#me: okay so youre going to have a set number of chapters on the path

[superhaught]

Gym Class Heroes (Chapter Two)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: homophobia

Word Count: ~2300, Part 2/?

Part 1

Regina pursues her interest in protecting reader as she recovers from the basketball to the head.

Turns out, you did indeed have a mild concussion from the basketball incident, so you took the weekend and the following Monday off of school to rest and recuperate.

You were napping when your mom knocked lightly on your bedroom door and then came in. You woke up and saw that she had an armful of things.

“One of your school friends stopped by and brought your homework from today plus a card and some snacks, how sweet!”

You sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, “one of my friends? Do you know who?”

“Oh I don’t know, sweetheart. She was blonde and tall and pretty.”

You couldn’t help your face from lighting up, “gimme the card!”

Your mom handed you everything and you tore open the envelope. It was a simple “get well soon” card but what you were most interested in was the handwritten note. The writer’s penmanship was exquisite, not that you were particularly surprised by that fact. The card smelled like her perfume, as if she had spritzed some on. She’s unreal, you thought. Fragrant notes of orange blossom and rose filled your nostrils and it was addictive. 

The note read: Hey you, I hope you’re doing okay and aren’t too worried about getting behind on schoolwork. If you need help getting your homework done, I know a guy. Anyways, Shane got three days of suspension, which isn’t enough, imo. Text me if ur bored <3 R

She wrote her phone number at the end. You giggled and reread it in full, going as far as kicking your feet excitedly under your blankets. 

“She seems like a sweet girl,” your mom pointed out.

Her voice brought you back to reality. You cleared your throat, “mom, my head is kind of hurting, can I go back to sleep?”

“Oh yeah, of course honey! Get some rest.”

“Thank you,” you set the card down next to you and laid back down as your mom left and once she closed the door behind her, you grabbed your phone and began typing a message to Regina’s number. 

“Hey, ‘R’” you wrote. 

The message delivered and the little typing-indicator dots showed up right away, then her message back came through, “I’m glad you didn’t keep me waiting ;)” then she sent a second message, “how are you feeling?”

[Text Message Transcript: Reader: I’m feeling okay. I got a concussion like you thought, but I should be back tomorrow. Thank you for the snacks, btw. How did you know cheez-its are my fav? | Regina: My lips are sealed | Reader: You must have gone to a lot of effort to discover my favorite snacks and my home address… | Regina: It’s nothing someone with my social power can’t handle. | Reader: Well, I owe you. For this and for taking care of me yesterday. | Regina: You don’t owe a thing | Reader: Come on, you’ve gotta let me repay you somehow. | Regina: I won’t allow it | Reader: -_- | Regina: :P | seriously. don’t worry about it. | Reader: But why are you being so nice to me? | Regina: because | Reader: That isn’t an answer | Regina: must I have a reason?? | Reader: People usually do | Regina: cynical of you | I guess I feel bad. MY idiot ex gave you a concussion and was an asshole | also | I think ur cute | Reader: It’s not like you own him. | Regina: are you just gonna ignore that last part | Reader: I was getting there! how do you type so fast when you have acrylics?? | Regina: ... | i blame your concussed brain | Reader: You thought about making a dirty joke, didn't you? | Regina: no | maybe | Reader: So... you think I'm cute? | Regina: Not anymore. I take it back because you embarrassed me. | Reader: No take backsies | Regina: Well now I really take it back because that was dumb | Reader: I don't believe you! | Regina: good | you're going to have to see through my bitch act if we keep going along this path | Reader: "if we keep going along this path" meaning...? | Regina: meaning... if you let me take you out on a date | when you're all recovered of course | Reader: Like... a date date? | Regina: yeah dumbass | what other kind is there?| Reader: Sorry!! I've just... never been asked out before | Regina: okay well... I am asking you out | End of transcript]

Being stunned, you didn’t respond to Regina’s text right away. Your heart was pounding. You couldn’t believe that Regina, the queen bee of the school, the most popular girl, the previously-believed-to-be-completely-and-totally-straight-girl, was asking you out. 

Another text from her popped up, “well don’t leave me hanging”

You decided that you wanted to call her. Maybe you felt like you needed to in order to confirm that this was actually real. You called and it rang twice and then you heard her voice through the phone.

She chuckled as she spoke, “hi…”

“Hi…” you said back, suddenly forgetting what words were. 

“What did you want to say that couldn’t have been sent over text?”

“I just… you really want to date me?”

“Yes. I do. Is that really so shocking?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Well listen, I’ve had my eye on you for a while now. And, as I’m sure you are aware, I’m used to getting what I want.”

You shuddered and then replied, “Regina… I’d love to go out with you.”

The two of you continued to talk on the phone well into the night. It was Regina who insisted that you hang up and go to bed to get some good sleep before coming to school tomorrow. The blonde also offered to pick you up in the morning and drive you to school herself. You, of course, accepted. 

You went to sleep feeling lighter than air. 

In the morning, you got ready for school with more zeal than you ever had in your life. Your mother wondered out loud whether you had been replaced overnight by an entirely different person. You just smiled and said that you were happy and feeling better. 

There was a car horn honk from your driveway and your mom kissed your cheek goodbye as you left your home. 

Regina was sitting in her black Jeep, using her mirror to fix her hair. She smiled at you as you came out of your house and approached the passenger side of her car. She leaned and reached over, cracking the door open for you and then offering you her hand to hold as you stepped up into the car.

You sat down and tossed your backpack into the backseat. 

She smiled again, looking you over, “you look so cute!” Regina then gently caressed her thumb over the bruise on your forehead from the basketball, “and this is looking much better.”

You looked her up and down as well and smiled, “you look incredible…”

“Thanks, baby.” 

She had called you ‘baby’ on the phone the night before as well. The affection made your heart flutter.

She continued, “get buckled, let’s go.”

Regina drove you both to school and parked in her spot in the student lot. It wasn’t an assigned parking spot or anything, it was just the closest spot to her preferred entrance and it was hers by way of having scolded anyone who had ever dared to park there.

When you got out of the car, Regina walked over to you and took your hand in hers. 

Surprised, you said, “you know, we haven’t actually gone out yet…”

“I know that. Do you mind if I hold your hand anyway? Do I have to wait before I can show you off?”

“I don’t mind,” you smiled. 

Regina walked you into the school and immediately, all eyes were on the two of you. You half expected Regina to drop your hand but she didn’t. You glanced over at her and she was proud. Beaming even. 

She squeezed your hand a little tighter and looked at you, “you okay?”

You nodded your head, “I am.”

Regina went with you to your locker and leaned against the adjacent locker while you put your backpack away. Then Regina noticed that you had a small magnetic mirror in your locker and she came up behind you and wrapped her arms around you from behind and looked into the mirror.

“We look good together, don’t we?”

You looked at the image in the mirror and thought she was right. With her bright blonde locks draped over your shoulders, her manicured fingers touching your neck, her cheek pressed against yours, it was a dream come true. 

“It’s way too easy for me to get lost in you…”

“I feel the same way, baby.”

At that point, Gretchen and Karen approached, locating Regina as if they had a homing beacon to her. Gretchen flashed you a polite smile and said, “you look mostly recovered!”

Karen stared at you with wide eyes and said, “don’t worry, I’ve been knocked out by a basketball too! It happens to everyone.”

You thought about objecting to her statement in some way but then you just nodded. 

Regina grabbed your hand again and touched your cheek, turning you to face her, “you’ll sit with us at lunch, right?”

“Oh sure! If you want me to…”

“Of course, silly! Well, you know where to find me, then. I’ll see you later.” Regina pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly against her chest. And for the first time in your life, you felt genuinely wanted.

The next two days went by fast. Regina took over driving you to and from school and your mom thanked her profusely for giving her a break. You joined Regina, Gretchen and Karen for lunch, sometimes you were also joined by Cady, Janis and Damien, now that things had gotten less tense between those two trios in the aftermath of the junior year dramatics. 

Regina was extremely attentive to you. You naturally fell into habits of taking care of each other, Regina looking out for you as you continued to recover from your concussion, and you paying attention to her chronic pain flare ups and making sure she was monitoring her POTS symptoms. 

You and Regina agreed to go on your first official date together that weekend, but she certainly was not hesitating to claim you as hers in the meantime. In those 48 hours, there was already an instagram and twitter account dedicated to shipping the two of you and you overheard a lot of talk about your sudden closeness and Regina’s obvious protection over you. 

It all came to a head the day that Shane Oman was back at school.

At lunch, Regina showed up to the table a few minutes later than what was typical for her, and she was dragging Shane by his shirtsleeve until she shoved him right in front of you. 

You set your lunch down and looked at him, then Regina, who shoved him again and said, “well, go ahead.”

Shane rolled his eyes, “fine… I’m sorry…”

Regina’s arms were crossed but she smirked a little, clearly proud of herself. 

“Sorry that you’re a disgusting fucking carpetmuncher!” Shane finished, yelling loud enough for the entire cafeteria to hear and immediately cease their conversations, turning all of their attention to your table. 

Gretchen covered her own mouth in shock. Janis and Damien's jaws both dropped open. Karen was staring at something on the ceiling. Cady whispered “oh my gosh” under her breath. 

You just froze and stared. 

Regina lurched forward and gripped the back of Shane’s shirt collar, pulling him backwards by it in a swift motion and basically choking him with the fabric, “what the fuck did you just say?” she growled.

Shane coughed, “I… I… said… carpetmuncher… and I’m not sorry… and I don’t believe for one second… that you’re falling for this… this… dyke!”

“Oh? You don’t?” Regina pushed Shane down to the ground and he collapsed to his knees and rubbed his neck as Regina let him go. Regina walked over to you and took your face in her hands. One second, her face was red with fury, but when she looked down at you, she immediately softened. She pulled you close to her and then pressed her lips to yours.

It wasn’t how you imagined how your first kiss with Regina would have gone, but you wouldn’t have changed anything about it. 

She kissed you so tenderly. Your senses were completely overwhelmed by the softness of her lips, the taste of her lip gloss, the smell of her hair, the feel of her tongue just teasing your bottom lip. Regina held the kiss for a long time and you held her waist. 

You knew everyone’s eyes (and cameras) were on you, but you couldn’t have cared less. You had Regina, and that’s all that mattered. 

When Regina pulled away, she kept eye contact with you for a moment and smiled, assuring you that she kissed you because she wanted to, not just to prove a point. She came back to give you one more quick and gentle kiss before returning her attention to the pathetic man on the ground. 

“Next time you want to say anything derogatory to my baby here, you better be fucking prepared to say it to me, too, Shane. And I don’t think I need to spell out the absolute shithole you will find yourself in if you do that.” 

Shane stared at her with wide, terrified, eyes.

“Now get the fuck out of my sight.” Regina added. 

Shane scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of the cafeteria as Regina took her seat next to you with closed eyes and exhaled a breath through her nose to calm herself.

You leaned your head on her shoulder and whispered, “thank you, Gina.”

She turned her head and kissed your temple, “of course, baby.”

[lilacgaby]

02 | ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ᴍᴇ

~2.2k

chapter select!

[name] eyes him oddly after his confession. "you despise your father so much, that you'd marry a witch just to spite him?"

"yes."

"what-- this is unhinged prince!"

"i'm well aware. but, i promise your life will be a luxury. anything you'd want whenever you pleased. all i wish is for the kingdom's reputation to change, and for the people in it to prosper. but, marrying a princess isn't enough you see, i need someone who'd upset him, who'd force his hands."

"force his hand how?"

"you're a powerful witch, that in itself would upset him. also, when we'd wed, there'd have to be a coronation of sorts first. that's when i plan to make my move, and banish him from the land."

"so, just getting him off the throne isn't enough."

todoroki sighed, flipping his hair out his face as he continued to explain. "no, i'm afraid. if i want to achieve my goal, i would need a complete and utter renovation of the kingdom's proceedings. my father would never allow it."

she hummed, picked up the things she dropped, and squinted her eyes in suspicion. "so, you're saying id get to live as a queen for the rest of my life, with nothing in return?"

"that is exactly what i am saying."

"and what if i refuse."

"well, id do nothing. id marry a princess from another land and would be moved to rule over there. leaving this place in ruins, with a tyrant still at the helm."

[name] sighed heavily. this was a to think about. but, after a moment of reflection, and thinking of the good life the villages would lead if this succeeded, she finally said something "okay, im in, but i have conditions!"

"obviously, please do tell." he said, leaning up against his horse.

she crossed her arms. "i want to be able to continue practicing my magic. and i want the effects of our marriage to be seen in this town immediately."

he raised an eyebrow. "that's all?"

she nodded. "yes, just treat my town nicely."

he sauntered over to her, lighting grabbing her hand that wasn't holding the basket, and kissed it lightly.

"well, then, thank you for your help, future queen." he brought her hand down and stayed holding it as he guided her over to his horse. "do you have any belongings? i can send a guard of mine to go pick them up for you."

"oh, yes i do! most of it is packed up anyways, so it'd really be a great help."

he signaled to the red-haired knight, who promptly picked up the boxes and set them in the cart behind his horse, along with the basket she'd held earlier. inside the cart, there was also a number of remedies that were addressed for the current queen.

before todoroki helped her onto the horse, she wrote a note addressed to her three friends that explained her situation. she promised to write to them frequently in the note as well, and asked them to do the same.

after, she ran quickly, stuck it on the tavern door, and dashed away back to the horse. todoroki helped her onto the back of it, climbed on it himself, and set her arms onto his waist for security.

"hold on." he said, before telling his horse, aptly named snowflake because of it's shimmering white color, to start galloping.

the sun was going down, but the time wasn't what she was focused on at the moment.

what occupied her thoughts was the huge, glamourous castle that was coming up in the distance. banners of blue surrounded the area announcing the kingdom's claim, as a large gate encapsulated it all.

the greenery complimented the fencing, moss and vines were tastefully grown around, as well as blossoming flowers and breathtaking types of trees she'd never seen before.

her breath was taken away as they grew closer and closer, every building, brick, and path was put together with more thought than her entire town.

she was so caught up in it, that she didn't even realize todoroki was speaking to her.

"[name], hey [name]?"

"oh, sorry todoroki, i was just.. looking at everything. it's really gorgeous."

"you may call me shoto from now on. and, yes it is quite beautiful. would you like to know the best part?"

"what?"

"you and i will own all of this soon."

her eyes sparkled at the realization. this would all be theirs to maintain and uphold, to spread to the rest of the kingdom.

to her town.

"that is very cool."

"cool? but it's quite hot outside."

"oh! it's village slang, for uh.. amazing."

"oh, okay." he pondered thoughtfully, looking back at her for a brief moment. "you'll have to teach me more then, i'd like to get to know you better.

after all, we will be married soon."

she flushed at that. "yeah, we'll get to know eachother well soon enough."

after they passed through the gate, with the attendants bowing at todoroki and her as they passed though, she decided to ask him what exactly would happen before the coronation. "so, shoto? what will we be doing before your plan comes to fruition."

"oh, we're going to spend about a month together testing our compatibility. it's tradition."

she felt the air leave her lungs. a month? she had a month to convince some randoms she didn't even know that she deserved to marry a prince?

"you couldn't have told me that earlier?"

"you never asked."

"that was rhetorical. just, who do i have to convince anyways? is it you?"

"yes, but also my family. don't worry though, i think my siblings will enjoy your company. my father though, he won't.

and that's what i'm betting on."

"thanks shoto."

"you're welcome." he said, not catching her sarcasm."

the rest of the ride was silent as she leaned against him, admiring the lives of the nobles. they all seemed so carefree, girls walking around in their fancy gowns, carrying satchels full of gold to spend. boys, carrying satchels of gold and using them to play games. the older folk, who lazed around, not lifting a finger. it was peaceful here,

she wanted that for the people back home.

when they finally reached the castle doors, shoto got off the horse first, then gently lifted her down. an attendant came quickly to take snowflake to their barn, and the red-haired knight was quickly dismissed.

as they walked inside, she immediately felt out of place. although her outfit was considered high-class back at the tavern,

here she swore she saw similar fabric used for the one of the dogs' rug.

the pristine atmosphere was set off by the odd feeling of tenseness that washed over shoto, and as they entered the dining hall, she soon realized why.

king enji todoroki, was a tyrant in his very own home.

the much smaller throne next to him at the dinner table was empty, but other chairs that were awkwardly spaced out considering the width of the table were filled by three siblings, each looking less happy to be there than the last.

she grabbed his hand, as if in support. the king's eyes glared at her at the motion.

"what is the meaning of these? why would you dare bring a peasant into our home shoto?"

"father, i'm marrying her."

as the king choked on his own spit, his siblings all took the initiative to look at her. the only one with black hair suddenly spoke, "way to rip off the bandaid shoto."

"you cannot be serious shoto, we've spoken about your idiotic actions, but this is too far!" the king spat, his eyes crazed as he slammed his chalice full of wine on the table.

"i am serious, i will announce it on my eighteenth birthday, and we will be wed a month after."

"you--"

"that's so sweet shoto. i'm happy for you." his sister cut in, smiling despite the harsh atmosphere.

"you take after touya! each of you serve to annoy me, why can't you just marry who i choose? a respectable princess, and not this-- this swine!" the king slammed the table once again.

"that's enough father," the white-haired boy spoke. "shoto made his choice, during the trial period we can find out this girls character."

the king took a drink of wine as if to calm himself. "yes, there's no way a peasant such as that will gain the full interest of shoto. he'll boot her out in a week."

"oh, and another thing. she's a witch."

the black-haired brother started laughing, as the kings veins almost popped out of his head.

"she's a what?"

"a witch?"

"she's to be executed as all witches are! i know she's not working here! are you trying to murder me shoto?!"

"well, you can't execute her now. if shes shotos fiance, technically she's servicing the royals, and can be kept alive, according to your own rules father."

"correct fuyumi. father, please calm down, maybe this is a turn for the better. witches used to be our main element before that law was put into place, and besides, maybe she can assist mother."

[name] swore the king, for a split second, put on a face of disgust at the mention of the queen, but quickly hid it.

"i.. suppose so. witch, heed my warnings. i do not respect you, i do not like you, and if any action you take is to conspire against me, i will strike you down myself." the king said, before dramatically leaving.

after they were sure he was out of earshot, they each commented on her. "way to go brother, i don't know what you're planning, but you sure pissed him off. now, introduce that fiance of yours officially already." the scarred man complimented.

"oh, of course. this is [name], she's a village witch i've been seeing for a while." he lied.

"hello [name], it's amazing to meet you! i'm fuyumi, i rule a territory out in the west."

"greetings [name], i am natsuo, its a pleasure. i rule a territory out in the east."

"hey witch, im dabi officially, but when you become a royal, ill let you call me touya. i rule up in the north."

"nice to meet you all." [name] said, bowing to them.

"there's no need for that, you'll be joining this family soon enough." natsuo commented.

"yes, please treat us casually. now, care to explain how you and shoto met?"

[name] froze, crap. she needed her story to match up with shoto's-

"can't you see they're tired from their travels fuyumi? let's just question the hell out of 'em tomorrow."

"touya! language! but i suppose you're right."

"i always am." he shrugged. "you two love birds go huddle up for the night, we'll be here for majority of this month, so we got plenty of time to question these two."

"yes, please go rest."

"okay, i'll see you all tomorrow." shoto said, before gently guiding her out the room.

"you'll have to teach me your slang quicker than i thought, i didn't understand a lick of what my brother spoke back there."

"ah, of course shoto. but, where will i be staying?"

"in our room of course."

"what-"

"this month, even though it doesn't start officially til' my birthday, is about testing our compatibility. my parent's marriage is very.. complicated. i don't want to become like them, so i feel we should start act with the normal acts now, like laying together."

"oh, of course shoto. that makes sense."

"unless you'd rather not sleep with me-"

"no, no that's not it at all!" she said, waving her hands around frantically. "i was just surprised is all."

"ah, okay. well, here we are."

they entered a luxurious room as big as her house, a large bed covered in silk sheets and pure cotton cloths was the centerpiece to it all, with a chandelier and furs on the floor just to match with it all.

yeah, she was definitely out of her element here.

she was then guided to the bathroom, which was the size of an entire bathhouse. a large tub, with real gold installed on it, was matched by glamourous sinks and showers.

"i've prepared some sleepwear for you to adorn to sleep."

"thank you shoto, this is just-- crazy."

"uh.."

"it's in a good way."

"okay, well i'll leave you too it."

she had the best shower of her life, treating herself to the expensive soaps and rags at her disposal. the real heaven on earth was how she felt when she slipped into her silk robes, she had never felt anything so soft.

until she laid in the bed, which was the real most comfortable thing she'd ever been in. shoto joined her soon after, and took the initiative to pull her into a hug.

she relaxed into it, and wrapped her arms around him as well.

they fell asleep holding eachother, and the whole time she thought about how natsuo was right.

maybe her presence here was a turn for the better.

prev | next!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HOW I WOULD’VE WRITTEN YUKIMIYA AND KUNIGAMI

i made a silly post last night about something i would’ve done differently in the neo egoist league and it inspired me to finally make a proper post explaining how i, personally, would’ve written yukimiya and kunigami specifically, given that the both of them are currently suffering from benched-character-syndrome (that’s not a real thing, i just made it up, but i’m sure you all can figure out what it means)

disclaimer before i start: this is MY OPINION and just one way that things could be done differently — i’m not saying that this way is better or worse (on the whole i actually have been enjoying kaneshiro’s decisions so this is definitely not hate), it’s just a different perspective!! i will be cutting many characters in the course of this explanation, including some fan-favorites ones, but don’t take that personally, because for the most part, it doesn’t mean i hate them 😩 in fact i typically like most of them, this is just from a writing perspective ☝🏻

disclaimer two: i am not a professional writer or mangaka or anything — i’m literally typing this while eating a rice bowl at my kitchen counter!! so don’t expect peak fiction and DO expect plenty of typos…i also don’t know how the manga is going to go and this could be rendered completely obsolete (writing this as of chapter 276) in like an arc or so 😓 please don’t come in my notes and call me stupid or say i have zero reading comprehension or whatever other insult you feel inspired to come up with (i know some of y’all like to tussle 😰), put that energy into making your own post or ignoring me or whatever brings you peace and joy 🥰

OKAY now that that’s over with we can finally get started!! LMAO sorry for the lengthy disclaimers i’m scared of some people in fandom tbh because some of the notes i’ve seen on my mutuals’ posts/some of the fandoms i’ve been in in the past…anyways…

@sharkissm here’s the post i promised you!!

