as the stranger’s snapback practically poked Harry in the eye. If their overcompensating confidence and too-familiar smile told me anything – freshmen. At least Snapback’s friend wore a Bond-inspired bow-tie t-shirt.

 Harry put a hand to Snapback’s chest, backing him back out of the room. They watched me walk up behind him.

 “Hey, relax man, we just wanted to get some zombies,” Bowtie bargained. 

 “You’ve got some fucking balls,” he snarled.

 My ears pricked. He was looking for the same thing, then. From Harry. My heart sunk to the lowest part of my belly after remembering why I’d come here in the first place. The sliver of hope I’d had was that maybe what Zayn had witnessed was just Harry’s past. A summer blunder. A summer fling with an illegal hobby. You know, some kids did drugs, some kids sold drugs... It was a ridiculously stupid comparison now that I thought about it. But still, I had hope. Now my undeniable denial was being shred up right in front of me.

 The cops, the gang, the drugs circulating campus…

 Harry had made his bed, and I was lying in it. 

 I squeezed past him.

 “Wait, are you leaving?” He still blocked his doorway.

 I ignored the pang of guilt I felt at his boyish disappointment. He looked at me, body still intimidatingly rigid, but his eyes, impossibly soft. Snapback tried to move past him again and Harry whipped his head back with a growl. “Get the fuck out of here.” 

 “Excuse me?” Bowtie came closer, puffing out his muscled chest. Testosterone, angst and alcohol were never the best combination. I grew nervous at the tension, looking from my escape at the end of the hall, back to Harry. 

 “C’mon, we have the cash. We’ll pay double!” Snapback whined, cornering him. 

 The words made me nauseous, conjuring the image of Viv sliding Harry the cash. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to see anything again.

 “I don’t do that shit anymore.” He strode through their barricade, determined, but Bowtie tugged him back. His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. He could ruin these guys if he wanted to. I don’t know why he was letting them keep him. But I also didn’t know why I didn’t run away. It was like watching a train wreck seconds before it happened.

 I stood alone, in the center of the hall, the only person on Harry’s horizon. A lighthouse hoping to steer the sailor home.

 “C’mon, please man, everyone’s talking about them. We just need one,” Snapback exhorted. He put up his hands, pleading. “We’ll split one. We’ll seriously cut it in half.” 

 Even from here, I could see the muscles in his neck tense. I tried doing to him what he did to everyone else. I trapped him, wide-eyed, anchoring him to me. He didn’t break our stare.

 As if each word scraped against his skull, “I said I don’t do that shit.”

 “That’s a fucking joke. Mark got some last week,” Bowtie barked.

 I saw the moment I lost him. In what world I thought I could be enough to harbor him, I had no idea. Harry snapped, kicking the steroid-pumped kid so hard in the knee, it knocked him down. It wasn’t a broken bone, but it’d leave one hell of a bruise.  

 “Dude, are you crazy?!” Snapback cried. 

 Harry raised his fist, bringing it flying. I gasped and hid my face. But I didn’t hear an impact. I faced them again.

 Harry’s fist froze inches before his cheek. Facing what would have been a badly broken nose, Bowtie shook on the floor. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed his hovering fist and folded his arms, squatting next to the quivering guy. “You’re fucking welcome I was in a good mood ‘fore you came, otherwise I wouldn’t be acting so polite.”  

 The squeak of a floorboard shook Harry back to Earth. He caught me walking away and his whole body straightened, once again hyper-focused on me, trying to tune in and trap me exactly where I stood. Taking advantage of his distraction, Snapback and Bowtie ran for it. Bowtie limped, running into me and knocking me off-balance as he passed.

 In a second, it was just us. 

 “Y/N,” he began, walking towards me cautiously. 

 “No.” 

 He stopped in his tracks. He was tall, but his shoulders hung in despondent defeat.

 “You were right, Harry.” 

 I could see how tired he was. I could see the broken pieces fitting into something beautiful. He looked so sad and regretful, I already felt guilty for saying,

 “You can’t hide anymore.” And with one last look at the broken boy before me, “You are fucked.” 

 Suddenly, the beer on the floor was just stale and sticky. The couches were filthy from strangers’ mistakes. And the air would never be clear. Harry had been right. This entire house was filled with people who didn’t care and if they did, they were trying to forget; a place more empty than if it were vacant. It was a mess just like the boy living in it. And just like the grand house, impressive at first glance, not all of his parts were beautiful.

 I ignored the way his broken pieces seemed to shatter as soon as I said it and the way it hurt me ten-fold. I ignored him calling out my name as I maneuvered through the blur of bodies, until I lost his voice on the dance floor. I could breathe better outside and I walked past the cops without acknowledging them. 

 From complete chaos to relative quiet, my ears rung, filling the new silence.

 Maybe this was the last time we’d speak. Maybe this was how it all should’ve ended that first day in September. Because in that house, that wasn’t the Harry I thought I’d knew. That was a boy far-gone, confused, and I was falling down with him. I was ANGRY. I PITIED him. And I was angry for feeling something else I should never have felt for him.

 Somehow, in this fuzzy ringing world buzzing with heated thoughts and cop lights that blurred my vision, I heard a notepad scribble as soon as I passed a squad car. 

 Lucky for me, Momma always said I had selective hearing.

part 21

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Flufftober day 8: Clothes

Models (AO3)

Take a vow needs models for a photoshoot

----

“We need your help.” Liv announced, walking into the Mill, Gabby and Leanna following behind. “Well, Gabby does. Leyla does.”

“No.” Robert said right away, without looking up from his laptop.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say yet.”

“And yet I still say no. I’ve got work to do.”

“So do I.” Gabby cut in.

That made Robert look up.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“Both of you actually.” Liv said, scanning the room. “Where is Aaron?”

“Upstairs, bathing Seb. They were both wearing his breakfast.” Robert explained. “But you haven’t answered my question.”

“We need models.” Gabby told him and Robert frowned.

“Models.”

“Yes. Take a vow has this big deal with a wedding magazine and we get to style the photoshoot for the new issue.”

“Ok…”

“And that’s where you and Aaron come in.” Liv told him. “We need you to model the clothes.”

“You what? Shouldn’t you hire professionals for that?”

“She did.” Leanna spoke up. “But one of them got sick and now none of them can come and we’re screwed unless we find new models.”

“Like other professionals you mean.”

“There is no time for that.”

Robert narrowed his eyes at the girls.

“When exactly do you need these models?”

“This afternoon.”

“And you’re only asking people now? Bit short notice isn’t it?”

“We only got the call an hour ago!” Leanna protested and Robert wondered when Leyla had hired her too… or when Liv had become friends with her.

“Right. Well. We’re busy. We have work to do.”

“You two are always skiving off.” Liv reminded him. “Oh babe let’s take the rest of the day off and have a quiet afternoon and an early night.” She mimicked.

“I… We… I…” Robert sputtered. “Neither of us call the other babe!”

“That’s what you’re going with? Really?”

“Ok we might not always be that busy… but we have Seb. We can’t just dump him on Vic or Diane all the time.”

