#girl i need to choose a time slot for the interview now what if i just sunk into a hole in the ground

[hellohoihey]

girl shocked she got invited to a job interview after applying for job

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 16

Summary: You and Andy head back to Boston, this time armed with the evidence you need to hopefully put your nightmare to bed…

Warnings: Language, adult themes, angst. Smut (NSFW 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 10k (SSOORREEEE)

A/N: So, this chapter is HUGE, and as such was originally split into 2. That said, when I read it…I couldn’t leave you hanging as was so decided to just go for it. I’m sorry…not…well, maybe I am. BUT I WILL highlight roughly halfway through with a GIF so that you can choose to break/read all in one

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 15.

Andy sat at the desk in the unoccupied corner office on the floor that housed the firm's partners. He was still getting used to the fact that soon this would be his. Currently, things weren't exactly how he wanted them but at that moment he had more pressing matters at hand. He needed to call Boston and set the final ball into motion.

He looked out at the eastward facing window, its expansive view of the mountains so picturesque. It was beautiful in the fall, and before long the peaks would carry their usual dusting of snow, like frosting on a cake. "Andy, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Neal finally answered after the fifth ring.

“I said I’d keep you updated,” Andy paused, “And I need to ask you a couple of questions. You got five?” "Sure." “So, it turns out our good doctor was indeed bunged, and I got the proof. However, you could have him hung out to dry for something a lot bigger here Neal, a lot bigger.” "Okay, I'm intrigued. What could possibly be bigger than taking a pay out on such a high profile murder case?” “Quid pro quo, I want some information before I tell you.” “Oh, come on Andy!” “Take it or leave it.” "Alright, what do you want to know?" “Drysdale’s Murder. I know it’s unsolved, but I’m curious. Do you have anything on a potential suspect?” “What? Why…” Neal sighed, “Andy, what the hell is going on?” “Look, do you want the fucking doctor or not?” "You know I fucking do!” "Then what do you have?" "Other than the security footage and your girl's statement we got nothing." “No forensics?”

“None, it was surprisingly clean. Which made me a little suspicious there might be something more to it than a simple mugging but, like your lady said when we interviewed her, Drysdale pissed a lot of people off. We interviewed a few but in the end, we dropped it and filed it as unsolved.” “And I guess it’s not something that Lynn is particularly keen to spend time on?” “Unsolved murders don’t sit well with us as you know but this one, well, given the way he weaselled his way out of a life sentence for the murder of his grandfather's housekeeper, there’s not a great deal of appetite to open it again if you get what I’m saying.” "Oh, I get it.” Andy gave a dry chuckle, “and to be honest, it’s best if it doesn’t open again, especially if you're vying for Lynn's slot next election." “What are you implying, Andy?” “You’re a smart guy Neal, work it out.” There was a pause and Neal gave a scoff. “You think that if it comes out the doctor took a bung, they’ll ask me how I didn’t know.” “Well, it won’t look good on you or Lynn for that matter. Especially if it’s brought to the public’s attention, if you get my drift.” “You bastard.” "Hey, you do your job better and we wouldn't be here." “Fuck you, Andy!” Neal spat. “Fine, you don’t want this then forget it, I don’t give a shit.” Andy smirked to himself, slightly amused he’d managed to rile Neal somewhat, “you already told me what I wanted to know.” "So now you tell me, what else do I need to know on this expert witness?" “I got photos,” Andy leaned back in his chair, “of the perverted fucker with a girl. A young girl, if you get my drift.” Neal let out a low whistle, “how young?” “Sixteen, tops. I talked to Joanna earlier and she told me there had been rumours about his sexual deviancy circulating for a while. So I’m betting she isn’t the first minor he’s engaged in… well, whatever you wanna call it, with.” "Jesus fucking Christ," Neal sighed loudly. "That's....." "I know." "Okay, dare I ask how?" "No." “Fine.” Neal paused again, “I won’t ask why either.” “Good, because I won’t tell you. All you need to know is you can bust him for this, obviously it’ll have to go through New York but it’s gotta give you some satisfaction. But be careful. We used Ross ourselves before, and if you go at him with the aim of discrediting him professionally instead of disgracing him personally, you’re gonna open up a lot of closed cases for appeal.” "Well we both know I do that and I can kiss Lynn's seat goodbye," Neal grumbled. "Thanks, Andy. I'll owe you for this." “I'm back in Boston this weekend, we’re visiting Y/N’s parents. I can meet you and hand the photos over.” "Sounds like a good plan, let me know when you're around. We can figure out where to meet then." “Will do,” Andy replied, before he cut the call. Andy mentally crossed that off his list and made his next call to Blanc. This trip back to New England wasn't just purely social, he had business to take care of and he was going to make sure that he and his Angel left Boston with all ends tied up and disposed of. “Good afternoon, Andy.” Blanc greeted him, “fine day for it.” "It's getting there. Listen, I'm in town this weekend and I was wondering if your offer was still in play for a home visit?" “It is very much still in play.” "Great. Y/N and I arrive Friday evening. We're staying with her parents. I'll touch base when we get settled but I want to meet them on Saturday, morning preferably, get it out of the way.” “That’s fine. Erm, Andy, have you given any thought to how, exactly, you’re gonna get both Linda and Richard to meet you, in person?” "Well, not entirely," Andy admitted. It was the biggest snag in his current plan. “Leave it with me, I have a few fingers in a few pies so to speak.” "Alright, I shall," Andy agreed. "Benny, this is as off radar as it gets." “As I said yesterday, you have my absolute discretion.” "Y/N and I appreciate that," Andy replied. "Good, good. Well, Andy, I look forward to seeing you and Y/N, maybe, this weekend." “Yeah, maybe.” Andy replied, not bothering to explain that there was no way in hell you’d be anywhere near this fiasco. "How's she doing today, by the way? Yesterday had her quite riled." “She’s okay, there’s not much more else I can say. I just want this all done so we can put it behind us and move on.” "It's a fair struggle, and again, I'm sorry I failed her first hand. I could see the toll this has taken on her. And Andy, despite all things, I can confidently and confidentially tell you that she looks like a completely different person and in a very positive way." “That’s… well, thank you.” "Talk soon, Andy." “Yeah, thank you again. Let me know how you get on with arranging that meet.” "Sure thing." Both calls done, Andy let out a deep breath and ran his hands over his face, before he stood up and began to make a list of changes and things he would need in the office ready to hand to Ron as requested.

The lunch hour came and that was when he sought you out, looking to see if you had any plans. However, Amber pointed him in the direction of Eva's office and found you there.

“I’m not sure,” he could hear you talking to Eva, “why me?” “Because I’d rather leave the department in hands I trust.” Eva replied, “look, I’m not going anywhere for a while, and it’s only gonna be for a couple of months. I haven’t even told anyone else here yet, but if you really don’t wanna do it then, that’s fine, when I do I can suggest they bring in a temp.” “I err, look, can I think about it?” Andy heard the familiar tone in your voice that meant you might not be quite as averse to what Eva had just asked you as you were making out and he smiled to himself. “Of course, you got a while yet.” Eva chuckled.

At that point, Andy took the opportunity and knocked lightly on Eva’s door. "Yeah...." Eva called. “Sorry to interrupt,” Andy smiled as he opened the door, “I was just wondering if I could steal Y/N for lunch.” You looked at him with a bright smile and then he winked when you turned away as his glance and yours looked to Eva. "Take her. She needs the fresh air," Eva joked. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, turning back to Andy. “I just need to grab my jacket and purse.” "I'll wait for you," Andy smiled. He stepped to the side to allow you out of the office, his hand gently brushing your back as you went. Andy felt a stir as you smiled softly at him. Things the day before had ended on a very tense note and while you worked it out before falling asleep on the couch, there wasn't much time to work it out further before work. With a nod to Eva he made his way over to the elevator and you joined him a couple of minutes later, your jacket on and purse slung over your shoulder. Once you were in the lift, the doors closed leaving you alone and Andy turned to you. His hands cupped your face and he drew you in for a soft, gentle kiss.

He heard your hum of approval as you separated but he kept your face in his palms. "I've wanted to do that all morning, Angel." “Yeah, we were a little rushed.” You smiled, your hands wrapping around his wrists. “How’s the hangover?” "Alright. Kept my office darker than usual. Starving though. How do you feel about Patti's?" You nodded, “works for me.” He held your hand, down through the lobby and out to the courtyard. The walk to Patti's was a good ten minutes across the main square and he relished in walking with you. "Andy...." your voice perked his ears up. "Yeah," he looked down at you just a half nod. "About last night, yesterday.... I..." “Angel, it’s done. Don’t think on it.” "Yeah, okay. I just.... Bb I said some horrible things and it just weighs on my heart." “Well, would it help if I said I forgive you?” "Well... I mean....” “Look, Y/N,” Andy stopped walking and turned towards you, “yesterday was stressful for us both and I can’t begin to imagine how you felt. We both said things we didn’t mean so, please baby, don’t worry about it.”

"Okay. Deal," you sighed. “Good.” Andy pressed his lips to yours, “and after this weekend we’ll be able to put all this shit behind us and plan our future. Together.” "Together?" “Yes, together.” He chuckled. "I like the sound of that." You smirked. "Good, because I do too," Andy grinned. You continued on your way and once at Patty’s you took your seats and placed your orders. Whilst Andy was being careful not to go over things too much, you also knew that from a practical point of view there were things to arrange so you offered to book your flights. Despite the reason for your trip back, you were also looking forward to seeing your parents. And you relished the thought that the next time you made a trip back to the City you had for many years called home, would hopefully be without a dark cloud hanging over your head.

“So,” Andy took a bite of his sandwich, “what was it Eva was asking you to consider?” “You know, for an old bastard you have impeccable hearing.” You shook you head, swallowing your mouthful of food. “Okay, first off, rude. Second off, she wasn’t exactly being quiet.”

"I'm not supposed to share, so you keep your trap shut. But she's pregnant and has asked me to head the department when she goes on leave after the baby comes." “No shit!” Andy paused, “that’s fantastic news, all of it.” "Yeah it's great for she and Steve. For me, I don't know if I can handle it. We'll see." You took a bite if your salad, picking a fry from Andy's plate as you chewed. “Sure you could,” Andy shrugged, “but take a while the think on it if you’re not totally sold on the idea. See how you feel after the weekend.” "Yeah, I think maybe that's my hold up. There's just so much weight right now that I can't think that far ahead." “Makes sense.” Andy gave a little sigh, “like I said, once this shit is all over then there’s nothing but open road, metaphorically speaking. And we’re booking that fucking trip to Hawaii.” "Now that, I'm looking forward to," you smiled. "In fact, I may have already started shopping for a few new suits." “Nothing too modest I hope,” Andy flashed you a wink and you rolled your eyes. “Dirt bag.” "Hey, that's important!" Andy joked. "Well," you slyly tilted the corner of your mouth upward, "I did find a pretty champagne colored one that's sitting in my cart." “Champagne looks good on you.” Andy smirked. "All jokes aside, I'm looking forward to going. But I just can't help this feeling I have in my gut that...." "Hey," Andy reached his hand across the table for yours. "Don't do that, please, honey." “I’m sorry, I’m trying not to.” "I know," Andy gave you a squeeze. "How's your salad?" "Same as every other time," you sighed. The talk of your woes was put in hold the rest of lunch. Andy happily held your hand the entire way back to the office, walked you to yours and left you with a soft kiss. "I'll see you at home," he told you. His eyes soft but tired looking. “Yeah, early night for you, Counselor.” "Most definitely," Andy chuckled. “I love you,” you held his gaze, driving the words home as much as you could and he smiled. “I love you too.” ***** The rest of the week seemed to pass far too quickly, and before long it was Friday afternoon and you were boarding your flight back to Boston. Your feelings and emotions were all over. Excitement filling your bones to see your family but knots twisted your gut because you knew what else would be going on while you were there. While you didn't want to know, and Andy kept that promise to you, if you asked a question, he'd answer, honestly. This wasn't just a pleasant family visit, there was a motivation behind the trip that chilled your insides.

Your subdued demeanor didn’t escape your family when you arrived home, but you brushed it off as being tired and having a headache which allowed you to take a reasonably early night without too many questions. Andy sat up with your dad for a few hours before coming up just after midnight. He wrapped his large arms around you, holding you safely against him as you slept, neither of you really wanting the dawn to arrive. But arrive it did, and with it a message from Benoit Blanc. “Huh,” Andy looked at his phone as the pair of you lay in bed, “he’s arranged a meeting at the mansion that belongs to Harlan’s old nurse…” You froze and swallowed, “I errr, wow. That’s…actually I don’t know what that is other than slightly surprising.” "It's almost over, honey," Andy pressed his lips to the top of your head. “What time are you going?” “I’ve to be there at one.” “Well, it’s about a forty minute drive. We can have brunch before you go.” “I’ve told your dad I have a bit of business, which isn’t a total lie.” Andy tossed the phone back onto the night stand, “I’ll be as quick as I can. I have to nip to meet Neal after as well but that won’t take long.” With a deep sigh, you sat up and emboldened, straddled his hips. "Andy, please, please promise me you'll be careful." “Honey, I’ll be fine. Blanc’s gonna be there.” His hands gently came to rest on the outside of your bare thighs, his fingers brushing the hem of your sleep shorts. “This is all gonna work out.” "You don't know this family, Andy," you placed your hands on top of his, your nails grating over his forearms. "They're vile. Marta is great, she truly is, but if anyone else is there..."

“Angel, stahp, please.” Andy sighed, “I’m not scared of them.” "Okay," you sighed, "Okay." “I’ve gotchu on this, I told you. I don’t give a shit what they throw at me, they started this, and I’m gonna make damned sure I finish it.” "You're something else, Andy Barber." You tried to roll your hips off his, but he planted his palms firmly against your thighs. "A modern knight." Andy chuckled, “no, I just don’t have boundaries when it comes to protecting the people I love.” “I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You whispered, your hand gently cupping his face. "I ask myself the same thing every day, Angel." He hummed as your fingers scratched at his beard. “Well, we both lost so much already, one way or another,” you mused, watching his eyes flicker shut, “maybe it was just our time to win a little.”

"I definitely won with you," his voice was soft and gravely. His one hand left your thigh and cupped your own face. The pair of you remained locked in your moment, silence wrapping around you, and Andy gently guided your face down to his. His lips slotted over yours in a gentle kiss, so soft and tender. When you pulled away, his eyes were dark but still so very sweet looking. "Let me love on you, Angel, please." The way he said it made you flutter. The two of you hadn't been together like that for a week, the stress of life overcoming you. Tired and worn down from the weekend prior, the long work days and now the travel, you both had gone to bed each night utterly wiped out. “You don’t need to ask, I’m yours.” "I'll always ask, honey." You responded by kissing him again, both your hands curling against his cheeks as you gave a quiet roll of your hips against his. His hands fell to your waist and squeezed, his thumbs ghosting along your skin under your cami. Another roll of your lower body had him grunting against your mouth, and with a quick movement he pulled your top over your head, sitting up to allow you to repay the favour. His nose brushing yours, his hands cupped your face as he kissed you, before he rolled you both sideways, laying you down on your back. Skin to skin you kissed, his tongue laving heavily against yours. There was a gentle eagerness to his movements, one that you felt also and as his mouth gently traced a path down your neck you sighed. Your hands tangled in his bed mussed hair and you shivered as his fingers trailed down your side. They curled around one side of your sleep shorts and started tugging them downward, the material catching on your right side. You raised your hips ever so slightly from the bed, allowing him to work the garment down your legs, losing them somewhere beneath the covers you were both tangled in. "I need you," you whispered. His face mere inches from yours. "Please, baby." “Oh, Angel, you got me.” His lips ghosted yours as he moved, one arm propping him over you as the other worked at his sleep pants. “Always.” He fisted his cock and gave your slit a rub, the tip pressing against your already swollen clit. You were wet, but not slick and it felt so good to feel that velvet head glide along your lips. You gave a little sigh, your head falling further back into the pillows as your hands wrapped around his upper arms. As he pushed into you, your nails dug into his skin, a gasp escaping your mouth at the slight stretch and burn. "Shhh, honey," he ground out. “I don’t care…” you groaned as he slowly pulled his hips back slightly before pushing back into you, this time driving slightly deeper. "Feels so good, Y/N," Andy panted. His hips snapped against you as you watched him maintain a controlled pattern, doing his best not to make the bed creak and groan. But you needed more. Pushing on his shoulders slightly, Andy read your signals and rolled onto his back. You moved, grabbing his cock in your hand and lining him up. You sank down onto him, and this time it was him that let out the groan and you smirked. Your hands found his, fingers laced together as you pressed them back against the pillow, either side of his head. As you twisted and rolled, he jutted upward into your wet walls. A soft moan rumbled through you as the combination ran your nerves like lava over a shore. Your breasts teased along his beard and he gave a gasp. “Fuck, Angel,” his voice was deep, gravelly as you pushed harder onto him, using his hands as leverage. "You like that, BB," you ground against him, your breath at the shell of his ear. "Just like that?" “Jesus fucking Christ,” his head whipped to the side, his lips locking to yours in a filthy, sloppy kiss. All the time your hips kept working as you totally took charge, Andy remaining pliant to your will. And you were relishing in the power you had over him. In that moment you felt in control, and it was a welcome distraction from the disorderly events of your life. You increased your tempo, bringing your hips up and down along his cock, your slick covering his shaft. The rest of your body led over his, only your hips gyrating as he dug his heels into the mattress, deep and steady. You could feel him start to tense under you, his face contorting into pleasurable scenes. His eyes desperately trying to stay on yours while his lips parted in pant and moan. He blinked hard, his eyes screwing shut and then opening wide again. "Fuck," he grunted. "I can't.... Jesus, Angel." "Don't cum, Andy," you whined. With a growl, Andy suddenly rolled the pair of you over, so you were once again underneath him in a desperate attempt to keep himself from blowing before you did. His hands grabbed yours and pinned them either side of your head, exactly the way you had done to him before. "Cum for me Angel, please baby girl, please," he begged in your ear. "I gotta.... Oh sweet-honey." “I’m close… so close,” you whined into his ear. You felt his hands move, pushing your arms further above your head. Before you knew it, his fingers were working loose from yours and one large hand held both your wrists in place as the other slid down between your legs, feeling just above the place you were joined. He touched your clit, adding that neglected pressure since you were flipped to your back and you broke, and broke hard, your body shivering in orgasmic delight as he watched you come undone. His single hand that cuffed your wrists held tight but not woundingly bound. Every touch and thrust was soft but weighted, nothing painful or remorseful, torturous or despicable. His mouth slanted over yours as he swallowed your groan. With a final, deep thrust he stilled, a grunt and a low whimper of his own bubbling from his throat. He barely pulled back, his lips ghosting across yours as he spoke with a heavy pant, "you okay?" “Yeah…” you swallowed, your chest heaving as you gathered your breath, “I’m good.” With a smirk, he planted a kiss to your lips in haste and rolled off. "Your dad's gonna kill me." “Trust me, he thinks the sun shines outta your ass,” you chuckled, “I doubt even defiling his daughter in her childhood bedroom would make him hold you in less esteem.” Andy chuckled lowly as you turned on your side, resting your head in your hand as you propped yourself up by your elbow. Your left hand wandered over his chest and tattoo, your fingertips tracing the inked lines on his skin before they came to play with the St. Christopher medallion against his chest. Suddenly there was a knock on the door that made you both jump. “If you guys are, erm, finished, your mom’s making pancakes.” Your dads voice drifted into the room and you had to fight back the laughter at the look of horror on Andy’s face. "Be right out, Dad!" You shouted back. "Come on handsome, let's eat." “41 years old…” he grumbled and you laughed, lightly slapping his chest. “Least we weren’t on the couch this time.” Thankfully, there were no mentions of your ‘sexploits’ at the breakfast table, even if Penny did shoot you a knowing look. But whatever smart ass quip she was about to come out with, was stopped as your dad pointedly reminded her that she had a viewing on an apartment that afternoon, not so subtly telling her he’d give her the cash for a down payment. Showered and shaved or trimmed, you were ready for a day with your mom as your dad broke off with Penny and Andy had his chore. The chilly Boston weather brought out the sweaters and thick denim in him and you smiled seeing how he'd worn your favorite black cashmere that brought out his frame, outlining it in the soft material rather than slimming him down like black did to many people. As you watched him pull on his jacket, that horrible feeling was back in your stomach. "I love you," he kissed you softly, longingly. "It's okay," he whispered as his nose bumped yours. “Please, call me as soon as you can,” your voice cracked. “I promise. Now, try and have a good time with your mom. And tell her dinner is on me tonight, we’ll get take out and have a few drinks.” "Okay," you nod and watched him go. Your dad and Penny were just getting into her car as Andy passed and you noticed how your dad stopped Andy quickly for an exchange of words before Andy shook his hand and went on his way. It made you smile how well they got on, and you watched Andy climb into the car before you jumped out of your skin as your mom laid a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Bean.” She chuckled, “are you okay?” “Yeah, it’s just been a long week what with Andy making partner and stuff, I haven’t had much time to breathe let alone anything else,” you smiled. "Well, judging by this morning, I'd say you found time for something," she smirked. “Oh shit,” you gave a groan which morphed into a laugh, “I’m sorry, Andy was mortified when Dad banged on the door.” "Mortified or not, you're a lucky girl," your mom joked. "I don't think your father has ever...." "Oh my God, Mom!" You gagged and your mother roared in laughter. You buried your face in your hands. "I'm just going to let the dog out and we'll go," she laughed as she strode towards the kitchen. "Grab your coat." “Where are we going?” "Shopping!" “Anything more specific? Lunch?” "Copley Place. And then yes, lunch," she replied. “Okay, then I’ll grab my coat and my purse and prepare to give Andy’s credit card a bashing.” “He left you his credit card?” Your mom raised a brow and you shrugged. “He needs a few things, we’re planning on going to Hawaii so I said if there was anything suitable I’d pick it up. Plus we have a joint account and stuff now for the house bills so it’s technically both our money, I’m not a kept woman.” You babbled and your mom frowned. “Woah, that’s not what I was saying.” Your mom shook her head. “Sorry, I just…” you swallowed, “this isn’t how it was before, that’s all.” "Oh Bean," it broke her heart. "Come on, I think we'll get pedicures too." You smiled, “okay, sounds good.” Your mom gently touched your arm before she turned to let Bongo out. As she approached the door to the mud room she paused. “Look, for what it’s worth, neither me nor your dad think that about you and Andy. He’s a great guy, and would clearly move heaven and earth for you. He worships the ground you walk on and this is the type of love we wanted for you. He’s the man you deserved the first time round.” You felt the tears well in your eyes and you managed a little nod. She smiled again and with that she gave her thigh a tap, Bongo obediently heading after her. Your mom was right, Andy would go to hell and back for you, as recent events had proven. But your mom had no idea just how dirty that journey was making him fight.

****HALFWAY POINT*****

Andy had made contact with Blanc immediately once he had set off. The PI assured him he was on his way, and sure enough, as Andy pulled off the main road and onto the tree lined drive, a blue SUV driven by Blanc joined him from the opposite direction. He exchanged a nod with Andy in the mirror and followed. When Andy pulled up to the gothic style and expansive home, he noted four cars already parked out front. Two of them were Porsche SUVs, one a BMW and the other a smaller, convertible Audi, not unlike his own. With a loud exhale, he grabbed the files on the seat next to him and exited the car. “Andy,” Blanc nodded, shaking his hand. "Benny." “I hope you don’t mind, but I called in a little back up. Don’t worry, he doesn’t know anything, but this case is a little personal for him too.” Benny nodded over Andy’s shoulder and he turned to see a mousy haired, friendly faced man who he recognized striding towards him. “Hey, Trooper!” Andy gave a little chuckle and shook his hand, “long time no see.” “Hey, Andy.” Wagner gripped his hand before he turned to Blanc, “Benny.” “Thanks for coming out,” “No trouble, I’m taking Marta to dinner later so it wasn’t like it was out of my way.” Trooper shrugged. “Plus, couldn’t pass this up, you know I love watching you at work!” Andy held back a smirk as the younger man clearly was enamoured by the Southern detective and his skills. “Yeah how is that going?” Blanc asked and Wagner gave a smile. “Good, yeah!” “He drives me insane,” a heavy accented voice spoke and Blanc turned to his right, letting out a chuckle. “Marta Cabrera, look at you!” The young woman gave Blanc a quick hug before she turned to Andy, smiling warmly. “You must be Mr Barber.” “Andy, please.” Andy shook her hand. Marta smiled then turned to Blanc. “They’re in the library, and don’t worry, that hideous display of knives has gone so you won’t have a repeat of last time.”

“Do they suspect anything?” Blanc asked. “No, they think there waiting for Alan.” “Who’s Alan?” Andy asked. “My solicitor, he used to be theirs. We got them here by telling them I was going to sell up and give them a chunk of money from the sale.” Marta raised a brow. “They’re too stupid and blind when it comes to money to smell a rat.” "Sneaky, I like it." Blanc said quietly. "You have learned a thing or two." Marta shrugged, “whatever you want with them, I don’t want to know so, I’ll be in the main parlour.” “Shall we?” Blanc gestured to the door. Andy nodded. He followed the group up the steps and into the hallway. “You redecorated?” Blank mused looking around. “I told her not to,” Wagner sighed wistfully and Marta rolled her eyes. “It was too dark for my liking.” "It gives the place a nice break," Blanc observed. "Less...." "Murderous?" "Something like that."

“Like is said, I’ll leave you to it.” Marta nodded. With a little chuckle, Blanc led Andy down the hallway and as he reached a large, oak door he stopped. “I know this situation bears no humour at all, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to enjoy going head to head with them again.” Andy merely raised a brow and took a deep breath. “Ready?” Blanc asked. Andy nodded. Blanc slid the door open and eyes immediately fell upon them. “Oh you are fucking kidding me.” Linda blurted our as she rose from the chair she had been lounging in. “You?” "Me." Andy flicked his brows upward. “Did you bring our money?” Richard demanded and Andy scoffed. “Fuck you.” “In that case this conversation is over before it’s even started!” Linda stomped towards Andy. “I’m leaving and I’m calling the police.” “No need to leave,” Blanc shook his head, “why, we have a police officer right here.” He gestured to Wagner who gave a little wave. “Hi.” "Oh what the fuck,” Richard balked. Andy watched as the cogs whirred in Linda’s head. He could tell she was trying to read the situation, wondering exactly why he had brought not only Blanc but the police officer and suddenly, Andy felt a huge rush of gratitude towards the PI. He’d done this specifically for a reason, to keep the Drysdales on the back foot. “Now, Mr Wagner is only going to be outside so if you do feel the need to involve the officials then we can do so but I think you might reconsider once you find out what Mr Barber has to say.” With a nod from Blanc, Wagner left but remained just outside the now open doorway. Andy cleared his throat and glared at Linda to take her seat. When she didn't, he flicked his brows and started his "presentation." With a dramatic flourish, he dropped the file on the desk to the side of the room, and nodded with his head towards it. “What’s that?” Linda snarked. “That contains the reason you’re going to leave Y/N alone from now on.” Andy made a show of undoing his jacket, a tactic he had learned from many a years interrogation. It gave your suspect or opponent the impression you were calm, had the time to spare, were in no rush at all because you had them bang to rights. He draped it over a nearby chair and turned, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes watching as Linda picked up the file. The colour quickly drained from her face as she plucked a photo from the pile. "What is this?" "What is it?" Richard wondered and hurriedly crossed the room towards his ex-wife.