YUKIMIYA KENYU

poor yuki…he went from number 5 in blue lock to a literal random in bastard münchen?? okay maybe not quite RANDOM but he’s approaching that status 😓 it feels as though the character he was set up to become in the third selection and u20 arcs is not the same as the character he became in the NEL arc both in terms of worldview and play-style!! so to begin with, i’d make some heavy adjustments to his backstory in order to explain away some of those discrepancies in a more consistent manner

as we know, yuki had a pretty good childhood, all things considered — much more in line with the isagis of the world than, say, bachira, and not to mention kaiser. well, the first thing i’m going to do is take that away from him completely!! instead of having an idyllic childhood where he’s incredibly perfect, i want him to be from a “bad” area of japan. of course, both in real life and in blue lock, japan does not have any crazily horrible terrible areas, but all countries have their sketchier parts, and i want yukimiya to be born in one of those. he lives his childhood as an absolute MENACE and is the kid that adults hate to see coming. his parents work a lot, so as much as they love him and try to raise him as best as they can, they’re not there to correct him 100% of the time, so he kinda just runs roughshod and does whatever the hell he wants. in his light novel, it’s mentioned that he learns to play soccer with this old man and his dog, and i’m actually not going to take that aspect away from him completely because it’s cute, but i will change the context a bit; instead of it being a chance encounter, the old man actually seeks yukimiya out and asks to teach him soccer. maybe his son went down a similar path that yukimiya has begun down and while he can no longer save his son, he at least wants to help yuki out and channel his energy into something more productive, hence soccer!!

after learning soccer from the old man and his dog, yukimiya begins to play it on the streets with some of the other local kids (who are just glad he’s not being a bully anymore and are happy to play along) which is the beginning of the development of his street-style dribbling (in reference to that majestic ass panel of him in the u20 game that was like hardly ever referenced again) as well as his dominance as the one-on-one king. he’s basically undefeatable, and this leads to something of a superiority complex in that he is firmly convinced that he is the protagonist, he is the one that the universe favors, and he absolutely cannot and will not lose and nothing bad can ever happen to him. he continues to be an asshole in general and is still the kind of guy that your parents would tell you to stay the hell away from, however!!

things change when his eyesight starts deteriorating. he goes to the doctor, and that’s when it’s revealed that he has this eye disease (is it even named in canon?? idk i’m just going to call it eye disease) and he might eventually go blind. that night when he leaves the doctor, it’s pretty much in despair, because soccer is the only thing that makes him happy given how miserable his surroundings are (again, there’s obviously many countries and places that have it way worse, but for young yukimiya who is comparing it to the rest of japan, it’s not that great) and he feels like he’ll now be stuck in the same cycle that his parents are caught in. on the way home, he sees one of those religious billboards that’s all like “god will always forgive you” and since he’s at one of the lowest points of his life thus far, he decides that he’s going to become religious because this blindness/disease must be a punishment from god for the things he’s done.

soon after, he’s walking home from school or something random (this is meant to be an extreme coincidence given the situation) and is scouted to be a model. this reaffirms his conviction that his conduct thus far is wrong and that if he ever wants to escape and live the good life that he dreams of, he has to abide by god’s rules and follow his ways. he gets into modeling and makes enough money that he and his family can move to a better part of the country, where he begins to play soccer for his new high school and is quickly recognized for his skill/talent. through this process, he learns how to be incredibly polite, kind, and altruistic, because he’s already been “punished” once and doesn’t want to face it again…he also wants to prove that he is better now and deserves this new life of his as much as if he had born to it + he doesn’t ever want to go back to where he used to be!!

what this backstory change accomplishes: it explains the street soccer panel in a more satisfying way, and it also gives a reason for why yuki is so kind in the 3rd selection/u-20 match and then suddenly becomes incredibly selfish in the NEL — instead of it just being explained away as ego, it shows how blue lock manages to draw out the worst aspects of one’s personality via competition, because yukimiya, who has worked so hard to be good and kind, reverts to his childhood personality almost instantly under isagi’s pressure!! it also explains why yuki’s so quick to just go back to being chill, as he probably feels guilty that he let himself slip like that and doubles down on being a “good person”

now as for the actual games this is where i think i will make the most people mad BUT i would’ve gotten rid of kurona and had yukimiya replace him!! to be honest as much as i do like kurona, he was very very randomly dropped in (i literally thought i had missed the manga panel introducing him because his actual first speaking appearance was so out of the blue) and there were already established characters that could’ve taken that role (ex. yukimiya). i would’ve sent kurona (and honestly probably kiyora) over to barcha because they likely would’ve gotten along well with bachira and otoya plus their passing skills could’ve made barcha a stronger team!! this also serves to isolate isagi more and gives him literally no one but hiori on his side — in this scenario, i want yukimiya to be SO altruistic (as per the backstory change) that he will pass to anyone, just as long as that’s what’s best for the team (the “greater good”). if yukimiya stays the 1v1 emperor, this also adds another dynamic to the kaisagi rivalry as well as possibly adding a ness vs hiori dynamic because that would mean that more often than not, yukimiya would have the ball, and he’s the one who they will rely on to break through the defense before passing to one of the other midfielders (ness, hiori) or going straight to one of the strikers (kaiser, isagi) (yes i know there’s only one striker on a team but YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN). this version of yukimiya could also have a very interesting dynamic with kaiser as both of them come from somewhat similar backgrounds (obviously kaiser is worse but there are similarities) however kaiser forsakes everyone in order to view himself as a god, or god’s chosen one, whereas yukimiya once believed himself to be that but has now forsaken that aspect of his ego in order to place his beliefs in others and in a higher being. this means kaiser could also be a method of awakening yukimiya (giving him interactions with more of the team than just isagi) where his selfishness makes yukimiya realize that if he wants to survive and continue dominating on the field as the 1v1 emperor, he also has to be a little more selfish (a leader instead of just a follower), allowing him to settle into a blend of his new personality and his childhood one, where he’s still kind and agreeable but also a little bossy and much more assertive/willing to score his own goals even if it’s not necessarily for the greater good 100% of the time

what this new role accomplishes: it allows yukimiya to have much MUCH more play time as he deserves given the hype built up for him during the third selection (he was ranked higher than NAGI, which yes it was in the second selection but second selection nagi was a beast so that says something about yuki for sure [as well as karasu and otoya but we’re not talking about them atm]), it gives us a smaller cast to work with on bm (because at the moment there are just too many blue lockers getting random backstories and doing one thing in a game before ghosting and honestly if all of their individual contributions were consolidated into one character, in this case yukimiya, it would make that one character much stronger as well as taking away the plotsagi accusations as now isagi isn’t the only one consistently doing things in games) and allows us to get much more attached/involved with the stakes of the games, and it gives kaiser dynamics with the rest of bastard münchen instead of just isagi, which fleshes him out a bit more as well

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

i’m sure this is what most of you are reading for (although i hope you went through the yukimiya part and enjoyed it as well!!) and trust i have come to deliver because i have many thoughts about kunigami…my biggest gripe is that his return from the wildcard was so built up and then the narrative treated it as so utterly unimportant (why do literally none of the characters gaf??? like there were a couple of panels touching on it but nowhere near the significance it shoudl’ve been given) that the readers themselves have zero stakes in it!! like if isagi, who considered kunigami a fairly good friend as far as blue lock goes, barely questions why his friend is so different now, then why should we as readers care either?? now, if/when the wildcard reveals are done, they will MOST LIKELY not have the same impact that they could’ve if kunigami as a character was treated differently in the narrative (again, maybe this will change and there will be something that makes the punch of it still hit just as hard, but as of the moment i’m writing this post, i don’t feel that that will happen)

there’s two routes that i could see kunigami taking, and both of them involve kicking out some fan favorite characters (again) but in the first case it’s only temporary!! i’ll go through the first one and then the second one and cover my ears as the bm fans yell at me for axing kaiser and ness

that’s right, route one involves getting rid of kaiser and (most likely) ness entirely!! i am actually of the firm belief that the ng11s (specifically kaiser and lorenzo) were introduced too early. people legitimately think lorenzo is a bad player just because ubers lost vs bm even though kaiser himself had difficulties when lorenzo was covering him…in my opinion the ng11s should’ve been kept as a mysterious entity whose only representative we see is sae itoshi (for narrative reasons) until the u-20 world cup, where ng11s randomly show up in some of the matches to raise the stakes and allow individual blue lockers to confront their demons/weakness and develop further (for example, in a game against, say, the italian u-20 team, maybe shidou learns how to break through a defensive set up with lorenzo at the center?? and that particular match is the ‘shidou match’ random example because idek if shidou’s built like that but you get the gist). i honestly don’t even mind kaiser being there as much because at least he’s doing stuff and still feels like he’s on another level but lorenzo shouldn’t have been shown until later — anything he does, aiku could’ve accomplished and that also would’ve built the rivalry between him and barou that was hinted at in barou’s ln…but anyways my thoughts on aiku can be a separate post because i have digressed!! back to kunigami

in this version, i want him to be isagi’s main rival instead of kaiser, who’s not here at all. make his new ego so obsessed with scoring goals that he cannot fathom anyone else doing it. whatever wildcard did fucked him up so badly that he is absolutely TERRIFIED of returning, so even if it makes the team lose, even if it makes him an asshole, he will do anything to score and prove himself as “useful” to the team so that, even in the worst-case scenario, he’s the one being chosen instead of anyone else (the way reo was chosen over him). this also creates a much deeper rivalry than just “who gets to be the star of the team” as it’s rooted in kunigami’s insecurity and fear of wtvr the fuck was going on in wildcard. this also builds wildcard up as something much more terrifying than it has been so far in canon, because when you think about it it MUST have been horrible and that’s gone somewhat unacknowledged except for brief hints and glimpses, and it also adds a legal/moral/ethical dilemma — because obviously wildcard WORKS, kunigami is the proof of it (as isagi’s main rival, he’s scoring all of the goals that kaiser did, so he’s obviously eating it up), but is it sustainable?? is it something that they can do en masse?? because there’s no question that it’s destroyed kunigami completely, so is it even worth it?? or is it one of those things that you think is worth it when you start (the way kunigami must’ve) but afterwards you regret entirely??

however, given the importance that kaiser has to the NEL (he’s kind of the face of it to be honest), as well as how many fans he has, i can totally understand leaving him in, so i have another option, which i also really like. in this route, i want to use kunigami to replace ness — which doesn’t make sense at first i know but hear me out!! ness hasn’t contributed enough to the plot (besides his dynamic w kaiser ig) for me to feel bad about kicking him out honestly and that’s one less character on the main cast that we have to care about, allowing for more depth to the characters that DO exist. in this scenario, kaiser’s in a loki-esque situation, where all he needs to get that coveted re al offer is someone with the crazy strength to push through players like lorenzo (we’ve seen kaiser struggling with defense before, and as barou says in second selection, kunigami has the build to hold the ball up at the top of the field)…enter kunigami, who’s very obviously a prime candidate for this, and kaiser POUNCES!! he thinks he’s going to have to convince kuni to take his side instead of isagi’s, but surprisingly, kunigami very readily agrees to it. this is because in this route, kunigami resents the blue lockers, including isagi, because while he was effectively being tortured, they were being lauded with praise and shown on live tv as celebrities and whatnot. they never suffered in the way he did, and although he does believe that wildcard was necessary for him to evolve (not a healthy mindset but the one drilled into him), he still wishes the rest had endured what he did, because it scarred him so much that he almost cannot handle knowing that he went through it alone while the others were enjoying themselves (comparatively)?? so he teams up with kaiser and is actively working against his old friends (for maximum effect add in reminders/callbacks to the team z days to give extra angst to the “betrayal”)…it would also be very fun to juxtapose kunigami’s and kaiser’s backstories here, as kunigami had a good life that was ruined by soccer, whereas kaiser had a shitty life that was saved by soccer, and this could definitely come through in their particular brands of desperation while playing!!

now, there’s plenty of theories floating around that ness will assist isagi in scoring the final point against pxg (now that IGAGURI is in for some reason idk if that’s still a likely outcome but i can def see it happening) however my counter-point is don’t have kunigami assist isagi with the two-gun volley…give that to yukimiya (given he’s a character like i outlined previously) or even hiori, and instead have kunigami pay isagi back for the half of the steak (therefore acknowledging their past and old friendship for the first time since his return) by passing him the ball instead of kaiser, the way everyone expected/was covering for. this allows isagi to still score the final goal against pxg while giving it more of an emotional meaning than just “oh isagi has to win because he’s the main character”

alternatively, if pxg is meant to win, then i would leave the two-gun volley as it is, but i would just make it so that the setup is still kunigami choosing isagi over kaiser and acknowledging their old friendship, and i would make a bigger deal out of the pass since the build up is different!! i also wouldn’t have noa tell kunigami to manmark shidou the entire time…instead i would make kunigami obsessed with shidou in the BEGINNING of the game, but i would have kaiser/isagi/noel noa yell at him for this obsession and remind him that the objective is winning, not revenge, so he’s still active in the game instead of just being stuck on babysitting shidou duty (this role could be given to yukimiya actually, again given that he’s written as i stated previously, as he’s the 1v1 emperor so he has enough of the physicality to accomplish that and keep the ball away from shidou if it gets near him, and he’s already done enough in the previous games that it’s alright for him to take a bit more of a backseat especially after two-gun volley)

as a footnote, EITHER route you like, there’s one thing that was absolutely a missed opportunity which i’d like to focus on, and that’s kunigami’s dynamic with noel noa. it’s not a secret that kunigami’s supposed to be a copy of noel noa, but what does noa think of this?? i need their dynamic to be weird and fucked up…like he’s noa’s protege, as he’s meant to be a copy of the man, but noa is simultaneously absolutely disgusted by ego, becuase what do you mean his old rival who faded into obscurity has suddenly returned with this child whose body and life and future he completely ruined, whose mental state is absolutely destroyed, just so that he could finally “beat” noa?? just so that he could make a copy of the man that he could never actually be himself?? and this disgust with ego transfers to noa also almost shunning kuni and avoiding him when possibly/treating him way more strictly than he does the others…which only makes kunigami try to work ten times as hard to prove himself…but this only freaks noa out more and it’s just a vicious cycle LSKDFJHSLK

ANYWAYS so this was a crazy long post but it’s really not meant to be taken all too seriously!! like i said these are just musings about how two characters that i personally like could’ve been used differently 🤩 if you read all of this then you’re a goat fr and feel free to talk to me about blue lock/anything else at any time!!

what was that youtube ass outro

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Breaking Free: Chapter 4-The Path Ahead

Pairings: AU! Mechanic Dean x Reader

Chapter Summary: Life keeps beating Y/N down, But Dean is there to pick her up.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

A/N: So some people might not like that it's moving a little fast, but when you know you know.. Plus who doesn't believe in fate?

It's been a few days since our first date, and each day I found myself falling deeper in love. The entire night replayed in my mind like a movie.

I remembered Dean's gentle touch as he fed me strawberries, our laughter filling the air when one fell. He spoke about his family, and his love for working on cars. He shared stories of his little brother Sam, and his late mother. There were tears shed and comfort exchanged, and of course-the lingering kisses.

Nothing intimate happened on our first date, it wasn't that I didn't want to-believe me, I did-but I wanted to make sure everything between us was right, genuine, not just a spur of the moment thing.

Plus, Andrew was the only one I've been with, and I wasn't ready, for that big of a step. I wasn't even sure if I was staying yet...

But when Dean touched me, it was unlike anything I'd experienced before. It was tender, fulfilling, and it felt like he truly cared.

The next morning, he called me for coffee, setting a routine that helped me ease back into going out again. Despite the town's gossip and judgmental glances, Dean remained unfazed, and eventually, I stopped caring too.

Claire and I hung out shortly after our date, bonding over lunch and swapping stories. She was a refreshing friend in this town, one who didn't judge or buy into rumors.

I knew I had to make a decision soon-whether to stay in this town or leave. I didn't want to leave him, but finding a job here was difficult, and my money was running out.

I hadn't told Dean about my thoughts of leaving. I didn't want to burden him, and honestly, I hadn't expected to develop such strong feelings for him so quickly. But I knew I needed to have a serious conversation with him about my future, despite how much I dreaded the idea of losing something like this.

I pulled out my laptop, scanning through job listings again. Most seemed tied to Andrew or businesses featured on his news channel-places unlikely to hire me.

With a sigh, I closed the laptop and dialed Dean's number. It had only been a few hours since we last spoke, But I already missed him, and his voice had a way of comforting me.

Dean picked up after the first ring. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Hey, Dean. How's work going?" I asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"Busy. There was an accident, so i'm working on two very expensive cars. It's a bit intimidating." he replied with a chuckle.

“You’re the best mechanic they could have,” I reassured him, laying my phone on my chest, closing my eyes to savor his voice a moment longer.

“Thanks. How’s your day?”

I hesitated. Dean could always tell when something was bothering me. “It’s… okay.”

“What’s going on, sweetheart?” he asked gently.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. “It’s… nothing. Just trying to figure out my next steps.”

Dean knew I was hiding something. “Next steps towards what? Is there anything I can do to help?”

I let out a nervous giggle. “Not unless you can offer me a job and a place to stay.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line that made my heart skip a beat. “I was actually thinking… maybe I can help with that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“Well, we’re looking for a secretary at the office, and I could talk to my dad about it. And… I have a downstairs unit in my place that you could rent if you’d like,” Dean offered sincerely.

I was taken aback by his generosity. “Dean, as much as I appreciate that—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering,” he interrupted firmly.

I thought about the rumors swirling around town about me, especially those involving Andrew. It felt wrong to accept Dean’s help, like I was being tested, or setting myself up for future criticism.

“Um… Maybe we could start with the job first, and then we’ll see,” I replied cautiously. “I don’t want to ask too much of you.”

Dean chuckled softly. “If that’s what you’re comfortable with, sweetheart. How about you come by the site in about an hour, and I’ll talk to John?”

“Okay, that works for me. Thanks, Dean,” I said gratefully.

After saying our goodbyes, I felt a rush of nerves. Not only was Dean trying to get me a job at his workplace, but I would also be meeting his father, John Winchester.

From what I’d heard, John was an intimidating figure—intimidating yet fair. I hoped I made a good impression, especially since I knew Dean’s job and possibly our future together were at stake.

I pulled into the parking lot and spotted Dean working underneath a car. I couldn’t resist sneaking up and playfully tickling his leg, causing him to startle and bump his head on the car.

I covered my mouth, trying to suppress a laugh, but it was too late. Dean rolled out from under the car, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I’m so going to get you back for that, sweetheart.”

I giggled, helping him up. “I’m so sorry.”

He laughed deep and hugged me, “It’s alright. Let’s go inside. I’ll introduce you to my dad,” Dean said, the nerves evident in his voice.

Little did I know, Dean was as nervous as I was, if not more. He knew his father had reservations about me, especially after losing the interview because of our initial encounter.

Dean knocked on the office door, and John Winchester’s sharp eyes instantly fixated on me. His expression tightened, his gaze scrutinizing Dean. I sensed there was something Dean hadn’t told me, but I wasn’t sure what.

“Dad, I wanted you to meet Y/N L/N. Y/N, this is my dad and the owner of Winchester Mechanics, John Winchester.”

I offered a polite smile, stepping forward to shake John’s hand. He chuckled under his breath, his handshake gruff. He leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, his eyes returning to Dean. “Was there something you needed to talk about, Dean?” John asked, his tone cool.

Dean swallowed nervously, his gaze dropping slightly. “Uh, yeah. Y/N is looking for a job, and I was wondering if you still had that opening for a secretary.”

John smiled faintly, shaking his head. I knew at that moment I wanted to earth to open up and swallow me whole, anything to get out of this situation.

"Dean, could you give Y/n and me a moment alone?" Dean's eyes widened as he turned towards me. I nodded quickly, and he exited the room, leaving me alone with his father, whose stare could have cut through steel.

"You'll have to excuse my son. Sometimes he acts without thinking," John said, circling his desk and gesturing for me to sit. He sighed, the tension in the room thickening around me.

"Listen, Y/N. You seem nice, and I'm sure you mean well. But I don't think you're the right fit for this place."

"May I ask why?" I whispered.

He sighed again, settling back into his chair. "I'm aware of the rumours surrounding you, what Andrew and the townsfolk say. It's not my place to judge, but I can't risk our business over someone we barely know. Dean doesn't know you either. Why should we jeopardize everything over a girl who left a relationship unhappy? How is that fair to us?"

Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, tears threatening in my eyes. He was right. I wasn't worth the trouble. This was Andrew's town, not mine. I nodded in surrender and rose from my seat. "I understand."

John stood beside me, his hand lightly touching my arm. "I'm not trying to be harsh, Y/N. But Dean doesn't need this. He doesn't need to worry about a girl he just met. He shouldn't have to endure a town looking down on him because of your history. But he's too stubborn to see it."

I nodded again, wiping away stray tears. "I know. I'll make it clear to him, Sir."

Before he could respond, I hurried out of the office, passing Dean on my way to the car. He caught my arm, concern etched on his face. "What happened? Where are you going?"

"Thanks for trying, Dean. But this was a mistake. I shouldn't have involved you."

Confusion furrowed his brow, but when he saw my tears, anger flashed across his features. "What did my dad say?"

"Nothing that wasn't true. I'm sorry. I have to go... I'll call you later."

Starting my car, I sped away from the parking lot. When Dean was out of sight, tears poured down my cheeks. I felt humiliated, foolish, and undeserving. How could I have thought things would ever be normal here? Why did I think a relationship with someone as wonderful as Dean could work when I was the town's most despised?

Dean’s POV

I stormed into my dad's office, seething with anger. He met my glare with a stern expression. "What the hell did you say to her?"

He stepped closer, his voice low. "Watch your tone, Dean. I told her the truth—that having her around is costing us already. She didn't have to leave, she didn't have to listen, but she did. She knows she's causing problems, I don't understand why you can't see that."

I scoffed and backed up. "Maybe because I'm the only one in this damn town who sees any good in her. Maybe I gave her a chance, and when she showed her true colours, I realized what a great person she is. Did it ever occur to you that Andrew might be the problem?"

He shook his head, anger simmering. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall. "That doesn't matter, Dean. Our business is everything. To survive, we need to be on the right side."

"And aligning with a guy who beats women is the right side?"

"Watch your mouth. Andrew has influence. What happens at home is not our concern."

I scoffed again, stepping towards the door. "You're unbelievable. What if it were Mom in her position? Would you have treated her the same way?"

"Don't you dare compare her to your mother." His voice boomed on the walls.

“Swear to god what? You’ll hit me? Yeah, because everybody in this town thinks with their fists. Go ahead, prove me right dad.”

He stepped closer, eyes glaring on me, firsts clenched. "Dean, I'm warning you."

I moved closer, unable to hold back my fury and hurt. "If it were Mom, you'd do the exact same thing."