“He can come with.” Liv shrugged. “Both of you will be there, the tree of us, Leyla, the photographer, Charity and Vanessa…” She trailed off and looked at the other girls.

“Leyla is working on David, Matty said he’d do it, so did Ellis and Billy. Dawn said maybe… and Matty was going to ask Amy.” Gabby added.

“My dad.” Leanna said. “He’ll be there before Leyla’s finished asking the question.”

“Exactly. So there are plenty of people to keep an eye on Seb.” Liv reasoned. “Next excuse.”

“Aaron will never do it. You know he hates having his picture taken.”

“He doesn’t like you shoving your phone in his face 2 minutes after he woke up.” Liv said and Robert rolled his eyes. “But if I can get Aaron on board… are you in too?”

“In for what exactly?”

“This.” Leanna sat down at the table and pulled something up on her phone. “I designed it. Well… I helped. It’s basically all wedding settings. We got Harriet to agree to let us use the church and we’ll take some pictures in and around the village. All to showcase the different themes and outfits.” She showed him the screen and swiped through sketches and photos.

“Ok but how do we fit in there?”

“You’ll be the couple getting married. I mean we did technically design these for a man and woman…”

“I’m not pretending to marry Charity.” Aaron said, coming down the stairs with Seb on his hip and Liv following behind with a satisfied grin on her face. Robert hadn’t even noticed her go up.

“Nobody is asking you to.” Gabby rushed to say. “We can change it and make it LGBT friendly.”

“You two can just be your own soppy selves and relive your wedding day. Or plan your third.” Liv said she took Seb from Aaron.

“We’re very happy and very legally married, why would we want to get married a third time?”

“I don’t know.” Liv shrugged. “You’ve already done it twice so why not a third time? Right Seb?”

“Don’t we have a setting with kids too?” Gabby asked Leanna. “The three of you could do the shoot together.” She suggested, looking at both Aaron and Robert.

“Oh yeah that would be nice, wouldn’t it Seb? We can get you all dressed up with your daddies. Just no silly cap this time, eh?”

“Hey he looked cute in that cap!” Aaron protested. “It matched his suit. And ours.”

“Well now you can match again.” Leanna interrupted. “Meet us at Take a Vow in an hour. We’ll set everything up and sort out the outfits.”

The three girls started to leave but Robert stopped them.

“Hang on. We’ll do it… if Holy Scrap and Home James get a shout out in the magazine.”

“Rob…”

“No, Aaron, this is business. We’re helping Leyla, she can help us.”

“Do you really think people reading wedding magazines are the kind that would be interested in doing business with us?”

“Why not? Even scrapyard owners get married.” Robert said and leaned over the table to kiss Aaron.

“Ok. That’s our cue to leave. We’ll see you in an hour.”

The three girls walked out of the flat, Liv still carrying Seb.

“Oi, where are you going with my son?” Aaron called out after her.

“Saving him from the soppiness here!” Liv replied laughingly and closed the door behind her.

“What did just happen?” Robert asked after staring at the closed door for a few minutes.

“I… think we just became models…”

An hour later the two of them made their way over to Take a Vow where they were met with a stressed out Leyla, yelling at people, the three girls all dressed up in white suits, and Seb playing in fake snow.

“So… what’s the plan?” Robert asked, looking around.

“We’re going to do a shoot outside the village with you.” Gabby explained. “We were thinking out by the cricket pavilion. Or even further out. Depends on where the photographer thinks is best.”

“Leyla left us in charge because she’s having a meltdown over my dad thinking she was proposing to him.”

“Uh…”

“Yeah. You don’t want to know.”

“Now come on, let’s go. We’ve sorted out your suits and you can change in the pavilion.” Liv said, ushering them out the door and picking Seb up from the floor.

Robert wrapped an arm around Aaron’s waist and pulled him close to whisper in his ear.

“It wouldn’t be the first time we take our clothes off in the cricket pavilion.”

Aaron blushed and pinched his side.

“Shut up. And behave.”

At the cricket pavilion Gabby gave them both garment bags and told them to change inside.

“There are a few outfits in there but we put them in the right order. So don’t pick and mix please.” She stressed.

The two of them went inside and were surprised to see a makeshift dressing room with some screens and two chairs.

Aaron was the first to unzip the garment bag and take out his first outfit. Stylish black shoes and trousers, a white shirt, a deep red tie, and a white jacket with the lapels in the same colour as the tie.

“Not bad.” Robert commented as he unzipped his own bag. His outfit being almost the same as Aaron’s, only his jacket was the same deep red as Aaron’s tie with white lapels, and a white tie on his black shirt.

They posed for pictures, pretending to say their vows and exchange rings, as well as the holding hands and walking down the aisle together as newlyweds pose.

Their next outfit was a more traditional black suit with a grey waistcoat and white shirt for both of them, the styles just slightly different from each other, followed by a bright purple jacket for Aaron and a floral patterned one for Robert that they both decided were atrocious.

There were pinstripe suits that made Aaron feel like a mobster from an old black and white film but Robert insisted he looked good in, and blue suits that looked a lot like their own wedding suits.

The last outfit had tailcoats for both of them. One black, one grey, and when Leanna handed them both top hats and canes Aaron complained he felt like a right twat.

And of course his stupid gorgeous husband looked good in everything.

Around the last set of pictures Seb was getting restless and nothing the three girls did could hold his attention anymore.

Robert walked over to him and scooped him up in his arms.

“Do you want to take a picture with daddies?” he asked the boy as he took his place next to Aaron again.

Seb just gave his father a funny look, taking in his new outfit.

“What do you think, Seb, do we look good?” Aaron asked him and put his hat on Seb’s head and wrapping his arms around both him and Robert.

“Ooh don’t you look smart.” Robert said, bouncing Seb up and down in his arms. “We should get a hat like that for you too. You can wear it to nursery and when your mum comes to visit. That would be nice wouldn’t it.”

Seb began to squirm and Robert put him down. He started to run away so his parents would chase after him, squealing with delight when one of them would catch him and then pretend to have to let him go again because he was just too strong.

None of them realised the photographer was still taking pictures until a few weeks later when the finished magazine came in the post.

“It turned out really well.” Aaron commented, flicking through the magazine.

“Yeah it did.” Robert agreed, looking over his shoulder. “Maybe we can request the originals and get them framed.” He suggested and turned to Seb who was playing with his Lego on the living room floor. “Look Seb, you’re in the magazine! You’re famous!”

[lauras-collection]

More Than I Know [Part 3]

Tom Holland x female Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Dinner with Tom and your family is an emotional rollercoaster.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, nothing else I think (let me know if there is anything in there that I should add)

A/N: This part was a real struggle. I’m sorry it took so long but I had to write a term paper and I was stuck with this part because I kept having ideas for later on in the story :D The next part should be a little easier to write *fingers crossed*

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

As expected, the pictures from your date were circling through the tabloids again. They even managed to take some photos of the two of you inside the restaurant. But the picture you liked the most was of you looking at Tom with the biggest smile and him returning one just as big, your hands intertwined. You couldn’t deny it, you guys looked cute together. You saved the picture to your phone, edited it a bit (just a little colour correction) and set it as your lock screen. That’s what real couples do, right? 