“Bank statements.” Andy said simply, “interesting ones too. Mr Blanc took the liberty of highlighting the relevant sections.” "You son of a bitch," Linda looked at the offending item. "You'll never get away with it. Your little whore killed my son." “Did she?” Blanc interjected, “I thought it was a mugging?”

"Oh cut the shit, you Kentucky Fried idiot. You know as well as I do she did." Blanc laughed, “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, I can assure you that. However, if as you claim, Miss Y/L/N is responsible for your son’s very tragic death, then why wasn’t she arrested?” "They couldn't prove it," Richard added.

“Oh, and you can?” Blanc asked, “you can prove it where the police cannot?” "We have proof." Linda claimed. “You got shit!” Andy laughed. "Oh, how do you know? You're not the fancy ADA you used to be. You can't help her. No one can." “No, but I do know the ADA, good friend of mine is Mr Loguidice,” Andy held Linda’s gaze. “He told me all about the lack of evidence for that fucker’s murder. No forensics, no witnesses, nothing but a blurry CCTV image of a male suspect running from the scene.” “Huh, did Miss Y/L/N used to be a man?” Blanc asked and Andy snorted. “Like I said, they got shit.” His tone was now laced with venom and disgust. "Your hopes died with the last gargled breath of Ransom's mugger as he went the same way your son did, choking on his own blood.” At Andy’s words, Richard and Linda exchanged a glance. “How do you know about that?” Richard floundered and Andy raised his brows, folding his arms. “You know, you really are fucking stupid.” He scoffed, “it’s not like my family history is a secret, is it?” He turned to Blanc who looked at him and blinked. “I thought everyone knew about your father?” “Your father?” Linda’s jaw clenched and Andy saw her face as a look of understanding slid across her features. “Shit.” “Shit indeed.” Andy’s hands fell to his hips, “they were in the same jail. We don’t talk much but he’s there if I need him.” The room fell silent as Richard and Linda once more exchanged a look. Eventually, Blanc broke the silence. “So, let’s just back it up.” He waved his hand in front of him, “There’s no forensics, no evidence, no witnesses…” he paused dramatically, “and as far as I can see no motive. I mean from what I saw of Ransom and Y/N, they were totally in love and besotted. Why on Earth would she want to kill him?” Silence stayed within the room. Hard swallows were seen on the necks of the Drysdales. Glares sent daggers from their eyes. Blanc looked around the room, a little grin on his face. “Money, her motive was money!” Richard suddenly spluttered and Andy shook his head, an irritated laugh flying from his mouth. “Did Mr Drysdale leave a will?” Blanc asked. “No, but…” “So everything passed to her by Probate, is that correct?” “Yes.” “Hmm, Mr Barber, in your expert, legal opinion, is it always a given that a wife, or husband inherits their other half’s estate should something happen to them?” “In the absence of a will it’s a default position, yes.” Andy raised a brow, not quite sure where Blanc was going. “Hmm,” Blanc nodded, “but the thing is, to prove that money was indeed a motive for Y/N to kill Mr Drysdale, because she assumed she would inherit everything in the manner by which she did, then she would have had to know he hadn’t made a will. Did any of you know he hadn’t made one?” "No." Richard answered and Linda glared. "God damn it, Richard, shut up." “No, you didn’t. But here’s the funny thing,” Blanc pondered again, “you contested the decision, and in the court case that followed Alan, your family solicitor gave evidence, did he not, that stated that Ransom had approached him to indeed, make a will.” Andy blinked and looked at Blanc in amazement. "Get to the point," Linda snarled. “That same solicitor also stated at the court case that it was, indeed Ransom’s intention to ensure that Miss Y/L/N was to be cared for in his will, but that she wasn’t to know.” Blanc raised his brows, “you must remember all this, surely? Ransom didn’t want her or anyone else to know the content of his will, so that you couldn’t target her like you all targeted Miss Cabrera. Quite ironic, really, don’t you think?” "She owes us," Linda wasn't relenting. "Tell them, Richard." “You’re getting fuck all,” Andy shook his head, “You got nothing on her, but I’ll make this real simple. You either drop this right now, or those files with evidence of payments from you to Dr Ross go straight to the ADA and the pair of you find yourself up on a charge for perverting the course of justice.”

That didn't seem to appeal to Linda at all for she closed her jaw tightly and folded her arms across her chest while turning her glare on Richard who looked like a frightened deer in headlights on a dark country road. “And I would hate for you two to meet the same, sticky end on the inside that your son met in that dark alley.” Andy’s voice was cold as he issued the threat. "Are you threatening me?" Linda wasn't entirely done fighting yet. "I dont' threaten, I make promises and I see them through. Stay the fuck away from Y/N and her family or I will ruin you.” "Now, I do believe you are trespassing on Miss Cabrera's property, and Trooper Wagner here can kindly escort you or you can go at your will." Blanc stepped in. “You son of a bitch,” Richard snarled at Andy, who merely popped a shoulder. “I warned you last time not to cross me, you didn’t listen. Maybe now you will.” "Trooper Wagner?" Blanc called out. "Yes?" "Please escort Mr. Drysdale and Ms. Thrombey to their cars. I do believe their business here is over and they are trespassing." “Gladly, Benny!” Wagner stepped into the room. Linda and Richard exchanged a glance before Linda screwed her face up in disgust. As they passed Andy by, he held his arm out stopping Richard in his tracks, “unlike your son, I don’t hit women, so you better keep your ex-wife on a tight leash. Because if I get a sniff she’s so much as thought about coming back at us, it’ll be you that gets a beating within an inch of his life, and I won’t need anyone to do it for me. Understand what I’m saying?” In a cowardice nod, Richard continued on. Linda and Richard started bickering with one another over the now foiled plan they had hoped to execute against you. But, Andy was a professional and he didn't hold his career by just water alone. He fought with tenacity and struck with venom. He was good at getting what he wanted, the results he needed and this time it was by any means necessary. As they were escorted out, their bickering died down, and it was only when he could no longer hear their voices that Andy let out a huge breath. "I do believe your nightmare is over," Blanc stated. “I can’t thank you enough,” Andy shook his hand furiously, “seriously, I owe you big time. And I don’t just mean your bill.” "Bill?" Blanc questioned. "Oh no, this was personal. A pro-bono case." Andy blinked, before he shook his head, “there’s really no need.” “I insist, but there is one thing you can do for me.” "Anything," Andy nodded. “When you and miss Y/N get married, save me a seat. I do love wedding cake.” Andy grinned and then chuckled loudly, as he shrugged on his jacket "oh you'll have front row." With a smile, Blanc clapped Andy on the shoulder and the two men headed out of the room. They each thanked Marta and Wagner; Andy providing information on how to reach him if anything should come back on them but he suspected his threats were permanent and this was the last anyone associated with you or Ransom would hear from his parents again. Especially when it came to you. With his shoulders and mind considerably lighter, he headed back to his car, pulling out his phone. You answered after two rings. “Hi,” "Hi honey," he sighed. “You sound upset,” you whispered "Quite the opposite," Andy smiled behind his words. "Its over, Angel." When no reply came, Andy tried again, “Angel?” “I… “ you stuttered, “I don’t…” and then he heard a quiet sob. "Y/N," Andy started to grow concerned. He kept driving, his foot on the gas just a little heavier. "Honey..." “I’m okay,” you stuttered, “I just…” It choked him up to hear the relief in your own sobs. Your nightmare was over and you had won, the two of you had won and come out on top “Where are you,” he sniffed a little as he drove back towards town. "The dressing room at the mall." “You find anything nice?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation casual. "I did, yeah," you sniffed. "Andy..." “Yeah, baby?” “Thank you.” “No need to thank me, honey. I told you I’d fix this and I did. Now, I’ve got one last thing to do. I’m handing the photos of the Doctor over to Neal so that he doesn’t get chance to touch another young girl again. And then, I’m going back to your parents and when you get home, Imma give you the biggest kiss you’ve ever had in your life.” "I can't wait." You sniffed again. "I love you, Angel," Andy said happily and tearfully. "I'll see you soon." “I love you too.” As the call cut, Andy wiped his eyes and took a moment before he called Neal. Neal gave Andy his address, and it made Andy snort when he realized he’d never actually bothered to ever ask Neal where he lived before. Twenty minutes later he was ringing the doorbell. The tall and lengthy man with dark hair and prominent features answered the door, his polo a bit wrinkled. Andy held out the manila envelope, declining his invitation in. “I can’t stay, but everything I promised you is in there. Physical and digital copies.” Neal took the offering and licked his lips. "Thanks, Andy." “Do me a favour, don’t fuck this one up. Bury the perverted bastard.” "You have my word," he agreed. “Thanks.” Andy nodded. “And not just for this, but the other information you gave me.” "It pan out?" "More than you know," Andy nodded. “Good, I’m glad. I’ll keep you posted on how this goes.” Andy gave a short dip of a nod, "goodbye, Neal." “Take care, Andy.” Andy turned and left as Neal closed the door to his home. That was the final piece to the entire thing. It' was officially finished and nothing was going to happen again. He knew it, knew it in his gut. With a smile to himself, he glanced up at the sky, before he climbed in the car and pulled away from the curb. **** Your mind wasn't focused on lunch as your mom chatted away, in fact it was miles from where the two of you sat inside the Back Bay restaurant she'd chosen for your meal. Yet you managed to remain in conversation and answer her when she asked you questions. The drive home was silent and your mom pawned it off on you were tired from the trip and the day. The two of you had cleared out the mall it seemed. And as she pulled up to the house you grew up in, you couldn't help the rush of joy and washed over you as you noted Andy had beat you home. “Oh you really got it bad,” your mom noticed your reaction and chuckled as she turned off the ignition, “that’s the most animated you’ve been all afternoon.” "Yeah, I think I do, Mom." Your smiled beamed. If she only knew just how bad you had it, just how deeply you were connected to Andy. The ordeals you’d gone through apart and together, she’d really then understand. “So any sign of a…” your mom held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. "MOM!" You giggled as you pulled your bags from the car. "We've... I don't know. We haven't entirely ever talked about it." “Entirely or not at all?” "Not a formal conversation, let's just leave it at that," you answered. The front door swung open and Penny snorted. "You bring me anything?" “Did you give me any money to buy you anything?” Your mom shot back. "Well, no, but Dad and I signed my new lease, so..." Your eyes dipped into the lounge where your dad and Andy were sitting contently with beers in hand. “Oh that’s awesome!” You smiled. “Finally,” your mom grinned. Andy’s eyes met yours and you gave him a smile. “Hey BB.” “Hey, honey.” “Jesus, woman.” Your dad looked at the bags in your mom’s hands, “leave any money in the account for the bills?” "Shut up before you starve tonight," your mom retorted. “Jokes on you, wench,” your dad snorted, “Andy's buying takeout.” "Oh, Andy, you don't need to," your mom smiled. "Nonsense, least I could do. You're putting us up for the weekend," Andy smiled as he took the bags from your hand. "I'll help with these." “Thanks, just gonna pop this stuff on our room,” you smiled to your mom and dad. “You gonna help me with mine?” Your mom shot to your dad. "Nope." “Forty fuckin’ years…” your mom grumbled as she looked at you, rolling her eyes, “I’d have done less time for murder.” At her words you and Andy exchanged a look, before you burst out laughing. And it was uncontrollable. “It’s not that funny,” Penny snorted as your dad rose to his feet with a groan and some wisecrack you didn’t quite hear. “Sorry, bad in joke,” you shook your head, as Andy laughed. Andy carried your bags upstairs while your father grumbled jokingly as he sorted your mom's. Once your bedroom door closed, Andy had you in his embrace. Despite your moment of laughter seconds before, you were in tears with your face pressed into his chest. “It’s over, baby,” he soothed, his nose buried into your hair, “it’s all over.” He held you close as you soaked his sweater, no doubt your make up smearing over the material but you didn't care. You couldn't possibly feel no greater relief than what you had felt in that moment. Your body shook as you cried, the sobs muted but there. Your fingers pressed into Andy's back as you held him close like a lifeline that he'd become. You weren't dependent on him, that's not how you felt, you just simply felt the need to be with him, the serene disposition he provided and the love you felt for him was unimaginable. Like nothing you'd ever experienced. Andy made no movement other than to hold you close, rocking you slightly as he whispered soft reassurances into your hair. And when your sobs stopped and you pulled away, you looked up and saw glassy blue eyes staring lovingly down at you. "I'll take that kiss now, Counselor.” With a smile, Andy cupped your face in his large hands and pressed his lips to yours. "I love you, honey," he whispered. “I love you too, so fucking much Andy,” He went in for another kiss, immediately his tongue deep down your throat and you gripped at the chest of his damp sweater to ground yourself. One of his large hands slid round the back of your head, holding you in placed as his lips worked hungrily against yours. His other arm dipped around your back and splayed his hand over your spine. That beard brushed against your face and you felt the soft bristles paint you like a canvas. You had no idea how long he was kissing you for, but when he finally pulled away you were breathless, and light headed. “You’re free, Angel.” “Sorta, I… I think there’s one thing left I need to do, then we can move on, completely.” "What's that," Andy was puzzled. “My parents, they deserve to know the truth.” Andy was a little stunned by your admission. But he understood and given he wished he'd made similar choices in his past, he wanted that proper closure for you. “If that’s what you wanna do then I’ll back you all the way.” "It is, I have to." You nodded. "Okay." He nodded. "Then we'll do it." He paused and took your hand, "together, okay?" He followed you out of your room and back downstairs, Bongo on his heels as he'd been perched outside your room, no doubt having heard your cries. Your parents and Penny were sat in the lounge, just chatting away when they noted your appearance and Andy's hand in yours. "Oh Jesus, you didn't just break up did you?" Penny griped, "I mean your anniversary is just a week away." “No, of course we didn’t.” You shook your head. “Then what’s… oh my shit, are you pregnant!” “Shut up, Penny.” "Oh my God, are you?" Your mom grew excited. "NO!" You sputtered. "Just, I have something to tell you." You looked to Andy and he nodded back, giving you the push to start. "It's about Ransom." “For fucks sake,” your mom snarled. “Hush, darling, let her speak,” your dad soothed her. You watched him sit up straight and set his beer down on the coffee table. You had a feeling he knew something like this was coming. He'd always hinted he had inklings of something not right happening between the two of you. “Angel, let’s sit down.” Andy gently placed his hand on your back. You sat down on the love seat with Andy taking a spot next to you. You bounced your leg for a moment trying to find where to start. And then, you just did. You started from the beginning. You started back when you took the job for the article after his trial and from there you poured out each and every detail you could to explain what had happened to you. What he'd put you through and spared no expense as you reached your climatic end. Your parents and sisters reactions were exactly what you could have predicted. Anger, heartbreak, guilt, and by the time you finished you were sobbing with them, the only one in the room with a semblance of control was Andy. "And you knew?" Your father sniffed, turning to look at him. Andy bowed his head, “only for the last month or so.” "I'd like to say I wish we'd known sooner, but in a way, I understand." Your mother cried. "Lucky we didn't," your father shook his head, "or I'd be in prison." “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you wiped your eyes, “and I know you might hate me for keeping this from you and now burdening you all with this secret that I’m…” "You stop, right there, do you hear me?" Your dad was on his feet and stood before you. "Don't you ever for one second think that your mother and I could ever hate you for this." You looked up at him, blinking back the tears as he crouched down in front of you. "You are my little girl and I would have fought for you to the death, Y/N. You and Penny both, there is nothing in this world that I wouldn't do to protect you." With a shake of his head and a sob he wiped his eyes, "I'm only sorry I couldn't do it then." "Daddy..." you sputtered. The man you looked up to had you in his arms faster than you could blink as he sobbed holding you. Andy bit back his own tears as he let you have your moment with your father. Soon, your mother had her arms wrapped around you both and then Penny. As the huddle pulled apart, your dad stepped back, wiping his face and your mom moved towards him. His arms wrapped around her as Penny simply stood, looking a little lost. "It's over now," you said. "It's all over." “I need a drink,” you dad shook his head and your mom nodded. “Good idea.” "I'll order us some dinner," Andy stood but not before kissing your temple. He followed your mom and dad into the kitchen and you stood but stumbled as Penny latched on to you. "I'm so sorry," she cried. "I was such a bitch about you being with him and..." "It's okay," you hugged her back. "I'm okay." “You’re so strong.” "I don't know how I did it, to be honest." You cried. "There were so many times I wanted to give up. But something kept telling me to keep going." Penny hugged you tighter and then let go, leaving you in the lounge. You heard Andy's voice call for you and you turned, seeing his sparkling eyes peeking around the corner of the wall. His warm smile made you smile as he wondered if you wanted Dino's or Luigi's. And that was the end of it. If was strange, because you’d just dropped this monumental secret on them. A life changing secret in many ways, but it was also as if you were providing them the final piece to a puzzle which they’d stop trying to solve a while back. The atmosphere wasn’t tense, or strange, just warm and oddly serene.

You and your family had a night of laughs as you played a couple of games, enjoyed pizza and beers and even breaking out your dad's hard stuff before submitting to the exhausting day. “Andy, you want a nightcap?” Your dad asked as you and your mom rose to your feet, Penny having gone up half an hour or so earlier. You understood that there was a veiled request to your dad's words, he wanted Andy alone and thankfully, Andy understood as he nodded. “Sure, one more sounds good.” “See you upstairs.” You gave him a quick kiss before you left them to it His eyes watched you go until you were out of sight and a tumbler of freshly poured scotch sat in front of him as your father took up the seat you'd just vacated. There was a moment of silence as the two men both took a sip of their drinks before your dad let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t…” he shook his head, “you’re a father, Andy, how do I even begin to process that?” "Try not to." Andy replied honestly. “Son of a fucking bitch. Hope he’s rotting in hell.” "Yep," Andy and sipped his scotch. “Look, Y/N is strong, she’s survived. And she’s living a life, a good life, that I’m blessed to be part of,” he took a deep breath, “and I promise you, that nothing like that will ever happen to her again. I’d die before I let anyone hurt her.” "The missus and I possess a debt greater than anything in this world to you." "No, no you don't." Andy shook his head. "I love her like I've never loved anything in this life, well apart from Jacob that is. But the love I have for him feels so different compared to this, compared to how I feel with Y/N. She inspires me each and every day to be a better man because she's the best person alive." “The love for your kids always is different,” your dad shrugged, “you love them because they’re a part of you. You have to. But your partner, you choose to love them. You choose to forgive their less favourable traits because you adore their better ones.” Andy understood exactly. It wasn't far from the conversation he and your father had just shy of a year ago this winter. "You saved her life, you saved my little girl," he tearfully smiled. “No, she did that herself.” Andy shook his head. "No," your father was adamant, "you brought her back to life. She's that little girl again that laughed at everything, that had a sense of adventure and loved life. That's who she was before that fucking sick bastard got his hands on her." Your dad took another slug of his scotch, “Even after he'd died and the initial process of everything, she wasn't the same and now I know why." “No, I…” Andy sighed, “she did that for me. I was existing before she walked into that bar. She gave me a reason to enjoy life instead of merely living it. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life being grateful for that.” Your dad blinked, his head cocked to one side. "What are you saying, Andrew?" Andy took a deep breath, “I guess, well no, I don’t guess, I am… I’m asking you for your blessing. I want to marry your daughter.” "Jesus Christ man, took you long enough to ask," your dad clapped a hand over Andy's shoulder and grinned with tears in his eyes. "Andy, I can honestly say I've never been more happy to say yes to something." “Well, she’s gotta say yes yet.” Andy smiled back. "Of that my boy, I have no doubt.” With a smile, Andy necked his scotch and your dad did the same. Both men then stood, and your Dad pulled Andy in for a bear hug, slapping his back. They bid each other good night and Andy headed to your room, to find you fast asleep. Quietly he got ready for bed and slipped softly into the covers besides you. His arm wrapped over your waist and he pressed a gentle kiss to your neck before sleep finally overtook him, his dreams drifting to you, wearing a white dress on your body, and a huge smile on your face.

**** Chapter 17

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 16

A/N: Y’all this chapter is TEN THOUSAND WORDS DON’T EVEN @ ME YOU’RE WELCOME AND *STANLEY TUCCI VOICE* GIRD YOUR LOINS

January 9th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was going to go insane.  

This was, perhaps, going to be the busiest day of her life thus far.  This morning was the outdoor practice in Nathan Phillips Square.  She and Peter were responsible for co-ordinating the photographers, videographers, and the team to get down to Nathan Phillips Square.  Once there, Aberdeen was responsible for helping to manage every single every single member of the media who were attending and covering the event, as well as Mayor John Tory and all the wives and girlfriends in attendance.  And though she had the afternoon off to get ready, tonight was the Night With the Blue and White, the organization’s biggest and most important event of the season.  She’d been studying the guest list for weeks, making sure Brendan would know – or at least pretend to know, thanks to her – every guest in attendance, and Peter was doing the same thing for Kyle.  She’d even bought a new dress and shoes for the occasion – fancier than anything she’d ever bought.  She knew that a lot of important and influential people would be there donating their money to the MLSE Launchpad initiatives around the city.  They were even hosting a grade three class of one of the schools who benefitted from the programs.  It was going to be busy, but hopefully fun.

There were cameras everywhere.  Aberdeen knew she’d probably get caught on a few of them, news ones or otherwise, but today, she didn’t care.  There were more important things on her mind.  Brendan was expecting a lot from her, and she knew she had to deliver.  She knew she could deliver.

When she had everything she needed from the office, she made her way down to the locker room.  She entered quietly as she saw all the guys in their long johns and extra base layers, listening to Keefe and Hakstol as they explained how the outdoor practice was going to be organized into teams and tournaments and points.  The energy from the guys was palpable and she could feel it within herself, too.  Cameras were already filming.  She saw William, already with his balaclava on, flash a peace sign to the camera pointed at him.  

When the guys began to put on their gear, she watched Brendan make his way across the room.  He was already wearing his peacoat and scarf.  “You ready?” he asked.

“As ready as I can be,” she smiled.

“Here, wear this,” he said, handing her a knit Leafs toque, the same one all the guys were wearing as well.  “You’re gonna need it.  It’s freezing out there.”

Aberdeen put the hat on as Brendan held her clipboard for her.  After adjusting it, she looked up at him.  “How do I look?”

If this was William asking the question to her, she would have come up with some smart aleck remark – a Costco hot dog or a bottle of Tums in assorted berries flavour.  But because it was Brendan, he said something much nicer.  “Like you’re a member of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” he smiled.  It almost made her swoon.  “Now let’s get this party started, shall we?”

***

“Devon!  Devon!  Your slot is up to interview John as he’s walking.  You cameraman is ready to go live in ten.”

“Carrie, stick with Travis for now.  Goat?  Where’s Goat?  We need him for the French interview.”

“Gerry, you can interview Kyle now, but you only have two minutes.”

Aberdeen was practically skipping to keep up with all the players and media walking through the Toronto streets as they made their way to a full Nathan Phillips Square.  She didn’t have long strides like these hockey boys did with her short little legs.  She noticed all the interviewers being where they needed to be to go live and let out a sigh of relief.  Walking through the streets of Toronto, going on the subway, and having fans, constructions workers, commuters, and more stop the guys left, right and centre for autographs and pictures and selfies was one thing, but once they got to the actual square, with all the media, it was going to be mayhem.  

And she needed to make sure they had Tim Horton’s cups around.

All the guys filed into the square, high fiving the waiting fans who were now screaming at their arrival before they went to the bench and started to put on their skates.  Once they were all there and accounted for (Aberdeen honestly felt like she was on a school trip; she didn’t know how her mother did this with six year olds when she could barely corral a bunch of grown men), she made her way towards where the media was waiting.  Peter was already there.

“Okay everyone!” he screamed out.  Nobody heard him.  “Everyone!” he screamed out again, louder this time, but still nobody heard him.  “Journalists!” he tried one more time.

“HEY!!!!!” Aberdeen screamed at the top of her lungs.  Every journalist and cameraperson there turned silent and looked her way.  Peter looked at her in shock, not knowing she was capable of such a volume.  “Alright!  Listen up!  You each have a designated station to place your cameras.  You are to stay in your station throughout the practice and not encroach on the space of the others!  Journalists and videographers, you’re following Peter who will lead you to your stations, where you are to remain until practice is finished, where you will then go into the media scrum!  Photographers, you are going to follow me and I will lead you to your stations.  Is everybody clear?!”

Everyone nodded their heads and divided themselves easily, with Aberdeen leading the photographers one way and Peter leading the journalists and videographers another.  When she got back to her original spot, that’s when she saw John Tory.  “Mr. Mayor!  Hello!  I’m Aberdeen Bloom, Brendan Shanahan’s executive assistant,” she smiled and shook his hand.  She noticed he was wearing a Leafs varsity jacket.  “Follow me, sir.  You get the sweet spot behind the bench.”

“You know, I look forward to this event every year,” he made small talk with her as they began walking.  “Did you say you were Brendan’s personal assistant?”

“Yes sir.  Although after getting the team on the subway and over here, I feel like I’m herding cats,” she joked.

John Tory laughed.  He’d laughed at a dumb joke she made.  Her dad would be so proud of her.  He’d probably brag at the next dinner party he and Orla had.  “You’re very lucky, Aberdeen.  I bet a million people would kill for your job.”

“I agree, sir.” Aberdeen tapped Brendan’s shoulder to get him to turn around.  “Mr. Mayor, Mr. Shanahan, I’m sure you’re well acquainted.”

The two men shook hands.  Brendan focused his attention quickly on Aberdeen.  “Would you mind meeting Jennifer Spezza and waiting for the others?”

Aberdeen nodded, leaving the mayor with him as she went back to the entrance, near the stairs to the subway.  Once there, she saw Jennifer waiting patiently.  Jennifer smiled once she saw Aberdeen, and extended her arms to hug her.  “It’s always nice to see you, Aberdeen,” she smiled.

“You too, Jen.”