Before I could react, he grabbed my shirt, slamming me against the wall. Pain shot through my back as his grip tightened around my throat.

"Your mother would never be in that situation. Y/N was foolish to get involved, and you're even more foolish for defending her."

"I'm falling in love with her, why can't you support that!" I shouted, watching his expression darken.

"You're an idiot. You don’t love her."

Pushing him away, I rushed for the door. "I think I do, and you won't stop me from being with her. I care about her more than I care about Winchester Mechanics, and you'd do the same if it were Mom."

Back to me

I locked myself in the motel room, collapsing against the wall as sobs racked my body. How could I have thought I'd find peace here? John was right. Dean was risking too much by being with me, and he hardly knew me. I couldn't take away his future, his passion for cars, all because of my tangled history with Andrew.

That's why I decided to leave. I packed hastily, preparing to depart and sort things out elsewhere. I couldn't stay, shouldn't have stayed.

My phone rang, displaying Dean's name. I hesitated, knowing he wouldn't stop until I answered.

His messages flooded in, each one a plea to talk. My heart raced. He was coming here? Panic surged. I couldn’t face him, couldn’t bear to watch his heart break as I told him I was leaving for good. I had to go before he arrived.

I finished packing, tossing everything into the car. As I closed the trunk, I saw Dean's truck pulling in. He must have raced here.

He hurried over, pain and worry spread across on his face. "Sweetheart..."

I avoided his eyes, "Dean, don't. It's okay. I have to go."

He glanced at the empty room behind me, panic in his eyes. "Go where?"

I sighed, turning to face him, struggling to contain my tears. "I'm leaving town."

The words felt like a knife in his gut. "Why are you leaving?"

"I don’t belong here, Dean. I'm an outcast. Your dad was right. It's not fair for me to jeopardize your future when you hardly know me."

He scoffed gently, reaching for my arm. "I do know you. I don't understand why everyone keeps saying this. It hasn't been long, but I know you. I know about your broken leg when you were five, from falling off a horse. I know you're scared of dogs and hate the dark. I know you've always dreamed of going to New York and seeing Times Square. I know the way your nose crinkles when you're lost in thought, and how you tilt your head. And I know you don't want to leave because you haven't looked away from me this whole time."

I slowly met his gaze, tears welling in my eyes. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Stay with me. I'll take care of you. I'll help you."

I stepped back, arms wrapped around myself. "Dean, if I stay, I'm putting your future at risk."

He moved closer, his hands reaching out. "Fuck my future! Why does everyone care so much about my future? A job isn’t everything. It's you."

My heart skipped a beat, his words hanging in the air. "What did you say?"

He sighed, closing the distance between us. "It's you. You're my future. It hasn't been long, but I feel it. I know you feel it too. And I've only seen someone move this fast once before—my dad and my mom. I want what they have, and I know I can have it with you. Please… just stay with me. I'll take care of you."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I leaned into him, kissing him softly before pulling away, finding the courage to speak my heart. "I think I might love you, Dean."

A smile broke across his face, and he kissed my forehead gently. "I think I love you too, Y/N."

I sighed, resting my head against his chest, finding peace in his embrace. "What do we do now? I can't afford this motel room, and I don’t have a job."

"Well... since the job didn't work out, you could move into the apartment below mine. Or... move in with me."

"Dean…"

He grinned, looking down at me. "Hey, you said you didn't want to ask too much of me. Technically, it's just one thing."

I smiled through my tears, nodding. "You're right, Detective Winchester. Are you sure?"

"More sure than anything. It's up to you—you can take the apartment or with me. Either way works for me."

"I want to live with you."

His eyes widened, joy lighting up his face. "Really?"

"Like you said, my future is with you. We might as well start now, even though I think we are absolutely crazy."

He nodded, giving me the address before heading to his truck to meet me there. For the first time in a while, I felt hope that things were heading in the right direction—all because of Dean. I prayed that moving in together would work out.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 5 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[builtaworldwithyourlove]

I Forget Where We Were

1.6k/ joel miller x f!reader / MINORS DNI

summary: life with Joel from the start. Be kind please- this is my first piece and has taken 6 months of courage🤍

Chapter Two: Rivers In Your Mouth

And you showed me hope amidst the harlequins in spring

what to expect: a chance encounter. He knows where you live. Things are heating up in the kitchen (the metaphorical kitchen)

warnings: bad language i guess idk?😂fluff, dad!joel,female reader (please let me know if there is anything I’m missing, I will elaborate as the series goes on) no outbreak, age gap (reader is mid 20s and Joel is mid 40s), kinda cheesy joel, previous hurt and potential trauma for reader,dark!joel, teasing, mild , pining. So much pining. It’s a forest. Unrealistic but a bitch can dream. Please suggest any more you can think of that I need to add.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The week passed slowly, and it was now Thursday evening. There were no more encounters with Joel, which made the hours drag. The work day was done, and you cleared your to do list, feeling surprisingly productive, despite the flashes of Joel through your mind. Not even a phone number, or a hint at when, or if, you’ll see him again. With a sigh, it was time to get the grocery shop and continue your week of self care.

The sun was setting and the sticky summer heat embraced you as you braved the outdoors from the shield of your cosy air conditioned apartment.

Feeling irritable, lonely and wishing you were taking on the task with Joel, you opened the gates to your complex and waited for a clear gap to drive out. Amazing, isn’t it? Your first interaction was a couple of days ago and your heart is distracted at the thought of your lives intertwined.

Tapping your red manicured nails on your steering wheel whilst in a daze waiting for the traffic flow to clear, a familiar face driving a black truck flashes and stops to let you out. The world stops spinning and you have tunnel vision on the rugged man who winks at you as you gasp. Exhilarated at the thought he now knows where to find you.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

With the mundane errands polluting your earlier excitement, you get home, open your balcony doors and unwind for the evening. Dinner is cooked and cleared away, and you’ve showered and pampered. Of course, showers would be much better with Joel towering over you.

You watch over the streets from your balcony, glass of ice water in hand and pale blue pyjamas sitting over your hips and edging onto your thighs. Scanning the road meticulously for any sign of life at 9:30pm, you notice dimmed headlights facing you from across the road. Your imagination runs wild as you remember: Joel Miller knows where you live.

The headlights brighten as the engine turns over and the truck pulls out of the road and turns right. Miller Contracting… written across the side, practically fluorescent and blinking like a Las Vegas strip sign.

Your throat dries and you look for any relief from the way he has you flustered.

Shaking it off, you go to head to bed before realising you forgot your phone cable in the car. You rush down to the car, and gasp when you see Joel Miller walking to your gates.

‘Hey little lady. Didn’t mean to startle you’ he coos, smiling as he chews his gum between words.

You laugh and straighten out your pyjamas. ‘It’s okay, I noticed your truck. Kinda hoped we’d cross paths. Is that weird?’

He clenches his jaw and slouches against the gate pillar. The feeling of butterflies grows.

‘Darling I saw you earlier and remember and the thought of you being alone possessed me. I couldn’t shake the feeling of just checking in, I didn’t intend for you to notice but thought I’d try my luck when you disappeared and I couldn’t see your shadows.’

‘I know it’s late, but I’m off work tomorrow, do you want to come in?’ You shocked yourself with the devil on your shoulder holding the reins on this interaction.

His brown eyes twinkled, with a hint of curiosity. All that played in Joel’s mind was ‘Lord, help me look after this girl’

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel held the small of your back as you lead the way to your apartment,gazing in admiration as you flutter your lashes over your shoulder whilst giggling like a teenager.

He cautiously lowered his hand down your thighs across to hold your hand. Again, embracing them like you were made of glass. Little did he know, you wanted to shatter under his weight.

You lead him through your hallway, and his heart burst at the sheer femininity of your home. It felt like an unveiling of the most intimate parts of you, further reinforcing his desire to protect you. The smell of incense and vanilla bean candles filled the room, and your freshly washed hair and cocoa butter lotion threw Joel upon a high.

Your fingers lingered across his palm, and you guided him to the sofa and offered him a drink.

‘I know it’s a school night, but I have a bottle of white screaming my name’ you whispered, as you bent one knee and knelt onto his lap.

‘Little lady, I don’t have to work tomorrow either, Tommy’s got Sarah and I’m just meant to deliver some materials. Just tell me you don’t mind me here, and I’ll stay.’ His puppy dog eyes met yours and you blushed.

‘Sit back, make yourself at home. I want you here. You intrigue me. And you’re the most handsome man ever’ your voice lowers at the last bit as you turn your back and reach up on tiptoes and reach the wine glasses, your shorts riding up ever so slightly. You turn your head subtly, and see Joel close his eyes tightly before looking up to the skies as if to say ‘heaven help me.’

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Time passes, and you find yourselves gradually encroaching on eachother’s boundary. From sitting opposite eachother, your legs tucked underneath your self and leaning on the back of the sofa with your fist supporting your head, and Joel’s muscular legs open on the sofa, leaning back twiddling the wine glass in front of his belt buckle; to then straightening your legs and Joel rubbing your french-tip toes, as you tell him the tragic turns of events which brought you here.

‘Tell me all about you’ you say, half serious, half pushing your chances.

He then goes into detail about Sarah, his daughter, and the breakdown of the relationship with her mother. You cried. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the vulnerability of someone with such a rough exterior making your house feel like a home, and giving you every reassurance that your heart would be treasured.

He layed his head down on your thighs as you stroked his hair. Curls tangling on your fingers as you inhaled the scent of musk, oud and cedarwood. He folded his arms behind his head, holding you within where his arms met. The veins on his biceps,and the patch of dark hair between his lifted t-shirt and low riding jeans were enough to make you drool.

There was a comfortable silence after he finished up with the latest Sarah anecdote.

‘Joel, this isn’t too much is it?’ you had to go and self sabotage.

He rolled to his stomach and looked at you with promise in his eyes. ‘When I find what I want, I go for it. Time is nothing. One spark may light a match, one spark can cause wildfires. The flame I feel with you is like nothing I’ve felt before. When you know, you know’ Joel tilted his head at your unreadable expression. ‘The last thing I’d do is burn you.’

He stroked your the side of your cheek, in awe of your beauty, and let his thumb outline your lips, as he then pushed for you to open your mouth. You kissed the tip of his thumb, and let your tongue slide on the underside of it. He wrapped his hands round your waist and pulled you closer to him. Your thighs now over his shoulder and his chin rested on your pelvis.

‘I’ve never been so infatuated with someone. I thought I’d hate you. I saw your truck at the gym that day, I just thought, douchebag,’you winked playfully’ then the way Tommy stole you away, I thought I’d never see you again. Then the car park, did Tommy know?’

‘I told him the second I saw you. That’s going to be my girl. He was too engrossed with his latest toned pilates ass obsession to notice it was you the other morning’ he placed a kiss to your hipbone, and rubbed his thumb under your waistband.

The ocean in your stomach bubbled, and the butterflies were replaced by a river, threatening to pour out.

‘You know, this may be a weird one to explain to people, considering most people wouldn’t take to being woo’ed via stakeout method’you teased as you pushed back his curls. The creases round his eyes tightened and he laughed, the smile like a small child who had seen fireworks for the first time.

‘I said to Tommy I’d do whatever it takes to make you mine, and the universe blessed me. Or whatever it is you girls and your crystals say.’

‘Stay with me tonight’ you asked. ‘I don’t want anything more to happen, just hold me.’

‘Baby, I’ll stay as long as you want. Are you sure?’ he stroked up your thigh, and applied pressure as he forced himself up off the sofa.

It was 11:48pm, and Joel knew it was Sarah’s sleepover day with her uncle Tommy, as every Friday currently, he works on a project by her school, so he offers to take her to dinner on Thursdays and then do the school run every Friday morning before work. Joel’s only evening with no responsibilities.

‘Let’s go, angel’ he held out his hand to help you up, before slinging you over his shoulder and dropping you down on the bed. He ran back to his truck to get his ‘emergency’ overnight bag. With the travel he does for work, he never knows when he’ll have to set up shop at some motel for a couple of hours for a break. Just like it was meant to be.

He showered, turned of the lights and checked the door was locked, before getting you both some water, and sliding in the sheets next to you, forearm over your chest, and body pressed against yours.

‘This is the start of my forever’ you both thought.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[snakebites-and-ink]

Chapter 1: What You're Getting Into

Masterlist

The urge to just blaze through the first few chapters so I can get to the whump...

CW: Self-sacrifice, a form of legalized slavery, illness in the family

Today, Nolan had a meeting. It would be the second step in a process that would change his life forever. The first step had been the call that set this up in the first place.

An advisor was going to make a house call to make sure that Nolan understood the legal process he was planning to go through—and that he understood the consequences of it.

He’d told his parents what he was going to do. It wasn’t easy for anyone involved, but ultimately it was his choice to make, not theirs.

The advisor who’d been sent to his home arrived at the door, and Nolan let her in.

“Nolan? I’m Melissa. It’s my job to make sure you know what you’re getting into.” She held out her hand to shake. Nolan took it.

“Hi.”

They sat down. “So, what do you know about this process?” Melissa asked.

“I give up any claim I have to human rights, and whoever I designate gets a whole lot of money.”

“Well…yes, that’s the gist of it.”

“That not enough detail?”

“I have to be sure you really know what you’re getting into here,” Melissa said. “You won’t have any rights, not even the rights of an animal. You’ll also be giving up your citizenship. As far as any law or legal system is concerned, you won’t count as a person anymore.”

“I understand. Is there anything else I need to know?”

They went over a number of technicalities before Melissa asked Nolan about why he’d decided to do this. She seemed concerned when she learned that he was doing this for someone other than himself.

“I’ve got to do this, for my sister. She’s really sick. The money can help her.” If Sophia didn’t get the treatments—treatments that their family couldn’t afford—she was never going to get better. She’d likely die young. Plus, this could do more for their family than just that; superhumans were worth a lot, much more than they’d need to pay for his sister’s health. This could lift them from the state of relative poorness they lived in, set them on a path to a better life. If they played their cards right, this could make the whole rest of their lives better.

“Nolan…you need to think about what this would mean for you, specifically, too, not just for the people you care about. Your sister’s not the only one who matters. You have needs and wants too, which have to be taken into account.”

“I have taken them into account. What would happen to me if I went through with this couldn’t be as bad as just letting her….Selling myself isn’t my ideal. But it’s better than the alternative.”

“And are you sure there aren’t other alternatives? Other ways to get money?”

“We’ve tried looking at other options. This seems like the best chance we have.”

“And you’re sure you really want to go through with this?”

Nolan nodded decisively. “I’m doing it.”

“Very well. Then I have some questions to go through with you to make sure you’re ready and able to consent to this.”

“Alright.”

They went through an interview to verify that Nolan’s consent for this was legitimate. No issues came up.

Before she took her leave, Melissa said, “You can change your mind anytime in the process right up until you sign. Just think about it, okay?”

Nolan sighed. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But don’t count on me changing my mind.”

[awakenedsalamander]

Hey so as a new DM getting into WoD (coming from D&D and Cyberpunk) where would you recommend starting for reading up on Mage?

I’ve got both VtM and HtR and there good sourcebooks but I’ve been told Mage has all the ‘deeper’ lore. I just don’t know where to start.

[Note: I answered this question in typical long-winded fashion, so you can skip to the numbered list at the end for a somewhat shorter summary of how I’d get into Mage, if you prefer. Also, this is my own opinion— I can’t promise it’ll work, but I know it worked for me, at least when I started actually doing it intentionally.]

This is a relatable problem!

So, I got into Mage by picking up pieces of the lore from a distance over the course of a couple years, and then diving into the M20 corebook while they were offering it for free during the pandemic. I read the intro, then skimmed the book, with a focus on parts I was interested in, and over the course of the past three years I’ve read almost all of it by now. It’s almost 700 pages of weird, dense material and while if I wanted to I could have gotten all of it read much quicker, it still would have been quite the task, which is not ideal for a game.

Alright, how should you do it then?

Okay, first, put aside the notion of “deeper” lore at least for the moment. Don’t let the fans of Mage who wax lyrical about how important and wild and vast the implications of the Ascension books are. While Mage does get pretty out there, it does not and should not overshadow the other games. Gehenna’s still coming, for instance, don’t let the incident with what was *maybe* the Ravnos Antediluvian take away from that.

Seriously though, it’s easy to get intimidated by certain Mage fans. They can be kind of a snobby crowd, frankly, and not just in the fun pretentious way. Enjoy it at you own pace, those guys think they know the game— nah. A lot of them just know the metaplot, and that does not a game make.

Approach Mage more like an all you can eat buffet, and you’re getting from it what you want. As much or as little, as big or as small, as focused or as broad as makes sense for your interests. You take the parts you want as you like, and go from there. There’ll be time for the rest when you’ve found your footing.

So, if I were to do it all over…

1st— Get ready to take the plunge—but carefully, and with some intent. Steel yourself with some deep breaths, and grab a book to get started with. I do actually recommend the 20th Anniversary Edition to get started, but it is a lot, so if you’re worried about getting distracted or overwhelmed, Revised should work too. (I personally think Revised is just a bit too limited in its take on the setting, but that’s really subjective.) Don’t start reading quite yet, though, just pick the book you want to start with.

2nd— Be ready to ask questions. I’m putting this up early not because you’ll necessarily have questions immediately, but it’s always intimidating to be confused and have questions, so just know that there are folks in the community who will be polite in answering questions.

I’ve had luck with r/WhiteWolfRPG in the past, but I haven’t dipped in there for a while so they may have gotten worse. The Onyx Path forums are generally fairly nice, though. And here on Tumblr I have to think there are people, though I’m new here. Still, I can speak for myself and say— I love questions!

3rd— Alright, here’s what I’d do now. Read the first chapter or so, enough that you know what this setting even is, and then it’s time to find the parts that you are interested in specifically. For example, I’m really into alchemy, hermeticism, that kind of ceremonial magic, and mashing that into a modern setting— playing someone trying to do this old school classical wizardry in the 21st century, basically. So I’d jump into the relevant sections of M20– I’d read about the Traditions, the faction most into old school magic, then read specifically about the Order of Hermes, the Verbena, maybe a few other factions like the Children of Knowledge and the Hollow Ones, and go to any linked relevant sections I’m interested in, such as the write-ups for Alchemy and High Ritual Magick in M20. I would recommend doing something similar. If you don’t know where to start at all, I’d recommend looking at paradigms, the Orphans, and maybe Avatars. That’ll give you the kind of basic introduction a newly-Awakened mage would get. Also, probably stay away from the Umbra for now. It’s got a ratio of weirdness-to-size that makes it a tricky thing to grasp, at least at first.

At this point you might still be confused, just cause it’s a lot to reckon with, but you should be grounded in the details that you plan on working with. You’re building the foundation, hopefully in a way that’s not too confusing.

4th— Something I find helpful for getting to know a game is making my own character, so when you’re comfortable with that notion, I’d suggedt getting a character sheet and finding the section for character creation, then going through it and filling out that sheet as needed. You may never play this character, but in doing so you’re getting a feel for how the mechanics and setting interact, and you’ll probably start to get some knowledge of the basic Mage-specific rules. If you’re like me, you’ll naturally be curious enough to check out those sections, but even if not you’ll still learn more.

5th— Now I’d say to just widen out from where you are. This may take the form of just reading the whole damned thing now, straight through, but for me with M20 that was still kinda scary. There’s just so much. So I read about the things I felt that I knew about, but only vaguely. The Technocratic Union, the nature of Paradox, how paradigm works mechanically, Avatars, that sort of thing. At this point you’ll likely be familiar with your corner of the setting and get a view of how it fits into the wider whole. If you’re feeling ambitious, you might jump into some crossover stuff— what happens if a mage drinks vampire blood, or how werewolves and the Awakened fight over Caerns/Nodes… I was a little overcautious about weaving in the larger World of Darkness when I was getting started, but I know that’s how some new players get a foothold.

(Optional 6th— On that note, I find Mage is a lot easier to run if you’ve gotten some experience with other WoD games. Maybe run a one-shot of one of them, or even a quick mini-chronicle, just so you know the basic rules and find your grove for Storytelling in the setting. You might feel you’re ready to just dive into Mage, and you might be! But I learned that I needed more practice, so just a word of advice.)

I wish you the best of luck! You’re stepping into some weird and wonderful stuff— magic, mystery, and madness, all that— and it takes some time. I hope you enjoy your journey, and remember, it’s never wrong to have questions.

Other than that…

You’re ready.

It’s time to Awaken. Begin walking your Path.

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Titan Bending, Chapter 4

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Chapter Warnings: 

WC: 1600 (sorry, this is a shorter one, this just felt like a good place to cut this one off)

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

As I step onto the field, I see that Levi has rejoined Hange and the kids that were just listening to my stories have gathered to watch as well. The trees in front of me are smaller than the ones I was living in, but they’re still pretty formidable. I begin stretching and loosening up.

“Alright y/n! Here are the rules: there are 10 wooden titans in this forest. Your goal is to move through the woods ‘killing’ them all as quickly as possible. All you’ve got to do for it to count as a kill is either take a notch out of their napes or knock the heads off. You think you can handle that?”

I smirk and nod and it looks like she’s about to hand me one of their weird swords, which I quickly refuse. Levi scoffs and states more than he asks “How are you going to kill them without a weapon?”

Instead of dignifying him with a response, I turn to Hange and ask “Is it okay if I kill a couple of your trees?” Confused, she agrees. “Good, then I definitely don’t need an extra weapon then.”

I take a deep breath and focus as Hange’s assistant begins the countdown before starting the timer. On go, I spring forward and run full speed towards the woods. Continuing to run, I sweep my arms around in a circular motion and pull most of the water out of two trees. I skim it across the ground and into a wave so I can launch myself into the air. I encase my arms in the water and swing through the trees. 

Darkness falls over me as I enter the forest. These trees are closer together than the massive ones of my forest. It’s musty, but not very humid. I hear the whirring noise of the machines they wear and I realize they’re following along.

Almost immediately two of their wooden “titans” jump out. On my upswing I spin myself and whip my water, quickly and effectively beheading the silhouettes. 

Two down.

I swing wide to turn and I use my free stream of water to freeze a path along the curve. As soon as I’ve come around, I can see where there are three more titans. Localizing my ice, I now use the necks of the wood cutouts as my anchor points, taking their heads off one by one without breaking stride.

Five, halfway there.

On the next turn I don’t immediately see the next set. That is, until one springs up from underneath me. I quickly combine my streams of water into a ring and speed it up. At this speed, it could cut through metal if need be. I let myself fall through the air for a moment and expand my ring of water, absolutely obliterating the wood figure.

Shit, I hope none of the splinters hit them. What number was that?