You and Tom were going to your parent’s house for dinner tonight and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 

It had been relatively easy to find a date where everyone was available to have dinner. Secretly, you had hoped that it wouldn’t work out. But apparently Tom wasn’t as busy as usual this week and your parents always made an effort to have dinner together anyway. Kate and her fiancé Daniel would be there, too. So you had to play your part well. 

You were picking up Tom this time, you didn’t want him to be the one driving you around the whole time. You couldn’t sit around in your flat any longer so you drove to Tom’s place earlier than you needed. So now you were standing in front of Tom’s flat waiting for him to open the door. When he did, you were immediately greeted by Tessa, Tom’s staffy. 

“Can I pet her?” You asked Tom crouching down before looking up at him. He seemed to be freshly showered, his hair still wet, a few strands falling in his face. He was wearing a black shirt and black jeans, as usual. His arm was leaning against the doorframe. He looked so good you had to tear your eyes away from him, looking back at the dog in front of you.

“Of course, just let her smell your hand first.” You do as Tom told you and then petted her head making her walk towards you, her head rubbing against your thigh. “She likes you.” Tom smiles “You wanna come in?” 

You took a moment to answer still caressing Tessa’s fur. “Yeah, sure.” You stood up from your crouched position on the floor and entered Tom’s flat. The living room was spacious and he didn’t seem to care much about decorating. The only thing hanging on the wall beside a tv was an Avengers poster. You sat down on the sofa and Tessa immediately joined you making Tom let out a laugh. 

“Well, seems like she likes you more than me now.” Tom sits down next to you, his arm on the back of the sofa, and suddenly you were very aware of his presence. 

You took your phone out of your pocket to show Tom your lock screen. “I saw the pictures today and since we don’t have any cute couple selfies I figured I’d use one of those.” You laugh while Tom looks at your phone screen. 

“Why don’t we take some selfies now?” He proposes and moves a little closer to you. 

“Only if Tessa’s in the picture as well.” You try to hide the blush on your checks as you pet the staffy again. Tom laughs and pats the spot between you and him so Tessa hops over your lap. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He smiles at you and you hand him your phone because his arms were longer and you didn’t want to sport a double chin on a selfie with Tom. While Tom was holding your phone with his right hand, his left arm pulled you closer, resting around your waist his hand on your hip. You leaned your body against him while Tessa looked between the two of you. Tom took some selfies where you were just smiling at the camera before moving his face closer to yours, placing a kiss on your cheek. You were surprised but your smile only widened. When you moved your face to look at him, his face was still so close your nose was almost touching his. 

If this had been just a normal date or if Tom had been just a normal guy you would’ve kissed him. But this was fake. You were taking these picture to convince your parents that you were dating when in reality you weren’t. He didn’t give you that kiss on the cheek because he likes you, he did it for the photo.

You were so consumed with your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed that Tom’s eyes were flickering between your eyes and your lips. His arms had been lowered after taking one last picture of the two of you staring at each other. You cleared your throat and moved away a bit your eyes finding Tessa again. “Any good ones?” You asked nodding towards your phone in Tom’s hand. 

“Uh, yeah... Of course, Tessa is in them.” He chuckled and flicked through the photos. “Is it okay if I send them to myself?” You told him that it’s fine so he went to your messaging app and sent himself all of the pictures he had just taken. As he handed the phone back to you the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. A blond guy entered the flat and Tom sat up a bit.

“Haz, mate, you’re home early.” Tom almost sounded accusing and you had to suppress a smile. 

“I didn’t know you had a visitor.” Harrison smirked at Tom with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah... this is Y/N.” Tom introduced you and at the mention of your name Harrison’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, hi Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shook your hand and you didn’t know how to react. Did he know that you and Tom were just faking it or did you have to pretend in front of him as well? 

“He knows.” Tom mentions as if he had read your mind. Relieved, you let out a breath. 

“Thank god!“ You laughed. You were not ready to start acting right now. You knew you had to eventually, but you still had a bit of time to prepare.

“Nervous? Tom told me he’s meeting your parents today.” Harrison asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, unlike other people,” you looked at Tom “I’m not a professional actor, so I’m afraid I’ll blow it the second I enter my parent’s house.” You shrugged your shoulders and Tom rubbed your back in reassurance. 

“Don’t worry, as you said when we first met, just pretend you’re into me.” Tom smirked and you rolled your eyes. That would be easy, not a lot of pretending necessary. 

Half an hour later you and Tom were waiting for your parents to open the door. Tom held your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You sent him a smile and when the door opened, your mum’s eyes were practically sparkling she was so excited.

“Tom!” she exclaimed “It’s so nice to meet you. Come on in. I’m Y/N’s mum. You can call me Mum too if you want.” and with that, she crushed Tom in a hug. Tom was taken aback at the number of words that left your mother’s mouth and her enthusiasm but he smirked amused greeting her as well. You could only roll your eyes at her behaviour.

“Hi, Mum.” You gave her a hug and she ushered the two of you inside where your dad was already waiting. He wasn’t as thrilled as your mother but he greeted Tom in a friendly manner. As long as his daughters were happy with their partners he was happy as well. No need to be the overprotective father, not yet anyway. 

Kate and Daniel were sitting on the couch in the living room as you entered and you could tell that Kate was super excited to meet Tom, she was basically bouncing up and down before she jumped up from the couch with almost as much enthusiasm as your mother when greeting Tom. 

“Hi, Tom. I’m Kate Y/N’s sister.” She shook his hand vigorously. “Such a pleasure to meet you. And I’m not saying that because you’re-... well you. But because I’m so excited to meet Y/N boyfriend! Who would’ve thought.” Tom just nodded along. He didn’t want to show it but he was a bit overwhelmed by your family. He never would’ve thought that it would be so nerve-wracking to meet your fake girlfriend’s family. But it sure as hell was. “I’m so excited for you guys to come to our wedding and-“ She was interrupted by Daniel.

“Kate, love, why don’t you let the two of them sit down.” He put his hands on Kate’s arms and she stopped talking and took a breath letting go of Tom’s hand that she was still shaking. You don’t know how he did it but Daniel always managed to calm your sister down. 

“Oh, of course. Sorry.” She stepped away from Tom a bit, realising how close she had gotten in her excitement. 

“I’m Daniel.” Daniel reached out his hand for Tom to shake. You smiled at Daniel thankfully as he greeted Tom.  

After the initial introductions were over you sat down at the dinner table where your mum had already prepared everything. The dinner itself was pretty relaxed and both your mum and sister managed to keep their questions at a minimum. But you knew that as soon as all the dirty dishes were in the dishwasher the interrogation would begin. It had been the same when Kate brought Daniel home for the first time or any of her previous boyfriends.