“A bunch of the girls are coming together – Emma, Kat, Steph, Audrey, Saylor, and Alexis are coming together and should be here any second.  Aryne, Bee, and Alannah are running a bit late because of Jace, but only by like five minutes,” Jennifer informed her.  

“Okay, great.  We’ll wait till everyone gets here and then I’ll bring everyone over,” Aberdeen nodded her head.  

“How’s the day been so far?”

Aberdeen shrugged.  “Hectic, but fine.”

“Have you breathed?” Jen joked.

Aberdeen giggled.  “Barely.”

Only moments later, Kat was running up the stairs with Niylah on a harness and leash, and Emma carried Ralph in her arms.  Aberdeen pet the dogs until Aryne, Bee, and Alannah showed up.  Aberdeen led them all to their designated area, and stayed with them as the practice happened.  She liked them – they were a nice group of women, and although Aberdeen was never inserted into any supposed drama she may have heard rumblings about, she was sure they were all good people.  Once they were all there, Aberdeen knew her jobs for the day were done, and that she could breathe again.  Unless Brendan called her to do anything else, she was free.  

“Aberdeen, are we going to see you tonight?” Bee asked as the girls sipped on the complimentary hot chocolate provided for them.

“You bet,” she smiled.

“Oooooooh!” Jen smiled from beside Bee, hopping excitedly.  “What are you wearing?!”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Aberdeen winked.

“What colour is it?” Bee asked.

“Green.”

“Oooooooooooooh,” both women cooed as they made eyes with each other and then Aberdeen.  “You’re gonna knock all of us dead, Aberdeen.  You always look so stylish around the SBA.”

“I don’t think so,” she shook her head nervously.  “You guys are all way too glam for me.”

“Can I get a hot dog pleeeeease?” William’s loud, playful voice interrupted as he skated towards the entrance of the bench where all the girls were.  He shot the girls one of his signature smiles before one of the equipment guys laughed and shook his head as he called behind him for another hot dog.  He was handed one promptly, handing it to William who proceeded to stuff half of it into his mouth in one go.  

Aberdeen shook her head.  Now he was just being obnoxious.

***

“William’s jaw is going to hit the floor, Aberdeen,” Kasha mused as she took some last minute pictures of Aberdeen in her full look.  She’d been hyping Aberdeen up for the last ten minutes as she snapped pictures of her in their apartment – pictures that would no doubt be on Instagram later that evening, pending some light editing and filter choice – even though she should have left for Evan’s place five minutes ago, choosing to spend the night with him so she didn’t have to spend it alone.  

“Shut up.”

“The floooooooor!”

Okay, maybe Kasha was right.  Aberdeen looked good, and she knew she looked good.  She had on her new green chiffon dress, perfect for the occasion: ruched top, draped across her shoulders; triangle mesh cut-out on the bodice; pleated chiffon skirt dropping down to the floor.  Nude strappy hells.  Matching nude clutch.  The evil eye ring Willy got her was the only piece of jewelry she wore.  She gotten her hair professionally done at a salon: smooth and silky old Hollywood style waves with a centre part, held back by a fashionable and trendy velvet headband pinned in place so absolutely nothing would budge.  Even her makeup was flawless: dewy skin, a neutral eye with lashes and liner, and Charlotte Tilbury’s ‘Walk of Shame’ on her lips.  She was a vision.  She was owning every inch of her look.

Too bad she had to work tonight.

“Okay, I think my Uber is here,” Aberdeen said as she saw the notification on her phone screen.

“One more!  One more!” Kasha yelled before Aberdeen posed one last time and Kasha took a burst of photos.  “Okay, have a great night.  Knock Willy dead—”

“—This isn’t about Will—”

“—Knock Willy dead, be fun, and stay safe,” Kasha ended.  “You’re going to rock it, Aberdeen.  And don’t forget to network!”

The Uber dropped her off about six cars down from the entrance to the Royal York Hotel – it was already busy with a bunch of arrivals, but she knew Brendan wouldn’t be there for at least another ten or fifteen minutes.  Once she checked her coat in, she looked around, and Peter’s face was the first one she saw.

“Oh…oh my God, Aberdeen.  You look so chic,” Peter smiled, looking over her outfit.  

“Oh, thanks Peter,” she smiled back.  “You look quite dapper yourself.  We clean up pretty nice, don’t you think?”

“I’d say,” he quipped.  “Gotta make sure all these new suits fit before I go to the All-Star Game.”

Peter had been talking about the All-Star Game since at least Christmas.  It was the event he looked forward to the most all season, even more than this, because of all the people he was able to meet and network with.  This year, it was being hosted in St. Louis, and he, Brendan, and Kyle were going down together.  She’d have at least eight days off during that time period.  She was basically counting down the days.  “Well, wear this one.  You look good.”

“You want some champagne before our bosses get here?” he asked, already flagging down one of the waitresses.  He took two flutes off the tray and handed one to Aberdeen.  “To the dream job,” he said, raising the glass slightly.

Aberdeen smirked.  “To the dream job.”

They both drank the champagne all in one go.  Aberdeen loved champagne, and of course this was the good champagne – so she almost immediately wanted another.  When another waiter came by, they placed their empty glasses on his tray.  Peter left to go to the washroom quickly before Kyle got there.  Aberdeen was left alone.

That’s when she saw William.

He was in a suit, of course – a black, three-piece corduroy suit with a white shirt and black skinny tie – and his hair was tied back in a half ponytail like a European soccer player.  He’d trimmed his beard since that morning at the outdoor practice for a much more polished look – still stubbly and a bit scruffy (just how she liked him…fuck) but presentable and respectable.  Appropriate for a gala full of rich people.  He looked great.  The suit fit him perfectly.  His hair was shiny as hell – probably shinier than hers.  He stood confidently.

And then he saw her.  

His jaw dropped.  Literally dropped.  And when he finally realized it had dropped he brought his hand up to cover it, barely, his smile from ear to ear peeking through the weak attempt.  She hated to admit it, but she loved having that effect on him – she loved having that visible effect on him, one that made his jaw drop uncontrollably.  She mentally prepared herself as he began to walk over to her.  She knew she had to keep it cool.  If he made her weak at the knees barely five minutes into her attendance at the event, she’d be a goner.  

“Hey Will,” she smiled, a twinkle in her eye that dared him to give her another up-down.

“Aberdeen…I…” he paused, unable to find the words.  He even shook his head.  “You…I…wow!” he giggled out.  She really left him unable to form a cohesive sentence.  But she waited it out, not saying anything until he said something.  She wanted to make him suffer, if only a little bit.  “You look beautiful, minskatt,” he finally said, four cohesive words in a row that made sense.

“Thanks, Will.”

“I mean…you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen on any day, but this…” he said, licking his lips.  “I don’t know how I’ll be able to control myself all night.”

Aberdeen tried finding any hint of lie in what he was saying, but she couldn’t.  He was too bashful and it was all coming out so sincerely – he really didn’t have the words.  “I think it helps we’re seated at different tables.”

“Just means the desire will grow until the end of the night,” he said.  “So long as I get to look at you all night, I’ll consider myself a lucky guy.”

She was blushing at this point, and it wasn’t because of him blatant flirting – he was used to that.  She was blushing more about the fact that he meant every word, that every word was so sincere in his tone, that she could see how much she was really affecting him.  “You flatter me too much, Will.”

“You deserve it, minskatt.  You’re stunning.  The most beautiful girl in the room.  But how do I look?”

With nobody around, nobody to hear and nobody to record a witty remark, she smiled slightly.  “You’re the most handsome man in the room.”

Before she could say anything else, Peter came back.  And when Peter came back, William played it cool, and made some small talk before walking off, but as he walked off, he shot Aberdeen a look that followed her around the room.  Wherever he was standing, whoever he was talking to – William was always staring at her, giving her that look, and it sent shivers down her spine as she tried to keep up a conversation with Peter.

Brendan and Catherine finally arrived, along with Kyle and Shannon, and Peter and Aberdeen got to work.  Standing discreetly behind them at all times, they whispered the names of all the attendees who approached them throughout the party, starting in the foyer and moving into the Canadian room – the massive ballroom where everything would be taking place.  And there were a lot of guests.  With over 1000 people in attendance, Aberdeen and Peter needed to know…well, probably around three hundred of them.  She’d been studying for weeks.

“That’s Brian J. Porter, the President and CEO of Scotiabank.”

“Wendy Freeman, the president of CTV News.”

“That’s Gary Doncaster, of the law firm Doncaster, Perlman, and Dobbes.”

Brendan played it cool the entire time.  After Kyle and Peter had separated from them for a bit, they rejoined each other.  From practically across the room, she saw William sipping on a glass of water, watching her intently.  He set it down at what she presumed to be his table.  She tried to focus on the job at hand.  

“Peter?” she heard Kyle say suddenly, in a nervous voice.  Someone and his wife were waving at him and Brendan, slowly making their way towards them, and Kyle clearly needed to know who they were.  

“Oh!  Um…oh my God,” Peter began, panicking.  “I just – I can’t remember what his name is.  I—I just saw his name this morning on the list.”

Aberdeen began panicking too now.  She tried to urge Peter to figure it out, but he couldn’t get it.  “It’s…oh, I know this!  It’s something to do with…wait, he was…he was part of the…oh God!  I know this.  Um…”

The man and his wife were dangerously close.  Aberdeen swooped in behind Kyle.  “That’s Malcolm Mercer, the Chair of the Government and Public Affairs Committee of the Law Society of Ontario, and that’s the woman he left his wife for, Rebecca.”

Aberdeen even surprised herself with that.  She watched as Kyle politely greeted Rebecca first before shaking hands with Malcolm, starting some small talk with them.  She looked over at Peter, who was already looking at her.  “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“I got you,” she nodded.

***

Brendan, Catherine, and Aberdeen were seated with Ron MacLean from Hockey Night in Canada, and an array of other guests who had paid top dollar to sit with the President of the Toronto Maple Leafs, one of whom was just a solidly rude aging man on his own personal power trip.  Thankfully, he wasn’t seated next to her, or Brendan for that matter, but she could still hear him: the stiff comments, the complaints.  Clearly, he only cared about sitting at this specific table.  Aberdeen would have to make sure that if he attended next year, he was nowhere near Brendan.

There was a traditional Indigenous land acknowledgement at the beginning – the rude man rolled his eyes, which made Aberdeen want to kill him right then and there – followed by a speech made by Brendan – the rude man was on his phone for half of it, not bothering to listen to Brendan’s words of inspiration and gratitude to everyone who donated for the cause.  When Brendan got back to the table, Christine Simpson came out, ushering in the grade three class onto the stage, the students all dressed up and walking in a straight line.  They waved at their parents who were at their own tables, jumping and jiggling excitedly as little kids did.  Aberdeen thought it was the cutest thing.  Christine interviewed some of the students, asking them about school, hockey, meeting the Leafs, and about the integrated classroom and nutrition program at their school – key parts of the MLSE Launchpad initiative.  The crowd was as enamoured with them as Aberdeen was.  A part of her wished it could just be the kids talking all night.  

When their interview was over, the kids waved goodbye to the crowd before the DJ began to play them off stage.  The opening notes of ‘Uptown Funk’ by Bruno Mars began playing, and the kids went crazy.  They stopped walking off stage.  They looked around to try to find where the music was coming from, but soon enough, a lot of the kids began to dance – shimmying from side to side, pumping their hands in the air, and twirling on one foot attempting pirouettes.  Christine was trying her best, but they weren’t moving.  

“Can someone get the kids off the stage so we can get a move on?” the rude man commented loudly, so loud Aberdeen could hear him above the music.  She was incensed by his comment, her blood boiling.  How dare he.  How dare he say something when this entire event was for charity – was for these kids on stage!  

So she took matters into her own hands.

She made a point to push her chair back as dramatically as possible, shaking the place settings on the table with the force of her hands.  Everybody at the table looked at her as she rose from her seat and began making her way towards the stage.  As she pulled the skirt of her dress up so she wouldn’t trip up the stairs, she made eye contact with one of the kids.  And instead of shuffling him towards the back, instead of helping Christine, who had hall but given up, she extended her arms and grabbed the little boy’s hands in hers and began dancing with him.  She was dancing on stage in front of over a thousand people with an eight year old.  And she wasn’t embarrassed one bit.  

As she danced, she watched as William began to make his way up to the stage from the opposite end, rushing up exactly like she had and extending his arms to begin dancing with another student, a girl, twirling her around.  Then she saw Bee McTavish, Morgan Rielly, and Jennifer and Jason Spezza, all at once, rush towards the stage too, laughing and dancing with the kids.  Before she knew it, the entire team was up there, as were their significant others, dancing with the kids and each other to Uptown Funk for the entire duration of the song.  Aryne and John, Saylor and Kasperi – they were all there.  As she danced, she made eye contact with William, who was already looking at her, a smile spread out on his face from ear to ear.  Jennifer gave her a double thumbs up.  Bee was laughing at Morgan’s horrible dancing, but the kid he was dancing with was absolutely loving it and mimicking every move.  

She barely noticed the crowd cheering and clapping along to the beat until the end of the song when there was a round of applause.  The kids finally got their cue and began heading offstage.  A few of them had to finish bowing before the audience, but once they were all gone, the team left the stage too, giant smiles on all their faces.  When Aberdeen returned to the table, she saw the rude man staring at her indignantly.  Meanwhile, Brendan was beaming.  

“Thank you for that,” he said as she took her seat beside him.  Even Catherine was smiling.  

“You’re not mad I did that?”

“Are you kidding?” he asked.  “That’s been the highlight of the night so far.  It’ll probably stay the highlight of the night.”

Aberdeen smiled.  “I had to do something to get that guy at the other end to shut up,” she whispered.

“Oh, I know, believe me.”

The night went on with its regularly scheduled events.  There was an interview portion with the big four European players – Andreas, Freddie, Will, and Kappy – in between the dinner courses.  There was a Q&A with Jason and Zach as well, and the highlight of the night, which was a game of Family Feud with the Leafs Legends – Darcy Tucker, Curtis Joseph, Daryl Sittler, Wendel Clark, and Doug Gilmour – and some of the current Leafs – John, Morgan, Auston, Mitch, and Tyson.  It was hilarious.  Aberdeen teared up at one point because she was laughing so hard.  

After dinner there was a lot of mingling – a lot of meeting new people and speaking about her position because everybody was just so interested about what Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant did all day – and a lot of…well, staring.  William caught her eye around the room.  Wherever he was, wherever she was, whoever he was speaking to, whoever she was speaking to, whenever she even so much as just glanced his way, he was already looking, and whenever he so much as glanced her way, she was already looking.  He was true to his word in that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, that as long as he got to stare at her all night he’d consider himself a lucky man, because all he seemed to be doing was staring at her.  And as the night progressed, he got closer and closer, eventually ending up in her circle, and although the guests were delighted to see William Nylander, she was nervous but excited to see Will, Willy, the guy that so obviously couldn’t keep himself away from her.  

When the guests left, they were left alone.  Aberdeen gulped.  William looked pained.  “I can’t take it anymore,” he said, only loud enough for her to hear, despite there being no-one around them.  Brendan was on the other side of the room.

“Can’t take what?”

“You.  In that dress,” he clarified.  “You have no idea how good you look.  Every time I look at you, I just…you—you know how I feel about you, minskatt.”

When that nickname escaped her lips, tied together with the look on his face and the sparkle in his eye, Aberdeen almost melted right then and there.  “Will—”

“Can we get out of here?”

“No, Will,” she giggled.  Any other moment in time she would have scolded him for making the suggestion, but at this point she didn’t care.  “I’m technically still working.”

“Then let me get you a drink,” he offered.  “And let me take you home.  Please let me take you home after everything is done.  I��m desperate here.”

“Desperate?” she decided to play with him.  “Why?”

“Because of you.  Because you walk in here looking like that and you expect me to control myself?  All I’ve wanted to do all night is be next to you.  All I’ve wanted to do is be with you, be anywhere near you.  And it’s torture.  Torture that I can’t talk to you the way I want to talk to you.  Torture that I can’t touch you like I want to touch you.”

A shiver ran up her spine.  “You’re getting into inappropriate territory again, Will.”

“And I’ll say it again: can’t you tell by now that I don’t care that it’s inappropriate?”

The last time he’d said that to her, she replied with “And can’t you see that I do care?”  But she didn’t care anymore.  She honestly didn’t.  After what happened on Christmas (besides the fact that she was still wearing the ring – she hadn’t taken it off since) and on New Year’s, she knew that they had both ventured on to the inappropriate territory equally.  It was no longer just his fault, or the fault of his persistence.  They were equally to blame here.  She downed the last of her drink.  “I like it.”

He had a confused look on his face.  “You like what?”

“I like that you’re being inappropriate.”

Aberdeen couldn’t describe the smile that took over his face upon him hearing those words.  They were six words that told him everything he needed to know.  “Aberdeen, you can’t just say stuff like that and expect me to react normally,” he said, throwing her own words that she’d said to him so many times back at her.

“Maybe I don’t want you to react normally.”

“Aberdeen!  William!”

They looked to their side to see Bee McTavish approaching them.  Aberdeen could tell William hated the interruption, but because it was Bee, he softened.  “We’re gonna do some shots.  Want some shots?”

The first shot was tequila.  The second was a B-52, and Brendan even joined in.  Aberdeen could feel herself getting more giggly with each millilitre of alcohol that went into her system.  Giggly about the event.  Giggly that she was taking shots with the Toronto Maple Leafs.  

Giggly about William.

***

“Just one stop at Nelson Street, please,” William said to the Uber driver as he slipped into the car after Aberdeen.  Brendan, Catherine, Kyle, and Shannon had left the party early, so they weren’t able to see William confirming with Aberdeen that he could take her home, and they weren’t able to see him calling an Uber, and him grabbing their coats, and him leading Aberdeen to the much quieter side of the Fairmont Royal York for the Uber to pick them up so he could touch her waist and hold her hand and get close to her – closer than what was necessary – on a cold winter’s night while the rest of the guest list waited at the front of the hotel for cabs and Ubers.  “I know it’s a short ride, but I’ll give you a big tip.”

He was holding Aberdeen’s hand.

“Do you still have all those songs I downloaded for you?” Aberdeen asked as the driver started moving.

William thought it to be a random question.  “Of course I do.  Why would I delete them?”

“I have a new song you need to add,” she said.

He smiled.  “I added a song I heard on the radio that made me think of you,” he began to pull out his phone.

“Which one?”

He searched for the playlist in his Spotify, the former ‘Driving in Toronto at Night’ playlist he’d renamed to ‘Minskatt’.  He scrolled down to the bottom of the list before he found it.  He turned the volume on his phone all the way up before the opening notes of ‘Adore You’ by Harry Styles began playing.  He’d heard it all over the radio since December, and not only did the beat and rhythm reminds him of the type of music Aberdeen liked and put on the playlist, but when he actually listened to the lyrics, he knew he had to add it.

Aberdeen’s jaw dropped and a smile overtook her face.  “This is it.”

“What’s it?”

“This was the song I was just going to add.”

William smiled.  “Does that mean I have superior music taste now?” he joked.

Aberdeen giggled.  “You’re working on it.”

She began to sing, and William had never heard anything sweeter.  She was louder than when she half-mumbled, half-sang ‘Style’ by Taylor Swift in the passenger’s seat of his car when they were driving on the Gardiner into the downtown core.  Perhaps the shots had gotten to her, but they were so long ago and he was unconvinced.  More than anything, he just hoped her walls had finally crumbled, that she felt like she could be uninhibited in front of him like he always wanted her to be.  No degree of formality of being a hockey player and a personal assistant for that hockey player’s boss – instead, being just two kids in their early 20s falling for each other like they had six months ago when she wouldn’t shut up about her graduation or her writing or her favourite books and he couldn’t stop listening to her.

William didn’t know the lyrics off by heart like she did, but he was able to contribute certain lines he remembered.  Certain lines that would hammer a message home.  

I get so lost inside your eyes Would you believe it?

He looked at her when he sang them out loud, and she looked at him when she sang them out too, albeit more emphatically and with more swaying and dramatic hand motions.  It was like they were admitting to each other what they were really thinking; what they couldn’t say to each other in the presence of other people, but what they could say to each other alone in hotel rooms in the middle of the night or in the backs of Ubers after parties.

Honey I’d walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do

Aberdeen bit her lip after they sang the chorus to each other.  She couldn’t believe they were doing this.  She couldn’t believe how quickly her walls had fallen.  She’d spent two months trying to forget him and four months trying to keep him at bay, only for the last three weeks to make all of that obsolete.  “Willy?” she asked, her voice sweet as the second verse began to play.

“Minskatt?” he prepared himself.

“I can’t believe you added Harry Styles on your own free will.”

William snorted.  This was why he was so enamoured with her.  “I can’t believe you think I wouldn’t.”

They arrived at her building, getting out of the car and slipping through the front doors, nodding politely at the concierge before walking to the elevator.  As they waited for it to come down, Aberdeen lay her head on William’s shoulder.  “My feet are fucking killing me,” she whispered.

“Are they?”

“They’re, like, pounding,” she said.  “They’re pretty to look at but fuck they hurt.”

Before she could realize what was happening, William had scooped her up in his arms, shifting to carry her bridal style as the elevator pinged to signal its arrival.  “What are you doing?” she laughed out.

“Being a knight in shining armour, clearly,” he smiled.  He felt Aberdeen wrap her arm around the back of his shoulders as he stepped into the elevator.  Aberdeen pressed her phone number.  “Better?”

“Much.”

“Why do you girls even wear shoes like that if they hurt so much?”

She snorted.  “You tell me.  Men wore heels first,” she informed him.

“We did?!”

She nodded.  “Apparently you guys wanted to show off your wealth and calves more than we did at first.”

William laughed in his signature way.  “I do have some nice calves.”

When the elevator brought them up to Aberdeen’s floor, she rummaged through her clutch to find her keys, sticking them in the door to open in.  Luckily, they could be as loud as they wanted since Kasha was spending the night at Evan’s; it prompted Aberdeen to hook her finger into the strap at the heel and throw off her shoes.  William kicked off his shoes and walked through her apartment, carrying her to her bedroom.  It was maybe a bold move, to go straight there, but he didn’t care.

“Wanna see me rip my eyelashes off?” she giggled as he finally set her down on the floor of her bedroom.  

“Your eyelashes?!”

“The fake ones,” she mumbled, just going for it.  She saw a horrified look on William’s face, causing her to burst out into a fit of giggles.  She threw the first one in the garbage before taking off the second, William still watching with a horrified look on his face.  “What?” she smiled.

“That doesn’t hurt?” he asked.

“You get used to it,” she shrugged.  “You know what they say Will.  Beauty is pain.”

“My beauty doesn’t require pain.”

Aberdeen burst out laughing, William following with his signature giggle.  She couldn’t control her laughing as she leaned her head against his chest, shaking it slightly before bringing it back up to look at him.  “You’re literally the worst, Will.  No other guy on the team would say something like that.”

“No other guy on the team is as beautiful as I am.”

His tone made it come out like a joke, but Aberdeen couldn’t help but thinking he was right.  There wasn’t another guy on the team as good-looking as he was.  She huffed out a laugh, turning around so her back was towards him.  “Can you unzip me?”

It was a suggestive request, and she knew it.  He unzipped her dress slowly as she pulled her hair out of the way for him.  They were both still giggling as she felt the material of the dress become looser, and she was careful when he was finished to step out of it gently so she didn’t mess up the fabric or dirty it on the floor of her bedroom.  She immediately brought it towards the hanger she’d left on her dresser, making sure to hang it in her closet neatly before turning back towards Will.  It was only then that she realized she was in her underwear in front of him, the most exposed she’d ever been since…well…

She watched as he practically ripped off his tie; watched as he unbuttoned his shirt without a care in the world.  His suit was probably custom made and tailored and cost over a thousand dollars but he didn’t even care.  What was more alarming was that he was stripping and making himself comfortable in her bedroom.  “Will—”

“You can change.  I’ll look away,” he said, turning her back towards her automatically.  

That wasn’t even what she wanted, but damnit, he was good.  She unclasped her bra and threw on her top quickly before stepping into her pajama shorts.  “Um, I have to go wash my makeup off,” she whispered.

She didn’t wait for a reply as she stepped across the hallway into her bathroom.  As she washed all of her makeup off, the seriousness of the situation crept up on her.  William was in her apartment.  He was in her bedroom.  He was undressing.  She knew he’d been in there before, that if he stayed over it wouldn’t even be the first time he’d slept in her bed, but it was still a big deal.  It was still something that, really, truly, shouldn’t be happening in every sense of the word.  But it was.  And neither of them was going to put a stop to it.    

When she stepped back into her room, closing her door behind her, she saw William waiting for her to get into bed.  He had nothing on besides his boxer-briefs.  She knew that if they both got in there, there’d be no room.  They’d be squished against each other.  She knew this because it had happened before – the night they hooked up, and then the night after what Ethan did to her – it was the same situation.  Standing now, in her room, looking between the bed and William, things felt…different.  

She climbed into bed, liking to be on the side closest to the wall, anyway.  William followed her, even going so far as to start to pull the covers over their bodies as he snuggled in next to her.  “Will—”

“Shhhhhh,” he cooed.  “Aberdeen, stop freaking out.”

“But Willy—”

“I just want to lie down.  We’re just lying down,” he said, his voice sleepy.  He pulled her against him.  She let him.  He nestled his head onto her chest, under her chin and above her breasts.  She let him.  She could feel the contented sigh he let out as he settled into her, as her body relaxed into his, as she began running her fingers through his beautiful blonde hair.  He let her.

“Will?” her voice was soft.

“Mhm?”

“You – I – you—”

“Spit it out, Aberdeen.”

“You could have any girl in the city, Willy,” she blurted out.  She immediately regretted it.  “Any girl in the city.  W…Why do you keep – I mean, why are you here with m—”

“Because I only like you, Aberdeen,” his voice was so soft, sleepy, tender.  The most tender she’d ever heard it.  “You still don’t understand?”  

Aberdeen hesitated.  “I guess not.”

“Well…I like you,” he stressed his sentiment again.

“But why?”

“Because you make me nervous.  And nobody makes me nervous,” he said softly.  “And because I like talking to you.  And I don’t like talking to anyone.”

There was nothing more she could say; nothing more she could do.  He always answered her question and always answered her honestly; he had never lied to her.  He had laid it all out for her and she could either take it or leave it.  

Of course she was going to take it.  

***

Aberdeen woke up slowly the next morning early.  Stupidly early, because of her natural alarm clock.  In typical fashion, because William was in bed with her and there wasn’t enough room for the both of them, Aberdeen found herself semi-on top of him, her head on his chest and hair spread out everywhere; an arm draped across his torso.  As she began to come to her senses, she took a deep breath and could smell him.  He still smelled so good.  So manly.  And then, she realized his one arm was hugging her body against his, and his other lay directly on top of hers that was draped across his body, keeping it there.