I hit the ground and run for a moment until another group of three are right in front of me. I quickly use what’s left of my water to form a spout. Once I’m up higher than the titans, I shoot spikes of ice out. There are so many and they shoot out so violently that not only do I succeed in cutting through the necks, the titans themselves almost disintegrate.

Alright, eight down. Or was it nine?

Not sure how many I had left and with a drastically depleted supply of water, I start drawing as much as I can from the surrounding plants. As I try to think of exactly how many it’s been, I almost run directly into one. Thinking quickly, I slide under it.

They never said what direction I had to hit them from.

As I slide, I slice through the entire length of the figure. For good measure, once I’m past it I turn on a dime and take off its head. I’m at the entrance of the forest now so I assume the test is done. 

I see Hange land and the rest follow suit. Slightly winded, I put my hands on my knees and ask, “was that 10? I lost count.”

Hange looks at me with wide eyes, galloping over and squealing, “Yes! Yes, that was 10! That. Was. In. CREDIBLE!” Turning towards her assistant who is already jogging over she yells “Moblit! What was the time?”

As he approached, Moblit seemed a little scared. Of what, I don’t know, but scared nonetheless. 

He stuttered out “Section Chief, I…I don’t think you’re going to believe this.” His eyes dart between Hange and me before he spits it out. In disbelief he says, “she…she beat the record. She did it in one minute and 32 seconds. She…she even beat…” he trails off but glances at Levi who seems completely nonplussed by this entire situation. Hange, on the other hand, cannot contain her excitement. 

She wraps her arm around my shoulder and begins leading me away, asking me so many questions so quickly that I can’t keep up with them. She continues this all the way to her lab, and what I thought was just extreme curiosity turns into an actual plan for experiments. If I knew the answer to a question - such as can I bend with my feet - that wouldn’t need to be an experiment. But if I didn’t know something - like how close I need to be to a source of water in order to be able to bend it - she would jot that down.

After a while Moblit joined us, and while he still seemed afraid, it appeared to have lessened. I tried to smile at him to reassure him, but I don’t know if it had the intended effect. He started taking Hange’s notes and putting them in order on a whiteboard. At least, that’s what I thought he was doing because I couldn’t actually read their writing. As soon as I noticed this, I stopped Hange in the middle of her train of thought.

Puzzled, I point out, “we don’t write the same. We speak the same language but I can’t read your writing and my guess is,” I take the pencil out of her hand and write a quick sentence on her paper, “you can’t read mine either.”

“Holy shit you’re right. But…why is that?”

All the three of us can do is stare at each other in silence. It’s Moblit that finally breaks the tension.

“I think it’s probably time for dinner, this feels like a good place to stop.” Silently, we all nod and move to the dining hall.

How could it be possible that we can understand each other when we speak but not when we write. Their writing isn’t even distinguishable to me!

Like the phantom that he is, Levi just appears with the group as we stand in line. He didn’t say anything, but I noticed he grabbed two trays. I tried to copy him but I didn’t know which tray to copy so I defaulted to Eren’s picks from earlier. When it came time to find a seat, he took the two trays and left. 

Hange saw the confusion on my face and immediately knew why. “He’s taking the second tray to Erwin.” My eyebrows shoot up in astonishment that he would do something so…nice. I shrug it off, but throughout the rest of dinner my mind keeps falling back to it.

So, is it just me he’s a dick to? Because if he wants to be a dick I can dish it back!

After dinner I headed back to my room and immediately crashed. Only, tonight’s sleep was much less restful than the previous night. Only a few hours passed before I jolted awake.

Welp, I guess it’s not the bed that helped me sleep last night. I guess I just don’t know how to sleep like a real person.

I shuffled around in the dark and got dressed, deciding this was the perfect time to do some working out and exploring. I went to one of the training grounds and saw some weights strewn about but ultimately decided it was better than nothing.

Wow, you’d think a military would keep better care of their equipment.

I kept going until the moon was directly above me. I stared up at it for a moment and decided I wanted a better view.

There’s gotta be lookout posts or something around here somewhere.

I followed one set of stairs after another, and just when I was about to give up I opened the door at the top of one staircase and found that it let out onto the roof.

“Thank fuck,” I whispered to myself.

Only it wasn’t to myself. When I looked to my left, I nearly jumped out of my skin when met with the silhouette of a person with their back to me. I approached slowly and as I got closer I was surprised by who I saw. I debated going back and not even bothering, but instead I took a deep breath and huffed out a greeting.

“...Levi? I wasn’t expecting anyone else to even be awake.”

Tags: @mochminnie

[tomtenadia]

Thicker than blood - 30

Chapter with a few discovery and finally the beginning of the end as in the worst is almost over...

Ten days had passed and Rowan had kept track by the normal cycle of the sun rising and setting. Ten days. Aelin had been in Maeve’s hand for three weeks now. The bond had gone silent once again and a part of him was glad. Not feeling her pain allowed him to think clearly. He had followed a tricky path uphill and trudged through thick snow. He had one last ridge to cross and then he would be there. Maeve had taken Aelin far away. In the middle of the mountains there was a small hidden valley and he had spotted a house. He had a feeling that was the place. Before leaving he had found a satellite picture that showed a small helicopter nearby. Being a cop and the right friends had been useful.

Night was setting again when he decided it was time to leave his cavern. Blood had finished a while ago but he had been feeding on animals. He was old enough to be able to go for almost a week without feeding, but the journey was taking a toll, and, in order not to waste too much time, he had been walking at dawn and dusk too, the sun not too hot and he had endured in order to get to Aelin faster. But because of that he had to feed more regularly to heal.

He grabbed his backpack, lifted it on his shoulder and then tied his hair. He touched his face and felt a nice layer of beard on him. He wondered if Aelin would like his rugged appearance. A timid smile appeared on his lips and then his thought went back to the mission ahead.

He was about to set off when he felt a presence. His hand grabbed the knife at his side and was ready for attack. He waited until he spotted a tall figure emerge from the side of the mountain. 

Rhoe Galathynius was there. How?

“In a hurry?”

Rowan was speechless. How had he managed? He had at least a three day lead. And how did he found out?

“Oh yes, you are surprised to see me,” said the man as he dropped his backpack for an instant “When you disappeared Lys gave me the keys to your flat and saw all the maps. So I followed.”

“How?”

“I am old,” a soft smile appeared on his face “I have very little need to stop for feeding or even rest so I caught up with you and…” a grin “I know a few shortcuts.”

Rowan sighed. Maybe having Rhoe at his side was good. The man had definitely more experience.

“I was a soldier, I am used to long campaigns and rough camping.”

“I am sorry I left that way. I just could not sit and wait any longer.”

Rhoe nodded “We are going to get our girl back and destroy Maeve in the process.”

Rowan nodded.

Rhoe removed a few blood bags from his backpack and passed them to Rowan “Eat. You will need all of your strength.”

Rowan accepted the bags and drank eagerly. Animal blood never left him fully satisfied.

Once he was done Rhoe nodded and the two resumed marching together towards their final destination 

*

Lorcan was buried in his office with piles of reports on his desk. The last ten days had been a flurry of non stop work. Maeve had decided to unleash all of her minions in town and cause chaos. Newborns had taken to the streets and his units had been overwhelmed with work. The attacks had been relentless and in different places at the same time. Luckily, a lot of vampires had started patrolling the streets at night alongside the paranormal unit. However, even with the extra help they still had lost people. Those same vampires who had helped had been offered to join his unit if they wanted and a good number of them had accepted. He had discovered that a few of them were ex junkies who wanted to help out and had welcomed them in. In those days he had been thinking about Rowan too. No one knew what had happened to him and Rhoe had taken leave of absence too and he had a feeling they were together. He hoped his friend was okay. He wanted to apologise to him for suspending him and throwing him in jail. Elide had made him understand how wrong he had been.

Elide, their dating had slowly taken a more serious turn and he had to admit that he loved the result. She was amazing.

He sighed and pushed his thoughts away and went back to work.

It was an hour later when a knocking at the door pulled him back from his reports.

“Come in.”

Elide walked in with a messenger bag strapped on her shoulder. She went for a quick kiss and then plopped exhausted on the chair opposite to him.

She looked troubled.

“What is it?”

Elide grabbed her bag and extracted a large pile of files and dumped them on his desk “I spent the day at the deviation centre with three other ME. We finally gained access to the morgue.”

Lorcan prepared for bad news.

“How bad?”

Elide sighed. None of the people in the centre had deserved the treatment they had received “The ones who had been executed before Hamel was deposed, had just been killed instantaneously,” she grabbed a pile of folders “But in a separate room we found the cellars with the bodies of the ones who had been used as lab rats,” she started showing him pictures and he felt sick at the images. A very sick game had happened.

“These vampires here were made almost humans, but as we studied them we realised that their bodies did not survive the ordeal. Their genetic code in the end was so messed up that the body stopped functioning,” she explained pointing at the pictures with the tortured bodies “this level of mutations happens over a very, very, very long period of time. The body adapts slowly,” she paused “These monsters tried to push such changes in the span of  months. And we only managed to have a look at the few hundreds still in the cells. I don’t want to imagine all the ones they have disposed of.” She looked at the man with sadness “Connall’s body is still in the morgue. Aelin’s morgue. I think we need to tell Fen and allow him to give his brother a proper final send off.”

Lorcan nodded “I agree. I will speak with Fenrys and we will get something organised.”

Elide nodded “I am going public with this. I have already contacted the press. The people deserve to know. All those who lost loved ones need to know the truth.”

Lorcan nodded in silence “I will support you. As chief of the paranormal unit.”

She stood and went for a kiss “This is so horrible, Lor.”

He pressed his forehead to hers “we will make it better.”

She sighed against him “any news of Rowan?”

Lorcan shook his head “Hopefully he is fine,” a kiss on her head “are you free?”

Elide pulled back and looked at him “Why, chief?”

“I need to get out of here.”

Elide stood and grabbed his hand “Let’s go chief. We both need some fresh air.”

*

Lysandra was laying with her head in Aedion’s lap while reading a book and her fiancee busy flipping through the channels “Why do we bother with a tv? There is nothing worth spending time watching.”

Lysandra chuckled and placed the book aside and looked up at her fiancee “I have ways to keep you entertained, if you are interested.” She turned slightly and her hand landed on his crotch palming him.

Aedion groaned and she slowly felt him harden under her touch. His shorts creating a thin barrier between her hand and skin. In provocation she lowered the shorts, exposing him to her and her hand palmed him hard. Aedion threw his head back and moaned loudly “Fuck, Lys,”

“What, my love?” Lysandra looked at him and licked her lips sensually.

Slowly she sat up and removed her, actually his t-shirt, and revealed her naked form to him.

“You are stunning,” he breathed while his hands landed on her breasts and started massaging them, paying particular attention on her already hard peaks.

She straddled him while her mouth claimed his “no foreplay. I need you now.”

Aedion chuckled and lifted her in his arms and walked to the bedroom and deposited Lys on the bed then proceeded to remove his t-shirt and shorts and joined her in bed. Lysandra flipped them over and straddled him.

Aedion smiled wickedly and pillowed his hands behind his head “Go wild.”

Lysandra did not need another invitation.

It was an hour later when they collapsed in bed exhausted, Lysandra sprawled on his chest, her hand gently caressing him “Aeds, I am terrified for Aelin,” she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

She felt his arms wound around her in a tight embrace “Me too. I want to hope that Rowan and Rhoe will find her in time. It’s not two years but I am afraid of the state in which she will be when she gets back to us.”

Lysandra kissed his neck “Maybe this time having Rowan will help her recovery?”

“Maybe.”

“I have read some old books from Rhoe’s library. There are some interesting theories about vampire bonds.”

Aedion hummed interested.

She kissed his pec “I know you need to find a scientific explanation and I agree but I am also a hopeless romantic.” 

Aedion chuckled and kissed her head “As you know, the blood from a bonded partner is a bit more effective than the regular one.” Lysandra stood and ran to the bookshelf and grabbed a book and joined him back in bed “but the ancients stories also talk about a special bond, a very rare one between two souls, so powerful that it could even heal a vampire on the brink of death,” she looked at Aedion’s curious face “it’s called the carranam bond.”

“Here,” she pointed at the pages and read them to him “if this truly has these strong powers maybe it can explain why only Rowan’s blood, even if it’s basically synthetic and lethal, can actually heal her.”

Aedion was silent for a moment “You are right. I haven’t been able to find a scientific reason. If I follow haematology rules, Aelin should be able to drink only from a person with golden blood,” He commented while stroking her long hair “we know her affinity with A+ was engineered. But at this point, given the reaction with Rowan’s blood I am really willing to leave it to magic.”

Lysandra kissed his chest “Apparently if they are carranam they realise they are mates the instant they taste the other person’s blood. It took us a while, remember?”

He hummed in agreement “Hopefully this special bond will help her.”

Lysandra straddled him again “It’s so romantic,” with her canines she brushed his neck and felt him shiver. The temptation was great but they had decide to follow the rules and be traditional so they still had to wait before joining that way. “Soon Lys,”

She smiled “And then we will take a week off because I am not letting you out of this bed.”

Aedion laughed “I am looking forward to it.”

*

Maeve was walking with a quick pace on her way to Erawan’s lab. The date of the big political rally was getting closer and Aelin was not ready yet apparently, and she was loosing her patience. Her plans were slowly falling apart and her niece was her last weapon. Police and the paranormal unit had started working together and the numbers of her vampires were dwindling and all of a sudden it seemed like the movement of the Reborns had died down. They were running out of volunteers to transform. She was furious. Darrow was ruining her plans. She had tried an attack on him but it had failed spectacularly. Apparently the ad interim mayor was already beloved by vampires and humans alike. And her main target, Rhoe Galathynius, had disappeared.

She finally reached Erawan’s office and she stormed in not even bothering to knock.

The man stood quickly “What?”

“I gave you one task, and you are failing me.”

“She is not there yet.”

“I want her to be a killer and you are not delivering.”

Erawan moved closer in challenge “I can’t do it all at once. It takes time. I am not risking to kill my best project ever.”

Maeve snarled and her hand went around Erawan’s neck “I gave you an order. Make my niece a killer.”

“Any faster and I kill her.”

She kept squeezing his neck “you find a way to transform her safely. If you kill her you are dead too.”

“Science cannot be—”

The man did not have the time to finish the sentence. Maeve grabbed a knife from the tray and slashed his throat and left his body collapse on the floor.

Then she turned to Aelin’s unconscious body and grabbed the small level to adjust the flow of the IV.  She pushed it completely open and watched as the liquid started flowing faster.

“You are going to help me ruin your father. I will destroy your family and you’ll be my weapon.”

And as the door closed horrible screams spread in the room.

Maeve grinned and walked away.

taglist

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[thatmexisaurusrex]

SamBucky Holiday Fic Snippet

Hey, people! Remember when I said I had an idea for my “wrong number”, “bad pickup lines”, and possibly “blind date” choices from the poll I did over a month back that’s totally going to tie into my Sambucky Festive Season Bingo Card choice? Here's a little snippet of the multi-chapter fic I'm making. Enjoy! 🥰

*****

“Whore house, whore speaking.”

Sam might have walked into one of the giant, giant poles in the subway.

“Bucky?” exclaimed Sam, rubbing his face as he waited for his train.

The subway was funky. A strange and pungent smell that Sam was sure he’d never get used to; urine, rank weed, horrible cotton candy vape smoke, dead rat, and hot trash somehow even in the cold of December. There were way too many mystery puddles on this particular platform too.

“You’re the only person who calls the landline. That and telemarketers,” said Bucky, “And scammers. If you can say there’s a difference between the two.”

“It’s only because I keep forgetting that Steve gave me his landline the first time I asked him for his number,” bemoaned Sam, feeling a little more pathetic, “Why haven’t I changed his first number to his cell phone on my phone?”

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know. I’m just glad that we get to have these little chats sometimes,” said Bucky, and Sam could hear the fucker smiling on the other side of the line.

“Yes. Great. Just. Great to have impromptu calls with you,” mumbled Sam, watching the train slow down, “I’ll – I’ll call him on his cell – ”

“Hold up there, cowboy – ” Bucky started as Sam snorted.

“Cowboy?” said Sam, a little exasperated as he got on the train.

“I’m trying out nicknames. Let me experiment,” said Bucky on the other side of the phone.

Sam snickered as he held onto a pole.

“Just tell me how the date went? Didn’t you just go on one with Alisande?” asked Bucky and before Sam could ask, he added, “Stevie can’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Did she say yes to meeting your family?”

Sam remembered why he was calling Steve.

Was Sam going to confess this to Bucky? Bucky the Roommate Barnes? A dude that Sam just kept crossing paths with because he was Steve’s friend? The man he kept accidentally calling because Steve was weird and set up a landline and Bucky was always at home?

‘Yes’ was the answer, apparently, since Sam said, “Well. She. Kind of. Dumped. Me?”

“I thought you two were all right,” said Bucky, offended on Sam’s behalf.

“I thought so too!” said Sam, feeling vindicated, “But ‘all right’ wasn’t where she wanted to be. So, she dumped me.”

Sam felt eyes on him. Because he was on a train. And people eavesdropped. He tried not to think about that too hard.

“Okay, how are we handling this? Do I beat her up for you? Do we talk shit about her over a bunch of beers? Need a romcom to cry over? Do you like romcom movies? My favorite might be You’ve Got Mail, but it’s also kind of weird too. Do I need to send a meticulously written letter detailing how she made a terrible mistake?” asked Bucky, no hesitation, Sam smiling on the other side of the line.

Because it was sweet. Weird and sweet.

“No, she’s – we’re good. We’re surprisingly good,” said Sam, still confused by how little this was affecting him.

Sam sighed as he got off the train and found his way to the street. Brownstones and smaller apartment complexes dusted with snow spattered his view, with one small empty lot transformed into a combo vegetable garden and park a few brownstones down.

Sam could turn into that park. Maybe sit down near the snow and the slush. Assess his life and his choices. Maybe give himself a moment alone.

He didn’t, though.

He walked past it. He kept moving forward without much thought about where he would be next. He was pretty sure he knew where his feet would take him. But still. He wasn’t thinking about it.

“It’s weird, right?” continued Sam as he found his way to Steve’s apartment, “That I’m so okay with this? That I’m not feeling torn up?”

“Maybe she was right. Maybe it was for the best,” said Bucky softly, hesitantly.

Sam gazed up at Steve’s apartment.

Bucky’s too, Sam supposed.

Bucky was up there. Steve wasn’t. Or maybe he was?

No.

Steve would have hopped on the line if he was up there.

“Do you have any beers up there, Barnes?” asked Sam.

Sam watched as Bucky stumbled to his living room window and smushed his face into it to look at Sam. Sam wouldn’t say it was adorable. Okay. Maybe in that ugly way. Smushy, squishy chipmunk cheek pushed up onto that window as Bucky gazed down at Sam.

“What do you think?” asked Bucky, waving at Sam from above.

[local-fanfic-addict]

The Sea is Always Right

Elendil x Fem!Reader

Beauty and the Beast AU

Notes:  Romance, No Songs, Themes of Manipulation, Violence, Unwanted Romantic Advances, Depictions of Blood, Loose Plot, and Heavy Canon Divergence (Canon? Who’s she?.) Seriously, there's like… no RoP canon here. It’s almost all freeform. (It’s so I can add in references.)

Thank you all for being so patient with this upload! Next chapter is where the good stuff starts. If you would like to be on this fics tag list, let me know <3

{Chapter Two}

The journey through the open wilds took Celebrimbor a good few hours, the lovely rolling hills soon fading into a landscape with trees of dense foliage, dark and deep, the trees so close together that it made the forest look endless along the beaten road that led through it. The sun was setting fast, casting its radiant glow along the sea that lay below the cliffs that the road traveled along, weaving and winding through trees that clung to the cliff side with an iron grip.

Celebrimbor could see the storm clouds that were gathering overhead, urging Berek forward through the forest. It was strange, but he didn’t recognize this part of the forest at all, maybe they had taken a wrong turn somewhere? It had been quite the long time since Celebrimbor had gone to visit the Dwarves.

Perhaps it was in the way the sky had darkened, or the way that lightning flashed around him, but the road looked even more unfamiliar as it veered away from the coast and headed deeper inland. There wasn’t any way to go off the road easily, so Berek continued down the path, rain beginning to fall around them as the sky roared with thunder. Berek knickered, a nervousness surrounding him.

“It’s alright, it’s alright Berek. It’s just the sky singing.” Celebrimbor gave the horse a pat on the neck and a few calming elven words before urging him onwards under the canopy of branches as he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. It provided some shelter from the rain, for which he was thankful. The glow of the lantern that Celebrimbor held cast eerie shadows across the leaves of the trees, it would have been utterly dark aside from the occasional rays of the moon that broke through the cloud cover.

The wind had whipped into a rage, tossing leaves around them and biting through Celebrimbor's clothing, sending a chill to his bones. He wasn’t likely to get sick from it, but it was by no means a comfortable feeling. The rain had started to turn to snow, the chill even greater than before. There wasn’t a huge chance of there being any decent shelter around, but perhaps he could find something that would suffice enough to settle down in until the storm passed. Maybe even make something himself.

He contemplated his woes; he was probably lost, wondering if you were okay back home. This storm would most definitely delay his travels and he had no way of telling you he would be days late. 

“No, I’m sure she will be alright.” The Elf muttered aloud, if only to comfort himself, which it did very little in that regard. 

Despite your mostly quiet nature, you knew how to take care of yourself, you had watched the house on your own before and nothing seemed to have gone awry. Though he had never been away for more than a day. The Elf was immediately wrenched from his thoughts by the chilling howl of a wolf which grew in number until the voice of an entire pack could be heard through the wind, growing ever closer to him and Berek.

“Adon, Berek. Adon.” Celebrimbor tried to calm the horse, who was now spooked by the wolves call, his footing unsure. It worked only slightly, just enough that Berek started to sprint forward and away from the pack. The wolves silhouettes coming into view from the shadows, hot on Berek's tail, teeth bared and snarling.

The two weaved through the trees, over fallen branches, kicking up the snow that now lay thick on the ground. With only the loud crack of thunder on top of them as their warning, a bolt of lightning came down on one of the trees in front of the pathway, sending Berek into even more of a frenzy. He bucked and reared, forcefully throwing Celebrimbor from his back before taking off in the opposite direction with the spray of snow behind him, drawing some of the wolves away as they continued to chase their prey.

“Berek no!” Celebrimbor struggled to his feet, looking down the path as Berek disappeared into the frosty haze. 