Tom had moved his chair back a bit, his right arm placed on the backrest of your chair, the ankle of his right leg casually resting on the knee of his left while his free hand was playing with a napkin on the table. 

Your mum was currently questioning him about what it was like to be a celebrity and you weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed. You were sure that Tom got these questions all the time he was probably so bored of answering them.

“It’s great most of the time. You do get a lot of amazing opportunities and get to see a lot of great places but sometimes it gets a bit much.” He looked at you for a moment. “I like to keep my private life just that, private, but as we all have seen I don’t succeed all the time.” He chuckled lightly. “I really would’ve liked to keep Y/N out of the tabloids. It’s not pretty what happens when they get their hands on someone. Some fans can get a little crazy, too. I don’t want that to affect her. Or us.” He looked at you with such warmth in his eyes that it took your breath away and you couldn’t deny the fluttery feeling in your stomach.

He was good. 

Your mum sighed and your sister was holding her hand against her chest. They were both touched by Tom’s words. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t. 

“But we can’t change that now, can we?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“No, we can’t. And who knows, maybe we wouldn’t even know you guys were dating because Y/N didn’t tell us anything before we saw those pictures.” Kate looked at you accusingly. 

“Hey, I told you I was going on a date, didn’t I? I was going to ease you into it. You know you would’ve had a heart attack if I had just shown up with Tom, telling you that he’s my boyfriend.” You took a deep breath shaking your head, a humourless laugh leaving your lips. “And have you thought about the fact that I maybe wanted to keep him to myself a bit? You two are always all over anybody that just shows the slightest interest in me. Even if it’s just a damn stranger on the street!” You were getting agitated and Tom could feel it, hr moved the hand that was resting on your backrest down to hold yours. You calmed down almost immediately. It was similar to the time he held your hand in the restaurant. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t know it was bothering you so much.” Your mum looked at you with a guilty expression. You took another deep breath.

“It’s okay, mum. I’m sorry I snapped like that.” Your mum sent you a warm smile and reached for your hand.

“But that’s all in the past. You’ve got Tom now.” And just like that, the sparkle was back in your mother’s eyes. 

You excused yourself to the bathroom just to get a break from the situation. When you got back Tom was in an extensive conversation about golf with your father and Daniel. 

You stepped behind Tom’s chair resting your hands on his shoulders while he was listening to a story about your dad’s last trip to the golf course. Without taking his eyes off your father, Tom reached for your wrists and pulled your hands down so you were now hugging him, your face next to his. 

“Are you ready to go?” You whispered not wanting to interrupt your father. 

“Yeah, I’ll just finish my beer and then we can go.” Tom’s eyes moved over your face and you realised that he was looking at your mouth before looking back into your eyes questioningly. 

“Okay.” Your voice was so low that no one could hear you but if they did it sounded like you were answering to Tom’s statement. Only a second later his lips were on yours in a simple peck. You didn’t even have time to close your eyes fully before the kiss was over. One corner of Tom’s mouth lifted into a smile and you gave him another peck before sitting down in your chair again. You tried to blame the feeling you got from that kiss on the fact that you hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time, but deep down you knew that it was because of Tom.

You shoved that thought down as far as possible, you couldn’t be thinking about Tom in that way.  

Part 4

Taglist: 

@jackiehollanderr // @alicethestral // @snowxbarryxendgame // @van-horn-dashner // @sltwins // @yeahimcrying // @ohhhotstan // @heathera101x // @xxnomercy // @bbyxk // @infamousmany // @zabdisamor // @i-show-you-my-world

Let me know if you wanted to be added or taken off :)

[musingsofsaturn]

Opening Up [Kristanna ‘Waitress’ AU] - Chapter Four

[Masterlist for this fic]

Fandom: Frozen/Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Side Pairings: Anna/Hans, Elsa/Honeymaren, Bulda/Cliff

Chapters: 10/10 [COMPLETE]

Rating: M

This Chapter’s Rating: T for mentions of alcoholism

This Chapter’s Word Count: 1,900+

Summary:  Waitress and baker Anna Westergaard’s life changed forever when she discovered some startling news. Dr Kristoff Bjorgman didn’t anticipate liking his new patients quite as much as he did. For better or worse, the residents of the small town of Småby Bend were about to be changed forever.

Author’s Note: Hi folks, apologies for leaving it so long between chapters - it's been a bit of a manic weekend! (The exact reason I never set scheduled upload days - life has a habit of getting in the way!) I hope this chapter is worth the wait. Thank you so much for your support on this so far, It's always greatly appreciated! :)

~ Saturn

[Photo from Serious Eats. The recipe to accompany this chapter is Green Chilli Chocolate Pie. Looks yummy!]

The waiting room’s seats were hard and cold, and Anna found herself reflecting on how unwelcoming that felt as a patient. She was feeling nervous about what the upcoming appointment might reveal about the health of her and her baby, and her mind raced with apprehensive thoughts of what was to come with the pregnancy, and eventual child. The last thing she needed right now was an uncomfortable chair.

“Anna Westergaard?” Kristoff’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and she got to her feet to follow him.

As they settled into their respective seats, Anna basked in the feeling of friendly familiarity she found herself experiencing with him. He’d been coming into The Snøffnug Café at least once a week for a slice of pie, cup of coffee, and a quick chat with Anna and the other two waitresses. Even Cliff had begun to give the doctor a friendly greeting and occasional discount when he visited.

“How are you doing today, Anna?” he asked her, friendly but professional.

“I’m doing alright. I feel good, no uncomfortable symptoms. Well, a little bit of morning sickness, but it’s not severe or anything.”

He nodded as he quickly typed up some notes on her answer. “The sonographer at the hospital forwarded me a copy of your scan – did you decide to find out the sex or are you keeping it as a surprise?”

“I don’t want to know,” Anna replied. “I just call it- uh, them ‘baby’.” Her hand subconsciously made its way to her belly, where a small bump was beginning to surface, just little enough for it to still be her secret, though she knew that would soon change.

“Alright, ‘baby’ it is.” His eyes were twinkling with the knowledge of a secret, and Anna couldn’t help but smile. “If you could just hop on the bed for me, and I’ll have a quick measure so we can see how baby’s growing.”

No one would have ever accused Anna of being graceful, and she demonstrated that perfectly as she clumsily mounted the bed. She tried not to move the paper that had been placed down on it, and as a result her movements looked as awkward as they felt. Kristoff was kind enough to pretend not to notice, but Anna couldn’t help but grimace inwardly.

To distract herself from the embarrassment she felt, Anna found herself asking, “So what made you transfer to Småby Bend anyway? You’ve never said.”

Kristoff had just turned to her after rummaging in his desk drawers for a tape measure, and Anna noticed the flicker of hesitation that came across his features. He quickly recovered though, and she thought she might have made it up.