She sighed contently.  

He was so big, so snuggly, so warm.  Of all the people she’d snuggled up against in her short lifetime, William was easily the best.  His body was like her own personal heater, and in the dead of winter, it was much appreciated.  She’d always known he was big – big and thick and strong – but feeling him under her now was so much different.  She’d almost forgotten what he felt like, but she could never truly forget something like that.  

When she moved slightly, mostly to stretch, she realized one of his thighs was between her legs.  God, they were so fucking thick.  Thick and strong, just like the rest of him.  She moaned slightly, the feeling of their bare legs together really waking her up now.  Before she knew what she was doing, before her brain could tell her body not to physically react to such a specimen of a body being in such close proximity to her, she moved again, rubbing her core against his thigh.  It felt good.  Of course it felt good.  She had been denying herself the pleasure she knew William Nylander could give her for six months now (besides their kisses), and if she wasn’t dangerously close to breaking every known rule, parameter, and boundary she gave herself when she got the job, then she was now.  So close.  Dangerously close.

She rubbed her core against his thigh again.

And again.

And again.

He began to wake up, shifting slightly at the feeling of the friction of her against him.  He moaned at the feeling and rubbed his eyes before opening them, and when he did their eyes met, drowsy and barely open but still looking at one another.  “Minskatt?”

Aberdeen looked into his blue eyes.  She couldn’t hold back anymore; couldn’t deny it anymore.  

She was going to do it.

She pushed herself up slightly, coming face to face with him, and began kissing him.  No hesitation.  No uncertainty.  She knew she wanted to do it.  That she had to do it.  That kissing William was as important to her right now as breathing.  That kissing William continuously – not just one little peck, not just a standard kiss – was what she needed.  That feeling the scruff on his face along her fingers was integral to her well-being.  That grinding against his thigh again, causing him to moan in her mouth before she got on top of him and straddled him, was what she needed to survive.  

She felt his hands squeezing her thighs, trying to feel every inch of exposed skin on her body as they wandered underneath her pajama shorts, then underneath her shirt, where he took sweet time inching higher and higher towards her breasts.  He squeezed them in his hands gently, massaging them and pinching her nipples, causing her to squirm.  She knew she didn’t have an ample set to worth with, but William didn’t seem to mind.  He didn’t seem to mind because when Aberdeen grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, he looked at her exposed chest like it was the first pair of boobs he’d seen in his life.  

Aberdeen hesitated only slightly after she saw the look on his face.  “Willy?” she breathed out.

“Fuck, Aberdeen,” he whispered in some sort of apparently disbelief – a disbelief that this was actually happening.  That she was the one to kiss him.  That she was the one to take off her top.  It wasn’t even the first time he’d seen her exposed chest, but it still felt like the first time to him.

Before she knew it, he’d wrapped his arms around her and flipped her onto her back, hovering over her with his big, thick body as he kissed and licked his way down her neck and towards her breasts.  He took a nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue and making her arch her back.  She tried to catch her breath as she got used to feeling his mouth and tongue on her breasts.  He knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew exactly what to do to set her off, leaving her a writhing, moaning mess in her own bed.

Then she felt where his hand was.

She flinched at his touch on her hot core, but so desperately wanted more.  After that initial flinch, she practically grinded herself onto his hand.  “It’s so hot,” William mumbled before he kissed a trail to her other breast.  “So wet already.”

“Will—” Aberdeen could barely get out once she felt William’s tongue on her other breast.  “Will, please—”

“Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded her head as he teased her some more.  “Ta—Take them off.”

He did as he was told, his mouth leaving her breast so he could sit back slightly on his knees, hook his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, and pull them off slooooowly, revealing every inch of exposed skin on her body.  He could see her chest rising and falling dramatically as he let the shorts drop on the floor.  “You okay, minskatt?”

Aberdeen nodded her head.  She leaned forward so she could kiss him again, their hands exploring each other’s bodies – William’s hands gripping her thighs or breasts or teasing her hot core some more; Aberdeen’s hands gliding along the muscles on his abs and chest and shoulders before scratching down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs.  

She tugged on them.

“Aberdeen—”

“Condoms are in the same place,” she whispered quickly.

“Aberdeen, are you sure—”

“Yes.  Yes yes yes,” she repeated, nodding fervently.  

William opened the drawer on her bedside table, grabbing at a packet.  He ripped off the packaging and helped her push his boxers down before sitting back.  Aberdeen helped him slide it on, much like the first time.  When she lay back down, William moved to loom over her.  

William and Aberdeen looked each other in the eye as he guided himself near her entrance.  When Aberdeen could feel him, she let out a shaky, excited breath.  “Willy…”

“Yes, minskatt?”

“Go slow.”

William nodded.  He began to push himself into her, and as he did, he saw her eyes close to bask in the feeling of him filling her up.  He did the same, as it brought back all the memories from that fateful night six months ago, when they were in the exact same position as they were now.  He remembered everything so vividly, but somehow, this all felt brand new.  He remembered how good it felt, but simultaneously had never felt anything as amazing before.  

He went slow.

He could feel her nails dig into his shoulder blades and a small gasp of breath escape her as he bottomed out.  He kissed her lips and the tip of her nose and back to her lips.  “You okay?” he asked, his hair falling in between their faces.

Aberdeen nodded her head.  She bought one hand between them and pushed his hair back tenderly so she could see his face.  “Yeah,” she nodded.

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” she repeated, letting out another breath as she felt him pull out slightly before pushing back in.  “I’d almost forgotten how good you feel inside me.”

“You’re perfect, Aberdeen,” he responded immediately after.  He meant it in every sense of the word, because to him, she was.  Plus, if she thought he felt good, he has some news for her about what she felt like.  “God, you’re fucking perfect.”

He dipped down to kiss her again as he began moving in and out of her slowly.  Aberdeen moved her hips in tune with his, and soon, all she felt was pleasure.  Despite what was happening, they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, looks mixed with lust, love, desire, adoration, longing, and of course, the pining they’d been doing since that day they reunited in the elevator being exchanged between them.  It had all led to this moment, this moment of pure, built up passion.

“Willy…f…fuck,” she whispered.  “You feel so good, Willy.”

She watched as some of his hair feel in between them again, blocking his eyes.  She brought a hand to push it back tenderly.  They looked at each other for a moment before William said the words.  “I love you, Aberdeen.”

She looked for a lie in his eyes.  Any hint of a lie.  A lie she found in Zane’s eyes.  A lie she found in Corey’s eyes.  A lie she found in any other boy’s eyes that she’d known.  But she couldn’t find it.  Not even the smallest hint.  Nothing.  And because of that, and because of the moment, she said the words too.  “I love you, William.”

He kissed her, big and wet and sloppy and full of desire and want, and she kissed him back with equal amounts of desire and want, and when he began to move in and out of her quicker, and when she arched her back into his body, she knew was close, that they were both close, and that they wouldn’t last much longer.  

“Willy—”

“Aberdeen—Aberdeen I—”

“Cum with me Willy.  Cum with me.”

And they did.  It hit them all at once, the wave of pleasure as Aberdeen’s walls tightened around William’s pulsating cock, and they rode it out for as long as they could before William collapsed on top of her, the both of them catching their breath and coming back down to reality.  As they lay in her bed together, with William still inside her, the gravity of the situation didn’t need to hit them – they knew what they’d just done.  They knew it broke every boundary and was against every rule in the book.  But they didn’t care.  William didn’t care.  Aberdeen didn’t care.  All that mattered was that they shared that moment of pure bliss together.  

William rolled onto his back and took off the condom, tying it before throwing it in the garbage near her bed.  When he finished, he turned towards Aberdeen and they intertwined their limbs and bodies, drifting off to sleep again in each other’s arms.

***

The next time Aberdeen woke up, it was because she’d heard the front door slam shut and the sound of footsteps throughout the apartment.  It meant Kasha was home, which also meant it was later in the morning than when she and William had first woken up and…well…

She shuddered.

As she did, she felt William’s body beside hers in her bed, spooning her from behind.  Still naked from their rendezvous earlier, she could feel his cock against her as the hand of the arm that draped over her body cupped one of her breasts.  His face was nestled into the crook of her neck.  She didn’t want to move – she would have been perfectly content to stay in bed with him all day – but she knew they’d have to get up eventually.  And more than that, they’d have to put on clothes before they went out there.  

“Willy?” she whispered softly, hoping he’d hear.

“Hmmm minskatt?” he mumbled against her skin.  “Was that Kasha?” he asked.

“Yeah.  And probably Evan,” she said.  “We should get up.”

He peeled himself away from her body slowly, and she rolled from her side to her back so she could look up at him.  He looked down at her, still naked for him.  She smiled up at him and caressed his cheek, his stubble scratching her skin.  A piece of hair fell in front of his face, and she pushed it back, making it a habit now.  “Willy?”

“Minskatt?”

“Do you regret what happened?” she asked.

“Absolutely not.  No,” he replied automatically, shaking his head.  “Do you?”

“No,” she responded automatically as well.  “I don’t regret any of it at all,” she ran her thumb along his lips.  “But nobody can know.  We can’t tell a soul.”

William nodded his head.  In any other circumstance, if he had landed a girl as amazing as Aberdeen, he would be practically bragging to everybody about how lucky he was.  But things didn’t work out that way, and everything was complicated.  “Nobody will know,” he said in agreement.  

“No Brendan,” she began.

“That’s a given.”

“No Kappy,” she continued.

“No Kappy,” he agreed.  Kasperi didn’t even know about the first time they’d slept together, so it would be no problem.  None of the guys did.  They all thought he just had a harmless crush.  “No Kasha.”

Aberdeen bit her lip.  “No Kasha,” she nodded her head.  She knew she’d be able to make up a good story when they met each other outside her door.  She knew what she had to do next.  It would have to hurt them both.  “No Alex.”

William nodded slightly.  It would be hard not to tell his brother, but he knew he couldn’t.  It was probably one of the few secrets he would keep from Alex.  He knew he had to say the same.  “No Siena.”

Aberdeen nodded.  It would be the hardest thing she’d have to do.  “Our secret only,” she whispered.

“Our secret only,” he repeated, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.  “We can do it, minskatt.”

“I know we can,” she said, kissing him again.  It went against everything she believed in, but she didn’t care anymore.  She only had so much willpower to reject him.  Now that they’d done what they’d done, and agreed to what they agreed to, there was no going back.  She’d have to lie to the people she loved and respected most in her life.  She’d have to lie to everyone she knew – her parents, her sister, her friends, her co-workers.  

She’d have to lie to Brendan.  

They got out of bed slowly, with William putting his boxers back on and Aberdeen throwing on her pajama shorts again and a crew neck sweater.  She looked over at William and saw him searching for his dress shirt, crinkled on the floor.  She threw one of her oversized University of Toronto hoodies at him.  He laughed when he realized what it was, pulling it over his head.  It fit a bit snug, but it worked.

The second Aberdeen opened her bedroom door, she heard the shower from Kasha’s ensuite turn on.  She was happy – it gave her time to get breakfast started, to spend a little bit more of alone time with William, and to think of an excuse as to why William slept over last night.  Not like this was the first time he slept over in the past four weeks.

She still couldn’t believe what this had become.

After washing her face quickly, she and William made their way into the kitchen, Aberdeen grabbing some pancake mix out of the cupboard.  She grabbed some blueberries from the fridge too, putting them near the sink to wash them.  As she began to pour the pancake mix into a bowl, she felt William come up behind her, pressing himself against her back as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Aberdeen?” his voice was soft, and suddenly sounded very nervous.  

“Willy?”

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said.

She was confused.  “About not telling anybody?”

“No.  Earlier,” he gave her another hint.  When she didn’t respond, he knew he’d have to say it again.  “That I love you, minskatt.”

Oh.  That.  It was said so passionately during them having sex that it felt like it was part of the experience.  That it was completely natural and easy for them to say to each other, despite not officially being together, despite not even dating, despite Aberdeen trying to convince herself for months that she didn’t like him, despite William trying everything to make her realize otherwise.  

“I know it was in the heat of the moment,” his words interrupted her thoughts.  They sounded so nervous and apprehensive.  “But I meant it.  I mean…I know.  And I know that you said it back, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.  Or if you’re not sure or whatever.  I just want you to know that.  I won’t care.  You can say it whenever you want.  I just know that I do.”

Aberdeen turned around.  She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, now wearing one of her hoodies, and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him.  She said the only words she could say to him.  The only words that, despite every boundary, despite every rule, despite every thought, despite everything she knew about herself, despite everything she thought she knew about herself, she knew were true.  

“I love you too, William.”

[anothertimdrakestan]

Pick Me Choose Me Love Me Tim Drake x Reader

Words: 1.2k

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“Heya, can I request 1 and 4 with Tim? Thanks!” (1. pick me, choose me, love me & 4. make me)

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

Lemme tell you that this is some angsty shit right here. I went full cliche with this. Knowing my blog you should know it ends in fluff because we gotta stay true to character here but boyyyyyy I really wrecked myself writing this. Thank you for the AMAZING request I love combining 1 & 4 it wasn’t even on my radar, anon you are an evil, angsty, genius. I love you. xoxo!

Today was the day! Tim told you it was time you meet the most important girl in his life! You’d never thought about how you’d never met his mother, mostly seeing Mr. Wayne around the manor when you two hangout but you hoped that by meeting her today at the coffee shop you and Tim had always loved was a sign that he’d finally got his feelings in check and was going to ask you out. 

You’d spent the afternoon picking out a classy but cute outfit, tried 4 different hair styles and eventually just decided to put it up your favorite way and worry about what you would say to this very important woman. You gave yourself a pep talk on the walk there. The coffee shop was a special place for you and Tim, it was the start of your friendship, where you figured out he was Red Robin, and basically the keystone to your friendship. Meeting his mother there was perfect in your eyes. With a deep breath you opened the door, appreciating the familiar jingle of the door’s bells as you entered. Heart full, you rounded the corner to your booth and you heart stopped. 

There was Tim. He looked put together but casual, cute but sexy, and happy but not with you. His arm was around a girl your age, not a motherly figure unless all people makeout with their teenage mothers. Feeling your heart literally break inside of you seeing Tim smile the way you thought only you could make him while he winked at a trashy, obnoxious girl. Trying not to throw up you walked up to the booth, gaining Tim’s attention finally. He looked so excited to see you, “hey! Y/n like I said, may I introduce you to the lovely Sierra Sires!” you tried to force a smile realizing you were meeting another Gotham billionaire’s daughter. She looked the part too, covered in expensive jewelry and name brand, designer clothing she looked like everything you hated, and she was the one with Tim’s love. 

“Hello Sierra, nice to meet you.” hiding the grimace you sat down opposite the two. Tim ordered for all three of you, noting he knew her whole order; some skinny iced latte with vanilla free bullshit and some fancy nut milk you didn’t even know existed. Everything about her on Tim’s arm looked wrong. Partially because she was the physical embodiment of fake and mostly because you knew in your soul it should be you. To make matters worse, it was raining and you had planned on going to the manor with Tim after but you knew you couldn’t stomach that after meeting little miss plastic. 

Trying to politely engage in conversation you felt like Tim was a different person, he was talking business and flashing toothy grins with Sierra that was so different from the quiet, kind smiles he always shared with you. This was Tim’s real life? Clearly Tim’s standards for ‘most important girl in the world’ were low if a girl he’d been slobbering for three weeks was in the number one slot. 

The torture was over when Sierra had to go to some stupid interview, watching her get whisked off in a fancy car you turned back to Tim who looked at you expectantly. “So whatcha think of Cici?” you gagged at the pet name. “Actually Tim I’ve gotta go home, sorry.” you decided you needed to stop by the supermarket and get ice cream to cry into tonight, no room for Tim in those plans especially because he was the reason your heart was shattered. “What no! Y/n let go to the manor! You promised we’d hangout, and it’s raining and you didn’t bring an umbrella!” he wiggled an eyebrow knowing how you hated getting wet. 

“No Tim I’m going home.”  You got up, quickly leaving the cafe. Breaking into a jog you heard the same stupid jingle as footsteps neared you. “Y/n woah hold up- STOP” Tim never shouted at you. Something inside you stopped, whipping around to face him. “Well Tim here’s your damn answer. I hate her. Your dear Sierra, the most important girl in your life more like worst girl in your life. Me. Tim. I’ve been here for years, by your side through it all. Fuck I’ve loved you through it all. And she’s your person? Really?” At this point your angry tears were mixed with the rain you kept pushing out of your face. Tim looked shocked, his hair was matted to his forehead while the second best detective in the world had finally been stumped. “Y/n I- I thought you didn’t feel that way about me. I chose Sierra and I like her - but I think I like you too.” his eyes cast down, and you realized you needed to make everything clear. 

Your hand went to his cheek, pulling his face up to look you in the eyes. “I’m gonna say this once, you get one chance to make me yours. Here it is: your choice. It's simple, her or me, and I'm sure she is really great. But Tim, I love you. So pick me, choose me, love me. Timothy Drake Wayne I need you to pick me. Please.” his face looked blurry from the tears and pieces of your hair slicked against your face but you could see his eyes brimming with emotion. 

Tim looked in your eyes, moving pieces of hair behind your ear as he began, “Y/n it’s you, I love you. I’ve spent my life saving people’s lives but here  you are, the one saving mine. Y/n I choose you I choose the girl who’s my rock, my person, and the best thing to ever happen to me.” That was all it took before the two of you were crashing your lips together. Your hands ran through his wet hair, pulling his body closer to yours. It felt like fire was dancing across your skin while you kissed him. Breaking apart to breathe Tim clasped your hand in his, the two of you touching foreheads, closer than you’d ever been. “Good choice Timmy” you whispered breathlessly. With a smirk he replied “I thought you’d like that one, I am the world's greatest detective you know” you snorted “world’s most oblivious idiot maybe” “I’m your idiot now Y/N” you glanced up at him feeling your heart pick itself up as he flashed the same kind smile you knew would always be yours. 

Feeling him pull you with him towards your apartment as he mumbled “C’mon love I know you hate the rain” you agreed as the two of you walked hand in hand, the rain didn't feel so bad anymore with the love of your life finally secured. For once you felt at home, heart full as you had your other half next to you.

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Dragon Egg (Parts 4-6)

Long post because I neglected uploading for a few days. For @secrettunnelatla

It is all about fibs and careful twists. Change a few names and situations and suddenly Ozai is just a nameless man. A vague set of lyrics and verses on a page. A collection of words that shape the story of an abuser and his victim.

It is all the easier, picturing Zuko as the victim. Surely it can’t be her. Father treats her well; he has given her this recording studio. He has rewarded her for her three new singles with a newer car. He has given her nothing but praise for surprising him with so many new songs all at once.

Father buys her so many new stage outfits and lets her pierce her tongue and decorate it with genuine ruby. She has everything. He loves her. He is proud of her. It is only a hiccup, a lapse in judgment when he shows anything but affection. It is the alcohol that makes him smash the windows on her car. She doesn’t remember what he did it for but she knows that it was the alcohol because he has a brand new car waiting for her the next day.

And she drives it to Seicho’s house to deliver her birthday present. She will open the box and find a skateboard and tickets to see her show. Seicho is a delight and a somber presence all at once. In many ways, she reminds Azula of TyLee and that stings.

Sometimes she misses TyLee. Misses that sweet smile. Misses playing make believe in her backyard. Once upon a time, TyLee was going to be her drummer and they were going to tour from nation to nation in a bus with diamond studded tire caps. Once upon a time, she, Mai, and TyLee were going to be the rock trio that the world wouldn’t be able to forget.

And once upon a time, Mai decided that she liked Zuko more and TyLee decided that she liked Mai more. Zuko always had been the more lovable of the two. But Azula is the more successful. She has made a promise to herself that they would regret abandoning her for him when her faces is everywhere and Zuko is a sellout.

Seicho invites her inside, her friends are already there, a girl named Song, a girl named Jin, and a younger boy named Hide.

“Have a slice of cake or a whack at the pinata.” Seicho offers. She holds out a bat, wrapped with skull patterned duct tape and studded with nails. “You can have the first swing.”

Azula is sure that it would only take one good swing for the nails to shred the pinata. “I’ll have a slice of cake. I can’t stay for too long. I have a show.” There is a part of her, a very large part of her that wants more than a taste of this world. A simpler world where goals and aspirations aren’t make or break. “But I had to drop this off for you.”  The skateboard in the box is expensive, it is more than enough to make up for not being able to stick around for the party.

Seicho’s face falls and Azula tells herself that it is only because she hasn’t unwrapped the gift yet. She knows that the smile is forced when she replies, “thanks, Azula. Maybe you can join us next year.”

Regret doesn’t hit her in full until she has already stepped back into her car. By now it would only be rude to change her mind and ring the doorbell again. Maybe this is why it was so easy for TyLee to choose Mai and for Mai to choose Zuko; she tends to choose her career over companionship.

She promises herself that after Audio of Agni, she will make more time for social obligations.

.oOo.

The stage doesn’t quite have its thrill tonight. The energy itself is excitedly frantic, vibrant with enthusiasm but it doesn’t quite reach Azula. It doesn’t matter, she is good at pretending. She knows what she is supposed to feel like--she has felt it before when the band was brand new, when Mai and TyLee were her backup vocalists.

So she emulates the vibe she is supposed to give off. She pretends like the crowds cheers and shouts and claps mean everything. She pretends like their liveliness gives her life too. Pretends like she can feel the music in her body and soul the same way everyone else does. But she only feels empty.

Empty and alone. A disorienting feeling when she is looking upon more faces than she can count.

All the while she sings lyrics that make her stomach squirm and her heart ache. If her father knew that he is the inspiration behind them, she’d have another song to write.

She doesn’t understand why singing these songs hurts so much. She is singing about Zuko and her father, not about she and her father. Or maybe she isn’t singing about her father at all, but a nameless father and his nameless child. Hell, it can be a mother too. Just a vague musical rendition of a dreadful parent who is merely neglectful on a good day.

It dawns upon her that she is the victim that she sings of when she finds herself getting teary on that stage. They think that it is part of the act. They think that she is a stellar actress on top of a damn good lyricist.

She doesn’t correct them. The only thing that sells more than sex is sorrow.

Things change after that. There is more attention, more interviews, more magazine photoshoots, and more simmering resentment from From Ashes To Phoenix. She basks in the limelight and relishes in Zuko’s envy. And with the spotlight shining so brightly, she can no longer see the darkness that had helped put it on her.

****

Seeing her on TV is hell. Even when she isn’t right in front of him, flaunting her riches, talents, and everything he could have had, she is still able to mock him.

These days, he can’t escape her. She is everywhere; on the radio, on the magazines, on the TV, and on posters. He even sees her in the hallways of Caldera Capital High. He sees her there, though she has been pulled out months ago for a private education tailored to her personal schedule. It is just one more thing for him to envy. He has to manage his band and school, of course his progress is slower. Sometimes stunted altogether.

And for his troubles he averages C’s and D’s--B’s if he is lucky--and music that is half done and not nearly what he had imagined in his mind. He knows that he is going to have to make a choice and he thinks that he has begun to make that choice a few months back. He has lost track of how many times he has stayed after class to discuss his grades. He wonders how uncle will take to him dropping out. Should he turn in the forms that are tucked away in his backpack and seal the deal there won’t be any turning back. He will have to make it big. It will be his only chance.

A gaggle of fangirls fawning over the brooding lonewolf with the choker and black nailpolish can only take him so far. It doesn’t leave the hallways. But he does, he evades the teachers and hall monitors and climbs his way onto the roof. Mai is already there, he can see the smoke trail.

“Want one?” She offers.

“I’ll take a drag from yours.”

Mai passes the cigarette. “Have you told your uncle yet?”

He takes his drag and passes it back. “No.”

Mai gives a little hum. “Make a decision and commit, Zuko. Either you tell your uncle that you’re dropping out or start hustling to fix your grades. You have to succeed somewhere.”

He flinches. She sounds all too similar to Azula. She sighs. “Sorry. I just worry about you, Zuko. Indecisiveness is going to ruin you if you let it.”

There are a lot of things that are going to ruin him if he lets them. To some degree he thinks that he is already ruined. That he should just fester in the failure. “I could use another drag.”

“Sure.” Mai replies.

He takes his drag and watches the smoke curl up to the mid-afternoon sky. Mai leans back with her hands behind her head.

“What are you doing up here, Mai?” He asks. “You can actually pass your classes, why are you letting me drag you down?”

“Zuko, I’ve never felt more...up. Sometimes I just need to get out of there.” She spares a glance to the door. “It’s suffocating and smells like cheap perfume and testosterone. I smoke at least a cigarette a day, gym class is pointless anyways.”

He chuckles. He feels right when he is on the roof with her. When he is with her in general. Pessimistic as she nihilistic as she is, he feels the most hopeful when he is with her. Even if it is just for a moment, Azula’s shadow doesn’t envelop and shroud him. Even if it is just for a moment, he can forget about she and her antics and everything her overachieving has helped steal from him. Even if it is just for a moment he can see, truly envision and believe in a reality where he strums his guitar before an arena full of adoring, audio hungry fans.

He makes a decision, he is going tell uncle that high school isn’t for him. That he is meant for...that he deserves better things. As the sun reaches its zenith, he decides that he will truly work for his dream.

****

The darkness floods right back in when she is away from the stage. When the lyrics that echo through the venue become a reality. She doesn’t know exactly what she has done. Maybe she has done nothing at all. He very well may just be in a bad mood. She is texting Seicho when he enters. “Hello father.” She greets with a smile.

He returns it with a blank face and folded arms. “What is this?” He slaps a piece of paper onto the table. He nods for her to read it over.

“It’s a…” she knits her brows, “a printout of our ticket sales.” She looks up from the paper. “What’s wrong with it?”

“How many tickets were sold for the first show?”

“It was sold out.”

“What about all of last week’s shows and the week before that?”

“Sold out.” She says again.

He nods. “Yes, sold out. What about last night’s show?”

Azula swallows, “1,684.”

He drums his fingers on the table. “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

She thinks that it could be a lot of things; that night had also been the night of the high school homecoming baseball game, people might have been short on cash, the time slot had been a tad earlier than usual. All of these answers seem like excuses--she should have a performance more compelling than baseball, she should have had a performance with spending money on, she should have pushed for a more favorable time slot. “It was a smaller venue.” She says at last much.

Wrong answer.

“I was selling out all of my shows.” He slaps the page and she flinches. “These aren’t metal legend numbers, they aren’t even Audio of Agni numbers.”

She wants to point out that he probably hadn’t been selling out all of his shows when his band had been as young as hers is. Instead she very quietly promises, “I’ll do better, father.” She must and she will because he is right. Only 1,684 tickets sold in a venue that could hold 2,000 people? That is embarrassing.