The forest was eerily quiet for a moment before the wind picked up again and his eyes caught the remaining wolves that stayed to hunt him, lurking in the shadows watching him with hungry eyes. His steps were slow and cautious, like any sound he made would set the wolves on him in an instant. There was a stare down between them before he turned and ran, his Elven physique helping him far more than that of a human. His feet carried him to the iron gate of a great castle courtyard, seeming to just appear out of the haze before him. He wasn’t one to scorn salvation, so he all but dove through the gate and kicked it closed behind him, effectively blocking the wolves from tearing into him, their teeth catching on the iron with a loud clang and angry snarls. The Elf sat on the cobblestone ground, catching his wits and breath before he truly observed his surroundings. 

Now he found himself at the steps of a great castle, and he had no clue what lay inside. The castle that stood before him was immensely grand, with many high peaks sticking out like knives into the stormy air. He was surrounded by a vast garden, the gravel walkway leading into various sections like a spidery hand reaching out with boney fingers. It felt like a maze, and the exact detailing of both the Castle and its grounds was more than the eye could make out in the darkness and so it added to the mystery of the whole thing, not to mention its placement. How did a castle get all the way out here in the middle of nowhere? Who did it belong to? And why was it trapped in a wintry haze in the middle of the warm seasons?

“I suppose there’s no other choice than to see who lives here… Maybe I can borrow a horse if they have any.” Celebrimbor spoke to himself, staring up at the daunting sight before him. He wasn’t sure if there was anything living here, but the faint glow from inside told him there was at least a light source of some kind. 

He made his way to the wide staircase and started to climb through the snowfall until he reached the huge double doors who’s deep engravings seemed to come alive as his firm knock echoed into the halls beyond the door.

Seemingly of its own accord, the door swung open on its hinges with the strained creak of wood and metalwork that reverberated through the seemingly empty halls that spread out before him. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” He peered behind the door. Nothing to be seen. The decorations and architecture within the castle were just as beautiful as the design on the outside, the same pointed peaks evident in the make of the columns that held up the ceiling. Chipped paint covered parts of the ceiling, depictions of legends and stories of ages long passed sprawled across the stone of the arched hall, a bit hard to see through the dim lighting, but visible all the same. 

The furniture was a bit sparse, an ornate rug, a few tables and plush seats, a beautiful candelabra and clock that sat collecting dust on a table, illuminated by faintly lit lanterns that must have meant someone was home. 

Celebrimbor could hear faint voices, like whispers, carry through the eerie halls. At first he couldn’t make out what they said, but then he heard it-

“Elrond I swear if ya’ say another syllable, I’ll melt yer’ feathery candles down to the wick!” The voice was gruff, and not very good at whispering, but the Elf couldn’t tell where it was coming from. 

“Oh come now, Durin, the man is lost, and most likely tired! You saw that storm out there.”  Another voice replied, this one much kinder and lighter in tone, a contrast to the previous voice's deep accent.

Celebrimbor immediately had his head on a swivel, trying to find the origins of the voices, yet his eyes didn’t see anyone or anything, no shadows across the walls or the echoes of footsteps. Granted the lighting was terrible, but the voices were so close! They sounded almost right next to him, quite an unnerving experience in his opinion.

“I do apologize if I’m intruding, I’m just trying to escape the storm and return home.” His eyes landed on the shelved candelabra, spiraling designs twisted into its metal, its candles seemed to have been carved to look like plumes of feathers. It was one of the few light sources in the dim entryway, and so the Elf went to pick it up, holding it out in front of him for some more visibility into the dark.

“I will be on my way once the storm passes, but I would very much appreciate a place to stay until then?”

“Of course! I could not deny a weary traveler his rest!” Elrond spoke within the grasp of the Elf, much to the dismay of Durin. 

Celebrimbor’s eyes followed the voice, widening at the origins of it. For a second, he almost dropped the candelabra, a shocked gasp leaving his mouth. Surely this object wasn’t the one to speak? He had to have misheard, or he was imagining things, right? He looked more intently at the supposedly inanimate object for any indication that it was not so.

“What are you staring at? Do I have wax on my face?” Elrond returned Celebrimbor's gaze and spoke to him again. 

“I… Was unaware that objects like yourself… well… spoke? Are you alive?” The Elf questioned.

“That there is a very complicated question, stranger. One ye’ don’t warrant the answer to.” Durin spoke up, the clock wadling off the table and onto the floor to follow Celebrombor, who looked thoroughly surprised at the appearance of yet another talking object. 

“My friend is right, I’m afraid all we can offer you is a warm fire to bask in front of for the time being.” Elrond began to speak, only for Durin to hurry the conversation along, clearly impatient.

“Which, in ma opinion, we shouldn’t even be givin’ ye’ in the first place!” The clock complained.

“Oh hush now, Durin. Would you rather we send him back out into the cold?” Elrond gave his friend a stern look, refusing to be moved on this matter. 

“I’ll throw you out into the cold…” Durin grumbled, a huff leaving his mouth before he threw his clock appendages into the air and took the lead towards the sitting room.

“Fine. Go and warm yourself by that there fire, but yer’ owed nothing else. Ye’re lucky I’m in such a good mood, or I'd’a kicked ye’ to the steps before ye’ could say ‘Ale’ regardless of what the candle says.” Durin caved, knowing Elrond would ignore his warning anyways.

“Candelabra, Durin! Do I look like a simple lump of wax to you?”

“At’s all I see in between yer’ ears.” Durin countered, though there was clearly no malice behind his words.

Elrond laughed.

“Just as I see only cogs between yours.”

Celebrimbor listened to the banter that carried on between the two with a raised brow, following Durin down the dim hallway, all the while he gave many wary glances towards the massive double staircase that lay at its end before they entered an adjacent room where a fire roared in the hearth. The Elf wandered into what appeared to be the sitting room of the castle, just as decorated as the rest of the structure, several large bookshelves lined the walls, a great chair placed before the fire, claw footed, and covered in soft blue velvet fit for royalty with scaled detailing along its back. There didn’t appear to be any other seating, so that is where Celebrimbor opted to sit, setting Elrond down and settling in with much grumbling from Durin, who seemed to now regret agreeing with Elrond to give Celebrimbor shelter.

“First the masters chair, an’ then what? His food?” He muttered, going to rejoin Elrond by the fire. 

“I must make a request once you leave, traveler.” Elrond spoke up to Celebrimbor, his flame flickering gently. 

“What is it?” The Elf asked, finally feeling some of the warmth return to his hands.

“You must forget about this place once you leave, never speak of it to anyone and you must forget us, do you understand?” The candelabra spoke solemnly and waited for the affirmation of Celebrimbor, to which he gave an equally solemn nod, notfeeling the urge to ask questions. Feeling satisfied with the Elf’s answer, both of the servants started to head into a side door that led into the kitchen. 

Coincidentally, the very same door was flung open as they readied themselves to exit the sitting room, a tea cart rolling out without any assistance and no one behind it. Upon it there was placed a set of small saucers, a cup, and an ornate teapot among the various kinds of tea that was seemingly being offered as the cart rolled to a stop next to Celebrimbor.

“Goodness, Elrond. You couldn’t have told me sooner that we had a guest? He’s chilled to the bone I see.” The teapot slid her way towards the Elf, who was once again confused. Did everything in the castle talk? Was the crown molding on the ceiling's edges going to come to life at some point?

The teapot's voice was full of concern, tapping the small teacup that seemed to have a slim chip on its edge.

“Up you get, Theo. Gently now.” She ushered her son towards the Elf, hot water steaming from within as a strainer sat to steep.

“We were just coming to tell you, Bronwyn, that is if Durin didn’t kick the poor man out first.” Elrond regained his composure from almost being knocked over with the sudden opening of the door, pulling Durin up as well.

“Look, I just don’t want any o’ us to get in’a any trouble. Much less oor traveling friend.” He added the last part rather quietly, though it was true. 

“No matter, the master can say what he wants, but I’ll not turn down a guest out lost in the cold.” Bronwyn said sternly, with a smile that only a teapot could give. Odd, Celebrimbor had never in his wildest dreams thought that he would see inanimate objects smile so.

“That sounds familiar, oh yes, I said the exact same thing to Durin a moment ago!” Elrond quipped, nudging his ticking friend who was having none of it.

“Don’t ye’ start now, or I might put a dent in yer’ fancy gold paint!”

“I’d like to see you try, with those stubby wooden arms-“

“Why I outta carve out yer’ wicks-“

“Not if I scorch off your varnish!”

“Knock it off you two, now's not the time for bickering nor banter!” Bronwyn silenced them and brought the two of them from the brink of more arguing with a sharp tone, hoping to quiet them down before they alerted the master, as these halls echoed, and the master was prone to wandering as he pleased within the great walls of the castle.

Elrond and Durin seemed to catch on suddenly as they heard their voices echo, giving each other a wary and apologetic look.

None of them could imagine what would happen should the master find them with this stranger, but each knew that with the master's temper, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight and that Elrond would most likely blame himself for it.

Unfortunately the damage had already been done, their voices drifted into the empty halls and reached the keen ears of the cursed being that lay trapped to the confines of the castle of his own accord. The pointed fangs upon his lower jaw upturned, and his head reared in the direction of the noises; his padded feet were quiet as they made their way down the stairs, a bunched cloak billowing behind him in tattered state, dark blues and gold embellishments showed it was once a fine piece, now ruined by the lack of care given by its owner.

With a low snarl from his clenched jaws, he made his way into the sitting room, casting a shadow against the fireplace as one of his clawed hands reached for the armrest of his chair to see who dared to occupy it. A guttural growl emerged when he spotted his servants entertaining this trespasser, who’s face seemed to have gone white, and with good reason. 

Celebrimbor barely made eye contact with the massive beast before he was snatched up by one massive paw-like hand by the front of his shirt, long claws threatening to pierce flesh and bone. The Elf could barely make out all the horrible details about the beast’s appearance, but he wasn’t given much time to ponder them as a deep voice spoke with pride, though clearly laced with anger.

“What are you doing here, trespasser? Stealing from me, perhaps?” This was clearly a creature who did not intend to hear Celebrimbor out, his grip on the Elf’s tunic only tightened as the Elf spoke fearfully.

“No, no- please, I don’t intend to steal from you-“ 

“Master, he was just looking for shelter.” Bronwyn's voice spoke up, though she knew it wouldn’t let the Elf go free, it might spare his life.

“Shelter? You harbored him? Here?” The anger in the beast’s voice was growing with every word, claws constricting in the same manner, ever closer to wounding.

“I told the lot o’ them it wasn’t a good idea, but I’m never listened to.” Durin started, only to be silenced by the loud roar of the beast has his anger boiled over, Elrond placing a candled appendage on Durins shoulder to stop him from making things worse.

“It was I who let him in, master, I could not, in good conscience, let the storm claim him.” He spoke up, no regret in his voice, for he knew he had done the right and kind thing to do.

“You?! I should have guessed. Can you not listen to me, any of you?!” His roar caused most of his staff to flinch in one way or another, though none of them would answer him.

“He will pay for your sins then, Elrond. Perhaps that will teach you to listen to me.” The beast lifted Celebrimbor into the air like he was made of nothing more than paper, his eyes boring into the Elf as Celebrimbor pleaded for his release, but to no avail, his cries fading into the halls of the castle as he was taken high into one of the towers, leaving the servants to mourn the fate of the Elven traveler, with some feeling more responsible than others for his predicament.

[remidyal]

Perspective Flip: 12 hours

BTS: Missing

Fusion Dance: High fantasy (like Tolkien style), Dreams

OKAY you're getting slightly shorter ones since you did three but I'm also thrilled to do all of these. By its nature there will be some spoilers for all three of these stories in this post, though the scene from Dreams is fairly early on in that fic and so is the chapter from Missing:

Twelve Hours, Aelwyn's perspective near the end.

Aelwyn's fingers itched as the ritual to settle the seven of them back in time worked. She'd been preparing for this day for a long, long while, not just for what happened during the ritual - hard enough, certainly enough to exhaust any normal wizard - but for what would need to happen after.

Kalina had never approached her during the time stop. Hopefully, that meant Kalina had no idea what was happening during the time stop, no idea of Aelwyn's growth as a wizard, of her freedom from the Geas that she'd been forced to put on herself, of any of it. Aelwyn had had five years to get ready for this, to try to get away from everything and everyone that had bound her.

The only sad part of it, much as she hated to admit it, was that she'd have to turn on Adaine one more time, but it wasn't like she was really betraying her. She was just… not going to go to prison.

Maybe she'd invite Adaine, eventually. With the extra years of training and all the information she'd given, they should have no trouble with Kalvaxus, at least; Aelwyn herself had looked into places that might be reasonable to set herself up. Outside of Solace, for a start. There was a lake isolated in the woods of the baronies that she might be able to do something with.

Maybe she would build a tower.

She turned to Adaine, now that the world was moving once more around them, now that Adaine was talking about having to deal with the fallout of half a decade and half a day ago, and was shocked to find that there were tears in her own eyes as she went to say goodbye, in her own way.

"…Aah. Adaine. It's fine. I've learned.. I've learned a lot of really important things, these past few years. About how important it is to have others helping you, and about how much I might have hurt.. you and others. And I am sorry for that. I do love you. But most importantly, I've learned… I've learned from Arthur Aguefort that if you're a powerful enough wizard and you have enough wards on your house, you can get away with any number of crimes and the government can't really stop you."

She was proud of her sister; Adaine at least made a try at a counterspell, which was better than any of those other suckers. She'd send an invite in a few months, after all.

NEXT! A bit of commentary on a chapter for Missing. I'm going to do this on the first chapter:

Missing is a much more fly-by-night fic than my other big D20 multichapter, Lunacy. Lunacy I have known how it will end since before I started writing it, though the path it's been planned to take has changed more than a few times. There were three big 'event' scenes that were signposts for me - Adaine biting Aelwyn and the two of them having their conversation in the jail, Aelwyn's rescue and subsequently the detect thoughts, and then the climatic end sequence that is as yet undisclosed to anybody.

Missing, I started with a beginning and it's kind of playing out from there, though there are a few notes I knew I wanted to hit. Specifically, that the girls would start with a decent amount of resources but lose those over time to ill fortune and to not being prepared for the streets, and then coming back into their own through struggles. I also knew I wanted to make this version of Aelwyn braver, but not necessarily THAT much braver. She makes the choice to help Adaine, after years of not acting, but she was strongly considering running away herself anyways, and it's only because she's literally watched her sister almost die repeatedly to her father that she finally snapped and ran.

That being said, it's still a bold choice, and maybe not the wisest one. For this story, centered on two characters who are INCREDIBLY young especially for the first stretch, it's pretty important to me that they make mistakes and foolish choices at the same time as they're also acting incredibly brave and resourceful and having what is, really, an adventure of sorts. Aelwyn's planned, and prepared, but it should be obvious on many thoughts from an adult's perspective reading that she simply HASN'T considered everything; she's got in many ways a very sheltered upbringing, and one that a few months sneaking out can't really cover up. (This is why she has a -2 wisdom.) Adaine's usually a bit more thought through, in spite of being younger, but she's going to make errors and plenty of them too.

In general, I think the first chapter does a very good job establishing all of this - that Aelwyn's just a bit bolder, why that's enough for her to run and take Adaine, that she hasn't really got a plan for what to do next beyond just 'have some money', and that she's truly justified and right to take the action she does here.

Last, a request was made for a scene from Dreams in a Tolkein-esque High Fantasy style, and.. this one is I think going to be the worst of these three, haha. Not really my style, but… Have Adaine and Riz meeting for the first time in that sort of setting rather than in school, with Kalina whispering in Riz's ear.

It was a dark night in the district near the inn, where Riz regularly kept his eyes out to make certain nothing was going to disturb the town. Kalina had convinced him long ago that making a fuss wasn't helpful, but it was still best for him to watch for people who might commit crimes, who might cause trouble in the town… his mother had been entrusted with the village's safety, after all, and it was on him to help her out with that job.

So he definitely noticed the small figure that was moving towards the inn, seeming to try to go unseen as it moved through the shadows. "Kalina, can you go look?"

Kalina, invisible to everyone but himself and his mother, strode across the street, even as the figure turned a corner and smacked into one of the mercenaries that had been staying at the inn face first. They were only a little taller than the soldier's waist, and seemed to shrink down as he started to berate them, the hood of the cloak slipping off to reveal a child's face and matted blonde hair.

"It's just some elf girl." Kalina said, dismissively, returning to his side. "Probably an orphan, to look at her."

Riz nodded, and then strode across the street to help her out, offering her a hand - she was shorter than he'd thought? - and then glaring up at the man who'd been berating her. "It was just an accident, leave her alone."

"Orphan kids always have sticky fingers! Your mother will hear about this." But he stormed off, and left the elf alone.

Riz glanced over. She was maybe his age, he thought - there weren't many elves around here to judge by - and she'd burst into tears at some point. "Hey, hey. Do you need help? I'm Riz. Riz Gukgak."

"I'm.. I'm Adaine." The girl said, before crying harder. "And I can't use my family's name anymore."

[potterandpromises]

sorry for not winning you an arcade ring: chapter 4

In which I do not let Theo rest.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Also on AO3

(Picks up directly after the last chapter)

In the passenger seat, Theo avoids looking at the others and regrets not finding his own way home.

The car starts, and Will sets his phone in Theo’s lap. It’s open to the new contact page.

He stares at it.

What had the letter said? that Will felt bad Theo didn’t know? It’s not exactly an invitation for dinner with the family. But he hasn’t entirely, outright rejected Theo either. That’s what kills him. It would be easier if he’d informed Theo of the relation coldly via the US postal service. Hell, it’d be easier if Will had welcomed him with open arms, then all he’d have to do is refuse or decide to go along with it. As it stands, he has no idea how to respond.

He gives it several seconds of deliberation, and decides to give Will his number. It’s just practical. He could always block him later, if the want arises. He enters his name as Theo Dimas, in case Will knows more then one Theo, and hands it over without eye contact.

Desperate for a distraction, he pulls out his own phone.

Mabel texted. He won’t dwell on the immense relief the name ‘M. M.’ gives him.

Things are okay here. Charles only had one nosebleed so far, my mom threw a tissue at him. You?

The corners of Theo’s lips turn up. He doesn’t let himself second guess his message.

Will just told me he’s my half brother.

She responds immediately.

?????

Well, at least he isn’t the last person in New York to know.

Sorry, I’m sure Oliver will fill you in.

The typing bubble lingers too long.

How are you doing?

It’s a good question.

I don’t know.

In the mirror, Oliver pulls out his phone. It could be a coincidence, of course, but Theo imagines it’s a text from Mabel, wonders if she correctly guessed what happened or if she’s asking Oliver if he fucked Theo’s mom.

He bites back a laugh, barely, feels something like a cough escape. He could have lived his whole life without imagining that. Not with this crowd, apparently.

He reads up through his and Mabel’s short text chain without thinking about it, comes to: I promise I won’t keep showing up at your door just because I want something.

It beguiles him, that sentence, her; and scares him. He still doesn’t know what she meant.

A new message: I’m here if you want to talk about it.

So, he’s not alone. She’s there for him. Even as that thought cozies him, another sinks it’s teeth in: is it for the best? For years he didn’t let himself have close relationships. The risk, if they discovered the worse half of his job, was just too great.

But, that’s over now.

Thanks.

Will, in Theo’s peripheral, looks calmer now that he’s unburdened himself of his secret. Would he have been eaten alive, had Teddy raised him? Or would his dad not have dragged a hearing son into the family side business, and let him carve his own path?

Would Will have put up with it, the way Theo had?

New questions— probably unanswerable— for him to rotate in his mind at night.

In the backseat, Oliver gets into some story of his— something about a ‘Judy,’ possibly— Will smiles and the world feels a little more ordered.

Still, they pull up to the Arconia and Theo doesn’t linger for goodbyes.

He walks a dozen feet down the street, towards the subway, and someone grabs his forearm, fingers squeezing.

The stranger says something, anger lining her face. Theo points to his ear, shakes his head, and reaches for his wallet.

“— know you’re deaf.”

Theo tries to recall this woman’s face, keeps his hand in his pocket. If she’d ever been at the funeral home, he doesn’t remember her.

“So pay attention when I tell you— ruined my— ‘s life.” He’s not in danger, probably. He can take this, should take it. “—in pain.” He swallows. “You caused that.”

He glances behind her, tries to determine how loud she’s being.

Oh.

Oliver is staring. Mabel pushes past him.

The family resemblance is clear. It’s the same tension, the same anger. Theo cups the back of his neck, steps backward.

He thinks he sees the words ‘don’t’ and ‘have to help me’ on Mabel’s lips but that could be wishful thinking. He won’t stick around. This is between mother and daughter. He turns away, walks quickly.

No one stops him.

—

He goes home— back to his own apartment, that is, and sinks into his bed.

A sob convulses through him, aches his abdomen. It dissipates as quickly as it came.

He stares at the calling, imagines, for some reason, the spreading brown stain of decomposition. He hasn’t even taken off his shoes, much less his jacket. He’ll have to wash the comforter, later.

His phone vibrates in his pocket.

Mabel.

Would his stomach not be leadened if it were someone else?

I’m really, really sorry about that. My mom has issues with boundaries.

A twitch of a smile graces his lips. How relatable; he doesn’t write.

I understand. Don’t worry about it. I have some stuff to take care of today and tomorrow.

He sends the text before he can promise himself to her for the future. She might not want him anymore. He might get hit by a bus.

Or fall off a roof.

He turns his phone off.

He really does have work to do, spreadsheets to stare through. He’ll take a videophone call in the evening, a zoom meeting in the morning.

For dinner, he eats mildly questionable leftover deli food. He sleeps fitfully. (Slip or push, slip or push, slip or push.)

When he feels okay, and when he isn’t thinking about Mabel, or about the case, it’s almost like nothing’s changed.

Almost.

[aeoki]

Ghostic: Exorcism - Chapter 3

Location: Medical Office Characters: Touri, Yuzuru, Keito, Eichi, Wataru & Tatsumi

TL Note:

Grab a log: This is a line from the manga “Higanjima” (Island of Paramita) where logs are deemed to be an all-purpose weapon.

Yuzuru: *Zzz…*

Hm…?

(...I’ve fallen asleep before I realised. My head feels clouded… It appears I must have been in quite a deep sleep.)

(I have a lesson late into the night today, so I can rest for a bit longer here.)

(But I can’t seem to calm down seeing as there is nothing for me to do. Since I’m here, I can find some work to do at the very least. I should order a new glass after the Young Master broke it yesterday.)

(The smartphone truly is such a convenient item in such times. I can even purchase everyday cutlery on the internet.)