“Oh, it’s kind of a long story. I’ll try to give you the Sparknotes version.” They shared a grin, and he quickly asked her permission to lift her top so he could measure her tummy. She consented, and he went on, “I, uh, I’m actually married. I don’t wear the ring anymore because we’re… separated, I guess? We got married just after I qualified, so like two years ago. Which is a very short time to be married, but apparently long enough for her to realise that she’d actually rather be with someone else, so…”

Anna kept silent as he spoke. His hands on her stomach were warm, and ever so gentle as he carefully measured the small bump from top to bottom. She felt her heart beating faster as he leaned in close to read the numbers on the tape measure. Nervously, she suppressed that feeling as far to the back of her mind as she possibly could.

“I didn’t even see it coming.” He laughed, but there was a great sadness in it. “She just came home from work one day, told me she didn’t love me anymore, and that she was leaving me to be with her best friend.”

In a whisper, Anna let out a soft: “I am so sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It was for the best. She’s happier now than she ever was with me, and it’s better to have split up early than to keep up a façade for decades. But I couldn’t stay where we’d started to build a life together, so I went looking for a new job, and it turned out that Småby Bend was in need of a doctor, so here I am!” He paused, glancing up at her in a way that made her think that he was debating whether or not to carry on. “I like it here. It’s a beautiful little town, and it’s got everything I need. The people here are… really lovely as well.” Anna couldn’t ignore the warmth in his expression, but she dismissed the notion that it was for her.

“For what it counts, I’m glad you ended up here.” She meant it.

Standing upright, Kristoff cleared his throat. “Baby’s growing perfectly. Just the size I’d expect them to be at this stage.” He turned around so she could readjust her top to cover her tummy up again, and she heard him typing up something into her notes once more. When he finished, he reached for a blood pressure cuff and turned back to her. “We can take your blood pressure while you’re still lying down, it’s easier for you.”

Not for the first time, Anna recognised how respectful and caring he was towards her. Of course, he was a doctor, so it was to be expected, but she still appreciated how he respected her body and her privacy, and wanted to make these appointments as non-invasive and easy as possible. Her instincts had told her the first time she met him that he was someone she was safe with. Maybe it was that sense of safety, or the idea that she had to reciprocate his honesty, but she started to speak.

“Hans wasn’t always a drinker. We started dating in high school, so obviously he wasn’t drinking then. I’d had a crush on him for years; he was so handsome, and sweet, and funny.” She smiled to herself. “When he asked me out, I thought I was so happy that I thought I was going to faint. He was so nice to me, you wouldn’t believe. My mama died when I was sixteen, and he was right there to support me through it. What teenage boy can take that responsibility?

“Did you know Småby Bend used to have a cloth manufacturer? It was a factory for knitting wools and fleeces and stuff for blankets.” Kristoff nodded that he knew what she was referring to, and Anna went on, “Hans worked there after graduation, six days a week for seven whole years. It paid for our wedding, for the house, and all the little things we needed. And I worked in the café, just to keep myself busy more than anything.

“The businesses that used the factory’s supplies weren’t happy with their profit margins, though. Not only could they get the same material cheaper from elsewhere, but we’re so ‘middle of nowhere’ that we were really hard for them to get to so they could pick up their stuff. So more and more companies stopped buying from Småby Bend, and eventually they just closed the factory altogether.

“We’d only been married for two months, but after that, Hans was miserable. He felt useless, like a failure, and he used to have a drink every night to take the edge off his worrying. Then he started drinking through the day too, and now I think he drinks more beers than he does water.”

Kristoff hadn’t moved while she was telling him all this, but he carefully stepped towards her now to begin sliding the blood pressure cuff up her arm.

“It’s been four years since the factory closed. Now he’s got a job at the garage, but he still drinks every day. Sometimes I think that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to anymore. It makes him angry. The world makes him angry; he feels lost, and not himself, I can tell. And I make him angry sometimes. Some of the things I say, or do, just… I piss him off. I don’t mean to, but I do.”

She was finished, and she knew that Kristoff picked up on that, although he didn’t say anything. In silence, he filled the cuff with air, before taking the reading and going to write it down.

“Your- the reading suggests that your blood pressure is a little low,” he said eventually. “It shouldn’t be too serious, but just to make you aware.”

“Okay, thank you,” she answered politely. She didn’t like this new way they were speaking to each other. It felt so professional, so distant. “I brought you a pie,” she told him at last. “‘Death by Chilli Chocolate’. It’s a new recipe I’m testing out, so I want to know what you think of it.”

“I’ll be sure to stop by with my critiques.” He smiled at her, and she basked in the warmth of it. “That’s it for today, you can hop down whenever you’re ready.”

She got up quickly, too quickly. The dizziness hit her like a sack of bricks, and she felt herself losing her balance. The ground seemed to be galloping up towards her as the room spun, and she cried out as she realised that she was falling.

Strong arms on her own helped her to regain her balance. Kristoff’s grip was firm as he steadied her, and her dizziness slowly receded as he held her upright. She looked up at his face, meeting his concerned gaze as she came back to herself.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” She made no move to step away from him, and neither did he.

They could have pretended that they stayed that close for that long simply because they were concerned. He could say that he was keeping hold of her to make sure she was fully recovered before he let go. She could have said that she still felt dizzy, and she needed his strength to steady her.

But that wouldn’t have explained why his hand went to her face, gently brushing aside a piece of hair that had come loose when she lost her balance. That gentleness was magnetic to Anna. She stepped closer to him, so close she could feel his breath on her.

“Anna,” he murmured, “You deserve so much more than a husband who doesn’t realise how lucky he is to have you.”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t even think. Instead, she moved her hands to his shoulders, rising to tip-toe even as he leaned down towards her. Kristoff’s hand cupped her face and his arm wrapped around her waist, pressing her closer to him and making butterflies flutter in her stomach. Her heart was pounding, and the room was spinning for an entirely different reason than before. It felt as though every moment in her life had been leading to this one, here, with her leaning in desperately to kiss Kristoff Bjorgman.

A knock on the door caused them to jump apart mere milliseconds before their lips met.

“Come in,” Kristoff called, startled but recovering now that they were separate.

A nurse opened the door, and Anna didn’t hear a word they said as she fumbled with her bag, placing the cake tin she’d brought for him on his desk. Her fingers were shaking as she buttoned up her coat, and when the nurse left, she all but ran from the room.

Next Chapter

[the-writerly-night-owl]

Picture Perfect in Holiday Sweaters

Open Heart/Ethan x MC  

Summary: Ethan gets a gift from his parents that he really didn’t expect.

Author’s Note: The return of my Ethan x Clarissa children (sorta, they can’t talk yet lol) since I almost forgot I had them. I don’t know Danny’s last name, so I gave him one that’s Blanchard. I’m thinking of AME tomorrow who knows. In other news, Naveen is still great, I love writing him and I need to do it more. For the 41 Days of Cheer - day 36 - sweater weather.

It was a snowy day in Boston when the doorbell rang as Clarissa peered out the window of the townhouse. Next to her Sienna and Danny were playing with her and Ethan’s children as she headed toward the door. Confused she opened it and saw the UPS guy. Hmm she didn’t order anything, and she was sure Ethan didn’t either.