“Maybe if you weren’t fooling around with that tattoo artist… you won’t be seeing her anymore”

“Wh-what?” She sputters. “No, that’s not it! Seicho isn’t a distraction!” She realizes too late that she has gotten too loud.

She closes her eyes and tenses for the strike that is sure to come. When it doesn’t she cracks an eyelid. He hasn’t even closed the distance between them. She allows herself to relax. It is only then that his hand snakes out and finds her cheek.

Reflexively her own hand comes to rub it. She bites the sides of her cheeks and swallows down the cry that is waiting to come up. More than anything she hates knowing that she has failed him. That she has disappointed him. These moments are few and far between, she makes sure of that. But they are still there and she has just given herself one more ill mark. Has put herself one step closer to ending up like Zuko. “I’ll do better.” She says again when she finds the words.

It was never like this before. She glares at the empty bottles. It was never like this--he used to love her. She used to be is gleaming little star. He would yell at her, sometimes until his face went red, but he has never hit her before. She looks at the bottles, but it might be that she has finally made enough mistakes for him to see her as a splendid failure instead of his rising rockstar.

She takes out her phone and taps the screen a few times before holding it up, “see no more distractions. I deleted her number.” She forces a smile. “I needed to focus on memorizing my new material anyways.”

At last he returns the smile. The tightness in her chest slackens, giving way to an optimistic and relieved fluttering in her tummy. He ruffles her hair, “that’s my girl.” He gives her a small hug. “I should know better than to doubt you.” He smells so strongly of booze.

But she has satisfied him. She is still is gleaming little star.

[mywonuderful]

Not So Cold-Hearted Pt.5

Summary: Y/N, a member of a popular newly debut girl group and Wonwoo has what some may call a relationship with emotional ambivalent. Will their relationship remain cold-blooded or will they finally come to an agreement and become something more?

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It’s been a while since the gathering with Seventeen and your group. The boy band was busy doing interviews, performances and variety shows as your group has done the same. As your activities slowed along with your promotions, your members started working in their own activities. Some got offered roles for dramas, MC for shows, and guests on variety shows. You being one of the international members had it harder then others when it comes to solo activities. But for you, you took this time as an opportunity to heal and recover from the hectic schedule in the fast few weeks.

“I’m heading out today as an guest appearance today!” One of your members said as she left the dorm. One by one, everyone left to do either spend time with their friends, or focus on their individual work. You were still peacefully snoozing without needing to be awaken by an alarm. As your body finished charging itself, your eyes slowly flutter open, waiting for your eyesight to clear up. You stretched out your arms as you let out groans. Sitting up, you looked around to see if your roommate was around but was no where to be seen. Silence fills your dorm as you wonder on why it was so quiet. Picking up your glasses and phone, you realized that everyone left for their tasks. A smile creeps on your face as you finally had the place to yourself, and no one to bother you. Jumping off the bed, you entered the bathroom to clean up and change.

After finishing your breakfast, you sat on the dinning table, sipping on the drink you made yourself as the warmness spreads throughout your body. Your eyes wondered around the dorm where clothes were carelessly thrown and garbage was everywhere as you asked yourself how you got through this mess without even realizing. Setting down the cup, you tied up your hair before playing some music and cleaned up the mess.

***

“So, fans are curious about your ideal type. Could you tell us about what you find in a woman?” The MC says as she reads from her cue cards. Anticipation from fans rises and the members took turns telling their ideal type. “My ideal type is someone who suits me well.” Wonwoo smiles into the camera as his members and the host shake their heads in dissatisfaction. “C’mon, we all want someone who suits us. Tell us more!” she encourages, making Wonwoo stumbling on his words. “U-Uh... Someone who is hard working, gentle yet fun...?” He slowly says as awkwardness spreads before the host breaks in and praises his answer.

“Hard working, gentle yet fun? I thought you liked someone who is sophisticated and self-reserved?” Vernon asks as everyone gathered around in the waiting room, changing back into their usual clothing. “I do.” Wonwoo plainly said as he slipped on his jacket. “He’s quiet mysterious when it comes to things like these, no?” Jun joins in, poking Wonwoo as he shrugs his shoulder, walking out the door to the van.

***

“You’re my world baby 끝없는 여행 너의 끌림에” you sang as you folded the laundry. The smell of lavender and honey covers the room as you danced a little to the beat. You cherished days like this where you had no time slot of events to follow. The days where you can feel ordinary and human and where you can step away from living the idol life. Your phone started ringing with incoming messages.

An idea pops in your head as you quickly put away the cloths and towels. Stepping back into the living room, you let out a long satisfied sigh as you took a look at the dorm that was now clean. Brushing your hands, you headed towards the kitchen where you started gathering ingredients to make the strawberry cake. Before you got started, you decided to play some uplifting music. Connecting your phone to the speaker, you played ‘Chocolate’ by Seventeen (this song is my go-to). Humming along, you began baking as time passes in a blink of an eye.

“And.... There.” you smiled as you added the last strawberry on top of the cake. A felt your mouth curve into a smile as you stepped back and look at the cakes. You ended up making 2 cakes because of the ingredients that was about to go bad; not that having two cakes was a problem. You took out your camera and set the table near the window to take some pictures. The sun was just starting to go down but none of the members has yet to come back from their outings. You placed one of the cakes back in the fridge as you thought about that to do with the other one. The thought of your college boy band appears and you started packing the cake and got dressed to visit their dorm. Since you were only planning on dropping off the cakes, you dressed comfortably. Wearing your jacket and putting on your shoes, you carefully held the cake as you left your dorm. Admiring the sunlight as it shines down on your face, you can’t help be to walk slower from such wonderful sight. Greeting some neighbors, you walked up the steps of the boy band’s dorm. You knocked on the door but there was not answer.

‘Maybe they’re busy’ You thought as you tried knocking again and a couple more times. Looking around where to leave the cake on their doorstep, you decided to knock once more before hearing rapid footsteps coming down the staircase inside.

“I was just about to leave the cake on the door-” “What do you want?” your eyes traveled up from the ground to meet Wonwoo eyes. It looked as if he just woke up. You felt your cheeks flush as it was seeing him like this. “S-Sorry... I just made some cake and I wanted to give it to you guys...” You mumbled, waiting for him to give you his usual cold shoulder. “...Oh....Thanks” He rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided your shocked eyes. You’ve never heard Wonwoo say ‘thanks’ to you before since knowing each other. “...Do you want to... uh, come in? It’s a little messy though.” He quietly suggested. You stared at him blankly. “So you coming in or not? I’m getting cold.” he was back to his usual self once again. You slowly nodded you head before he opened the door for you to go in. “All the members are out with their own schedules.” He took the cake and brought it to the kitchen as you followed. “Don’t you have any schedules?” you asked out of curiosity.

“It so happened that I have nothing planned today. Otherwise I’ll just be as busy as them.” he commented. You made your way to the living room where you took a seat in front of the coffee table. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked as he walked out with a cup of coffee in his hand. Coffee please.” you smiled as he stopped his steps, staring at you. “Water is what you’ll get.” He plainly said as he placed his cup and and made his way back into the kitchen. You cursed under you breathe before standing up. “I’ll just make my own coffee.” You walked passed him and started using the coffee machine. Glancing back to see if he was watching over you, he was sitting in the living room watching a sport game. 

‘How dare him. Offering me a drink yet in the end, he chooses what he wants.’ you tried to remain calm as you walked back out from the kitchen, passing the cake which you made on the dinning table. You wanted to ask Wonwoo if he’ll try a slice but you decided not to to prevent any bickering. Walking back out, you slowly set you cup down as you took a set on the floor cushion in the opposite side of him. Silence feels the room as the both you watched the game. “So what did you do today?” You build up the confident to try starting a conversation. “Sleep.” he took a slip from him cup.

‘Why did I even decide to walk into his dorm the first place...’ You bit your lip from scolding yourself to not know about his short responses.

<< prev // next >>

[jaehyeonsgf]

Hey babe, I love your scenarios they’re amazing, I come to your blog to see if you’ve posted. Can I request a scenario with Jaehyun 17, 12 and 24.

12 : “whatever you have to say about me, say it to my face”

17 : “its like you’ve made it your sole mission to annoy me”

24 : “don’t underestimate me”

a/n : highkey wanted to write another fratboy!jaehyun, but I opted for idol!jaehyun and photographer!reader. hope you enjoy and thanks for your support :> it means a lot to me

warning : smut

[ view prompt list here ]

-

Landing a placement in SM Entertainment as a photographer meant that you’d have a stable income for the next few months, but it also meant that you find yourself in the company of a certain arrogant ass more often than you’d like.

Jaehyun is the hottest model currently and is making leaps and bounds in the k-modelling world, famously walking in the New York Fashion Week show, and he knows it. He knows that he is a big deal and he’s aware of how a single smile leaves a flutter of girls at his feet – that explains his bigger-than-his-wardrobe ego.

You wonder what would the public think of him if they saw what actually goes on behind the scene. They say that you should never meet your celebrities. That if you do, you’ll realise that they are nothing more than rich snobby kids, put together by absurdly expensive clothes, and that their personalities are nothing more than printed words, editing and a façade. You think that that is an accurate depiction of the contrast between the man you see in giant posters or interviews on The Late Late Show and the man that stands in front of your camera.    

You come to the conclusion that before any fragments of Jaehyun’s true self reaches the masses, his management will be willing to drop large sums of money just to keep it all under wraps.

The fact doesn’t disappoint you that much, you’ve already gotten used to the reality. It simply means that you’ll have to suffer under his reign silently for the foreseeable future, or at least the end of your contract with his management.

It doesn’t stop you from bickering with him when he acts up though.

“B-but I thought you said these were okay to use!”

“That was a week ago but right now, I don’t think that they don’t look good enough,” Jaehyun calmly answers, his eyes never leaving his phone screen. He continues to swipe through his Instagram feed and it does more to further annoy you.

You roll your eyes. You had pulled two all-nighters, editing photos from a Harper’s Bazaar Korea photoshoot, only to have it been rejected by him.

“Don’t you know how long I’ve worked-“

“You say that as if my job is that easy,” he quickly shuts you up.

You acknowledge that it’s not easy to stand in front of a camera and look as good as he does. There’s a reason that you chose a life behind the camera instead of in front of it. It doesn’t stop you from showing every trace of annoyance you have on your face.

His eyes glance up at you in the mirror and at the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips, the corner of his lips raises into a smug look. He takes your silence as answer.

“Great. So I don’t see any problems with you choosing another set of photos and have them done by… Wednesday,” he arches a sculpted eyebrow up.

You open your mouth to argue that two days aren’t enough. His eyebrow arches further up.

You sigh and brace yourself for another sleepless night.

The next time you see Jaehyun, it’s at another photoshoot and you have half a mind to commit a felony right there and then. It doesn’t help that his stylists had all rushed down to MNET to help out a group of newly debuted group, leaving you all alone with him in a luxurious hotel room.

You wonder where did the professional model go because for whatever reason, Jaehyun is simply not delivering enough. Usually a few prompts are enough to get the shots of Jaehyun you needed – thanks to how his expression, gaze and posture all coming together in the perfect union. It’s one of the few perks of working with Jaehyun, shoots are usually shorter and easier to coordinate.

But not today.

Today, he’s no where near half his usual capability. Today, his concentration is fixated on something else, rather than his job. Today, you predict, will be the day he finally pushes you off the edge.

“Soften your gaze,” you demanded through clenched teeth for the third time in a row.

The gaze he gives you is instead one of frustration.

“Y-you know what, let’s just take a break,” he breathes out, lifting a hand to run it through his hair, only to stop midway when he realises that his stylists aren’t around to help him position each strand in its perfect position. His hand forms a tight fist as he lowers it.

You frown. The both of you only have the room for the next two hours and the fact that you haven’t exactly taken pictures – well, at least not pictures that can be published – bothers you.

“We can’t stop just ‘cause you aren’t feeling it, Mr. Hotshot,” you say.

“It’s not like we’re getting any work done anyways,” he throws you a pointed look, as if to toss the blame on you. And, as if his point isn’t clear enough, he chooses to add in, “Don’t underestimate me. The only reason I’ve gotten here today is because I’ve never taken a single day off.”

Your eyes widen in the rage. Who does Jung Jaehyun think he is? Who does he think he is to cast the blame on to you, when it’s clearly his fault? It annoys you to no end that he actually thinks that you’re the one screwing it up.

Yet you choose not to retaliate. At least you try not to. You breathe and set your camera down on the nightstand, trying desperately to stay calm. Your best friend had shared with you a breathing technique that was supposed to work wonders to calm yourself down and you try it. You recall the instructions and breathe in, holding it for a moment, then letting it go.

Still, it doesn’t stop you from mumbling under your breath, “It’s as if you’ve made it your sole mission to annoy me. It’s not even my fault.”

You hadn’t mean for Jaehyun to hear it, but he does. And it flips a switch within him and in one deft movement, he has you back against the soft white bed and pinned under him.

“Whatever you have to say about me, say it to my face,” he almost growls out.

Getting what he wants isn’t a matter of privilege, rather it was a given. More of a right than a blessing. His status meant that everywhere he went, there’ll be crowds of people following him around, taking pictures of him as he goes through his day. His popularity doesn’t end with the masses. Modelling agencies from all over the world are pining for him to sign contracts with them. So, it comes as no surprise when people start doing things just to please him, just to gain his favour.

Still, he can’t deny the surge of satisfaction he gets when he manages to force his way through life. And he feels it, looking down on your blushing face and eyes fixated at the window beside the bed, rather than him.

It is then that you make the mistake of tearing your eyes away from the window. Because when your eyes meet his, something dangerous transpires.

You gulp visibly and remind yourself. He is… a client.

It doesn’t stop you from kissing him back when he places his lips against yours. You sigh against his lips and relaxes your body. The kiss starts out slow but then it isn’t. It becomes clashing teeth and rough tongues that speaks of desperation.

He is a client but God, if you aren’t excited for what’s in store. It’s been awhile since you’ve last were intimate with anyone. That isn’t to say that you didn’t have your chances, the chances were there but you just refused them. Your mind was simply too preoccupied with Jung Jaehyun and his lists of unreasonable demands to do anything else – sex included.

You bend one knee up, slotting it between his legs, feeling the growing erection. You’re rewarded with a lustful moan. It sends shivers down your spine but you refuse to acknowledge just how angelic it sounds next to your ears. Instead, you lift one arm up, snaking it behind Jaehyun’s neck and up into his hair. They aren’t smooth or soft because of the amount of hair product in them, but it doesn’t stop you from tugging on it. Your other hand quickly undoes his button up shirt.

His hands don’t leave you alone either. He steadies himself using one hand to grip on the headboard, as the other slips under your shirt. His warm touch is enough for you to elicit a hiss into the kiss. His hand is everywhere, from your waist, to your hips and rests against your ribcage, caressing your skin.

“Your clothes,” he says when he pulls away from you.

The both of you are breathless and you just know that your lips are swollen red. You push him upwards, so that he is sitting on his knees and you’re sitting upright. It takes only a brief moment before you’ve gotten rid of your top and your pants, leaving you in a mismatched black laced bra and a white silk panty. He takes the opportunity to work on his own pants, quickly pulling it off so that he’s in his boxer briefs.

Within moments, both your bodies are again pressed up against each other. His lips wander across your jawline and works down your neck.

“Wait- Oh god…” You exhale shakily and turns your head one way to give him access to your neck. “Don’t-I’m!” you try to warn him about how sensitive you are along your neck but Jaehyun gets there first with his soft lips.

Your soft mewls encourage his smug smirk and he decides to treat you by generously littering patches of red and purple down your neck and on to your chest. You know that they’ll bruise tomorrow but you don’t care enough to stop him.

Then his body leaves yours again and, this time, you let a whine out.

“Hold on, baby doll,” he comforts, using the side of his index finger to lift your chin up so that you’re looking at him.

He uses his index finger to split apart your lips and in an act of seduction, you lick his finger. The act catches him off-guards but he lets you have his hand. You take his index and middle fingers into your mouth, slightly hollowing your cheeks as you suck on them, playing with them using your tongue.

There’s something at the sight of you with saliva dripping down your chin and mouth full of his fingers that turns Jaehyun on even more. So, he removes his fingers and, instead, pulls down his boxer briefs, letting his fully erect length spring free. You let out a shaky breathe when you see his size. He aligns it to your swollen lips.

“Suck on this instead.”

You get on your knees and obediently swallows him into your mouth. You feel his length hit the back of your throat and a single tear rolls out your eye. You steady yourself, one hand on his hips before bobbing up and down, letting him complete destroy the back of your throat. He doesn’t try to control his moans and it’s soon that your name is bouncing off the walls, punctuated with the occasional hisses.

It made you feel good that the Jung Jaehyun is at your mercy. This lasts for a mere moment because without warning, his hand is gripping a fistful of your hair, shoving his dick down your throat making you gag from the unexpected move. Your voice is muffled by his cock and he doesn’t notice how badly he is wrecking your throat.

Your salvation comes the moment he pulls out and orders you to get on your hands and feet. You obey, sticking your ass high up in the air. This is the moment that you’ve been waiting for.

“You’re so wet for me baby doll,” he breathes against your warm core as he pulls your panty off of you.

A whine leaves your lips because you know the exact smug expression he has on. “H-hurry up.”

“Impatient,” he comments but is quick to reach over to, what you think is, his wallet.

But your hand flies out, stopping him. You’re already dripping in desperation and the longer you waited, the more it felt like torture. “Don’t… I’m on the pill.”

The way lust rolls off your tongue is enough to stop Jaehyun and his grin widens upon hearing the fact. It takes him less than a second before he slides himself in you and it makes a sinful sound.

It’s been a while and you’ve totally forgotten how amazing it is to feel completely filled. You sigh in pleasure. Jaehyun makes an equally loud moan, fingers lightly digging into your hips. The pleasure of your walls clenching so goddamn tightly around him is enough to overwhelm him and he almost comes, but controls himself. He steadies himself, letting you adjust to his length. It’s only when you desperately started grinding down on him that he starts thrusting into you.

He reaches forward and pulls your head back by your hair and his other hand reaches forward and grips tightly around your throat. He wastes no time and starts moving his hips, with each thrust comes quicker than the next.

In a blur of strained moans, desperate whimpers and gasps, Jaehyun keeps up with the brutal pace and nothing stops him. Not even as you came undone under him, shaking and shivering, yelling at him to stop, only for the moans and whimpers to completely fill your throat. Quickly after your first orgasm, the overstimulation builds up your second orgasm and this time, the knot is wound tighter. It only when you feel him coming into you that it snaps, bringing you into your second orgasm. Even then he doesn’t stop, until his creamy white cum seeps out of your drenched pussy.

He pulls himself out of you, taking a moment to take it just how absolutely ravaged you look. Hair in a mess, eyes glossy with tears, cheeks and chest flushed, your lips are slightly parted and there’s saliva leaking out of it, and the way his cum overflows out of you. It almost enough to get him in the mood for round two.

But it’s been a while for him too and he’s tired. So, instead he collapses beside you. You’re panting and take a moment to catch your breath.

But the camera by the nightstand is a reminder to yourself, the purpose of your visit to the hotel. And you pick it up, carelessly snapping away photos of Jaehyun, with his hair in a mess and his shirt unbuttoned. He lets you.

And when those photos finally come out, a month later, it surprises you that the public enjoyed the look almost as much as you do. So much so that his stylists don’t question why his hairstyle is different and why his lipstick has turned much redder.

Jaehyun invites you over to his house that night to celebrate its success – this time you make sure that your lingerie matches.

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons - Part 7

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Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons x Reader Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Six months with Alfie and life couldn’t be better. Alfie goes on a trip and sees an old friend, you get to know Hannah a bit more. Warnings: swearing, drinking A/N: Finally finished this chapter, sorry it took a while! Big thanks to @acciostilinski for helping me finish once scene in particular and as always just being an all round great friend! Hope you enjoy, please leave a comment to let me know what you thought.

Six months with Alfie and everything in your life feels calm, settled.

Your time is split between your own flat and Alfie’s, time spent with him equally exciting and comfortable as you find him slotting into your life perfectly. Everything feels brighter with Alfie around, someone to share the good and bad with. He makes you feel safe and brings a newfound sense of balance to your life.

Though with the amount of time you’ve spent with Alfie, integrating into his life and in with those who are close to him you make sure you still spend time at home with Nancy, careful not to begin to neglect her or your other friends now you’re in a relationship.

“Fucking Birmingham,” Alfie grumbles. “Why do I have to go to fucking Birmingham?” 

The two of you sit in a coffee shop near the distillery, two laptops squeezed onto the small table between you. You decided to work outside the office today, and Alfie was happy to meet you here to keep you company while you work on your latest article, being his own boss coming in handy as he sits with you for hours at a coffee shop instead of in his office.

“What is it?” 

Alfie turns his laptop to face you, the page open on an email invitation that you quickly scan the details of. An invitation to an event for the owners of a select group of alcohol distilleries in the country from the CEO of a bar chain based in Birmingham.

“Alfie! This is good! Why are you complaining?” 

“Because it’s in Birmingham, I hate Birmingham,” he mutters, turning the laptop back to him, as he rubs a hand through his beard.

“Please tell me you’re not going to turn it down because you hate Birmingham, are you?” 

“Nah, I’ve got a mate who was invited too. Haven’t seen him in a while so I’ll catch up with him while I’m there. Meeting’s in the late afternoon so I might as well stay the night,” he decides, though he looks even more disappointed by the idea of spending the night in a city he hates.

“What about Cyril? Who’ll look after him?” 

“Normally I’d ask Ollie or Hannah,” he says, a hopefully hint to his voice as he looks at you over his laptop.

“But?” 

“But I thought I’d ask you this time. You can spend the night at my place, I’ll get up early and drive back in the morning,” he suggests. 

You snort at the idea, biting your lip to hold back the laugh as Alfie frowns at you. 

“What?”

“You get up early? I’d like to see that happen,” you tell him as Alfie puffs up to defend himself.

“I get up early all the time!”

“Maybe so but you don’t fucking shut up about it,” you point out, Alfie scowling at the insinuation.

You grin, reaching out to pinch his cheek and laughing when he playfully slaps your hand away.

“Aw it’s okay Alfie, you know I like my big grump,” you tease, earning a roll of his eyes.

He grumbles something under his breath as he lifts his coffee mug to his lips, his complaint cut off as he takes a sip, his free hand reaching out across the table to take a hold of your own.

“So, will you look after Cyril or not?” he asks.

“Of course I will, if it means I get to sleep in your bed without having to deal with you hogging the blankets then I’m in,” you say with a smug grin that makes him lean over and kiss you.

Alfie shakes his head, the faint fond smile on his lips telling you he’s as enamoured by your little quirks as you are by his.

                        ��                          ---------------------

Following the meeting, Alfie drove all the way to Birmingham for, Alfie makes his way into the pub Tommy had told him to meet him in spotting his old friend sitting at the bar already a drink in hand.

“Thomas,” Alfie says in greeting as he sinks into the stool next to Tommy, hand reaching out to shake the other man’s hand.

“Alfie, it’s been a while,” he says, sipping his whiskey. 

“Yeah well you don’t get to London as much these days,” Alfie says.

He catches the bartender's attention, a woman who eyes up Tommy when she comes over to take his order her eyes only leaving his friend to make Alfie’s drink.

“You could always come here,” Tommy suggests, causing Alfie to snort.

“Mate, the only reason I’m in this shit city is cause of that fucking meeting, couldn’t get me here any other way,” he comments, Tommy giving him a hint of a smile behind his glass.

Alfie’s phone buzzes and he glances quickly at the screen before clearing the notification, shoving the phone back in his pocket but not before Tommy gets a glance at the photo of Alfie and y/n on his lock screen. Tommy doesn’t say a word, his eyebrows going up as he holds back a smile. 

“So, how’s the family then?” Alfie asks.

“Arthur got married,” Tommy says, and Alfie smirks.

“And I wasn’t invited? What’s she like?”

“She’s good for Arthur,” is all Tommy says, the comments he could make about his brother’s new wife unsavoury at best.

It’s then that Alfie’s phone buzzes once again, and with a second glance at his lock screen Tommy can’t keep his comments to himself any longer.

“Who’s that then aye?” Tommy says, inclining his head towards Alfie’s phone. “Got yourself a girlfriend, have you?” 

“Yeah mate, I have. She’s fucking brilliant she is,” Alfie says, rolling his eyes at the smirk that crosses his friend’s lips. 

“You’re going soft Solomons.” 

“Fuck off,” Alfie says, but he can’t keep the grin off his face at the mere mention of y/n. “She wrote that piece on me for The City Scoop.”

“I wondered why that interview was so flattering, fucked your interviewer did you?”

“Took her out to dinner first mate,” he says with a grin, making Tommy shake his head. “I’m telling you, it’s fucking nice having someone around who wil-“

“Suck your cock?”

“She is good at that mate. Nah I’m telling you, it’s nice having a woman around to keep me company,” he says, and Tommy rolls his eyes.

“Fuck, you have gone soft,” Tommy mutters, shaking his head.

“Maybe so. It ain’t that bad though. Maybe it’s time you find yourself a girl, might be good for you.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, downing the rest of his drink to avoid replying which only causes Alfie’s grin to spread wider his face lighting up.  

“Or do you already have a girl Thomas?”

“I’ve been talking with a woman yes,” he offers, though doesn’t elaborate as he orders another drink.

“Talking aye? And where did you meet her?”

“Tinder,” Tommy mutters, fingers itching to reach into his pocket for a cigarette the no-smoking laws the only thing stopping him.

Alfie scoffs, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his beard while Tommy glares at him.

“What?”

“Fucking tinder? Can’t meet a girl the old-fashioned way, aye?”

Tommy clenches his jaw at the insinuation, choosing not to rise to the comment as his hand reaches into his pocket, fingers brushing against his cigarette case.

“Like having a magazine send a journalist to your work? That old way you mean?” He runs the cigarette along his bottom lip and glares at the bartender who moves to tell him that he can’t smoke indoors, piercing eyes daring anyone to test him. 

Tommy’s phone lights up and he immediately turns it face down, “besides, easier innit? Haven’t got time to be spending on women in bars or journalists I need to write a good profile about me because I punched someone without thinking.” 

The smirk on Tommy's face tells Alfie that he’s joking, but the bearded man takes a sip of his beer without a hint of amusement washing over his features. 

“Never knew Tommy Shelby to be so desperate that he’d turn to fucking Tinder.“ Tommy scowls and takes a long drag on his cigarette

“And I never knew Alfie Solomons to be so soft that he’d have his girl as the fucking wallpaper on his phone.” 