(This helps a great deal as it allows me to complete miscellaneous matters so easily. Perhaps I have a chronic disease where I do not have the time to steer away from my work…♪)

(Order complete. It might be a good idea to search for the Young Master’s new phone while I’m at it.)

(There has been quite a number of dangerous happenings in the world recently. I suppose I do wish to attach a transmitter to the Young Master’s phone in order to protect him…)

(No. That may be too overprotective. It seems I’m still quite guarded after the strange incident last night.)

(I’ve told myself over and over that psychic phenomena are all psychological.)

(But doing nothing will only cause me to succumb to my paranoia. I feel very uneasy when I think about how the Young Master might be in danger.)

(I shall return to practice and shake off these wicked thoughts. They should all be understanding if I told them, “I have recovered after a small nap”.)

Location: ES Halloween Stage (fine)

Touri: GYAAAAH!

Eeeeeeeeeeek!

S-Save me! I’m so scared!

What’s up with all these things~? There are shadows, mysterious handprints, distressing music and props!

It feels like anxiety and despair are taking turns to close in on me as if they’re sneering at me!

A genius entertainer? Yeah, right!

I bet that Long-hair’s gleefully doing all the things I hate. I feel like my emotions have gone on a rollercoaster~! 

Keito: Calm down, Himemiya. Hearing you scream so close to me hurts my ears and I can’t stand it.

If you clear your mind of all worldly thoughts, even fire will feel cool. Don’t be so agitated, keep calm and–

Touri: Now’s not the time to be saying that! Scary things are scary!

K-Kazehaya-senpai! Hold my hand, okay!? Don’t you dare let go next time!

Tatsumi: Of course. I shall not make the same mistake again.

Oh? The light is reflecting off that spot over there. It looks as though a white sheet is being hung over something but… could that be the exit?

Touri: The exit? Yay! Let’s get outta here ♪

Keito: Wait. Look closely at that white cloth… isn’t it moving?

Touri: Which means–

A GHOOOOOOST!?

Eichi: Yup. Touri is reacting exactly as I hoped he would.

It looks like the ghost Wataru set up is indeed working as intended. It seems the “ES Haunted House” will be quite promising.

Wataru: The lighting may be under construction so it seems a torch is enough to guide the way through the path.

They will be able to enjoy it perfectly if the lights are constructed before the big day.

An Amazing haunted house presented by us “fine”. I’m looking forward to the actual opening ♪

Eichi: It’s a huge attraction we spent all our efforts on, after all. If anything, we’d only be upset if people don’t enjoy it.

Now, all that’s left is the saloon, in order words, this room. It’ll only spoil the fun if we show ourselves, so let’s hide in a different room in the meantime.

A poltergeist phenomenon awaits them everywhere in this saloon.

Then, the ghosts of the mansion’s residents will float from their paintings and beckon those who pass through the haunted house to come to the other side…

It’s our final big trick: making them feel as though they have succumbed to the domination of the ghosts. I’m sure even this will surprise Keito and Kazehaya-kun.

Wataru: Fufufu, I’d love to see them struck with terror! I wonder how they’ll react to it…♪

Eichi: Yeah, I’m sure Keito will–

Hm?

Wataru: A phone call? Perhaps it’s one of the construction workers?

Eichi: No, it’s from an unknown caller. I wonder who it could be at a time like this? I’ll answer it.

………

It seems it’s a silent phone call. Maybe it’s someone’s prank. There are only a handful of people who have my number, though.

Wataru: Which means someone called your number by mistake? It’s possible they panicked and hung up the moment they heard your voice.

Eichi: Fufu. Maybe a revengeful spirit had enough of the “ES Haunted House” and decided to show itself.

Wataru: Surely not…!

If that is to be true, that would be terrifying! Perhaps our souls have already been taken from us in this mansion…!

Have you already secured the escape route, Eichi? Let us immediately grab a log of wood[*] each and meet up with everyone else!

Eichi: Ahaha. You’re overreacting. There’s no way I would have something like that ♪

Everyone seeks the answers to everything, despite the fact that there are a number of unexplainable things in this world.

I’m sure any kind of phenomenon has a reason behind it. We simply don’t know the cause.

And I think psychic phenomena are the best example of that.

Wataru: Oh, I thought you would join me in my little act. What a shame. 

However, I can see that you’re enjoying this enigma. Things such as our dreams and imaginations can save people who are distressed in reality, after all.

Let’s make the “ES Haunted House” a success, Eichi.

Eichi: Fufu. Why are you saying all this now?

You are I – we are accomplices who bear the sin of terrifying others, aren’t we?

Together, let us watch over Touri and the others as they reach their goal, Wataru ♪

Wataru: Yes. Let’s enjoy ourselves until the very end. Enigmas shall remain enigmas.

← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[455wwwww]

HOWS IT GOIN ENRI

tl;dr: it goin.

me, late 2020: oh hey let's dig up those ancient drafts i had for that one untitled sci-fi/cyberpunk project. wow thats fucking dusty but man my girl A. deserves to be known by the world and i need a distraction from various work/life shit. what can go wrong right?

me, early 2021: what the fuck. enri from circa 2012 you were NOT cooking. and DUDE you did poor A. so dirty! thankfully me from 2021 can fix it all as it's nothing. that's surely possible after eight or nine year break from writing. on the account of me being once critically acclaimed author (two of my acquaintances liked my stuff).

me, early 2022: okay i have a very rough outline and a ~vision~. it'll be a relatively short novel, only about 10 chapters or so. 15 tops. 120,000 words, maybe 150,000. there'd be occasional angst and some speckles of fucked up shit, but it's gonna be pretty lighthearted in general. not saying the ending is truly happy, but it's not bad either.

me, late 2022: fuck yeah FUCK YEAH it's all coming together i am genius and my friends liked that one short story set in the same universe :) THEY LIKED A. TOO I AM GOD OF WRITING

me, early 2023: enri from 2022 had a massive skill issue and we're scraping almost everything that dumbass thought to be actually good. also no way it's gonna be 150,000 words or 15 chapters, i'm already at those numbers and it's not even a half of what i have to say. also hey. sorry to break it to you but A. needs more depth. and your MC is pathetically bland. like i understand that initially the guy had nothing but his name and what, two lines of brief description? whatever. that's not how we work. go and write at least 5 short stories about his past. and 5 more about A.'s daily life and such. yeah yeah put them in situations. more. more. MORE.

me, mid-2023: please stop putting these guys in situations. this is getting out of hand. please go back to the main story. your stupid little sketchy comics won't do it. you're writing a novel. for fucks sake just get back to writing the main thing. no more side stories. and it's just me or the whole thing gotten much darker lately? nah. impossible. there's even more jokes now. whats gallows humor.

my proofreader: hey and what if [redacted] ended up a traitor?

me: BRO NO. WHAT. NO.

me (hours later, smoking on the balcony): damn that would actually slap... FINE, new canon accepted. aw shit, the ending is definitely far from happy now.

me, early 2024: so. good news: MC and A. both are fucking clowns now. unhinged little shits. cringefail disastrous assholes. i am very normal about them both. bad news: there's so much to rewrite it's killing me. i am constantly rolling that stupid rock and to no avail. this is version 12 or maybe 16 or maybe 82728384 of the first three chapters. i stopped keeping count on 9th. this is hell. the light in my eyes is fading just as it had faded in the story itself. one day i'll be free. one day i'll submit the first chapter to my proofreader again.

me, mid 2024 (we're here now): *slaps the draft* 70 chapters. 65 if we're lucky. not looking at the word count anymore. come what may. there's only one ending to this story and it feels like eating glass. libreoffice crashed once again but we stay silly. the size of all additional materials, notes, outlines and such combined is more than i initially anticipated the whole story to be. it's fine. it's going to be fine. the path still remains to be walked but the route is clear. and we're going to make it. we're going to make it. no matter what awaits at the end. there could never be another ending.

[itsbrandy]

Burnout Chapter 14

A/N: Final chapter in the series. Please read Dieter's POV after if you'd like!

Word Count: 23.8k (It's a doozy!)

End of Series song: Adventure Of A Lifetime - Coldplay

Chapter 14: A True Hidden Gem

Shaking hands, cellphone hot against her palm, Bee waded through the crowd of cast and crew to try to catch her breath. Dieter tried to follow her at first, worried by her sudden change in mood, but Claire insisted on Bee leaving alone. And thank God for Claire—she wasn’t ready to explain to Dieter just how big of a mess she was about to deal with.

What were the consequences of this news getting out? Maybe she should call her agent yet…or maybe that was a little bit dramatic. After all, it was probably only like 8 a.m. in Los Angeles. It was bad enough her ex was about to get a rude awakening with this phone call. It was blackmail, it was slander. Well, not quite. It certainly felt like slander but doesn’t slander have to be untrue?

And it was true.

She had searched for those things. She had been a fan, and kind of an insane fan. But now she wasn’t, and honestly, Dieter mostly knew that she had liked his work before they met in person. He just didn’t know the full extent. He had no clue about the sleepless nights, the borderline obsessive nature, or the way her nails tapped against the screen, desperate for more content.

“Fuck!” Bee screamed, kicking at a medium-sized rock as she walked.

Her thin shoes offered little protection from the hardness of the rock, but she welcomed the pain. It was a reminder that she was still here, and when she looked up at the gorgeous gardens of the historical British estate, she decided that none of it mattered.

She was going to get harassed by Dieter’s fans anyway. They would hate her, wishing they were her, crying in bed at night and reading fan fiction about a world where she never existed—a world where it was them with him instead.

And Bee was okay with that. She knew that was the reality of dating Dieter Bravo. In fact, she more than anyone knew the feeling, she’d been there herself. Was it really so bad if the news got out? Likely not for her relationship, but most likely for her career. And with that thought, she dialed her ex’ s number and stomped back toward the searing hot room she shared with Claire, along the path of gravel and rows of rose bushes.

“Answer me, you asshole,” she hissed, clicking on his stupid name every time the call refused to go through.

She checked the time, and it was 9 a.m. over in the states. On a work day? No excuse. The bastard owned his own damn business unless it had folded in the time since they broke up. Bee grinned at the thought of it.

Finally, the ring tone went through, paused, and then the static of the line connecting reached her ears.

“Hello?” Her ex boyfriend answered sleepily.

“Yeah, ‘Hello’ is right,” Bee snapped. “You sure had no problem texting me a thousand times, but I can’t call you?”

“Oh, Bee,” he said, and she could imagine his stupid smirk on his face. “That’s your name now, right? Now you want to call me and act civil?”

“I’ve been working on a no phones allowed set, dumbass,” Bee snapped. “And I said nothing about acting civil. I’m calling about you threatening me, and I won’t hesitate to involve the proper authorities.”

Her ex laughed on the other line. “What? You want to send me to jail over telling your new boyfriend the truth?”

Yes. Maybe. Kind of. All Bee knew was that she was mad, and she wanted to put him in his place. How dare he come for the singular slice of happiness that she had managed to secure for herself in her adult life. Everything up to this point had felt either too fragile, too temporary, or too crushingly permanent.

Only now she felt safe, and out of jealousy, he wanted to take it from her.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stop harassing me and trying to interfere in my life,” Bee promised. She came to a stop along the path and fiddled with the soft, velvet feeling petal of a pale pink rose. “You need to calm down, take a breather, and focus on yourself. I’m not yours anymore and I never will be. It doesn’t matter if Dieter leaves me tomorrow, I will never in a million years come crawling back to you.”

“You wouldn’t?” Her ex asked.

Bee laughed. She tried her best to bite it back, but the laugh still escaped her lips. “Yeah, dude, I would rather die than go back to the way things were before.”

“But what if things were different?” He asked. “What if I did better by you? I would pay more attention, I would make more money. I might even support this whole Hollywood thing.”

Might. Of course her having a career that made her successful would be only a possibility in his eyes.

“Sure,” she lied, wanting to see his reaction.

“Sure?”

“What are you crazy? You think after all you’ve done, and all of those awful texts you’ve sent me, that I’m just going to let you back into my life?” She ripped the rose petal from the rose, palming it in her hands. She’d never seen roses like this in L.A. It was the perfect metaphor for the conversation she was having. “You’re delusional if you think so. I’m happier now. I’m safe now and the security that I have isn’t suffocating. You suffocated me. You put me into a box that stifled my potential, and you scared me. Don’t you know that?”

Her ex stayed silent on the other line.

“I was afraid of you!” She almost-yelled. “I was worried every day of fucking up, of upsetting you by deviating from our soul-crushing routine. What will he say if I want to go out to dinner with a friend or for a drink? ‘No.’ He would say ‘no’ and then I would have to cower and apologize and tell you I wasn’t cheating over and over and over.”

She paused. Still no response.

“I had to do everything you wanted at any given moment. I was more servant than girlfriend, don’t you get that? And I’m so happy, genuinely happy, that I’m not treated that way anymore,” she said. “Thank God.”

“Okay,” her ex said on the other line. “I’m just gonna leak it all then.”

Bee laughed, tears springing to the corner of her eyes. “Really?”

How could he be so cruel? How could he be so utterly selfish? She had just spilled her soul, told him about why she couldn’t bear it, why she didn’t want to go back, and he still couldn’t just leave her the fuck alone.

“Yeah, really,” he said. “I’ve got nothing to lose, right? As long as you’re happy with him, you won’t see reason. So I’ll just make sure you’re not happy with him anymore.”

That was not what Bee wanted to hear, by any means. It was evil, it was cruel, but no matter what life threw her way, she promised now that she would address it head on.

“Okay,” she said. “Cool. Do your thing, I guess. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

It was a lie. Bee didn’t exactly have a lawyer. There was a lawyer who worked for her agent, Mark, but that was the contract type of lawyer. She was sure Mark could probably help with all of this, though. And if she needed to, she would find a lawyer on her own—they could send a scary letter or something, something that might scare him from actually following through on it.

“Okay, cool,” her ex repeated. “Sounds good.”

“Yup,” Bee said. “Sounds great.”

“Uh huh,” he teased. “Goodbye, Bee. I’ll be thinking of you. I’m sure you’ll be thinking of me now, too.”

“Crazy,” she hissed. “I won’t be.”

But that was a lie. He would be on her mind—at least for a little while. She had to sort out this mess before her show aired, before this got out to the press. And she hadn’t even dealt with the fact that her and Dieter had been revealed being close to one another after that stupid car accident.

She pulled her phone away from her ear and hung up on her ex. He was pissed at her anyway so there was no point in sticking around on the line trying to appease him. Footsteps on gravel from behind her forced her feet forward, in pursuit of her and Claire’s shared room. She dialed Mark, her agent, as she walked.

Unlike her ex-boyfriend, her agent answered swiftly.

“Good morning, Bee!” He said happily. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from one of my favorite clients?”

Bee grinned. Okay, Mark, there’s no need to butter her up that badly—but she had just made him a ton of cash on commission. If the roles were reversed, he’d be her favorite client, too.

“Hi Mark,” she said. “I unfortunately don’t think I’m going to be your favorite client today.”

Mark was silent for a heartbeat, long enough for Bee to reach the door of the housing portion of the historical manor they were staying at.

“Uh oh, is everything okay?” He asked. “Is this about the car crash photos? I haven’t had the chance to talk about that. We can implement a PR strategy to try to get that to go away, if you and Dieter want to. I’m sure he’s already talking to his people about it.”

Bee made a face. It kind of hurt to think about Dieter making a similar call, desperately trying to get his PR team to spin the story away. Part of her wanted to hold his hand in public, dressed in sunglasses and sweatpants in paparazzi photos like all of the superstar couples. Maybe someday, though.

“Um, no, actually, I don’t know about that, but I kind of have something that might be a bigger PR priority,” Bee said, fiddling with the rose petal in her hands. She walked down the hallway, past ornate paintings and arrangements of fresh flowers straight from the garden. Her room was on the second floor, so she started toward the stairway.

The connection crackled as she approached it, so she paused, making sure there was no one else in the hall. Everyone else should still be back at the hall.

“Are you still there, Mark?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m still here. Let me know what’s going on. I’m all ears.”

“Okay, I don’t know if you know, but I have a crazy ex,” Bee laughed. “Which normally is not relevant but—“

“Oh, it’s relevant,” Mark promised. “It’s okay, I’m well accomplished with this song and dance. Men are the absolute worst. Horrible creatures. What is he doing? Is he blackmailing you?”

“Yeah, he is,” Bee admitted. “I’m so stupid, it’s really stupid and embarrassing.”

“Career ruining embarrassing?” Mark inquired. “Like how bad?”

“Um,” Bee considered it. “Not like something that would be able to ruin my career, but I think it might look bad?”

“Okay, that I can work with. What is it? Also, are you okay? I know this is tough and can be really emotionally difficult, especially with the long hours you’ve been working on set,” Mark said. “I’m really sorry you’re going through this.”

“It’s okay, thank you, Mark,” Bee said. “Um, so before I met Dieter, before all of this, I was in a lot of fan groups. So, basically, my ex found my search history and he wants to leak it all and break Dieter and I up for good and turn his fans on me, all of that good stuff.”

“And how did he tell you this? In writing?” Mark asked.

“In text message,” Bee said.

“That counts!” Mark said excitedly. “Can you send me the screenshots? I’ll get to work with our attorneys ASAP. And I’ll need his full name and address. Don’t even worry about it, I’ve got it covered.”

Bee let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Mark.”

“But,” Mark said, pausing to clear his throat. “I do think you might need to do some legwork yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Bee asked, stomach sinking.

“I think it might be smartest to tell Dieter,” Mark said. “In case this gets out, you should probably get ahead of it.”

“You really think so?” From down the hall, the door opened, and cast and crew alike flooded into the building in search of a rest break before dinner.

“Yeah,” Mark said. “It’s best to just be honest with those in your circle in case something leaks. I’ll need to notify the PR team for Netflix so that they can work with our PR person, too. If anything ever gets messy, it’s best to just be honest about it. At least behind the scenes. Don’t be jumping on Twitter about all this.”

Bee laughed, eyes trained down the hall. She didn’t want anyone to catch her or question her about why she was talking about lawyers and blackmail.

She heaved a sigh. “Okay, Mark. I’ll think about talking to him. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Of course,” Mark said. “I’m here for whatever you need, any time, any place. Give Claire my love, okay? I haven’t heard from her in ages.”

“You know why, Mark,” Bee said. “No phones, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. “But she can call me now!”

“True, I’ll tell her. Thanks again, Mark. Have a good day,” Bee said.

“See ya, Bee. You too,” Mark said, hanging up the phone.

Bee turned on her heels and marched up the stairs, luckily wrapping up her phone call before the others could catch up to her and before the now-spilling tears from her eyes could give her away.

She didn’t know how to tell Dieter or how he would take it. Her cheeks burned hot with embarrassment. Bee was a different person then. She was desperate, more insecure, in a loveless, shitty relationship. All she wanted was an escape, an out, and Dieter was that both before and after her breakup.

Fiddling with the key for a bit, she held back most of her tears until she threw herself in bed, sweaty arms sticking uncomfortably to the sheets, and thanking whatever higher power that be that Claire had the sense to stay away from their room until dinner time.

***

The last night at “Hotel Hell” was just as hellish as all of the others had been, except with more tears and a little more drama. Claire was really committed to backing off of her, apparently trusting that Bee would spill all the tea when she was ready. It was rare from her button pushing, fun loving, drama aficionado friend, but Claire got the hint and stayed close to her apparent new girlfriend, leaving Bee mostly alone.

She slept, catching up on all of the sleep she had lost throughout the filming process. Sometimes she woke up and rolled over, frustrated by the stifling heat, but mostly she dreamed of Dieter.

The next day wasn’t a great option for telling Dieter about what was going on, but now that they had their phones back, she needed to do it soon. Still, she felt weirdly like a coward.

She held the sheets tight to her neck, kept her phone turned off, and white knuckled it through the night.

Maybe she should’ve gone to see him. She could have knocked on his door at 2 a.m. and he would’ve gladly opened it for her, welcoming her inside. She would spill everything from the movie obsessions to the fanfiction to the hunting for shirtless pictures in the middle of the night.

And Dieter would most likely laugh at her. It couldn’t be that bad, could it? But Bee just couldn’t get out of the bad headspace she was in. What else would be leaked about her during her career? Would her other ex get involved? Would the press go after her family?

Social media is the worst, the press is the worst, it’s all so ugly. Does she even want this?

Despite all of this, Bee made it through the night, and when Claire snuck into their room past 3 a.m., Bee was soundly asleep.

***

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Claire said, shaking Bee awake.

“Mmm,” Bee hummed, stretching and rolling over. It was bright in their shared room, but somewhere along the night it had cooled off enough for Bee to have ended up with extra blankets. Of course it would be cool now that they were done filming and ready to move locations—that was just their luck.

“We’ve gotta get moving. We didn’t pack last night,” Claire said, shaking Bee once more.

Shit. Claire was right. In her sobbing and swearing and the two annoying phone calls she had to make, she had completely forgotten to pack away all of her belongings in preparation for moving.

And after a while of the two women living, eating, sleeping, and getting ready in the room, it was quite the mess. Clothes both clean and dirty were strewn about the room. Old towels piled in the corner because the housekeeping in a historical hotel wasn’t necessarily luxury.

Claire even had an entire collage of NutriGrain bars she had stolen from the snack tables during filming. A wrapper for every flavor, times fifteen at least.

“Ugh,” Bee said, unwrapping herself from her cocoon of blankets. “But I don’t want to.”

“But you have to,” Claire said. “I’ll start us off. I’ll even clean up my NutriGrain bar pile first. I know you hate it.”

“Well, in that case,” Bee said, placing her feet on the floor. “I guess let’s get to it. Where even are our suitcases?”

Claire shrugged. “I think they’re in the closet. I’ll go grab them.”

Bee sat up and hunted around the clothes pile for something warmer to wear. Goosebumps had risen on her thighs and arms.

Claire retrieved their suitcases—one big one and two small ones a piece. Together, they started to sort through what was clean, what was dirty, what was trash, and what was keep. Then, what was Claire’s and what was Bee’s.

“When do we have to be ready by?” Bee asked finally.

Claire gave her a goofy smile. “About an hour to be dressed, packed, and downstairs.”

“Oh my god, why didn’t we do this yesterday?” Bee lamented, shoving several pairs of dirty underwear in the small suitcase she set aside for dirty clothes.

“Because,” Claire said, following her example. “Someone was having a little bit of a sad day. I don’t know who though.”

Bee looked up at her, and Claire’s face was pulled back in a half-smile, like she was holding back laughter but also wanted to gossip. Bee knew her too well.

“Ugh, fine,” Bee said. “I will talk about it but we have to keep cleaning. Deal?”

“Deal,” Claire confirmed, shoving more dirty clothes into her suitcase. “What happened between getting our phones back and now? Your eyes are so puffy, you must have cried for hours.”