“Order for Ramsey-Sinclaire?” he asked as she signed off on it. Holding the two boxes she had returned to her friends that were sitting on the floor in the living room.

Carrying them into the room she stepped over the wedding planning materials and sat down with them.

“There’s a surprise package,” she said sitting down with them. “How’s your wedding planning?”

“Fine so far but it’s far more fun to play with the babies. Isn’t that right Adaline,” said Sienna bouncing the baby on her leg. “Forget that, tell us what’s in the package, I’m super curious.”

With that Clarissa found scissors and started to open the first box and then the second. The return address looked familiar as something in her mind clicked.

“Ohh, these are from Ethan’s parents,” she said thinking out loud. She had to call them as soon as they had received them. Then smiled at the contents of the box.  “It’s sweater weather.” 

She pulled out a sweater from the first box.It was quite pretty in a royal blue color, a snow flake pattern dotted across the o neck. The next was white with dark gray trees decorating the bottom part. Then in the second box was two small sweaters one red with white candy canes. The other green with white candy canes.

“These aren’t ugly Christmas sweaters at all,” said Sienna holding up the sweaters. “Aww these tiny ones are so cute.”

“These are 100 percent cashmere,” said Danny reading the tag before jokingly adding, “What’s it like to have rich in-laws?”

“Danny!” said Sienna scolding him slightly before she swatted him playfully. Clarissa just rolled her eyes and looked over at the sweaters. It was definitely getting cold out and they would wear these as soon as possible. “Anyway, we should try them on.”

Nodding she handed Danny the green one to put on Patrick. Then the red one to put on Adaline. She thought as the door opened behind them. Then the two voices of Ethan Ramsey and Naveen Banerji as they were arguing about something or another. Shaking her head, Clarissa made faces at Adaline as she whimpered at the sudden movement.

Curiously she peered over and waved at the two men as they headed to the kitchen. “Pass me my water bottle please,” she called as Ethan returned with a soda in his own hands.

“What are those?” asked Ethan seeing the boxes as Naveen happily took his seat on their couch.

“Your parents sent sweaters to all of us. It’s good timing considering it just started snowing out,” said Clarissa gesturing to the window.

“Wait a second I got one?” he asked as she threw the sweater with trees at him.

Naveen just smiled as Sienna and Danny all watching for his reaction. The look on Ethan’s face simple to read, he just looked at it, and then out the bay window. She really hoped that he wouldn’t consider throwing it out said window.

Giggling softly, she got up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug gently kissing his lips. He had held her waist firmly before separating. She pressed the sweater firmly to his chest her hands keeping them inches apart from kissing again.

Glancing at her friends who were playing with the kids. Naveen pretending to read a wedding magazine as he slyly looked over at them. Her own sweater on the floor next to her feet.

Biting her bottom lip she seductively whispered to him. “Put it on now,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “For me?”

“Sure,” he said hesitating glancing at the door. “In the next room.”

“Oh no, that’d be an easy escape you have to do it here,” she said winking making sure none of the others could hear her and then added while pulling at his tie. “If you do you can help me take mine off later.”

His mouth was a straight line before looked her up and down aware of just how close their bodies were. Sighing Ethan pulled apart from her and took the sweater in his hands. He wanted it as she blinked her emerald doe like eyes up at him.

She watched as he took his tie off first. Then purposely not looking at Sienna, Danny, and especially Naveen he unbuttoned his light blue button down. Oh, she was liking this as Clarissa twirled a piece of her copper colored hair with her fingers.

Danny had covered Sienna’s eyes and Patrick’s in his lap while looking away.

“Clarissa there is so much that I have to have you push him to do,” said Naveen thoughtfully as he put the sweater back on.

She burst into laughter as Ethan just rolled his eyes. Okay, she’d have to see this list as Ethan made sure that it fit well. Boy did it as it wasn’t tight but certainly wasn’t baggy. Tonight was going to be fun as she bit her bottom lip.

“Okay Blanchard you can uncover Trinh’s eyes now and pass me my son,” said Ethan going over and scooping Patrick off the floor.

Aww, he had tossed him into the air and kissed the top of his head before going to sit next to Naveen. Clarissa took the sweater herself before shrugging out of her blouse. Her cami light enough for the sweater to slide right over her body. Surprisingly his parents did a great job picking out the clothes.

“You know what we should do?” asked Naveen. “Go outside and take a picture of you wearing them in front of the house while it’s snowing. After all it’s sweater weather.”

“Yes,” said Sienna and Clarissa excited.

“No! You were all sent to torture me weren’t you?” asked Ethan appalled at the idea as Patrick pulled his sweater to cover his face.

“No we were sent to kill you softly with kindness,” said Clarissa rolling her eyes again but still teasing him. “Come on one just one picture and we’ll print it twice. One to send to our parents and the other to frame. We still don’t have something to put on the table by the door.”

“I thought that was going to be professionally done,” he said trying to hold off on getting his picture taken.

“No you wanted them that way,” said Clarissa. “I wanted something more personal.”

Danny and Sienna only grinned as they played with Adaline still on the floor batting around a cloth book. Naveen eagerly listening to them with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Yep, they even argued like an old married couple when it wasn’t work related.

Clarissa shifted as she narrowed her eyes and cocked her head. Ethan still not budging.  

“We won’t have anymore done,” she said. “Unless you want me to make that appointment for a professional photographer and do it next week.”

“Okay fine.”

Victorious she did a small dance and picked up Adaline from the floor. “Alright whose going to take the picture?”

“I’ll do it,” said Naveen getting up. “After all we should leave Doctor Trinh and Doctor Blanchard here so they can look at their wedding books…” He winked at them to get busy making out while they were outside.

Sienna giggled softly as they made their way out into the cold. The November air biting at her skin making her cheeks pink. Smoothing her hair for the picture she then turned to Ethan. Adaline on her hip as she fixed his hair running her hand through his smoothly. Naveen knowing how to use a smart phone because of Clarissa had recorded the tender moment.

Switching babies Clarissa now holding Patrick and Ethan holding Adaline before positioning and then smiling at Naveen. She nodded at him to snap the photo while the kids were good. Naveen just smiled at the picture happily as he captured the moment and then sending a copy both to his own phone to remember this.

“There you go,” he said handing hers back to her. “Now what do you say to getting some pizza for dinner?”

With that they had returned inside to see Sienna and Danny on the floor making out. Oh, they were totally going to be next to do this to. Clarissa and Naveen sharing a look knowing what they had to do. Then she had kissed Ethan’s cheek, they had a late night tonight before going in early tomorrow.