Alfie shakes his head, finishing his drink before standing his hand resting on Tommy’s shoulder. 

“I’ll be off now then,” he says, before leaning in to speak directly in Tommy’s ear. “And by the way mate, I was thinking before I punched Sabini.” 

Patting Tommy’s shoulder, he makes his way out of the pub turning back to look at his friend. 

“Nice seeing you mate, give me a call next time you’re in London.” 

                                                  ---------------------

When a knock sounds on the front door, Cyril is the first to react, his loud bark making you jump as he jumps up off the couch to rush at the door.

“Oh, calm down, it’s no stranger,” you mutter as you close your laptop, getting up to follow the dog to the door.

Cyril jumps up when you open the door, tail wagging madly as Hannah comes into view, a bag of takeout in one hand and a grin on her face even when Cyril jumps up on her.

“Cyril! Hello buddy, did you miss me?” she asks, patting his head as she eases the large dog back to his feet. “Hey y/n!”

Hannah pulls you in for a hug the second she’s able to, her thin arms surprisingly strong as she holds you in against her, her warm hug reminding you of Alfie’s.

“Hey Hannah, thanks for coming,” you tell her as you pull away.

Over the past six months you’ve seen plenty of Hannah, dinners with her, Alfie and Ollie, times when Hannah has come over to, in her own words, annoy her brother,  and even a few times she has dropped by the distillery at the same time you happened to be there, but in all that time you never really found yourself alone with her very much. You’d wanted a chance to spend time with her without Alfie or Ollie around for quite a while, and so a night with Alfie’s place all to yourself seems like the perfect time for it.

“Any chance to come hang out with Cyril without Alfie being around to growl at me, I’ll take it,” she jokes, taking the food to the table and fishing out a treat she’d bought for Cyril. “But seriously, I’m glad you called, I wanted a chance to spend some time with you without Alf around.”

“Yeah me too, figured it would be a good chance while he’s in Birmingham,” you make your way into the kitchen. “Drink?”

“Surely, he’s got a bottle of his rum around here somewhere, I actually really like it, a fact he will never let me forget,” she says, joining you in the kitchen to look through his cupboards. “Did you tell him you were inviting me over?”

“It was sort of a spur of the moment idea, he said he might facetime me tonight, so he can find out you’re here then,” you say with a shrug.

As Hannah pulls out a bottle of Alfie’s rum and pours the both of you a drink you move the takeout to the coffee table, filling Cyril’s food bowl before you do so to avoid him trying to steal your food before sinking into the armchair, leaving the couch open for Hannah to sink into as she places the two drinks on the coffee table along with the food.

“So, you’re a journalist huh? You like your job?” she asks, pulling her legs underneath her as she digs into her food.

“I love it! I enjoy profile pieces the most, getting the chance to meet people I’d otherwise never meet and get to know them is fun and it led me to Alfie so that’s a bonus,” you explain, unable to help the smile that grows on your face at the mention of him.

Hannah smirks around her food, having seen the same goofy grin on her brother’s face at the mere mention of you. 

“I’ve never seen Alfie this happy with a girl before. Not that he dates all that much, he mostly keeps to himself, especially since his last girlfriend, but you make him happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

A warm feeling of satisfaction spreads through you at the other woman’s words, a wide smile spreading across your face though you can’t help the hint of curiosity at the mention of an ex-girlfriend.

“He’s still a fucking grump most of the time,” she adds, making you laugh. “But he’s definitely happier with you around.”

“Don’t have to tell me how grumpy he is, I’m the one who has to deal with him in the mornings,” you mutter with a roll of your eyes. “But he makes me happy, I’m really lucky to have found him.”

Spending time with Hannah is easy, her easygoing demeanour setting you at ease around her when you were sure you’d be nervous spending time alone with your boyfriend’s sister. 

The two of you have more in common than just Alfie, the conversation flowing through talk of your favourite shows, to the mutual friends you didn’t realise you had, and even to the goals the both of you have for the future before it turns back to the subject of the man whose flat you’re currently sitting in. 

“So now that I’ve got you alone I need to ask, do you have any good embarrassing photos of Alfie?” you ask, her face lighting up at the idea of it. “Or just cute childhood photos?” 

“I do! Our mum took photos of us all the time when we were growing up and I kept all her photo albums, you have to come over sometime soon and we can go through them! He was an adorable kid and his bar mitzvah photos are spectacular,” she says, the excitement at the prospect of showing you photos her brother would definitely be embarrassed about clear on her face.

“Oh my god I can’t wait to see!” you laugh, wishing you had asked her to bring some with her tonight.

Soon enough Hannah heads home, Cyril whining as she gets up to leave causing her to stay longer than she intended to appease the dog before leaving you alone together promising to show you those photos of Alfie sometime soon.

Once she’s gone you make your way into the bathroom, makeup coming off and brushing your teeth to prepare for bed, glad to be able to have Alfie’s bed all to yourself for the night. 

Settling into the bed, your phone vibrates against the wood of the bedside table the sound of it startling Cyril who had just made himself comfortable beside your legs, clearly telling you that your wish to have the bed to yourself will not be coming true anytime soon. 

Running a hand over the dog’s head to settle him, you reach for the phone unsurprised when you see it’s Alfie trying to Facetime. You snuggle into the pillows just as you hit answer, Alfie’s tired face filling up your screen.

“Hello love,” he says, the greeting that still makes your heart flutter, and forces a smile onto your face even in times you don’t feel like smiling.

“Hey Alf, how was the meeting?”

Cyril perks up at the sound of Alfie’s voice, lifting and tilting his head as he watches you curiously trying to work out where his dad’s voice is coming from.

“It was alright. How’s my boy doing?” he asks, his face lighting up at the sight of Cyril moving into frame, his large head moving to cover half of yours as he leans in and barks at the sight of Alfie. “Hello mate! How’re you doing?”

You grin, readjusting your position to allow for the huge dog trying to look at your phone with you.

“He’s good, I asked Hannah to come over for a bit tonight, so he’s had plenty of attention,” you tell him, grinning as Cyril licks your cheek.

“Hannah came over aye?”

“Yeah, I wanted a chance to talk to her alone for a while now and tonight seemed like a good chance for it,” you admit, suddenly feeling the need to defend your choice though when Alfie smiles you relax a little. 

“That’s good love, I’m glad you two get along so well. Just don’t fucking believe everything she says about me yeah? I’m not as bad as she makes me out to be,” he grumbles.

You smile at the frown on his face, wishing you could reach out and take his face between your hands, feel his beard beneath your fingers the distance between you making you miss him more than you expected to.

A yawn forces its way out your mouth, your eyes becoming heavy as Alfie chats about his day. Cyril settles in against your side, his snoring picking up soon enough and you struggle to keep your eyes open any longer.

“Get some sleep love, I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he says.

“Night Alf, I love you,” you mumble, not entirely aware of what you’re saying in your sleepy state.

Alfie’s eyebrows go up, the shock on his face at your declaration unnoticed by you as he bids you goodnight once again and hangs up as your eyes drift shut. 

Tags: @eap1935 / @coolmaybelateruniverse / @sandyddt / @inkeducatednnerdy / @ravendor28 / @thisisjeany / @overitall2018 / @outofbluecomesgreen / @mollybegger-blog / @bilesxbilinskixlahey / @elemeph / @pointlessblogger99 / @marvelfangirl-x / @madbrilliant84 / @lotusbreathe 

[creativity-is-rebellion]

Top 10 Favourite TV Shows I Have Seen (So Far)

I’ve done a few of these lists for film and music now, so I thought I would turn my attention to the small screen. The funny thing about these lists is that they may not represent an entirely accurate picture of what they intend to illuminate upon, but rather what comes to one’s mind when they are being compiled. In saying that, all of the below TV series definitely stand somewhere on my lengthy favourites list. So, here we go:

True Detective, Season One (2014)

It’s been said by others before me, but Season One of True Detective is without a doubt a near-perfect blend of narrative, dialogue, and cinematography, arguably the best in the last 20 years or so of crime shows. The Southern Gothic and Cosmic horror elements are present in the decay of the surroundings, the extravagantly decorated victims, and the sinister antagonists. This is juxtaposed with the world-weary detective trope, which switches between present-day interviews with the show’s two protagonists and flashbacks to where the narrative of the season began back in 1995, with the discovery of a body that has been placed in some kind of ritual tableau. Both Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaughey do a fine job playing the protagonist detectives on the case, but the complexity of McConaughey’s Rustin Cohle definitely steals the show, so much so that his performance re-launched his career (known at the time as the McConaissance). It’s a lot more terrifying than your typical detective series, borrowing a lot of concepts from philosophers, such as Nietzsche, and has an overall depressing and nihilistic vibe. But these elements, in my opinion, just add to its ingenuity and watchability. 10/10.

Dead Like Me (2003-2004)

Ok, so this show is now a cult classic, but at the time it didn’t get enough viewers, so there were only two seasons. I was one of the people who didn’t watch it until many years after its initial run. The renewed interest in the series even spawned a movie version in 2009, six years after the series came out. The premise is simple enough; a young, sardonic girl dies in an accident, and now she, along with a few other wrongfully-dead individuals, need to help a certain amount of people cross-over before being allowed to finally go through the pearly gates themselves. But the series approaches the plot in a unique manner, adding heart to the characters, and being appropriately funny, deep, and interesting when it needs to be. There is a reason it is now a cult classic. 10/10. 

Mindhunter (2017-2019)

Ah, the show that tells the story of how profiling at the FBI began, without naming any real-life FBI agents, but portraying hauntingly accurate versions of the serial killers that helped shape the system. I preferred the first season, even if Holden Ford, the main character, at times, appeared just as creepy as the monsters he was interviewing. The freaky-deaky sex scenes in the first season were kinda unnecessary, in my opinion, and took away from the main plot. It was enough to hear about the sexually-deviant acts of the sadistic killers being retold during interviews, and, even though it was meant to show the effects these stories were having on Holden, it still wasn’t needed. I also hated his bitch of a girlfriend. But other than that, the plot moves along at an interesting pace, with an adequate amount of foreboding that should be there when you fill up your days interviewing homicidal psychopaths. The second season took to long to appear in the world of Netflix, where audiences have the attention span of goldfishes, and was over-ambitious in its introduction of more serial killers than its predecessor, and jumping ahead too much in the timeline. I think that, since the first season, it has been interesting the way they start some of their episodes with the exploits of then-uncaught Dennis Rader, or the BTK (Bind, Torture, Kill) Killer, but, because there will be no more seasons, we will not see the ending of this plot. Also, in the second season, the plot about Bill Tench’s boy, and Dr. Wendy Carr’s love-life also took away from the plot. It seems that every time they delve into any of the main characters’ personal lives, they veer wildly off-track. They also could have found a more interesting serial killer to track than the Atlanta Child Murderer Wayne Williams, or could have done it differently. The audience agrees with this, obviously, because there will be no third season. Boy, it sounds like I was super-negative in this review, but I swear, I am a fan, if only for the interesting premise, excellent character portrayals, and creepy atmosphere. 8/10.

Dexter (2006-2013)

Fellow Dexter fans, repeat after me: We choose to ignore the ending. We choose to ignore the ending. We choose to ignore the ending. Sigh. Feel better? Good. Moving on. Dexter, the premise of a serial killer who only kills bad guys, as sketched out originally in Jeff Lindsay’s books (the novels for which the TV series was based upon), was, in 2006, a delightfully refreshing addition to Showtime’s prime-time slot set. In spite of what others thought, my favourite character besides Dexter was his sister Deb, played marvellously by Jennifer Carpenter. After Rita’s sadly horrific death at the end of Season 5 at the hands of the Trinity Killer (the best antagonist of the entire series), the quality of the show tumbled steeply downhill, but not enough for me to stop watching. 8/10.

American Horror Story (2011-Current)

I’ve enjoyed all nine seasons of American Horror Story, for its scares, and even for, at times, the sheer ludicrousness and campy acting. The best seasons, of course, include Jessica Lange, and no season to date has eclipsed the first two, but I like how there is a connected universe with each addition to the anthology. I am a person that enjoys a side-helping of Easter eggs and foreshadowing in my TV series, and AHS provides just that. Season 1 will always be the best for being the one that started it all, and Season 2 is a masterpiece. After that, my rankings are 5, 3, 4, 8, 6, 9 and 7. The latter seasons tend to follow a trend of peaking midway through, before skulking toward lukewarm endings. But the sheer existence of this show pleases the horror buff in me, so I will never tire of it. I can’t wait until October to see what they have in store for Season 10. 8/10.

Freaks and Geeks (1999)

Judd Apatow’s foray into the politics of high school in the early-1980s only lasted one season, but what a season it was. Freaks and Geeks introduced 16-year-old Lindsay Weir, who, after her grandmother’s death, is sick of being the brainy kid and wants to hang out with the freaks and finally be cool, sometimes with hilarious or heartwarming results. There is also her geeky freshman brother, Sam, and his equally awkward friends who run along as side-plots and occasionally provide the moral foil to the overarching plot of an episode. With a stellar cast, most of whom went on to even greater things, such as Linda Cardellini, Seth Rogen, and James Franco, Freaks and Geeks is more real than most teen dramas, and has rightfully developed a cult following in the years since the show’s cancellation. 9/10.

Twin Peaks (1990-1991, then again in 2017)

Ahead of its time, a pioneer 

American Gothic (1995-1996)

This is a forgotten horror gem of the mid-90s that kick-started Sarah Paulson’s career long before AHS, and Gary Cole was electric as crooked cop Sheriff Buck exerting evil supernatural influence over a small god-fearing town in the South. I first saw this show when I was 10, and it scared the crap out of me. The senseless murder of Merlyn Temple at the hands of Cole’s aforementioned sheriff haunted me years afterward.

Community (2009-2015)

In the first few seasons, Dan Harmon’s hilarious comedy, Community, starts off normally enough, centring around a lawyer (Joel McHale’s Jeff Winger) who is exposed as having a fake degree, and is required to attend community college to obtain the proper credentials to be re-admitted into the bar. When he forms a study group, initially with the goal to convince the girl he has a crush on (Britta Perry, played by Gillian Jacobs), to go out with him, they all become fast friends and partake in many crazy exploits while studying at Greendale, including a dark parallel universe, which has evil versions of each character. With a stellar ensemble cast, including Donald Glover of Childish Gambino fame, and Chevy Chase, who is still hilarious in his seventies, this show is must-see television. Stream it today. 10/10.

The Good Place (2016-2019)

The ending made me sad. 

[skyecrandall]

CCAs 2018 Afterparty (Choices fanfiction)

Book: Most 2018 Books

Genre: Comedy

Words: about 2800

Summary: A look to the party held for the winners and others of the CCAs 2018. Read along to follow the adventure of the party hosts, Pax and Eos Elara as they go around interviewing people like the gorgeous Annabelle Parsons or even the grumpy Thomas Hunt. Witness even a dance performance by Kamilah Sayeed.

Note: This story i based on the results of the CCAs 2018. If you haven’t read it yet you may find yourself to be a little confused. So I definitely recommend reading about the results, here first.

"This is Pax and Eos Elara reporting live from the CCAs 2018 after party where our fellow winners and losers alike, " said Pax to the camera.

"We will be your host for next hour or so as we talk to the gathered personality and others. So if you have a question you really want your favourite stars to answer it, twat it to us on Twatter with the hashtag #CCAask, " smiled Eos.

"Can we cut this part please. Ugh why is that social media called Twatter, it feels really gross, " complained Pax.

"We are live right now, we can't edit stuff now. Anyway here is Miss Parsons, the winner of the Best Female LI category. Let's go and hear her mind out, " said Eos as he dragged Pax towards where Annabelle was talking with Hana. 

"Miss Parsons, Miss Lee. Good afternoon. We hope that you are having a good time, " smiled Eos. 

"We are doing good thanks, what are you two doing?" Asked Annabelle.

"We could be doing better since our book didn't get nominated in any category at all, so that’s why we are charged of filming with after party. We are live say hi to your fans!" Said Pax as she waved into the camera.

"So what could the two winners of the same category be talking about like this, " asked Eos.

"I was just complimenting Miss Parsons for her beautiful speech. Sure we, women are currently better treated than during her era, but there is still a lot that is left to be done for men and women to be truly equal, "

explained Hana. "That is very true. It is because of men like Eos right here that our society is still so horrible to women, " agreed Pax.

"Wh-what did I do? I have been respectful to everyone who deserved it, " replied the elder Elara.

"I wouldn't call constant flirting respectable personally, " added Annabelle.

"That's a personality trait!" Complained Eos.

"Sure whatever. Let's go talk to Damien and Hayden now before my brother has an emotional breakdown. Let's head over to the mini-lounge area, " said Pax as she started walking towards where Damien and Hayden were chatting.

"Hey there winners are you enjoying the party?" Asked Pax.

"Parties are not really my thing but hey a party to celebrate my victory is nice, " said Damien.

"Plus free drinks!" Added Hayden.

"Yes and free drinks, " smiled Damien before taking a sip of his drink.

"Anyway where is the rest of your crew? It is a little odd to see just the two of you like this, " asked Eos.

"Sloane was really sad that she could not win her category and so Kai, Nadia and Steve went to console her. Khaan could not come due to Hamza and Alana is busy on a job overseas, " explained Hayden.

"Talking about Kai, here they are, " said Damien.

"I knew Nadia was a little cray but wow she is quite extreme. We could not console Sloane so Nadia just got her so drunk that she passed out. Then because it was make out time, she dragged Steve under a table and god knows what she could be doing right now. Oh hey, Pax and Eos, " said Kai as they settled between Damien and Hayden.

"She sure us a handful, " said Damien when a buzzer could be heard.

"What is that sound, " asked the robot.

"That means that it is time to answer a question from your fans on Twatter. Let's choose a random one that involves either of you three, " said Eos.

"Here's one. By @wescott-imogen . Let's see what it says:

“ Hey Damien I love you. Anyway I would just like to ask you whether you are Bi. I know you are, but some people still believe you are straight so I just want you to say it with your own mouth to confirm it.”

 " read Pax.

"Oh, well I'm most definitely bisexual. I hope this suffice you, " said Damien. 

"Thats not enough. We need confirmation that you truly are bi. You need to kiss a guy right here," added Pax.

"If so, I volunteer," smiled Kai.

"Hold on you can't. Since you are a girl in some playthroughs and for the same reasons i can't too. So that just leaves Eos," explained Hayden.

"Do I really have to?" Asked Damien.

"Well it's just a kiss. It's not a big deal," smiled Eos.

"You better kiss as good as you claim to," said Damien as he reluctantly kissed the elder Elara.

Their kiss seemed rather awkward at first but eventually they both fit together like pieces of a puzzle, much to the disgust of Kai.

"Whoops, we should probably stop the kissing for now. This is supposed to be a family friendly show, " said Pax as she pulled her brother away from Damien.

 "That kiss was actually really good. Like people who boast about this stuff are not really good but you Eos... whoa, " said Damien with a smile.

"I hope you believe me now Pax. My kisses are just the best, " winked Eos. 

"Yeah yeah okay. Anyway we better and go take a look at some other people before we witness a murder live on camera, " said Pax as she pushed her brother away after noticing Kai's murderous gaze towards Eos.

"Anyway time to go and find someone else. We won't find anyone in such a recluse corn-What the hell!" yelled Eos as he turned around and nearly bumped onto Skye Crandall.

"What are you doing here? Where are your friends?" Asked Pax.

"Bailey could not get the permission to come, Rory had to check on their mother, Ajay was bickering with Thomas Hunt the last time I saw him and Bailey's twin came to take Erin for a consolation date, " explained the goth.

"Ah...okay. Still aren't you lonely here? Wouldn't it be better if you stayed at home, no offence ?" asked the younger Elara.

"Anywhere is better than my house, " replied Skye coldly.

"Well anyway we've been wanting to have a talk with you, so will you answer a few questions for us?" Asked Eos.

"If I say yes will you stop bothering me?" Asked the red head.

"Yes? Anyway how are you feeling Miss Skye Crandall? You scored 2 nominations and despite being the underdog in the Best Female LI category you still scored a brilliant 3rd. So what are your thoughts?" Asked Pax.

"Cool... I guess?" Said Skye plainly. "Okay...Do you have anything you'd like to say for your family?" Asked Eos and Skye just gave her middle finger to the camera.

"We will have to censor that in editing, " said Pax.

"Again, this is live. We can't blur this out. Anyway anything to say to your friends that are at home?" Asked Eos.

"You guys are definitely not as uncool as you seem to be, especially you Bailey, " smiled Skye.

"Aww that is so sweet. Looks like our goth baby is actually a goth teddy bear, " smiled the elder Elara earning the two a scowl from the redhead.

"Well we should probably be moving on now. Oh wait look at the time, it's time for the dance performance, " said Pax as the two reporters moved away from Skye.

"Pax is right! Kamilah and her best friends have been willing to celebrate the event by offering us a dance performance. It might seem a little out of season, but that is mostly due to the CCAs being postponed so many times. Let's give our glorious performers a grand applause, " said Eos as the camera panned onto the central stage.

The stage curtain lifted up and Kamilah, Priya and The Baron appeared on stage in their Halloween Santa outfit with a Christmas backdrop.

"Are you sure the dance is worth being performed anymore? It's no longer Christmas, " whispered The Baron to Kamilah.

"We can't let our efforts be wasted. We worked hard on this performance and so everyone will have to watch it, " explained Kamilah.

"Also this is all just for fun and it will be a nice excuse to show off our Halloween outfits again hehe, " smiled Priya.

"Anyway... Nova Elara! Bring on the music! Give us Jingle Bell Rock!" Ordered Kamilah and Nova, the ATV MC! launched the soundtrack.

"Stroke em, Like em, Suck on my -" the soundtrack went on when our duo of reporters noticed the music and rushed on stage.

"Stop the sound!" Ordered Eos and the soundtrack stopped.

"What the fuck where you thinking Nova! This is not Jingle Bell Rock!" Yelled Pax.

"Shut your trap, Pax! This is a fucking family friendly show! You can't curse!" Yelled back Eos.

Realising what they both did, they both fell limp until suddenly Pax's phone started ringing. She glanced to take a look at the name and just accepted the call before shoving it into Eos' hands.

"This is for you, talk!" Ordered Pax who started sweating nervously.

Eos slowly brought the phone to his ears and said a small hello, before an stream of insults flowing from the phone. The person at the other end was so mad that their voice could be heard a few metres away from the twins. After a few minutes of berating the call finally ended.

“So what did Piper say?” said Pax, anxious as she took back her phone.

“She berated me the whole time before saying something like ‘The two of you are never getting hired again’” sighed Eos.

“Hmm, can we continue our performance?” asked Priya.

“No way. Your time slot is over. It’s now Maxwell’s time with his jokes,” replied Pax.

“This is unfair! The two of you crashed our performance!” complained the Baron.

“Listen. I don’t care that you are a super old and powerful vampire. We just got fired and we don’t want to anger that woman again, so please,” said Eos as he walked away, his sister in tow before passing Maxwell the microphone.

“I could use a drink,” said Pax.

“Same...You know what let’s just have fun and keep reporting.  Who knows maybe she will take us back? Anyway dear audience, Eos and Pax Elara are back in business and we are headed towards the buffet table to show you all the delicious snacks on the menu,” smiled Eos.

“Let’s go and see if these food are as wig snatching as people have been claiming all over their Twatter accounts. I mean seriously, our fellow winners have been posting more about the food than themselves,” continued Pax as the two siblings started heading towards the snack table where Elliot Vance and his sibling Harper Vance were having an eating competition.

“Hey there, mind giving us five minutes? We would like to interview you two about your awards,” said Eos.

“We...ant...eed...eaf....fafter” Said Elliot while munching into his food with fervour.

“What did you say? I don’t understand?” said Pax, confused.

“eaf...ing...con...fe...fifon...I...wiff...win,” mumbled Harper in between bites.

“I think they are doing an eating competition. Probably to settle their rivalry with this,” said the elder Elara.

“In that case.... Wooo go Elliot! You were the best!” cheered on Pax.

“Nonsense, Harper had the best performance. If you knew the amount of tissues I cried in watching their acting,” argued Eos as he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Maybe yes, but Eliot’s growth was one of the best part of the book. Uncultured swines like you can’t tell the difference,” voiced out Pax before the siblings started bickering among themselves.

Noticing the fight, Elliot tapped his sibling on their shoulder and said, “We don’t sound like this do we?”

“Nah, our banters are better. Let’s just leave them at it,” said Harper after they finished their food before leaving.

“They should value their kinship more,” mumbled Elliot as he walked away with Harper, however the two Elara could not hear him and just kept fighting among themselves about who had the best performance. It was only when a certain man appeared that they had to stop.

“Can I pass please? You two can bicker elsewhere,” said the man who was none other than Thomas Hunt.

“Ah Mr.Hunt, we are very sorry. Anyway Elliot, Harper can you lend us a word now?” said Pax.

“Welp, they are gone. I guess that means you will have to answer our questions now Mr.Hunt,” said Eos.

“I don’t get a say in this, do I?” asked the director.

“No you don’t. You know we will be annoying until you give us your time,” replied Pax.

“I knew I shouldn’t have come here. First that high school director wanna be and now paparazzi wanna bes. Begin your questions already,” grumbled Hunt.

“Well, as a director, do you agree with the winners of this year’s CCAs?” asked Eos.

“The winners are more or else deserved, although I believe Veil Of Secrets should have won the best atmosphere category though,” said the director when the buzzer suddenly rang.

--BE WARNED: The following section is not safe for work nor suitable for minors, read at your own perils or you can skip it till the next time you see bold text.--

“Looks like its time to search a question for our amazing director to answer, Eos will you do us the honour,” said Pax.

“Of course, here is one by @teamtomsato:

“Hiya Hunty :3333 Have you read my fic yet? Here’s the link! I’m really proud of it! *link to their ao3 fic* *gazillions of heart emojies* “

Aww how sweet. They want to ask you if you read their fanfiction, so have you done so Mr.Thomas,” said Eos

“I do not have time for such nonsense. I’m also having a bad feeling about this,” shuddered the director.

“Come on, it is just a story. What’s so bad about it? I know! How about we read just a page of it right now. Choose a page!” proposed the younger Elara.

“Ugh, let’s see then. Page 84. I don’t think that person’s fanfiction would be that long,” growled Hunt.

“Well you are wrong Hunty. This person’s story is 169 pages long. Here, I already put it on page 84,” said Eos as he handed the grumpy director his phone.

“I guess I should play along just so that this martyr ends quickly,” said Hunt as he started reading off that page.

Additional warning: This is the time that i recommend you to skip to the next bolded sentence once again as the following part is heavily nsfw and definitely not suited for minors.

“Hunt’s rough hands find their landing on Jessica’s shoulders, holding her tightly as his fluid movements against her body cause her to scream out in pleasure.