Bee poked at the bags under her eyes, but she didn’t even need to to know that Claire was telling the truth. Her eyes felt raw and swollen.

“So, the ex-asshole decided it would be fun to threaten to blackmail me and to tell Dieter that I was a big fan before we got together but like kind of an obsessive fan. But even worse, he wants to go to the press and leak my search history and it’s so awful and so invasive,” Bee explained. “And now I have to tell Dieter all about it so that he doesn’t find out through other people and I don’t want to.”

“Well did you tell Mark? Mark can help with that,” Claire said, pausing in her packing.

“Yes, I did, but you need to keep packing if we’re talking,” Bee scolded. “Mark is taking care of it. He’s going to talk to lawyers and PR and Netflix’s PR which is why I really need to tell Dieter like ASAP.”

“Oh fuck,” Claire said. “Well you can’t tell him today, you guys aren’t going to be alone at all today. We’ll be in public and with the rest of the cast and crew all day. You should go right now and tell him.”

Bee’s heart skipped a beat. Pitter-pattering in her chest. She didn’t want to. Not now, not right now while she was already rushing to get ready for the day ahead. But Claire was right, being honest was important, especially for their relationship.

“Maybe I’ll tell him on the bus,” Bee said. “We’re taking a bus, right?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “A coach I think. Something fancy.”

“Yeah, we’ll probably sit together. I’ll just do it really quick, rip the Bandaid off.” Bee said, trying her best to avoid having to run over now. At the very least, she just wanted to shower really quickly, throw some mascara on, and conceal her puffy under eyes.

Claire shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat, just be sure to tell him then if that’s your plan. Otherwise, you never will.”

***

Bee didn’t tell Dieter on the bus. How could she when she sat next to him and he immediately wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close to cuddle up to him?

It was cold out, gray and overcast England, and the air conditioning on the bus was blasting chilly air, and Bee was cold. She wasn’t about to pass up the free warmth from the hottest guy on the planet by telling him something that he probably did NOT want to hear.

Who in their right mind would do that?

But Bee wasn’t in her right mind—she was nervous, feeling timid and clammy, and despite the full night of sleep she had gotten the night before, she fell asleep on Dieter’s shoulder before too long with the gentle swaying of the bus headed further into the British countryside toward the castle they were to tour as a group.

“Hey Bee,” Dieter whispered, lifting her head up from his shoulder. “We’re almost there, sweet Bee.”

“Who is sweet Bee?” She mumbled, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Um,” Dieter laughed. “It’s like sweet pea but worse, right? Not a good nickname.”

“No, I like all your nicknames. I’ll accept any nickname you want to offer me,” Bee said, and Dieter leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

She melted on the inside despite the chill of the air conditioning, and that melting pooled low in her stomach into thick guilt.

Should she say it now or say it later? Why ruin all of this now when it’s good? She knew it was irrational, but she wanted these few sweet moments before she messed it all up by making her confessions.

“Where did you go last night?” Dieter asked her. “I missed you after dinner.”

Bee balked, but tried her best to hide her discomfort.

“I was just exhausted,” she admitted. “I really needed to catch on sleep from all of the heat and the work, I guess.”

Dieter laughed and squeezed her close once more. “Yeah, apparently. They should cast you in a Sleeping Beauty live action.”

“I think they already made one of those,” Bee said. “Plus I’m not blonde or white or sixteen years old.”

Dieter shrugged. “Directors can have creative visions. Maybe Sleeping Beauty should be a hot Asian adult. I would pay money to see that actually.”

Bee laughed, the nerves about telling Dieter her secrets quickly slipping away from her mind. “I would be asleep for half of the film!”

“I would still watch!” Dieter said defensively.

The bus turned, directing the group on a windy road that led up to a hulking castle, and the rest of the group started to “ooh” and “aah” at the sight. There seemed to be a number of tourists at the castle today, unsurprising as it was the thick of tourist season, but Dieter assured Bee that there would be a private tour for the Bridgerton show’s cast.

“It’s very exclusive, or so I’ve heard,” Dieter said.

“Fun,” Bee said, nudging him in the side with her elbow. “I don’t care about exclusives. I’m used to exploring stuff for free, no tour involved.”

Dieter looked out at the crowd snapping photos of themselves in front of the castle.

“Yeah, but when you get to this point, it’s exhausting to navigate through people,” Dieter said. “They yell out your name when you’re just trying to relax, they want photos of you on days you’re feeling ugly. It can be a lot.”

“That’s true,” Bee said, and the guilt came roaring back like a surge through her body.

She had been part of the fan base that contributed to that issue, the people who were consuming the materials that made Dieter feel like he couldn’t exist in the world without paying extra to be safeguarded.

Every search she made for ‘Dieter Bravo shirtless’ had hurt him—how could he ever forgive her for it?

Dieter and Bee were the first two off the bus, which had gone around the corner away from prying eyes. After quickly checking that there was no one around, Dieter wrapped his heavy arms around Bee’s neck and gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head before pulling away.

“Hey,” Bee said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” Dieter teased.

“Quit being so cute,” she said. “Plus, what if there are people?”

Bee couldn’t help but think about what Dieter’s fans would think. Their whirlwind romance was not going to be well-received by any means. She thought of her Instagram DMs—fat, ugly, irrelevant. How much was true and how much was just Internet nastiness.

“I don’t care if there are people,” Dieter shrugged. “They’ve already seen us. What, have you been getting comments?”

Bee shrugged. “I don’t know. I hate social media, remember?”

“You should delete it then, I’m serious.” Dieter said, the knowing look in his eyes told her that he knew she was getting spammed with hate mail from his fans. “That shit eats you up and spits you out for no reason. They don’t know anything about you. None of them know how truly gorgeous you are, how funny you are, how much fun you are.”

“You’re a liar,” Bee teased, deflecting his compliment only because people from the bus were starting to encircle them in preparation of their “exclusive” English castle tour.

The castle itself was slightly dilapidated, nothing like the gorgeous castle in London that housed the English royalty. Instead, this castle was clearly historical and had gone through some sort of cannon bashing or natural aging which peeled away and chipped at the stone facade.

The gardens here were similar to the gardens at “Hotel Hell”, gorgeous and full of rose bushes. They reminded Bee of the rose petal she had taken from the path to the rooms just the day before. Feeling slightly sentimental, she shoved it between the pages of one of her books and packed it away before boarding the bus.

Maybe someday, if everything worked out between herself and Dieter, she’d be able to look on it fondly. Hopefully, she’d be able to forget about all of the disaster and all of the drama of this filming experience.

Dieter grabbed her hand and directed her toward the rest of the group, where a woman tour guide was preparing to take one half the group and a male tour guide was addressing another half of the group.

They navigated toward the woman, joining Claire and other main members of the cast. The tour guide explained that this castle had serious cultural significance to England and a lot of really interesting information that Bee would have soaked up on any other day. But today she was too nervous, for more than one reason.

First of all, she was standing in England on an overcast day in front of a stunning castle holding Dieter Bravo’s hand.

That sentence was insane. It wasn’t real. And yet, it was. She was here and so was he. In front of their cast and crew, Dieter apparently didn’t care that he would be seen as a romantic couple with her. He stood so close, his hand so warm in her own sweaty, clammy hand.

And the second bit, the looming guilt of not having told Dieter what she desperately needed to. She looked down at her phone. At the very least, they didn’t have cell service. Any call from a PR agent or Netflix wouldn’t be happening today—or worse, social media going crazy with the leaked search history.

If it happened today, he wouldn’t see it.

But she did need to tell him before they were back within service range. She had to. She couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Dieter said, nudging her. “Do you like history?”

“Yeah,” Bee said. “History is cool.”

“It doesn’t sound like you think history is very cool,” Dieter said with a laugh. “You’re in like two countries over right now. You look like you’re someplace in France.”

“Sorry,” Bee said sheepishly. “I’m just a little out of my comfort zone.”

Dieter didn’t say anything, but squeezed her hand slightly. Bee squeezed his hand back, a silent confirmation of her feelings for him. She couldn’t tell what the woman had just said about the castle, but the rest of the group was following her inside, through some sort of impressive back entrance where metal suits of armor stood stereotypically on guard.

“Those are cool,” Bee said as they entered the dark, imposing castle. The floor beneath her feet was intricate mosaic tile, and dozens of paintings lined the walls on either side of the hallway they had stepped into. Historical figures that looked familiar to her, but ones that she couldn’t quite remember the names of.

“Wow,” Dieter said. “Those are incredible.”

They stayed like this throughout the tour, from fancy room to fancy room. You couldn’t touch a thing, but Bee didn’t mind. She had Dieter to touch, and that was the only thing she needed to. They were joined at the hand, and every once in a while, she would reach her other hand up to fix his hair or rub on his shoulder.

It felt good to be like this. She had never been touchy feely or excited to love on a partner in public before, but she was filled with so much pride at having Dieter by her side. Something she had never, ever, felt before with either of her exes. This love was fun, it was fresh, it was new.

The tour continued up a grand staircase, which left even Dieter and Bee winded with how steep they were. Some of the cast decided to stay downstairs, not wanting to break a sweat on their leisurely tour around the castle.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Claire asked as they got up the stairs. She startled Bee, sneaking up on her, and Bee jumped.

Claire shot her a look that asked a question. One that Bee was going to answer ‘No.’

She hadn’t told Dieter on the bus. She hadn’t done it.

She shook her head at Claire to transmit the message and Claire frowned with her disappointment. Claire looked like she wanted to say more—to call her out on breaking her promise, but she stayed quiet.

“Yeah, we’re having a good time,” Dieter said. “And you, Bee?”

“Yeah, a great time,” she said. Not so much anymore. She didn’t like the reminder of her shirked responsibility.

“Sweet! I’ll leave you to it,” Claire said, patting Bee on the shoulder and shooting her a knowing look.

Bee sighed. She really needed to pull the trigger on telling him. She had to do it as soon as she could, but they still weren’t alone, still not in a space where she could do so without ruining their day.

But this news might ruin their day any day. So she supposed it didn’t matter.

Touring the upstairs, the guide led them through the bedrooms of old royals, and Dieter and Bee joked around and played house throughout the upstairs portion of the tour.

“I want a bed like this,” Dieter said, referencing a gigantic princely bed with curtains around it. It was gilded and clearly the finest that someone could attain at the time. Now, it looked slightly aged, but still undoubtedly royal.

“I liked the princess bed better,” Bee teased. “How will we ever choose between them?”

“Why not get both?” The tour guide asked in her shrill British accent. Her imposing question annoyed Bee—another reminder of the fact that they weren’t alone.

“I suppose we might be able to,” Dieter said, turning his back toward her.

Bee found herself wondering if the tour guide had signed an NDA or if she was going to expose every last romantic thing they did. The thought was enough to cause her to drop Dieter’s hand despite her wishes.

With the awkwardness now settling in, the tour guide hurried the group through the rest of the section, before heading back downstairs to meet up with the other half of their group which had stayed behind.

“Alright,” the tour guide said. “I just need to radio over to my counterpart to make sure that the section we’ve set aside for lunch is free from any prying eyes, and then we can release you for a quick lunch. After, we’ll explore the dungeons underneath the castle, and then the gardens.”

“Sounds great,” Dieter said, standing so close to Bee that their shoulders touched. He leaned his head down by her ear and asked, “Why aren’t we holding hands anymore?”

Bee flushed. “I was worried about the guide. Is she under NDA?”

Dieter laughed. “Of course, she is. Besides, I don’t really care. I think you’re pretty and I want to hold a pretty girl’s hand today.”

He laced his fingers through hers once more, and Bee felt her heart thundering away in her chest. Maybe now was the time, maybe on lunch she could get him alone to tell him about everything.

“Can we eat lunch alone?” Bee asked. “I think she was talking about the grassy hill outside for lunch.”

“Yeah, of course,” Dieter said. “Let’s do it.”

When the tour guide came back with instructions for lunch and a time that they should meet back up, Bee was shaking like a leaf. She tried her best to play it cool, picking up a salad from the catering truck that had shown up and grabbing a blue blanket to spread out for Dieter and herself. Dieter grabbed his own sandwich and two Cokes in the glass bottles for the two of them.

“This is gorgeous,” Dieter said, looking out at the view as they climbed to the top of the grassy hill together. They claimed their spot at the top and everyone else got the hint that they wanted to be alone today, picking spots lower down on the grass to set up for their own picnics.

Bee spotted the back of Claire’s head and her stomach twisted with guilt. Dieter and Bee sat cross legged on their blanket, unwrapping their respective sandwiches, when Bee finally choked up the courage.

“I have something to tell you, Dieter,” Bee said, lowering her voice. There was no one around her but even still, she was worried about someone overhearing her confession. She didn’t want to say it—it was so embarrassing, but the furrow that settled between Dieter’s brows and his genuine concern melted her.

She had to tell him, she simply couldn’t put it off any longer. It wasn’t fair to him, and if she let the news come out before she said anything it could ruin their relationship.

“You need to tell me something?” Dieter said. He was struggling to keep his face relaxed—there was that sense of worry that was written into his features—but also an air of relaxation. Maybe he thought she was going to confess she was in love with him or maybe he thought she was going to say she didn’t love him at all.

Bee was hesitating, and she knew it was hurting him with every moment that she couldn’t just spit the words out and tell him, but they were caught up in her chest high, taking her breath away.

“Just say it, Bee. You’re making me kind of nervous,” Dieter said. He set his sandwich down and reached out to rub her knee. “Everything is going to be okay. Nothing is ever that serious.”

Bee sucked a deep breath in and exhaled.

“Okay, so you know how I broke up with my boyfriend around the time I got this role,” Bee started.

Worry flickered in Dieter’s dark eyes, and Bee placed her hand over Dieter’s to keep it on her knee. He was about to pull away, afraid that she was saying she wanted to get back with her ex.

“No, it’s not like that. I hate him, Dieter.”

“Oh,” he said. “Okay, keep going. Yes, I know you broke up with him around that time.”

Bee nodded. “And he was insanely jealous. He sent me some threatening texts before but I just ignored them. Claire told me to block him but I didn’t. I don’t know what would’ve been better, but he texted me while we were on the no phone time. He texted me a lot.”

Bee rubbed her thumb against the back of Dieter’s hand, hoping that showing him that she still cared about him would help to soften the blow.

“What did he say?” Dieter asked her. His eyes were soft, still shrouded in worry, but he looked understanding and more worried about her than himself.

“He said he was going to leak some things I had been searching on our home WiFi back a long time ago. Before we ever met, before I ever knew you in person,” Bee said. “And so I called him, and I told him I would sue his ass. And he said, that he was going to do it anyway.”

Dieter was quiet for a while, waiting for Bee to continue. He hadn’t passed judgment yet, but Bee could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I’m so sorry, Bee. That is so horrible of him. He’s an asshole. Did you contact your agent? I can get you someone for PR if you need them,” he said slowly. He wasn’t looking at her though, almost too afraid to ask the question that came out of his mouth next. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not like horrible bad. It’s nothing illegal or anything. And I did get in touch with Mark, and he’s getting lawyers and PR and everything. It’s taken care of but I had to tell you because it’s about you,” Bee confessed. Her face felt hot despite the windy, chilly English day, a blush quickly forming.

This was so embarrassing, so humiliating.

“About me? From before we met?” Dieter laughed slightly. “Were you in the ‘I hate Dieter Bravo’ camp before we met? It’s okay if you were, I know I’m much handsomer in person and I’m funnier, too, so I understand.”

Bee made a face. “No, the opposite.”

“Oh,” Dieter said, his smile slipping away. “Okay.”

“I was a super fan. And for a little bit there, before we ever met, I was kind of obsessive,” Bee admitted. “I read every fanfiction imaginable, I was on every forum, followed every fan account, even those awful flight trackers.”

She removed her hand from on top of his, allowing him to take his hand away from her knee if he wanted to, but he didn’t. To her surprise, he kept his hand settled on her knee, and he sat in silence as he processed the information.

Bee let him think, sitting together in silence. A gust of wind blew and ruffled his dark hair and as Bee thought that he was beautiful, she cried. Tears spilled from her eyes against her wishes, and she let them run, not wanting him to notice.

But then she sniffled, and Dieter broke from his train of thought to wipe her tears away.

“No crying,” he said. “There’s no need to cry over this. I’m flattered, it’s just a little awkward. I think I’d feel better if I knew like more specifics.”

“It was nothing super super bad,” Bee said quickly, but the tears kept spilling. “I think I just am more embarrassed about the frequency. I used to stay up all night, because I was so unhappy with my relationship. All I wanted was a different one. And it’s so stupid, and I’m so angry with myself because this is that dream relationship, and I’ve been so scared since yesterday that my unhappy self would ruin things for my happy self.”

Dieter wrapped his arm around Bee’s shoulder, pulling her closer. “No, it won’t. It would never. I understand what that feeling is like, and I know what you’re talking about.”

“I just don’t want the whole world to see Dieter Bravo’s new girlfriend had been Googling ‘Dieter Bravo shirtless’ every night for a week,” Bee sniffed. “When I didn’t meet you on purpose. I met you on some stupid happy accident.”

Dieter laughed. “Was it really every night for a week?”

“Yes!” Bee laughed, the humiliation making her giddy. “It was constant, it was all the time. I read every fanfiction I could get my hands on, and now, my life is that fanfiction. I’m happy now. I’m so happy with you that I could write a whole 90,000 page book on how fun it’s been to get to know you.”

“I could too,” Dieter said. “I’m really happy to get to know you. I never really wanted to date a fan, but I could tell that you knew who I was when we filmed for Disney together. And it never bothered me. Fuck, I mean, if you’re with me because you thought I was hot then, I guess it’s a good sign that you want me still now. Does the fanfiction version of Dieter match up with the real version?”

Dieter leaned his head down toward Bee as he asked her that, his lips just out of reach of her, but she pushed herself up from the blue blanket to kiss him on the lips.

“The real Dieter is so, so much better than the fanfiction version,” she promised.

“Are you sure?” He asked, planting another kiss on her lips.

They kissed for what felt like a minute, the fantasy coming to life right before her. Here she was, kissing the man of her dreams, despite it all. And all of that fear, all of that doubt, simply fizzled away as he kissed her. It felt like champagne bubble pops and sitting in front of the fire on an ice cold day.

And Bee could’ve sworn she learned the meaning of love that day.

“I’m sure,” she said when he pulled away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

***

Bee thought about that kiss at the castle often, using their moment alone to propel her through the coming weeks of filming. Once again, she and Dieter were mostly separated apart from their time in front of the cameras. There, Bee didn’t kiss Dieter as her character, and she was pretty sure that he wasn’t kissing her back as his either. Still, her feelings for him grew despite their use of accents and scripts.

It wasn’t the usual way of falling in love, through the pages of a Regency romance novel turned Netflix series, but it was the most in love that Bee had ever felt. Rivaling her past years’ long relationships even. For Bee, her time at Disney seemed so far away, so out of this world, that her reality started to feel…well, real. She was a star, not just someone who was masquerading as one.

When she realized this, the staff on set started treating her accordingly. She managed her expectations, though she could quickly see how people changed with fame, with rising expectations of special treatment. Bee wouldn’t be that type of a celebrity. She promised herself as much—she would maintain normal relationships and made the mental note to schedule time with Staci as soon as she returned stateside.

Her friendship with Claire was still a pillar of her experience with fame, but Claire had been interested in her own romantic pursuits, leaving in the dark about a lot of what was going on with her. Bee tried to poke and prod when they were in between scenes, but Claire was tightlipped on set.

Summer continued on, and their living quarters were (thankfully) air-conditioned to a brisk chill. Bee didn’t spend a lot of time in her room apart from sleeping, rushing from set to set, scene to scene, rehearsal to rehearsal, and to hair and makeup.

The last day of filming was a mark in Bee’s mental calendar that she couldn’t be more excited for. It was just two days away, and between scenes, Dieter and Bee talked about what they would do after filming. Dieter mentioned a quick detour before returning home for the both of them in passing, he only needed to ask their director for permission to adjust their flights.

She couldn’t be more excited. Since Dieter was planning something, it was bound to be romantic, and she couldn’t wait to have him all to herself.

“What are you smiling about?” her makeup artist, Marie, asked. “I need your lips at rest to put lipstick on you, silly.”

“Sorry,” Bee said sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking about anything important.”

“It looked to me like you were thinking about a man,” Maria said. “Or a woman, I don’t judge.”

Bee looked at herself in the mirror, lips half-painted with nude pink lipstick. Her cheeks were burning red, and not from the blush that Maria had already applied to them.

“I wasn’t thinking about a man,” Bee said quickly. “I mean, well, I wasn’t thinking about a woman, either. I was just thinking.”

“Mmhm, sure,” Maria said, not buying it one bit. “I do some thinking all the time.”

She laughed, and Bee had no choice but to laugh with her. It was clear to everyone on set that Bee and Dieter were together, especially after everyone had seen the tabloids when they got their phones back on their brief filming break.

“He’s so dreamy, isn’t he?” Maria asked, pressing forward with the conversation, even though Bee was clearly not interested in continuing it.

“He is,” Bee said. She rested her lips and allowed Maria to complete her lipstick. She hoped that if she just complied with the process, that she would let her off the hook a bit.

With the newfound respect Bee had gathered on set, she didn’t like talking about Dieter with people. It felt wrong, almost like they were treating her better just to get on his good side. Bee wanted more than that, she wanted a career that stood on its own two feet—not one that was dependent on a man.

What would happen if they broke up? Or if Dieter’s reputation was shot by a horrific scandal?

Then Bee would be left high and dry, kicked out of Hollywood forever?

No, she wouldn’t allow that. She secured this role, she was knocking it out of the park, too, as far as the director and producers had been telling her. There was no way she would ever put her future in the hands of another man, not after her other relationships. Never again.

Maria applied the lipstick in silence, finally getting the hint that Bee didn’t want to talk about Dieter today. She finished off the look with mascara and brows and sent Bee on her way to the hair station.

Claire entered the hair and makeup trailer in a daze, a whirlwind of “I’m late” and “I’m so sorry.” Bee tried to mind her business from her own chair, where Renee was crafting a gorgeous period updo of her dark hair. But Claire had clearly come from a tryst with the costar she had started seeing, and it was hard for Bee not to give her a sideways look that told Claire she was onto her.

Claire swatted her hand in a gesture that told her, “Don’t mention it,” like it was normal for her to be late after hooking up. Maria, of course, gave her shit for her puffy lips and asked her straight up who she had been locking lips with.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Claire said, throwing one leg over the other and acting coy. “But maybe you could figure it out.”