Tagging: @cordoniaqueensworld​ @universallypizzataco​ @riverrune​   @confessionsofabrokegirl​ @valiantlychaoticbarbarian​  @hopelessromantic1352​ @sharrybh20​ @theeccentricbibliophile​ @timmagicktoad​ @owleyes374​ @greywitchyshots​

@adrianadmirer​  @fluffy-cat-whisper​ @symonde​ @paisleylovergirl​ @elainew13​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @darley1101​ @mfackenthal​ @jlpplays1​ @writerapprentice​ @wildsayeed​ @princess-geek​ @perriewinklenerdie​  @lilyofchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @itsbrindleybinch​ @am-i-invisible777​ @flyawayboo​ @radlovedreamer​

[pkg4mumtown]

Waiting for Love (request)

Summary: See photo

A/N: I’m low key in love with Keanu’s short hair and leather jacket combo from a few years back, so forgive me ahead of time. I left some room to continue this just in case because I kinda fell in love with it, even if it took me forever to get rolling. Might be boring but I’m taking it slow for once, okay? (lol)

Warning: Extreme adorable-ness from Keanu. Slow burn., female reader

I groaned as my alarm blared, telling me to get my ass up and ready for one of the biggest art shows I’ve ever done. It wasn’t big in terms of the quantity of work I was presenting, but big in the sense that this was a more ‘esteemed’ show. Not to mention, the other artists showing their work had been established longer than I have. I befriended one of the artists, Becca, while setting up for this show. She took me under her wing and helped me get over my fears of today, as she had done this show a few times before.

“Y/N, you can’t freak out too much. You deserve to be in this show. Some of the people attending this are just rich assholes who’ll be drunk and staring at pieces, so don’t be intimidated by them. You’ll know when a fellow creative mind shows up, I promise, some will show up.”

You can say I was overjoyed when I found out her exhibition would be next to mine but separated by dividers like everyone was. Something about having someone familiar around eased my nerves slightly.

I reluctantly got out of bed, showered, changed, and readied myself face today. I ate something small to hold me over until I could find food at the show, knowing my stomach wouldn’t enjoy being full while nervous. I leant down in front of my cat’s food bowl, shaking it so it filled up. The noise summoned him, the cat rubbing up against my pant leg and leaving a trail of gray fur. I brushed it off as best as I could before scratching his head.

“I’ll be back later, Sage,” I cooed at him, my nerves easing slightly as I watched him push his face into my hand.

I reluctantly got up, straightening the pantsuit I decided to wear. I was nervous enough about the show, I wasn’t going to make it worse by wearing a dress and fighting with it all day. I got an Uber to the show, slightly bummed that I couldn’t ride my motorcycle to the show because of my attire but I didn’t want to look like a hot mess when I got there.

I arrived extra early, like all the artists were supposed to so that we could make sure everything was in order. I killed time by sitting at the small table in my exhibit, where we had business cards and other takeaways set up. As I scrolled through my phone, I heard the soft click of heels as Becca rounded the divider and entered my exhibit. I stood up to greet her, smiling at her bubbly, excited expression.

“Very professional,” she greeted, admiring the pantsuit.

“I didn’t want to sweat through a dress and risk being uncomfortable,” I sighed.

“It wasn’t a knock, Y/N, you wear it well,” she smiled comfortingly. “Is there anyone you know coming to the show?”

“I invited a few family members, but I won’t hold my breath,” I shrugged.

“Well, I have a friend coming that I have to introduce you to. I think your work and his tastes align perfectly,” she stressed with a flash of her hands.

“He, huh?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, he’s a great guy but I’m taken,” she brought her left hand up to point at her wedding ring. “You could definitely give it a shot, though,” she winked.

“I think I’ll pass,” I blushed.

“You won’t be thinking that when you see him, promise,” Becca laughed behind her hand.

“I’m already not looking forward to it,” I shook my head at her.

“Trust me, I know he’ll love your work. He’s coming by around one I think. If you need food or something, I’ll send my assistant out to get you whatever you need,” she offered, knowing we couldn’t really leave our exhibits and that I didn’t have an assistant.

An hour later, the event opened, and people poured in. I watched these well-dressed people as they passed me, some bouncing aimlessly between exhibits and some following a strict order. I placed myself near the entrance of my exhibit, greeting people as they entered and viewed my work, but the exchange never lasted for more than that. Becca was right, either a lot of these people stared and pretended to enjoy themselves or they simply came for the works more than the artists. I didn’t mind, since I didn’t have to talk much, and the show would still look good for my experience.

Two hours later, I was growing increasingly bored as I had only found one person interested enough in my work to strike up a conversation. While it only lasted about five minutes, it still gave me a bit of confidence that someone had enjoyed themselves. I checked my phone, sighing when I realized I still had six hours left here. I secretly hoped Becca’s friend would be as interested as she said he’d be. I heard low volume screeching from Becca’s exhibit, before realizing it was Becca, herself, making the noise.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” I heard Becca shout excitedly.

“Of course, how could I miss it?” a deep voice responded, which I assumed belonged to her friend.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation to ease my nervousness about meeting this mysterious friend of hers. Her voice pulled me back out of my head again as she increased volume.

“Dude, I have to introduce you to Y/N! You’re gonna love her work!” she told him.

“So, you keep saying, but I haven’t even seen yours yet, Becca,” the voice chuckled.

“Please, Charlie, you know what my art looks like,” she huffed, grabbing his arm and tugging him out of the exhibit.

“I honestly regret telling you that I had a friend who called me Charles,” he sighed.

I had turned around as I heard their footsteps rounding the divider, making myself look busy.

“Y/N!”

My head shot up as Becca shouted my name. My eyes flicked over her excited face before landing on the tall man next to her. I recognized him immediately. He was dressed simply unlike many people here, donning a well-worn leather jacket, a V-neck t-shirt, jeans, and brown boots. His dark hair was on the short side, but long enough to tell he hadn’t done anything to tame it after taking his helmet off, the one he currently held in his hand. His facial hair was grown enough to look as equally as scruffy as the hair on his head after a run in with the helmet. This was one of the biggest names in Hollywood showing up to a prestigious art show in plain clothes, and he couldn’t look any more endearing. I blushed as I realized I had been silently staring at the pair.

“Keanu,” his face broke out into a shy smile and stuck his hand out, “it’s nice to finally meet you. Becca has been talking about you non-stop for weeks.”

“Y/N,” I responded, shaking his hand. My blush deepened at his words, “It’s uh, it’s an honor to meet you Mr. Reeves.”

“Please, Keanu is perfectly fine,” he corrected.

Yes, he is.

“I’ve gotta get back to my side, so have fun you two,” Becca announced her exit and left.

I cleared my throat as she disappeared, “Um, so, Becca didn’t tell me her friend was famous.”

“Sometimes it’s better that way,” he smiled almost sadly. “Tell me about yourself,” he requested and stepped closer to the hung artwork.

“I think I can tell you that through the art, might make it more interesting,” I answered, motioning him over to the first artwork on the wall.

Keanu squinted as he took the painting in, his eyes flicking over the title, Freedom, and back to the painting. A smile formed on his face, as he deciphered the swift strokes and textured landscape. I nervously wrung my fingers together before speaking.

“The landscape is actually—” I started.

“PCH,” he finished, finally looking back at me. “You ride, don’t you?”

I nodded, “I do. It’s just so freeing and liberating, hence the title.”

“I completely agree,” he agreed, his eyes lighting up as he held his helmet up. “I ride on PCH often when I’m home.”