“Harder Daddy, hARDER!” Jessica’s pants, the grumpy marshmallow picking up his momentum inside of her slick caverns, overflowing with her love juice.

“You like that princess?” Hunt growls into her ear, “You like daddy’s big dick?”

“I love your big dick daddy!” 

“read Thomas, astonished.

“Wh-why...” stammered the director, aghast.

“Oh no, this is bad...We thought we passed through the worst earlier but this is nothing compared to this,” muttered Pax.

“Let’s just walk away like nothing happened,” said Eos but as they tried to go away, the director stopped them.

“Hold on. I’ve got a message for you @teamtomsato . I’ve called the police. They are coming to get you. You going to jail. You hear me. JAIL,” yelled Hunt as he grabbed the camera and focused it onto him.

--You my now continue read. The nsfw part is now over-

“Alright let’s see who we can talk to now...” smiled Pax.

“Hopefully it won’t be someone indecent. Wait, Rye? What are you doing here?” asked Eos after he noticed Rye hanging around.

“What are you doing here, its not your book’s year yet,” said Pax.

“I’m just here to observe. This way It will be perfect when we get win the awards,” smiled Rye.

“Cocky aren’t we?” teased Eos.

“Well I have a reason to be so sure of myself. Our book is doing really good right now and Eris and Tillie have a good shot at winning the best Female LI category. The only real opponent we have are the Desire and Decorum team and also if another It Lives comes out,” explained the conman,

“Interesting. What about your teammates? It is odd to see you all alone, especially without even Eris or Lee,” asked Pax.

“Well they are kinda on a job right now...” smiled Rye and as if on cue, an explosion occurred in the hall they were gathered in.

“The escape route has been formed, let’s go go go!” ordered Eris as members of her crew started running towards the hole she made with jewellery and trophies in hand.

“Well, this is a good bye. See you at the CCAs 2019 and remember to vote us when the time comes,” smiled Rye as he also disappeared through the hole.

“Arggggh I’m not letting them get away! Zekei! Deimos! Parker! Naomi! Let’s catch those thieves!!!” roared Eos as he pulled out his ray gun.

“Well I guess this little report is ending right here. We hope you had a lot of fun and we can’t wait to see you again for the CCAs 2019!!!” smiled Pax before the program ended.

-------------------------

Phew finally finished this fic and with it concludes the 208 round of the CCAs. This fic came in impromptu in my mind so to prevent it from also getting inside the endless cycle of never being written I decided to rush it and I got it right,

IF you enjoyed the fanfiction, please leave a like or a comment/reblog, I like hearing other’s opinions. If you really like my style, please do check my masterpost (in my bio or press the masterpost word) which features all of my written work.

[jennifersylvesters]

on the air ( prologue )

Synopsis: Your radio program receives its first ever caller...only to complain about a certain segment. Little do you know that he’s not going to stop bothering you both on the air and off. Pairing: uni!Harrison Osterfield x reader Word Count: 3.1k~ A/N: i’ve got absolutely no knowledge about radio stations so i’m so sorry if anything’s wrong. also - laying all the foundation for this - probably will start to pick up in part one. as always, i appreciate any - if at all - feedback. aka please give me feedback.

There were certain aspects that made autumn reign the supreme season in your mind. From the colorful leaves that swirled around to coziness of the sweater weather, you lived for the moment the air turned crisp and autumn came to visit. While others considered January the start of a new change, your heart said that fall season signaled new beginnings. After all, autumn meant the start of a new school year which had just as many resolutions as a new year did. 

You knew it wasn’t a popular opinion, but you loved coming back to campus after break. Summer was great, but there was something comforting about returning back to the quad. Yes, of course lugging up all your belongings into your new dorm room was always a pain. Yet there was a satisfaction when you finally tidied up your room making it feel like a home away from home, a small victory that you relished.

And nothing excited you more about arriving back on campus than getting to see your uni friends. Even though it had only been a couple months, you would break into a sprint and crash into all your closest friends with a hug when you spotted them; the reunion may have been a bit dramatic, but text messages and FaceTiming didn’t have quite the same effect as seeing someone in person.

Coming back to campus also meant another year of being a radio host. What started off as a fun proposition during your university’s activities fair turned into one of your favorite activities. 

The concept seemed simple enough. The station managers explained that all you needed to do was submit a radio proposal on what you planned on broadcasting. They would show you how to work the equipment and because it wasn’t a particularly popular activity, the station accepted just about every proposal thrown their way. 

In the couple of years that you broadcasted, you mostly kept to yourself. Of course you politely smiled at passing DJs, but you didn’t branch out fully with them. It wasn’t as if you viewed them as competition so much as you weren’t sure what to say to them. The only people you really spoke with were the station manager and the engineers.

Most of the engineers who worked at the station were students, taking the job in order to enhance their resume. It also helped that the position was an easy gig. Rarely did things go wrong and if it did, they were tiny blunders that engineers could quickly fix.

Which is how you came to work with George. For the most part he kept to himself, occasionally commenting a one word response. You were well aware of how he tended to tune out your broadcast, focusing on homework. Yet he was a reliable fellow, quick to fix whatever mistakes arose without being asked and never casting blame on you. 

About a year into knowing George, you suggested the idea of interviewing him which he surprisingly agreed to. It shouldn’t have surprised you how poorly the interview went. The struggle to have interesting questions combined with his stoic personality made for a terrible segment. The only positive outcome of the broadcast was that you learned three odd yet interesting facts about George: he typically had terrible luck with the exception of technology, he hated his roommates, and he was Greek. 

By now you and George mutually understood one another. He got the gist of your programming, knowing that you still struggled with cues and always lent a helping hand during those difficult moments. You understood he was friendlier to you on the days when his roommates weren’t being as annoying as usual.

Unlike some radio presenters that attempted to broadcast new, fun and exciting concepts, you kept your proposal simple: half of your program would be a talk show while the other half would play whatever music interested you at the moment. “So basically like a regular radio show?” the managers confirmed when you pitched, to which you slowly nodded your head. Your proposal wasn’t extravagant, and they could work with that. You requested if at all possible to you go by a pseudonym which they had no problem with. The station managers understood you weren’t trying to be ambitious; it was the presenters who wanted multiple sound effects and crowded the booth worried them more than your show. 

You settled for taking the nine to midnight slot on Thursdays, not wanting to fight for prime times the way other presenters did. This meant you couldn’t party with your friends that day, and you secretly loved using it as an excuse. You assumed no one except your group of friends actually listened to your show when they weren’t going out, and you didn’t mind. At least someone was listening. 

The music aspect of your show came naturally to you. Every week you would decide on a genre and let whatever music peaked your interest play freely. While you knew it was expected to make a set playlist, you found the managers let you skate by on that expectation because it wasn’t particularly busy that late at night. 

You found the talk show aspect was more difficult than you expected. Speaking about different subjects for an hour and a half took more work than you realized. Still, you always managed to find a couple of topics that peaked your interest to discuss on your show. 

Your favorite segment that you always included was something you dubbed “Romance Report” where you discussed the adorable romances you noticed on campus. You gushed about the cute couples, vividly describing certain people and the gestures that made you believe how in love they seemed to be. While you didn’t personally know any of the couples, you chose to give them the benefit of the doubt that their relationships were going strong.  

After a month and a half of being back on campus, you finally found your rhythm once more with programming. As you gently bopped along to the beat of Kehlani’s “Distraction”, you situated yourself to start “Romance Report” once the song ended. 

This week you spoke about a certain couple you saw where the boyfriend lovingly tucked a dandelion behind his girlfriend’s ear before kissing her on the forehead. The two of them laced their fingers together as they walked away from your vision, but the interaction left you full of butterflies in your heart. As you jabbered on about how adorable the gestures were, the phone line lit up. You stared quizzically at the blinking button, almost unsure if it was truly happening. The phone line only lit up when it was just your friends wanting to chat with you, but they normally texted before actually calling the station. It took you by surprise when you answered and an unfamiliar voice spoke. 

“Hey. Uh, yeah, would you please just shut up about the couples on campus?” the voice berated you, irritation laced in their tone. Naturally you were taken back. The first actual caller you got was upset with your programming? 

“I-I’m sorry?” you stuttered, unsure of what was occurring. You looked up to see George looking up at you. Like always, he rarely had an expression on his face but it was odd for him to pay attention unless something interesting was happening.

“Listen” the unknown voice sighed. “I’m not trying to be that person, but hearing this whole “romance report”...Honestly, it’s idiotic.”

The caller certainly wasn’t one to mince words. The comment stung, but you tried your best to remain civil. “Well, you don’t have to listen if you don’t want to?” you slowly responded, not wanting to offend the caller. 

“Yeah, but my mate says the music you usually play is pretty good. Which, yeah, you do have good music taste. So can you just stick to that?” It sounded more like an order than advice, and you could feel yourself becoming vexed. 

“No. You know what? I think I’ll keep talking about this couple” you decided promptly. You heard the caller on the line groan. “Listen pal, just change the station if you’re really that upset.”

“Or maybe just stop doing this segment in general.”

“This is my radio show” you snapped. “I’ve literally been doing this since I started.”

“So I’ve heard” the voice grunted. “And some of the couples you choose are ridiculous, you know that? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“How are they ridiculous? You don’t know what you’re talking about” you scoffed. 

“A couple weeks ago you talked about some couple sharing a croissant near the library’s coffee shop. You went on and on about how they must share everything. Pretty sure he’s not sharing the fact that he’s cheating on her.”

Your eyes widened at this statement. “What are you talking about?”

“Not to call him out on the radio, but he’s probably not listening anyways. So the guy you were talking about: his name’s Marcus. Saw him hooking up with some girl that was definitely not his girlfriend last week at that bar, Checkers.”

You exchanged glances with George. Even for someone so stoic, you noticed how he raised an eyebrow at that statement. Clearly this wasn’t what he expected during his shift. 

“Y-You don’t know that” you stammered out. 

“But I do” the voice insisted. “Love’s a joke. People like you think that it’s this everlasting magical feeling when it’s not. It’s work and when people realize that, they leave.”

“You’re being cynical” you retorted. 

“And you’re getting played by the biggest con job of them all.”

“N-No, I’m not” you defended yourself, but you heard how weak your response sounded. 

“Stop living in a fantasy world, romanticizing couples like that. It’s not real.” The comment cut deep, triggering something in you that you weren’t particularly sure you liked. 

“I think that’s all for now” you dismissed as you cut the line. You didn’t wait for the caller to respond, done with his attitude. 

You fumbled around with the controls before playing something - anything - to buy you some time. Somehow you managed to start up Mahalia’s “Never Change”, letting her song kill three minutes so you could formulate what to do for your remaining air time.

Glancing up, you noticed George still looking at you. You swallowed nervously, unsure if you wanted him to say anything or not. 

“Christ. Thought that’d be one of your friends” he finally commented before taking a sip of his coffee and returning back to his studies. 

“So did I” you agreed, leaning back in your chair. A loud sigh escaped your lips before you sat back up and began queueing up songs, at least long enough for you to compose yourself once more. The caller’s comments rang in your mind as you tried to process what just happened.

Despite your consistent praising of love, you hadn’t truly experienced it yourself. While some of your friends had significant others in high school, you only had a handful of crushes that eventually fizzled out. You never bothered to get a boyfriend, believing you would eventually get one in uni. Yet somehow that expectation never came true. 

The last thing you wanted to focus on was searching for someone to date. The majority of your time was spent hanging out with your friends or studying anyways. Occasionally your friends dragged you out to parties and bars, but you believed that no serious relationship could start at these locations. So you politely declined the idea of hook ups or handing your numbers out to strangers who offered to buy you drinks. 

You found solace in your radio show, just enjoying the idea of love rather than putting yourself out there. Because you wanted something cute, something real. But it didn’t seem likely on your campus. 

Still, you enjoyed the fantasy loves in your life. They were attractive guys whose small acts of kindness fueled your fantasies of what love could be. 

There was Kendall, the barista whose eyes always crinkled happily when you thanked him for your drink. During freshman year you generously tipped and politely thanked him after a huge rush, never once pestering him about how long he took to make the drinks. From discussing the different types of roasts to asking about his day, you always made polite small talk with him. At this point he memorized your usual order and always had it prepared by the time you finished paying. 

There was Logan, one of the student librarians who always let you eat in the biography section of the library despite no food being allowed near the bookshelves. You suspected it was because you consistently visited the place that he gave you a free pass. But you liked to believe it was due to you helping him shelve books during a particularly awful finals week. Whenever you passed him on campus, he would nod in your direction and the two of you would share an understanding smile of the secret that you both kept.

And then there was Harrison, one of the students in your art history class. If there was one thing that made an eight in the morning course more bearable, it was getting to see him. You couldn’t help but steal glances at the boy whose disheveled hair somehow looked so perfect.

Two weeks into the class you curiously watched as he fumbled through his pockets before letting out a low groan. You were caught off guard when he turned towards you asking to borrow a pen. After a brief moment of rummaging around your backpack, you pulled a pen from the front pouch. As you began to hand the pen over, you spotted bagel crumbs scattered on his shirt. 

You held out the pen to him, nervously silent. But something told you to let the cute boy know about the crumbs. “Don’t mean to be rude, but you have a little mess going on there” you whispered, leaning in towards him. 

Looking down, he spotted the little bits of his breakfast scattered on his shirt. He lightly blushed before mumbling a thanks, wiping the crumbs to the floor. 

A week later as you studied on a bench in the quad, you felt a light tapping on your shoulder. You looked up to see Harrison smiling down at you. He made brief small talk before asking to borrow your notes after missing the previous class. You pretended that you hadn’t realized he hadn’t shown when in reality you glumly spent the first couple of minutes of that class staring at the empty seat besides yours.

You handed over your notes as he thanked you. Harrison paused, opening his mouth to say something but stopped upon hearing someone call his name. Both of you glanced around only to spot a boy a couple feet away waving his arm excitedly. Harrison nodded towards whom you assumed was one of his friends. “Well, I’ll see you in class” he said as he headed towards the cheerful fellow.

As the next week rolled around and you tiredly staggered in to the art history class, you were caught off guard by something you weren’t expecting to see: on top of your usual desk were your notes along with the pen Harrison borrowed weeks before and an iced coffee with two sugar packs on top of the lid. The kind gesture touched you, especially since you hadn’t been able to stop by your usual cafe and were in desperate need of caffeine. You tore the sugar packets into the coffee before stirring, thoughts swirling of how Harrison must’ve noticed your preference of coffee. You gratefully sipped on the beverage before the professor walked in and began the lecture.

By next class, you found yourself buying him a breakfast muffin. You knew he only bought the drink as a gesture of showing thanks, but it was too sweet and kind for you not to thank back. It took all your courage not to chicken out, but you placed the pastry on his usual spot before class started. 

Upon seeing Harrison enter the classroom, you whipped your head around and immediately pretended to focus on your notes. The sound of his chair sliding out indicated he was next to you, but you ignored it. It took a brief moment for him to actually take his seat, which you figured meant he saw what you left for him. You could feel his gaze on you, but you continued  to stare down at your notes as your face heated up. It wasn’t until the professor walked in that you finally looked up. 

The first couple of minutes you desperately tried to concentrate on the subject at hand, refusing to look anywhere but straight ahead. But a soft tap on your arm brought you out of your trance, and you turned to Harrison who had halved the muffin and was offering a part to you. 

Your face heated up once more as you politely shook your head and raised a hand to indicate “no thanks”. But there was something about his gentle smile and him gesturing once more for you to take it that you eventually caved in. 

And that was the start of your art history tradition with him. One of you would bring in a breakfast food and split it with the other. No words were exchanged except the occasional thanks. While you couldn’t help but think that it didn’t mean much to Harrison, it only fueled your imagination about the potential of falling in love with him. 

Out of all your fantasy crushes, you enjoyed your thoughts about Harrison the most. Perhaps it was because you spent the most time with him, even if it was during a two hour lecture course filled with silence between the two of you.

You knew about Harrison even before this course. He was one of the many foreign students on campus that people fawned over. Perhaps it was his personality or maybe just his looks, but there was something about him that had girls hooked. You occasionally saw him at parties, but girls always clamored over him that you hadn’t paid mind until recently.

Fantasies now plagued your mind of him being yours, him taking you out to bars not to get drunk but to show you off as his girl. You couldn’t get over the idea of Harrison laughing along with your mates while his arm casually wrapped around your waist. And that at the end of the night, the two of you would go back to his dorm room and cuddle, falling asleep in one another’s arms. When his alarm would go off in the morning, you’d bundle up in his sweater and stroll hand in hand to the art history lecture hall. 

But of course you knew it was just fantasy. Still, you loved the idea of love and scowled at the idea of love being a joke like your caller implied. 

[gdelgiproducer]

DOTV AU: An Exercise in Alternate History (Part VII)

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, and VI offer more detailed context. (To briefly sum up why these posts are happening: alt history – as in sci fi, not “alternative facts” – buff, one day got the idea that DOTV could have turned out hella different if Jim Steinman looked for a star lead in other places, decided to reason out how that might work.) This is still getting a good response, so I’m gonna keep the train rolling.

Parts of the AU timeline established so far:

Instead of stopping at recording two songs from Whistle Down the Wind on a greatest hits compilation, Meat Loaf wound up taking more of an interest in Steinman’s new theater work than he did in our timeline, and through a series of circumstances found himself volunteering to play Krolock in the impending DOTV when Jim poured out his woes to him about needing to find some sort of star to attract investors. At a loss for any better ideas, Jim accepted Meat’s impulsive proposal, but not without resistance from his manager, David Sonenberg, who proposed Michael Crawford as an alternate candidate. Through quick thinking on Meat’s part, and inspiration on Jim’s, Crawford left the room accepting an entirely different role than he walked in hoping to get, leaving Krolock still open for Meat.

There was a brief speed bump, when Meat disliked Jim’s English script for the show, but after meeting with the original German author Michael Kunze and convincing Jim to compromise, things were on the road to being back on track… at least until 9/11 occurred.

Following a brief hiatus, everyone involved met to re-assess their options. The current game-plan was to put the new script on paper, schmooze with potential investors or producers, and put together a new creative team. Preferably not all at the same time, but with the crunch on, they’d do whatever needed to be done.

So far, the schmoozing has gone well, but everybody that Meat, Jim, and the crew would like to be involved is tentative. The newest conclusion is that they need to show them there’s a working show, and a concert of selections from the score seems to be the route they’re taking, possibly financed by an unlikely source.

Continuing the alternate DOTV timeline, a little differently this time! This time we get a feature on the concert from the New York Post’s own Michael Riedel. Take it away!

VAMPIRES: NEW MUSICAL BLOOD by Michael Riedel

If you’ve heard the buzz on the Rialto of late, you’d be forgiven for wondering if you were having a particularly nasty acid flashback. Dance of the Vampires, a new $15 million musical of the macabre based on the 1967 Roman Polanski movie The Fearless Vampire Killers, is already a monster hit in Austria and Germany, and it’s starting to gather steam here in the States as well, with some... we’ll call it unlikely... star power attached. After all, what other musical (even in a preliminary concert presentation) can boast Courtney Love as an emcee slash investor, and such disparate names as Meat Loaf and Michael Crawford as co-headliners?

Admittedly, Meat Loaf’s presence is slightly less surprising, as the driving force behind the show is Jim Steinman, who wrote Mr. Loaf’s classic Bat Out of Hell albums as well as the lyrics for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Whistle Down the Wind.  He has written the score and is co-adapting the book for Vampires with playwright David Ives (All in the Timing), who is also currently at work with Steinman for Warner Bros. on a musical version of Batman, from German dramatist Michael Kunze’s original script. He also co-directed this concert with Starmites composer Barry Keating, though early reports that Steinman would be co-directing the eventual Broadway run with Jane Eyre creator John Caird have ultimately been dismissed.

“Roman directed it in Vienna, but he can’t work here because of his legal problems,” Steinman said, referring to Polanski’s indictment for statutory rape in the 1970′s. “He may be the first director who can’t work over here because of a statutory rape charge.” When queried about who then would be directing the New York run, Steinman was tight-lipped, but among those in attendance at the evening’s proceedings was Urinetown’s Tony-winning helmer, John Rando, who is now rumored to be in talks for the slot. Said Rando of the new show, “It takes the vampire myth and pokes fun at it, but it also embraces it. Its message is about the excesses of appetite. It has wit and an edge to it. I’d love to be involved!”

The presentation (at the 499-seat Little Shubert Theatre, about half a mile west of Broadway; events like this cause us rightfully to wonder why it doesn’t see more use) for a by-invitation-only crowd was kicked off by Ms. Love, Hole rocker and widow of Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain, in memorable form. Says a source in attendance, “You could sum it up in two words: too drunk. She was literally falling over. She wasn’t coherent at all.” Managing to gather herself enough to announce that Dance of the Vampires is a musical for people “who think musicals suck,” she didn’t manage to say much else of importance. “It just became a little too sloppy, and she was removed.” Insiders report that Steinman’s manager, David Sonenberg, who is also one of the show’s producers (and a first-timer at that), worried that those involved would be seen as taking advantage of a troubled addict. Ms. Love’s performance did little to dispel this perception. Lucky that representatives from noted L.A.-based promoter Concerts West, major music manager Irving Azoff (who numbers The Eagles, REO Speedwagon, Journey, Christina Aguilera, and Sammy Hagar among his clients), film and music mogul Jerry Weintraub, and Broadway’s own Barry and Fran Weissler were in attendance; a cash infusion from such sources may well be needed to save face if she can’t “live through this,” to twist a phrase from her 1994 album of the same name.

In addition to Sonenberg, already attached to Vampires on the producing side are Andrew Braunsberg (another first-timer, who also produced Polanski’s 1971 film version of Macbeth), Leonard Soloway, Bob Boyett (Sweet Smell of Success, Topdog/Underdog), Lawrence Horowitz (Electra, It Ain’t Nothing But the Blues), and Barry Diller and Bill Haber’s USA Ostar Theatricals. Boyett, a TV producer turned legit entrepreneur, used the phrases “trial by fire” and “going to war,” perhaps because while some novice producers just put up the money, get the credit and run, Boyett says he’s been taking the process very seriously: “I went to all the meetings and learned, like it was grad school.” While some Hollywood types find Broadway “less cutthroat,” Boyett finds it “more restrictive.” He mentions the sheer physical space of the theaters but also all the rules and regulations: "I’ve dealt with unions all my life, but I do find Actors’ Equity is very restrictive to the creative process.” Further, he regrets that Vampires will not have an out-of-town tryout. “I loved the experience of taking Sweet Smell of Success to Chicago,” he says with real enthusiasm, as if the project ended happily. “It was helpful to have the critics say what they did.” Not that Boyett thinks the right message from the critics got to the creative team. 

As for Boyett’s teammates, Bill Haber attended on behalf of USA Ostar, and although he wouldn’t consent to a formal interview, he couldn’t resist answering one question -- and it has nothing to do with Dance of the Vampires. Why is Haber’s other fall production, Imaginary Friends by Nora Ephron, being called a play if it has six songs by Marvin Hamlisch and Craig Carnelia? “It has nothing to do with how many songs there are,” he shot back. “It has to do with the fact that if you took all the songs out, it still works and you still have a play.”

And all this before we even get to the show itself. Vampires is your typical erotic musical about an innocent girl (played this evening by impressive newcomer Mandy Gonzalez, currently standing by for the role of Amneris in Aida and late of Off-Broadway’s Eli’s Comin’) choosing between two lovers, in this case an older, aristocratic vampire (Loaf, whose appearance here marks the first time he has worked with Steinman in theater since the early Seventies) and a hunky young grad student (Max von Essen, who reportedly also appeared in the Steinman/Caird-helmed reading in April 2001) under the tutelage of a rather intensely wacky vampire hunter (Crawford). Given the level of Loaf’s obvious commitment to the piece, it is surprising that his manager (Allen Kovac, of Left Bank Management) was a no-show, and in that light, rumors that Loaf has yet to formally sign on the dotted line for Vampires (in spite of previous announcements to the contrary, no less) prove even more curious. Calls to Kovac’s office were not returned. The rest of the cast, boasting some fine voices indeed, was filled out by assorted Broadway names and members of Meat Loaf’s long-time touring band, The Neverland Express, which also provided accompaniment for the evening under the crisp musical direction of veteran rock bassist Kasim Sulton (best known for his work with Todd Rundgren and Utopia, among others).

Speaking of the music: the score, as per Steinman’s usual style, is appropriately big and Wagnerian, with plenty of luscious, operatic melodies, including one familiar favorite that sticks out like a sore thumb: Steinman’s famous “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” under whose operatic pretensions I swooned as a teenager. “I couldn’t resist using it,” he says of a song that goes, ‘Once upon time there was light in my life / But now there’s only love in the dark.’ “I actually wrote it for another vampire musical that was based on Nosferatu, but never got produced.” Close listening to the CD sampler for interested investors also reveals a rehash of the vigorous “Tonight Is What It Means to Be Young,” his song for the film Streets of Fire, which I saw in Los Angeles in 1984 and sent me racing along Mulholland Drive to keep up with the propulsive beat.

As for the new stuff, maybe 50′s rock ‘n’ roll with a 70′s preen isn’t what the 80-year-olds who constitute Broadway’s audience want to hear (and Jim’s rock-mock-Wagnerian shtick admittedly tends to play better in London and Las Vegas than in Manhattan), but my sources say they knew from the first number --  an angelic trio with a beguiling (what did they used to call it?) melody and some expert (the Andrews Sisters used to do it) harmony -- that this would be my kind of score. Frankly I’m glad; since the prehistoric vinyl days, Steinman has been the guy I keep calling for to rejuvenate, or just plain juvenate, the Broadway musical, in a world where the musical theater establishment pronounces old ABBA records a hip pop sound.

The book, while reportedly in better shape than the April reading, is something else again. From the excerpts on display last night, the mix of bawdy humor and eroticism still needs fine-tuning. Says Sonenberg, “By the time we open, it will be a new version of the show, significantly changed with a view toward a New York audience, but right now it plays very much like the original in several respects.” Adds David Ives, “The German production is probably more faithful to the film, but it’s a fairly humorless show, with people getting hit on the head with salami. And I’ve been brought in to take out the salami and put in the chorus girls, without veering into camp in the process. Now it’s just a question of finding the balance, which, needless to say, isn’t easy. But I like what we’ve accomplished so far: Meat’s character is vastly different, a much more multifaceted, dynamic, complete figure. We’ve also made other changes and cuts and restructured the show into a book musical, with dialogue; the original is all sung. I think we’ve made it a much more interesting story.”

Time, as always, will be the ultimate arbiter of fate.

[delightful-mystery]

EXCLUSIVE interview with Shawna from War on Women

I’m so excited that a conversation with Shawna Potter of War on Women about which merch top would fit me best turned into such a fantastic Q&A. She is one of my idols, both as a frontwoman and an author/activist, and has so many interesting points to make about being a women in the music industry. Read to the end to find out how you can buy her book (which you SHOULD because it’s GREAT).

How important is being a DIY band to you? How has that changed as you have gathered fans along the way and got bigger? I don’t think bands have much of a choice in being DIY or not, unless they are working from a trust fund or get that kind of instant success that invites you into the industry (which is rare, considering how many bands exist). So the idea is if we want to play, we gotta make it happen. We make the decisions, but honestly we get a lot of help that enables us to accomplish what we want and still keep our day jobs when we’re not on tour. DIY sometimes means doing it together. After years and years and years of booking my own tours, the second I could get WOW a booking agent I jumped on the chance. So does that mean we’re not DIY? I don’t know.. But Margie at Do It Booking has enabled us to play in front of crowds we never would have otherwise, to tour with bands we respect and admire, and for us the goal of this band has always been to present a feminist perspective to anyone listening. But we don’t have a manager, we don’t have a major label pushing us into a direction that doesn’t feel natural, and we don’t do anything we don’t want to do. I guess the idea is if any of that changes, we just have to work at making sure we are still in control of our sound and our message.

I am so excited to read your book! When did you start thinking about writing it? How did it feel to have all the overwhelmingly positive responses? Any plans for more writing/other creative projects besides music? I’m excited for you to read it! After six years of conducting safer space trainings, I realized I was repeating myself – so why not write it all down in a book? That way, more people have access, it’s cheaper than paying for a workshop, and the tactics can spread farther than I can travel. I am so glad people are embracing my book as the definitive guide for creating safer spaces. It gathers tons of information and stories and science to present the basics from a number of perspectives, in a non-academic and actionable way. Writing a book is hard, so of course I have no plans to do it again unless I have something solid to say. I am very happy to present this ideas as far and wide as I can for the time being. (If anyone wants to book me for an online training, visit shawnapotter.com)

Sorry to bring this up, but… How has coronavirus affected your band’s plans? Do you think it’s affecting womxn musicians more? If so, how? Well obviously all our tours for 2020 have been cancelled. That was a blow, but we’re dealing with it and readjusting. We all have to hustle and find work or get on unemployment, and that’s not very easy for us to do as a band, you know? So having to isolate physically means we have to work hard to not feel isolated emotionally. We are lucky that we were able to continue with our plans to record a new album, which helps us feel productive. If we couldn’t do that either, I think I’d be much more bummed out. I don’t know about which musicians are being affected more right now, I think any big bad event like this will always hit women, people of color, and other marginalized groups harder. A lot of touring musicians are freelancers with no job security or health care, so that’s really scary right now. Of course, right wing politicians will use any excuse to limit the power of the people and enhance their own, so pushing forth agendas to limit access to reproductive healthcare during the lock-down was just so outrageous. And as I’m writing this, protestors of police brutality are being targeted with state-sanctioned violence and police brutality. It’s hard to prioritize having our dumb little punk shows right now.

‘Pleasure and the Beast’ is one of my personal favourites of your song -, the lyrics blew my mind because they spoke to me so much and I recognized a lot of myself in that song. How do you balance writing from personal experiences with wider issues of gender and sexuality, as this song does? Unfortunately, women share so many sexist experiences! And even if we haven’t experienced something personally, I think we can relate to the general feelings of being dismissed or abused. When I write lyrics, I either can speak from personal experience, or the experiences of friends and family, or I approach an issue I’m interested in and learning about myself from a place of care and curiosity. I do my best to not speak for anyone, or over anyone, while still admitting “Hey this thing is fucked up, aren’t you angry too?”

Obviously, putting a womxn in the headline slot of Download Festival will not magically stop the patriarchy in its tracks. But it will make a difference to the music industry and to young girls growing up in need of more role models and encouragement to pick up instruments. What would it mean to you, if anything? And who would you pick if you could pick anyone? I would choose us, obviously! OK seriously, I don’t care who specifically headlines because I’m over here in the States and can’t attend unless I perform. What I do care about is representation. You can’t be what you can’t see. Booking more women, people of color, trans and gender non-conforming people, people with disabilities, and other marginalized groups is necessary at EVERY level of music. The sooner people see themselves represented on stage, the sooner they pick up an instrument and get to writing and performing, giving them more time to improve and get better and become the next headliner at Download. You know? Women can’t become huge headliners if they’re never given the opportunity!

Thank you so much Shawna! You can find links to War on Women’s socials down below, as well as a link to buy Shawna’s book about preventing harassment in public spaces. Also linked is our petition, as always, but ALSO a link to lots of resources which you can use to help the #BlackLivesMatter movement, which should and must take priority right now.

#BLACKLIVESMATTER resource list: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-0KC83vYfVQ-2freQveH43PWxuab2uWDEGolzrNoIks/mobilebasic?fbclid=IwAR0FlY3euYo5_guY82SH_mwv7xuMrtQBk-LUKjpqkEFzo2gQqNODojn6ZPM

Shawna’s book: https://www.akpress.org/making-spaces-safer-book.html and her website: https://shawnapotter.com/ (I didn’t know this when I interviewed her but I have JUST found out you can literally book her to do your wedding for you. Omfg.)

War on Women insta: https://www.instagram.com/waronwomen/ and twitter: https://twitter.com/WarOnWomxn and facebook: https://www.facebook.com/WarOnWomen

Our Insta: instagram.com/dlgrl2021 and facebook: facebook.com/dlgrl2021 or search #DLGRL2021 on Twitter.

OUR PETITION: https://www.change.org/p/get-a-woman-to-headline-download-festival

from EXCLUSIVE interview with Shawna from War on Women

[avaalons]

Chris Evans Fic: Disney Princess Series Part 7 (Audition)

Part 7 of the Disney Princess series. Links to all previous parts are, as always, in the masterlist linked in my bio :) Enjoy!

***

Auditions were going well, as well as they ever do. There were, of course, a significant number of auditionees that clearly weren’t right for the role but there were also some definite contenders and overall, Chris was feeling fairly positive.

The character of the wife was a tricky one: she was so complex and it would be easy to have her tarnished with the ‘bored housewife’ brush, but Chris wanted the actress that played her to bring a softness to her and for her potential affair story line to be empathised with rather than pitied.

‘Thanks so much, we’ll be in touch,’ Chris’ casting director, Ted, smiled at the last actress who had auditioned, who nodded with a hopeful expression and shook their hands before leaving.

‘She was good,’ Ted turned to Chris.

‘Yeah, she was. Callback pile?’

‘Agreed. So who have we got next?’

Chris moved the profile sheet from the previous actress as he picked up his glass for a sip of his water. He checked the one underneath to see who the next actress was and almost choked on his drink.

He barely had time to compose himself before you were shown into the room and then there you were in front of him, smiling, shaking hands and introducing yourself to Ted, who did the usual 'and I guess you know Chris…’ but he barely even noticed. You were a picture of professionalism and as you turned to take your place where you wanted to start the scene, Ted turned to Chris slightly with an eyebrow raised in question and Chris could do nothing but shrug his shoulders in bewilderment.

***

You knew you’d floored him and almost felt a tiny bit sorry for him as you watched Chris flounder in his seat. He was struggling to string a sentence together and you couldn’t help the smile that momentarily passed over your lips when you turned your back to take your spot.

You needed to change his mind about you. Yes, you did value your professionalism and your standing within the industry, but he needed to realise that you weren’t as meek and mild as he seemed to think. You were careful but you weren’t adverse to taking risks. And yes, he was a risk, being with him was a risk, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to take it. Being careful was only good if it wasn’t at the expense of your happiness.

So here you were, about to give the audition of your life, and it wasn’t even necessarily for the part.

***

Chris saw you transform before his very eyes. He knew you could do sentimental and he knew you could do action and drama, but what he saw from your audition was a whole new facet of your repertoire that he had never seen before. Real, deep, raw human emotion. You played the character with such a sense of hopeless disillusionment that it was clear exactly why she had gone down the path she had. You played her with a weariness of life experience that Chris really didn’t expect, as though she was far older than her age or appearance would give away.

He was mesmerised, like he’d discovered a whole new side to you he’d never known existed. There was nothing careful about your performance and there was no holding back. And he loved it.

Once you were done, Ted cast a glance at Chris with a surprised expression. Clearly he’d seen the same things Chris had in the audition piece and he was about to give you the usual, 'Thanks, we’ll be in touch’ line so you could leave and they could discuss your performance in private but Chris spoke before Ted got a chance.

'Do you mind… do you mind if I just have a word outside?’ Chris spoke tentatively to you, ignoring the confusion flitting across his co-worker’s face.

You nodded, face neutral, trying to keep your composure and you followed him when he left the room through a side door, not the main one you’d come through when it was time for your audition slot.

The adjoining room was very much like the one you had just come from, except it was slightly darker with no lights on. Chris closed the door softly behind you and stood with his hands in his pockets looking… well, quite nervous actually.

'Do you want this part?’ was his first question.

You paused for a moment, not expecting that to be the first thing he asked before stumbling over your words, 'I… well… it’s a great part Chris. The story is amazing. I cried when I read it. You’re going to do an incredible job with it.’

'Is that all you’re here for? I mean… I don’t want to sound… arrogant or anything but-’ Chris shrugged, his sentence trailing off before he took a deep breath and started again, 'I was going to call. Tonight. And ask you…’

He took a step forward just as you took a step towards him. There was less than a foot between you now.

'I didn’t let you decide for yourself,’ he settled on finally.

'I know,’ your voice was quiet but grew stronger and firmer as you explained yourself, 'You didn’t. And I came here today to show you… to show that I can take risks, that I’m not scared, that I value my career and my privacy and my professional standing, but not more than I value the really important things in life.’

'Like?’ Chris never took his gaze from you for a second.

'Like people, Chris. Relationships. You. You are important to me.’

You could see his mouth twitch slightly but he stayed quiet, sensing you had more you wanted to say.

'And I know that I can’t have this part - it would just be a step too far given the press from a few weeks ago and I’d never shake the nepotism rumours. But I needed to show you… I am capable of choosing for myself and you can’t undermine my choice because of some misguided attempt at protecting me. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself, and in the event I can’t do it… well, I pay a team of people to handle it for me. You’re not one of those people so you don’t get to decide on my behalf,’ you finished with a grin.

He properly smiled at that, letting it break across his face as he took another step closer, hands still in his pockets but only a breath’s space between your bodies. Your heart was hammering, the blood rushing in your ears, the adrenaline pumping at being finally able to say what you wanted to say: the culmination of weeks, months even, of holding back and bottling up.

'And what have you decided, sweetheart? What have you chosen?’ His voice was low and felt like a caress, but he wasn’t even touching you.

’You, you dumb ass, I’ve chosen you,’ and you reached up to hold his jaw between your palms and guide his mouth down to yours.

It was what you had wanted for so long, whether you had admitted it to yourself or not, that once you started you couldn’t stop. His arms held you tightly to his body, wrapped around your waist with his palms against the straight of your back, and your hands roamed, apparently not able to explore him fast enough. They were in his hair, smoothing down his shoulders, gripping his upper arms, back up to run your thumbs across his collar bones. And all the while, you kissed like your lives depended on it. Your stomach was somersaulting with the sheer pleasure of actually, finally kissing him, having his mouth on yours, and the excitement that you did it. You took exactly what you wanted and didn’t second guess it.

When you eventually started to pull back, Chris peppering kisses against your mouth and jaw, you had to take a minute to catch your breath, so on edge you had been all day.

'I don’t want to stop kissing you,’ Chris breathed against the skin of your neck.

'I know,’ was all you were able to say in agreement.

'But I’m at work.’

'I know,’ you said again breathily, your arms winding around his neck.

Chris chuckled, 'But we can go out tonight? On a date? And tomorrow, and Saturday, and Sunday and every day after that, if you want to.’

'Yes, to it all,’ you said definitively, kissing him again.

'I’m going to pick you up at your place at eight thirty, that okay?’ He pulled a hand up to brush your hair behind one of your ears and you leaned into his touch as you nodded in acceptance.

'I just… I’ve wanted to do that for so long, I don’t really know what to do with myself now,’ you grinned, looking up into his eyes.

'I know how you feel,’ he smiled back. 'Are you sure about this? I know some places we can go that are big on privacy but-’

'Don’t worry about it, Chris. People are going to say what they say. They’ll get bored eventually. You better get back to work. Ted is going to be wondering if he needs to find another director.’

Chris nodded but made no effort to move, his hands still cupping your jaw like he was holding a fragile artefact, like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him. You glowed under his gaze.

'I’m glad you came here today,’ he said, his awe threading through his voice, 'Your audition was fucking awesome and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased.’

You laughed and raised an eyebrow in wry humour, 'You are a little though. Remember what you said about me in the interview after we met on the red carpet the first time?’

'Don’t fucking remind me,’ he grinned, resting his forehead against yours.

'I remember one part particularly well,’ you whispered teasingly, 'Something about showing me how good not sleeping can be?’

You pulled out of his arms before he could respond and sauntered towards the door, turning back at the last second, palm resting on the door handle, 'I hope you meant that, Evans.’

And you left him there, jaw dropped open in disbelief, wondering how he’d managed to actually to win you over at all.

***

'Everything okay? She came back through, said it was nice to meet me and left,’ the casting agent gestured towards the main door that lead to the corridor.

Chris sat back down in his seat nonchalantly and picked up your profile document, looking at it for a moment before placing it on the 'no’ pile.

'Yup, everything’s fine,’ Chris replied quickly, 'She just doesn’t want to work on a project with someone she’s dating.’

Ted looked up in startled surprise, 'Oh, that’s a shame. Is she involved with someone on our cast or crew?’

'Yeah,' Chris looked down at his hands, hardly able to process the fucking awesome ten minutes he’d just had before throwing Ted the biggest shit-eating grin he’d ever given anyone in his life, 'Me.’

[latinalesbi]

There's a part of me that kinda hopes we don't get a season 6 because the show is almost unbearable now

I am conflicted. Any Stef and Lena I want whatever Teri and Sherri think is best for them. If they want the money, the job, then I hope they get it. If they don’t then I am sure that’s one of the things that comes into play as Peter said.

Anonymous said:                                                                      By the way Aaron is talking to Callie. It makes it seem like he only sees her as the girl who saves the world. He doesn't seem to believe in her when it comes to art. AJ does. I loved their talk.            

AJ doesn’t tell her what to do, he doesn’t want her to use lame excuses to not try something. And when she’s doing reckless thing he tells her. Aaron wants to control things, for whatever reason he thinks he know better for her.

Anonymous said:                                                                      So Stef is chaperoning the "prom" with Tess while Lena stays home?  What kind of dumb fuckery is this?  I'm sensing no Stef and Lena interaction ONCE again, and my interest has greatly waned in the season finale.  Son of a bitch.    

It’s such stupidity. I can’t even tell you. Do they really think that people want to tune into a season finale to see Tess and Stef hang out together? I just don’t know what to think anymore. I am happy I don’t watch live anymore. I would be too angry. I had a dream about the damn show: I was trying to watch it and something kept me from doing so. I caught one spoiler (Stef and Lena dancing) that made me determined to stay spoiler free. Eventually, I did start catching the episode and Stef was at prom but it was a bit more like a high school reunion, and it wasn’t about Tess. It was about how Stef felt in high school. She started to revert, feel what it was like for her in high school. And then I couldn’t watch the rest, but assume that Lena came in to help Stef worked through it, they danced and had a grand kiss. I am grateful that at least I got to “watch” this version of the show in my dream.

I hate that new sneak, when have they shown us that Stef is “so bothered” by Tess reiteration of her sexuality? I swear it’s such poor writing. This whole situation is so contrived that I am actually concerned they are going there.

Anonymous said:                                                                      I really hope they don't turn Aaron abusive. Callie would probably stay with him and keep getting abused. Then she would end up getting really hurt. It's common in abusive relationships because their too scared to leave.            

If they were going for realism they would. We know realism only applies to Stef and Lena. I think Callie will break it off before that though. I really need her to stop letting boys tell her to value herself.

Anonymous said:                                                                      It's looks like Stef might be arresting Ximena but I don't think it's what it seems like.    

Yeah, she’s probably saving her from ICE.

Anonymous said:                                                                      let's talk about how the fosters IG page shared ANOTHER picture of the mom's from that photo shoot 😍 i am so curious as to how many pictures were actually taken that day. they had outfit switches, there are so many different angles, i cannot. i of course love this one as well.. anytime they are holding each other it's just like butta (as teri says)     

This photo shoot has been the best gift. It has kept on giving. I thought they were done but nope, we got the most coupley picture they have ever taken! If only the show was as good. I think they had so many locations that they must have tons of pictures. Hopefully they’ll keep sharing through season 5b!

Anonymous said:                                                                      Do you know The Bold Type ? If so what do you think of it ... I mean if you can tell, since it's not The Fosters related. I remember one day someone asked Teri and Sherri if there were going to be steamy scenes between Stef and Lena, they laughed. Today I think that TBT is breaking with that double standard on Freeform. Of course Stef and Lena have been naked in bed but I still think it was well covered. And in TBT they don't seem afraid to make these girls kiss all the time.

Two things here, season 2 is very much in doubt for this show. The one girl isn’t a regular. Those things alone would keep me from jumping on this ship. I am fragile lol. I did watch it before the kids arrived. My wife is half-iranian so she very much liked the couple and was enjoying it. I am not a great fan but I am happy that there are so many couples to choose from. As far as the scene being more graphic than Stef and Lena, not really. I didn’t actually see much more in their scenes. The kissing is cause they’re a new couple. Also the show is on at 9 and the time slot does make a difference with censorship and what you can watch. One of the things I liked about Stef and Lena is that they were naked on top of each other. That’s pretty unusual.

Anonymous said:                                                                      I know you're busy with your family but I was wondering if you knew where I could view Teri's interview with Queen Latifha?          

I will upload it on my youtube today. As soon as I am on my home’s wifi.

[rockinthebeastmode]

Car Radio

A/N: I’m not sure what happened. I was listening to this song (for the millionth time because it’s one of my favorite songs EVER) and the S3 feels came over me and I just fucking banged this out in two hours. It’s a bit reminiscent of Dreaming of Revelry because there’s lyrics involved but it turned out better executed IMO. Hopefully. Hope you enjoy!

You can find my other fics here.

@mmfdfanfic @eveerez @i-dream-of-emus @lilaviolet @lau-vm @hey1tskat1e @tinakegg @kneekeyta @likeashootingstarfades @girl-looking-out-window @stinemarine @lurkernolonger @crystalgiddings1993

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list and if I missed anyone :)

Car Radio

I ponder of something great

Finn didn’t know if this was the best or worst idea he’d ever had.

He knew Rae didn’t hate him. Sure, she was upset. Why wouldn’t she be? He had cheated on her.

He had cheated on her with some rando that wasn’t even his type, someone who was open and available and filling his head with all this bullshit.

Bullshit like he was holding Rae back. Like she’d be better off leaving Stamford behind, leaving him behind. Like she didn’t love him enough to stay.

My lungs will fill and then deflate They fill with fire Exhale desire

Finn shook his head, dragging on his cigarette resolutely. He filled his lungs to bursting with smoke before letting it all go in a huge whoosh.

Katie was full of it, for sure. He knew that as soon as Rae had shown up at his place, wanting to make it work. Now, he had to take the initiative. Fix everything.

I know it's dire My time today

He went to look at his car radio for the time and cursed. Damn thing wasn’t even worth shit and someone still stole it. He checked his watch and nodded to himself, starting the car.

The drive to Bristol was only about 3 hours if he kept up speed. He sped off moments later.

I have these thoughts So often I ought To replace that slot With what I once bought 'Cause somebody stole My car radio And now I just sit in silence

*** Sometimes quiet is violent I find it hard to hide it

Finn had always been the quiet type. He always felt like he’d say the wrong thing or be completely misunderstood. That seemed to happen more often than not.

So many times, instead of talking, he’d fight and argue instead. Use his fists to prove a point.

He had so many fucking words in his head but he couldn’t get them to come out right. He reckoned if he’d just talked to Rae about how he was feeling, they could’ve talked everything out, figured out an alternative.

He had just been so pissed in the moment. She told him that fucking interview went to shit, there was no way she’d get in. Then BOOM, let’s celebrate, Finn, Rae’s off to uni and you’re stuck here.

My pride is no longer inside It's on my sleeve

He hated seeing her cry. But she did it! She lied to him. He was so heartbroken over that, he couldn’t look past to the truth--that she was just as freaked out as he was. She didn’t wanna leave him, right? Right?

My skin will scream Reminding me of Who I killed inside my dream

He still has dreams about that night. Like he’s standing on the sidelines as his older stupid dickhead self spews all this shit about her not loving him and needing a break and she’s crying and telling him to wait and finally, finally, he comes from the side, takes that older version’s place and pleads with Rae, begs her to reconsider their options. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t even realize he’s changed. He’s already driven away. Then he wakes up.

I hate this car that I'm driving There's no hiding for me I'm forced to deal with what I feel

The engine sputtered and he rolled his eyes as he changed gears, glancing darkly at the empty radio slot. Chop had offered to replace it once he saw it was gone but he reckoned this was his punishment. No music, no noise, no distractions. Just feeling everything instead of repressing it.

There is no distraction to mask what is real I could pull the steering wheel

What would he do if she turned him away? What would happen if he drove all this way and she said, “No, Finn, it’s over. I’m done with you.”?

He thought of what was left back home for him.

His dad worked more often than not. His Nan was dead. His mother was gone. His mates, well, they were moving on. Archie, Chloe and Izzy were all in school. Chop managed the garage now, had his hands full keeping that afloat.

If Rae wouldn’t take him back, he didn’t have a single fucking thing going for him.

I have these thoughts So often I ought To replace that slot With what I once bought 'Cause somebody stole My car radio And now I just sit in silence

***

I ponder of something terrifying 'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind

This silence was fucking deafening. He tried to keep his mind on the road in front of him but he was so used to music being in the background of every moment. The lack of music just reminded him that Rae wasn’t here.

He could pin so many moments of his time with Rae to music. Columbia for when he was just starting to fancy Rae. Slide Away for when they got back together. Fade Into You for when he hugged her, wrote I LOVE YOU.

No Surprises for when he left her behind for Leeds. Don’t Go Away for when she broke up with him.

Wonderwall for...well. For always.

I find over the course of our human existence One thing consists of consistence And it's that we're all battling fear

Finn realized now, after a few years of knowing Rae, that fear motivated a lot of her decisions. She was scared to ask him to stay and so he left for Leeds. She was afraid of what people might think of them together and broke up with him. She feared telling him how she felt about leaving Stamford.

He’d been guilty of the same. He’d been terrified she wouldn’t fancy him back so he bottled it, kept his feelings to himself until it all came tits up at her mum’s reception. He’d been scared to talk to her about her issues and so they became the one thing that tore them apart. He’d feared asking her to stay with him. Because what if he really was holding her back?

Oh dear, I don't know if we know why we're here Oh my, Too deep Please stop thinking I liked it better when my car had sound

God, this silence was driving him batty. All he could think about was every single minute they’d gone wrong and what he could’ve done to stop it. This all happened years ago, why was it still stinging today?

Maybe because they’d never fully dealt with everything. He remembered that night they’d gotten back together, finally made love for the first time. They’d chosen sex over talking, and while they had talked afterwards, did they really hash out everything? Was there something they missed?

There are things we can do But from the things that work there are only two And from the two that we choose to do Peace will win And fear will lose

He focused on the road, noting he was about halfway there. Had he really spent an hour agonizing over his relationship with Rae? No wonder they needed to bloody talk.

“What the sodding fuck am I gonna say when I get there?” he exclaimed out loud, his fingers shaking slightly against the wheel. He wanted another cigarette but he wasn’t very good at smoking and driving. He always ended up catching the cherry on the window or getting smoke in his eyes or losing grip on the wheel when trying to ash.

There was only one thing for it really. He’d go in, tell Rae to sit the fuck down and listen and he’d pour his heart out and list every goddamn thing he’d just went over in his head.

And if she still didn’t want him back, he’d pull out the big guns.

He’d tell her that he loved her. He’d tell her that he needed her. He’d tell her that he wanted her by his side.

He’d beg if he had to.

There's faith and there's sleep We need to pick one please because Faith is to be awake And to be awake is for us to think And for us to think is to be alive

He blasted the AC, cursing himself for driving this late. He’d worked all day and come home to an empty apartment and for what felt like the thousandth time, had thought to himself, I want her back, I need her.

Tonight had been different. He’d dropped to the couch and thought, What if I got her back?

What if I drove to Bristol? Just to visit. Just to make sure she’s okay. Just to tell her how I feel for once.

What if I left right now?

And I will try with every rhyme To come across like I am dying To let you know you need to try to think

If she didn’t feel the same, fine. He’d lost her twice now. He thought he could get through it again.

But he was dying without her. He was wasting away with the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t know the truth. She didn’t know he ached for her, needed her like fucking oxygen.

I have these thoughts So often I ought To replace that slot With what I once bought 'Cause somebody stole My car radio And now I just sit in silence

***

I ponder of something great My lungs will fill and then deflate They fill with fire Exhale desire I know it's dire My time today

Finn reached her dormitory at half past midnight, frantically smoking a rollie outside in the parking lot. It was late but he knew she’d be up. They’d been known for their late nights, whether with the gang or just each other. Even being alone now didn’t change that.

He flicked the butt away, wiping sweaty palms on his jeans. He took a deep breath, coughing slightly in the cool night air. He went into the building, repeating her room info like a mantra.

Room 3B. Room 3B. Room 3B.

He went to the lift, running a hand through his hair as it ascended to the third floor. He stared into the mirror on the side, pushing at his cheeks and eye circles, sighing at the state of his hair. His jeans were covered in oil stains and his flannel was wrinkled to shit. Oh fucking well. Maybe his disheveled appearance would work in his favor.

The elevator dinged open and he strode out onto the floor, looking both ways for B. He found it quickly, only a couple doors away from where he was standing. He bit his lip as he approached the door, holding his arms around himself. He took one more deep breath before he raised his hand to knock.

I have these thoughts So often I ought To replace that slot With what I once bought 'Cause somebody stole My car radio And now I just sit in silence

His breath was caught in his throat as Rae opened the door, giving him a look of shock at first. He exhaled in relief when a huge grin broke across her face. She rushed forward to hug him, almost knocking them both to the floor. He couldn’t help burying his face in her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. He noticed her doing the same and beamed, already feeling lighter.

“I was just thinking about you and here you are,” she whispered, still clinging to him. He nodded against her, pulling away to look in her eyes.

“Here I am.”