From there, conversation flowed easily as we made our way through the rest of the works. Keanu insisted on going through every work I displayed, the delight evident on his face. I knew, then, what Becca had meant about knowing when someone genuinely loved your work. After what felt like no time at all, but what was actually almost two hours, we approached the last work I had displayed.

“Ah, yes,” he sighed happily as he took the painting in. “This captures the true essence of our modern society. We are always so concerned with watching the bustling of others from behind all types of barriers. Meanwhile, we sit alone and in silence as our existence becomes meaningless,” he blurted out with his voice filled with mock amazement. A grin appearing on his face and his hand, naturally, came up to hide it from view.

I laughed along with him, “Oh, yea, totally. Exactly what I was going for, Keanu.”

“Or, you know, it’s just a cat staring out of a window,” he chuckled and brought his hands up to gesture to the painting.

“Your interpretation was way better than my intention,” I was smiling so widely that my cheeks burned in embarrassment.

“Nah, I was just joking,” he waved his hand, his smile never fading.

“Art is meant to be interpreted by the viewer, no?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“I can’t argue with that,” he nodded, “So, what’s its name? I assume the cat is yours?”

I nodded, “His name is Sage, I rescued him from a kill shelter a few years ago.”

“That’s admirable.”

“It broke my heart to see that he was scheduled to be put down. I had to take him, and he’s been a blessing in my life,” I continued, staring fondly at the painting.

“Do you prefer cats?” he asked curiously.

“I love both cats and dogs, cats just happened to fit my lifestyle better,” I clarified. “You?”

“I think I’m more partial to dogs, but I love both, too,” he answered, his voice cracking slightly as we’d talked for so long.

“Would you like a water?” I offered and pointed to the small table I had been at earlier. I walked slowly over to it as I continued talking, seeing him follow me.

“I can grab us a couple drinks from…” he trailed off as he pointed into the walkways, where every other aisle of exhibits had its own bartender. Unlike a lot of characters he played, his voice and eyes contained hints of emotion.  

I understood what he meant but declined anyway, “These are free,” I nodded my head towards the water, biting back a smile. “Plus, I don’t think the artists are allowed to drink.”

“Right, of course,” he mumbled, his eyes dropping slightly out of embarrassment as I grabbed two water bottles. He didn’t let his body language show it, but his slightly crestfallen expression said enough.

“I’ll let you buy me one later, though,” I spoke cautiously as I handed a bottle to him, hoping I had read the situation correctly. His eyes snapped back up, meeting mine while taking the bottle from me. His fingers brushed mine, sending tingles up my hand and causing me to retract my hand quickly.

“I’d like that,” he answered softly, a blush creeping up to his cheeks but hidden partially by his beard. The corners of his mouth lifted as he brought the bottle to his lips, forcing me to tear my eyes away from the way his lips wrapped around the plastic. “We should ride some time,” he spoke again after pulling the bottle away from his mouth.

My throat hitched at his choice of words, making me cough as I drank my water. Luckily, I didn’t make a fool of myself and spray it everywhere, solving the problem with a simple clearing of my throat.

“Motorcycles. We should ride our motorcycles together, some time,” he clarified, the hint of a smirk from before more prominent now.

“Yea, yea that’d be awesome,” I nodded, flustered that he caught on to the reason I choked.

“Maybe after this?” he gestured to the art around him.

“Uh, it ends at seven, but I’d have to go home and change,” I waved my hand down across the pant suit and heels.

“That’s not a problem, I’ve got time,” he shrugged. “You don’t have to take your stuff down?”

“Nah, the show is on for the whole weekend,” I flapped my hand dismissively at the hung art.

“Well, I’d be happy to take you home afterwards,” he offered.

“No, no I can’t ask you to do that! I can take an Uber home,” I held my hands up, trying to quell any urge he had to help me.

“I mean, you’re not asking; I’m offering. Plus, unlike the Uber…I’m free,” he placed his hand on his chest, looking at me with raised eyebrows. His eyes were playful as he used my earlier excuse against me.

I took a deep breath through my nose, my mouth betraying me and curling into a smile as I released my breath, “Okay.” My voice was softer than intended, but I continued anyway, “I appreciate it, Keanu.”

He laughed, waving his hand at me, “I’m being selfish, honestly.”

“Yea, okay,” I snorted. “You should definitely check out the rest of the show, though. They have Rembrandts over there,” I directed, pointing to the other side of the building.

He feigned hurt, gasping dramatically, “Are you getting rid of me?”

“Yes, actually. There are a lot of great works here, too many to waste all of your time in my little exhibit,” I waved my hand out to the rest of the building.

“Oh, please,” he huffed, now understanding how other people feel when he deflects compliments onto other people. “The art isn’t what’s keeping me here, now.”

My face heated up fast under his gaze, but the blush quickly turned into a deep red out of embarrassment as my stomach growled loudly in the mild silence. My lips retracted into my mouth, hoping that he hadn’t heard it, or that he didn’t think it was something else.

“Hungry?” he questioned, trying to hold back a chuckle but failing.

“I’m fine, really.”

Keanu gave me the sassiest, most done look I’ve ever seen. He snatched my phone off the table, handing it to me, “Unlock it.” I hesitated. “Please,” he urged.

I did as he asked, then felt him slide the phone out of my fingers. I watched him type briefly, then bring the phone to his face and stick his tongue flat out of his mouth. He tapped on the phone again a few times before handing it back to me.

“I’ll go look at everything else, only if you promise to text me whatever you want me to pick up for you,” he stated smugly.

“Fine,” I half-groaned. This man and his kindness were going to be the death of me.

“Excellent,” he laughed, his adorable grin plastering his face again. This time, he didn’t hide his smile behind his hand and I was able to admire it, before he caught on and closed his lips while blushing at the appreciation. “Keep an eye on this for me, yea?” he asked, setting his helmet on the small table.

“Sure,” I nodded, placing my hand on top of the helmet in confirmation.

“Thanks,” he expressed as he moved to place his hand on the helmet, too, but stopped as he felt my hand under his. His hand lingered for a second, but it was withdrawn as he began stepping away, out of the exhibit. “You better text me,” he pointed my way, “or no drinks for you!”

Keanu disappeared around the divider and I heard him speak briefly to Becca. He must have told her about the potential drinks later because she gasped loudly and squealed at whatever he said. I bit my lip, smiling at the thought of what was to come. I hadn’t been out in a while, let alone on a date—if that’s what this even was. I just hoped that I wouldn’t do anything dumb or anything that would be unpleasant to him. I glanced down at my phone, unlocking it and seeing his contact as simply, Keanu, with the ridiculous picture he had taken. My fingers hovered over the screen before finally typing and sending an order.

“You got it,” was his only response before I made myself busy with the people around me.

I slid my phone in my pocket and waited patiently for him to come back, whenever he was done. These next four hours couldn’t go fast enough.

CHAPTER 2

Taglist:

@cuttlefishcatfish @anita-e-taylor @samanthagraceg @futuristic-imbecile @beyondantares