“I like my odds,” Maria said. “There are plenty of men around here, but not many that would suit your high standards, Claire.”

And that’s where she was wrong, and Claire knew as much too. She shot Bee a wink from her seat—because Claire wasn’t hooking up with a man at all.

Bee was dying inside without the opportunity to gossip with Claire about it. She wanted to know how serious they were, if she considered herself off the market, or if this was just a quick filming fling. Either way, it made Bee a little nervous about her living situation. She would have the money to buy her own place with the contract that Dieter secured for her from Netflix, but she was looking forward to returning to life as it was with Claire.

The condo had become her home in the short time she lived in it, and she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet. Not to mention that she had never lived on her own before. She had always lived with either her mom or a boyfriend.

It was a goal of hers to live alone before moving in with Dieter, though. If they ever got that far, of course. She was going to play it low and slow with him, not rushing through life from one safety net to another.

“How’d you sleep?” Claire asked her, changing the subject away from herself.

“Good. Better than that awful hotel. I love having my room be as cold as possible and then piling myself in the covers,” Bee said with a shrug.

“Hey, don’t move too much,” Renee cautioned. “I almost stabbed you in the head with a bobby pin.”

“Oops,” Bee said.

“Good,” Claire said, about her sleeping well, not about the almost-stabbing. “Has anyone been visiting you lately?”

“No,” Bee said with a touch of bitterness in her voice, knowing she was talking about Dieter. Of course, she was, after she had just gotten Maria to finally drop it.

“Oh,” Claire’s eyebrows raised.

She acted like she expected them to be meeting up after dark every night, but with how busy they were, there was no way that she or Dieter wanted to meet up for late-night activities after work. It simply wasn’t how they wanted to start their relationship—something they agreed upon that day in the grass outside of the castle, hand in hand.

They would start, for real this time, after filming ended in two days.

Hair done, Claire set off to start her second to last day of filming. Her second to last day before she and Dieter had the whole world to just the two of them. Ready to start the beautiful relationship that they had begun. For real this time, though. No cameras, no lurking staff ready to leak their every move to the papers. An NDA never stopped anyone; both of them knew as much.

Her first scene of the day was with Dieter himself. A tense meal between the two of them and their on-screen parents. Neither of their sets of parents approved of their pairing, but for Dieter’s character, he didn’t need their approval. But for Bee’s character, the situation was more complicated. She couldn’t marry him without their approval, and this scene was tense and heated.

It was a total “But Daddy, I love him!” a la Disney’s The Little Mermaid, and Bee had spent plenty of time working on just how she would approach this scene. She imagined being told that Dieter and her wouldn’t work out, that he was bad for her, even though her heart longed for him so badly.

The thought alone brought tears to her eyes, and so she could only imagine how her character would feel. She was a spinster, and the first man who had really seen her for her, enough to open up to her and earn her trust, was being denied by the people who had the potential to call off the whole thing altogether.

Her heart broke for her, even though she knew it was only a character. She wasn’t real. In fact, she was really just Bee.

She sat across the table from Dieter, a bowl full of soup placed before her by production.

“What kind is this?” Bee asked.

“It’s creamy tomato,” the production assistant said.

“Can I have the chicken and rice instead, please?” she asked politely. She didn’t like tomato soup and had requested an alternate meal before today. It seemed like someone hadn’t made the note, though.

“We don’t have another chicken and rice soup,” the production assistant said. “And we have to roll in five if we’re going to stay on schedule.”

His tone wasn’t unkind, but it was clipped. It was true they were on a schedule, but they should have considered as much before bringing Bee the wrong meal. If the schedule was correct, she would have to be slowly eating this tomato soup over the course of two hours, small sip by small sip. The thought of it turned her stomach.

“We can just trade,” Dieter said. “I don’t mind the tomato soup.”

Bee grinned, and Dieter smiled back at her. There was some sort of silent ‘I love you’ in the gesture. That he came to her rescue, deflected the attention away from her, and that he sacrificed the meal he had chosen for her comfort.

She wanted to kiss him, but unfortunately, there was no kiss in this scene. Only tears and accusations, screaming and fighting with her parents.

“Ready?” Sam, their director, asked. “I love this scene. More than any of the others, I’ve been so excited about this scene. I know you guys are all going to kill it.”

Bee and Dieter both nodded and gave their respective thumbs-ups. Their on-screen parents came to sit by them. Bee was flanked by her on-screen mother and father, one on either side.

“Alright, we’re going to start from Bee’s line, ‘I’m so happy for us to all finally get together,’” Sam said, sitting in her director’s chair.

Bee nodded and took a deep breath. She wasn’t herself anymore. She was fully her character, but the man across from her was still some version of Dieter in her brain—but only so that she could prepare herself emotionally for what was to come.

“And, quiet on the set!” Sam shouted. “Action!”

“I’m so happy for us to all finally get together,” Bee said, as her character, Celine.

Dieter’s character, Duncan, smiled at her and looked at his mother.

Duncan’s father spoke first, though. “Likewise,” he said. “We’re so happy to hear that our son has found a woman to his liking after all this time.”

“I wish that I could say the same,” Bee’s on-screen father said. “We’re not so sure of this match for our Celine.”

Bee made a face and picked up her spoon, concerning herself more with her soup than with her father’s harsh words. She could feel Dieter’s gaze on her, his character looking for her to defend him. But in this society, she couldn’t speak over her father. She was powerless in this scene—until she wasn’t.

She was gearing up, drawing in her emotions, ready to explode and let everyone know how she really felt. Her character was full of deeply rooted feminine rage, and if Bee was honest with herself, so was she. She’d lived her life under the thumb of other people, making choices that she thought would please them.

Finally, she was taking charge of her life, making choices that would benefit her. And so was Celine, which made it easy to perform as her. She wasn’t method acting, not quite, but it was close enough.

“Well, what’s not to like?” Duncan’s mother asked. “Our son comes from a respectable family, we have more money to our name than your family does, no disrespect. Our name is well-regarded in our community. Our son is polite, kind, generous.”

“Says the mother,” Celine’s father said. “Of course, you would see him that way, but he has a reputation with women in this town that is unbecoming of our daughter. We are unsure of how that reputation would reflect on us, given that we are, as you said, ‘poorer than you.’”

Dieter spoke up in defense of his on-screen mother. His voice was so different as Duncan, but his passion was all the same, fire and excitement. “That’s not what she said. Don’t twist her words.”

“It’s all the same, boy,” Celine’s father said. “We don’t have your resources. We’re trying to advance our position, and I won’t let my daughter ruin it. She’s supposed to be serving her role to help provide for this family.”

Bee kept her gaze down, twirling her spoon through the chunks of chicken and pieces of rice. She wouldn’t engage with them, wouldn’t show her parents that they were getting the better of her, that the rage that was pooling inside of her was in danger of spilling out.

“You are supposed to provide for your family, aren’t you?” Duncan said an accusatory note in his voice.

“Cut!” Sam shouted. “Dieter, try that one more time. This is the woman of your dreams sitting before you, and if you don’t man up and do something, she is going to slip right through your fingertips. You want her, don’t you?”

Dieter looked at her, and it was in a way that was more Dieter looking at Bee than Duncan looking at Celine. She blushed under the intensity of his gaze.

“More than anything,” Dieter said. “I want her more than anything.”

It took everything within Bee not to let out the girlish squeal that rose in her chest.

“Okay,” Sam said. “Then say it like you mean it. Take a moment and think about it, and then let me know when you’re ready.”

Dieter looked lost in thought for a moment, then he gave Sam a thumbs up.

“Action!” Sam shouted, and the cameras started rolling once again.

“You are supposed to provide for your family, aren’t you?” Dieter said as Duncan once more. This time, there was a fire in his eyes, passion in his voice that wasn’t there before. His voice was so commanding, so impressive, that Bee accidentally looked up from her soup. She wasn’t supposed to yet, but Sam didn’t stop the camera.

Bee averted her gaze once more, looking down into that bowl of soup as the argument continued to escalate and take shape around her.

“This right here is why we don’t approve,” her on-screen father said. His face darkened, turning a deep shade of red with anger that made him shake. Of course, it was just acting, but Bee could feel him vibrating with rage to her red, and it made her heart race even though she knew it was fake. “Do you see this anger? This impulsivity? It’s not a fit for our daughter.”

“Your daughter,” Dieter’s on-screen mother said, her voice terse. “She had no prospects before she met our son. If you think that marrying will help provide for your family, why has she not been married off for money yet?”

Bee’s on-screen mother looked to her with sadness in her eyes. There was an unspoken kindness in them that they wanted her to choose her own partner for love, if possible. But now that her character Celine had chosen one, they were putting a stop to it.

“Why?” she asked her mother quietly. “Why not him?”

“Listen to your father, child,” her mother said.

“I’m not a child,” Bee said as Celine. “I’m nearing 30.”

“See?” Bee’s on-screen father said. “She never spoke out of turn this way before. Our daughter was never so emboldened, so crass as to talk this way. And for what it’s worth, we get to choose her match. Not her, not you, us, as her parents.”

“You shouldn’t get to choose,” Bee said under her breath. She paused as the camera zoomed in on her face, and she made her hand shake with the spoon in her grasp for dramatic effect.

“I will send you away, Celine,” her father said. “If you do not stop speaking out of turn.”

Bee turned to face him. “No, you won’t. I love Duncan, father. I won’t ever stop loving him. We were made for each other, born into this world to be together. You can’t stop us from being together. Not even if you disown me, he will still want me.”

Duncan’s parents exchanged a look like they weren’t quite sure about that detail, but Bee pressed on with her monologue, pushing her soup aside so hard that the spoon clattered out of it onto the table.

“I’m so tired of being ordered around by you two, it’s time that I lived my own life. I don’t care about custom, I don’t care what you have to say. This is my life, my choice, and I choose him!”

Bee’s voice climbed to a yell throughout her speech, and by the end of it, she was standing, panting out the words. Dieter looked at her with wide brown eyes, and Bee knew he was still in character, but he looked impressed with her performance, or at least that’s what she chose to think.

“Celine,” her mother said, scandalized.

“That’s my name,” she snapped. “You gave it to me, and you gave me life and raised me, but if you choose not to support me any further, then I have no choice but to stop calling you my family. You won’t be the ones to exile me. I will exile myself. I will not live a life without love. I refuse to.”

“Celine,” her mother repeated, this time broken-hearted.

Bee’s eyes filled with tears that spilled over the edges of her lids.

“Do you hear her?” Duncan’s mother asked. “You would harm your own child this way? Make her feel this helpless?”

“Cut!” Sam called out. She was out of her seat, so drawn in by Bee’s scene that she needed a closer look. “That was beautiful, Bee. I can’t believe we got that in a single take. I think that’ll be the final, but can I have you run through it one more time from the top?”

Bee smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Of course.”

“She’s a fucking natural,” Sam said, settling back into the director’s chair. “How the hell did we find her?”

Bee went through the scene again, confident in her abilities. With just two days left of filming, she felt like she had successfully mastered her craft. Somehow, somewhere along the way, everything just clicked for her.

***

The next day of filming went much like the last, with Bee successfully conquering the more dramatic scenes of the show alongside Dieter. The “big scene” of the day today was a kissing scene, and then their wedding scene later in the day. Back in the early days of their romance, when she had read the script, still starry-eyed for Dieter, these were the scenes she looked forward to the most.

It was then that she thought kissing and marrying Dieter was outside of the realm of possibility. And while they hadn’t kissed as Bee and Dieter in several days, there was plenty of kissing for them both up ahead. They only had one more day of filming to go, and then they would be off on the adventure Dieter had planned.

"It was approved", Dieter had said at dinner the night before. And he had his assistant change both of their tickets to reflect their “pitstop” on the way home.

“Where are we going?” she had asked.

“Not telling,” he said, a cheeky smile on his face. And then he just continued on eating his meal as if he hadn’t planned her a secret romantic getaway—something no one had even gotten close to doing before in her entire life.

The kiss scene went by quickly, much to Bee’s disappointment. She loved kissing Dieter, in costume and out of costume. The only complication with kissing him as her character was the corset that only served to further take her breath away.

She gasped as she kissed him, trying desperately to get enough air into her lungs.

“Cut! That’s good, Bee, just like that!” Sam yelled in approval. “One more time, action!”

Bee couldn’t complain. She would run kissing scenes with Dieter all day if it meant locking lips with the man she was falling in love with. She may have even messed up a line or two just to run it again, but she wouldn’t admit to it if anyone asked her about it.

The wedding scene was far more complicated. The hair and makeup were elaborate, sucking crucial hours of the day from her. She sat as a whole team of hair and makeup artists attacked her with brushes on her face and hair, wrangling her into the perfect bride.

When they were done with her, Bee struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to ruin her makeup. She didn’t look like the bride she imagined herself to be, the dress was clearly a period costume, but it was white and accentuated her figure nicely. She was gorgeous, and her face looked bright, with life and happiness in it that she’d never seen on herself before.

Her team escorted her to the “venue,” where Dieter waited for her looking better than she had ever seen him look before. They had cut his hair a little shorter to show the passage of time in the show, and the haircut took a couple of years off, bringing a youthful glow to him that made her heart flutter.

She felt like she’d been plucked out of a romance novel when she saw him like this—it was so disorienting her head was spinning, and when she walked up to him to greet him, he talked to her as himself, not his character.

That only made the problem worse. During their entire wedding scene, she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. They ran it over and over again, and she couldn’t help but feel like it was just the two of them, Dieter and Bee, who were making that giant leap of commitment.

But it wasn’t. She knew that, even though the way he looked at her when he said “I do” felt so intimate, almost spoken directly to her soul.

“I love you,” she whispered after Sam yelled, “Cut!” and told everyone that they were done for the day.

It was after the cameras were done, their hands were still joined from the scene and in her own voice. Dieter looked at her like she’d just told him her deepest, darkest secret.

“I love you too,” he said quietly.

“Dieter, come look at this scene,” Sam called out, and he broke away from her, casting her one last disappointed glance before he joined Sam at her monitor.

***

Sam called the last day of shooting “Mistakes Day,” and Bee couldn’t help but take it personally. She stayed up almost all night thinking about her own mistake of prematurely telling Dieter that she loved him. She even confided in Claire about it, who had laughed at her, but then spilled her own guts about her cast member relationship that had unfortunately run cold.

Claire assured her that Dieter wouldn’t have lied to her if he didn’t love her back, but Bee wasn’t so sure. He was kind and gentle, and she felt like she had been so mangled by life so far.

Most days, she woke up wondering how this was her life, how he had chosen her over all of the other women in the world.

She felt stupidly, ironically, like her character, Celine. But Celine had gotten her man in the end, so what was stopping Bee from getting hers?

It was the same man, after all, Netflix romance show or no Netflix romance show.

Mistakes Day ran by quickly, reshoot after reshoot of little fixes, most of which Bee wasn’t in. Claire said that was a testament to her good work on this show that she had really made an impression on the director and the producers, but Bee’s mind was elsewhere. She had barely seen Dieter all day and couldn’t get those three little words out of her head.

***

The next day, Bee sat next to Claire on the bus back to London, but it was Dieter who intercepted her as soon as she stepped off.

“We aren’t going with them, remember? We’ve got our own agenda,” he said. He already had both of their luggage pulled aside from underneath the coach, and an assistant pulled up in a small cart prepped and ready to take all of their bags with them.

Bee breathed a sigh of relief. It felt like she was breathing air for the first time in two days like she’d been holding her breath from the moment she accidentally said the “L” word.

They were still going on their private adventure, and he didn’t hate her after all.

The cart took off, away from the main London terminal and away to a separate one that Dieter explained was only for celebrities and the extremely wealthy. They were deposited with their many bags, but a friendly employee took them on a trolley and escorted them to the shortest airport security line Bee had ever seen in her life.

“Where do you think we’re going?” Dieter asked her as they walked through the doors of a private terminal.

“Don’t tease me,” she said. “You know I don’t know. You’ve insisted on this being a secret.”

“But what if I want you to guess,” Dieter said, stepping through the metal detector. There was no place to take your shoes off here, just a straight walk through a simple detector.

“Are you going to tell me if I guess correctly?” Bee asked.

Dieter thought about the possibility for a moment and then said, “Maybe.”

“Fine,” Bee said, stepping through the metal detector too. Dieter laced his fingers through hers as soon as she came out the other side and started to guide her toward their gate.

“I want to hear them,” Dieter teased.

“Okay,” Bee said. “Cities or countries?”

“Ooh, cities,” he said.

Bee thought for a moment. She was so tired from the bus ride and nervous for alone time with Dieter that she wasn’t sure if she could even think of all of the many possibilities.

“Paris, Lisbon, Berlin, Barcelona? Milan?” she guessed, but Dieter didn’t show a single sign that she had guessed correctly or incorrectly. He simply smiled at her and squeezed her hand.

“I decided I’m not going to tell,” he said.

“Well, then I think I guessed one right if you aren’t going to tell me any more,” Bee said.

She wondered which of the five it was. She kind of hoped it was Paris, but she wasn’t set on it.

“No, I mean, I decided before you even guessed,” he said with a laugh.

Bee’s mouth dropped open. “That’s…not fair.”

“I never said it was going to be fair. I just said it was a surprise,” he said. “And I love you, you know that.”

Bee held in a gasp. He said it again. And there it was, the confirmation that Claire was right, that Dieter would never say it just to please her. He said it because he meant it.

“I love you too,” Bee said to him, and she wished she could take a picture of the look on his face when she said it back to him.

When they arrived at their gate, the plane was already ready for them to board, which Bee had never experienced before. The staff was nice and ready to cater to their every whim, but Bee already had everything she wanted. She had a boyfriend who loved her enough to treat her how she always deserved to be treated. While she didn’t need private jet secret trips, she needed the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, open and honest.

“Where are we going?” Bee asked once they took their seats. She buckled her seatbelt immediately, still not completely over her mild fear of flying.

Dieter grinned at her. “Still a secret.”

“You keep saying that,” Bee said. “But I’m not going to accept that it’s a secret as an answer, Dieter.”

Dieter laughed and buckled his own seatbelt. He reached over and fixed a stray strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear.

“You keep saying that, too,” Dieter said. “And I keep telling you, it’s a secret. I’ve gotten you this far without telling you. I’m not going to break down and spill now. You’ve got to be patient.”

“Hmph,” Bee said, accepting her fate. She only hoped that she wasn’t being kidnapped, though, really, she knew that Dieter would never harm her. She wondered if the plane would go to Paris or Milan. If she were Dieter Bravo, where would she take her?

The truth was, Bee wasn’t well-traveled enough to even know. She knew of the romantic cities, like Paris, but she also heard from somewhere that Paris was really disgusting and full of pickpockets and thieves. That aspect didn’t quite sound so romantic on second thought.

So, frustrated with the lack of answers but happy to spend alone time with Dieter, she nuzzled up against his shoulder and quickly fell asleep, allowing him to take her across the ocean to whatever destination he had in mind.

***

“Italy, I knew it!” Bee said when the private plane landed at the airport in Rome. The private terminal was secluded, but the sign clearly said ‘ROME,’ plain as day in bold lettering.

Dieter raised an eyebrow. “Did you really? Because you guessed like six other countries before Italy.”

Bee shrugged. “Italy was on the list, though. Doesn’t that count?”

“I don’t think so. Besides, you said ‘Milan,’ which is not where we are,” Dieter pointed out. “We’re in Rome. But it doesn’t matter. You don’t know if we’re even staying here.”

“We aren’t?” Bee asked.

Dieter put a playful hand over his mouth. “Oops. Did I give something away?”

He sort of had, but Bee had no idea what he was planning, so when the private car they got into took them to a port with elaborate cruise ships and private yachts, Bee was still surprised, to say the least.

“What are we doing here?” Bee asked him.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked. “Or can it still be a surprise?”

Bee looked at the boats with wide eyes. She’d never been on a cruise before, let alone a private yacht, and as of right now, both options were in play. But she trusted Dieter and knew he wouldn’t do anything that was going to put her in harm’s way.

“No, it can still be a surprise,” she conceded. He kissed her quickly and chaste.

“Perfect,” he said. “I’m going to make sure our bags are taken care of. Also, can I have your passport?”

“Sure,” she said, handing it over. “Don’t steal my identity.”

“I’ll try not to,” he said, stepping out of the car.

Bee waited, twiddling her fingers as Dieter made the arrangements that he needed to. He came back for her about ten minutes later and lead her toward one of the stark white yachts along the port.

“This one is ours,” Dieter said, gesturing to the yacht as he led her toward the entrance.

“Ours?” she asked.

“Ours,” he confirmed. “If you want to, we’re going to spend a week sailing around the Mediterranean.”

“If I want to?” Bee asked him. It was the most ridiculous question she’d ever been asked. Of course, she wanted to. He was offering her a dream that she had always had.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said. “I just can’t believe you arranged all of this.”

He kissed her. “I would do all of this and more for you a thousand times over.”

The words didn’t even sound real. Again, Bee got that feeling that she was stuck in someone else’s life or in the pages of a book somewhere, waiting for someone to pinch her awake.

The yacht was stunning, with luxury fixings on every inch of it. Bee hadn’t even been in hotel rooms this nice, let alone on a yacht just for the two of them. Workers were offloading their bags onto the ship, as well as a couple of packages that Bee could see Dieter’s name on.

“Stuff for the trip,” he said simply. “You needed bathing suits and stuff, so I had the costume crew pick some things out for you. I hope you like it.”

Bee didn’t know how to respond. She knew she probably looked like a deer in headlights, but Dieter grabbed her waist and pulled her close, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

“This is all for you because you deserve it,” he said. “But please let me know if any of it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Thank you, Dieter,” she said. “I don’t know what to say.”

“‘Thank you’ is okay,” he said. “But I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy,” Bee promised.

“Good,” Dieter said, kissing her. “Let me show you the bedroom.”

Bee followed him to the private ensuite—private? It was all private—and to the massive bedroom that rivaled the size of Claire’s condo. There was a king bed in the center of the room, affixed with luxury bedding. To the left a bathroom that connected and had minimal privacy from the bedroom. The toilet was in a separate room, but a bathtub and shower were in full view of the ocean and rich sunlight.

***

The two of them slept in far past sunrise and well into the day, but Bee didn’t care. She pulled the silk sheets up around her body, making sure that she was covered. She hadn’t bothered to find her pajamas after the night before.

Dieter had worshipped her, fulfilling wants and needs she hadn’t even known she had. He didn’t conquer her, not like other men had sought out to do. Instead, he cherished her. He made love to her in the truest sense of the words.

“Good morning,” Dieter hummed, leaning over to kiss her. 

“Good morning,” she said.

“Sleep well?” he asked her.

Bee smiled. “Better than I’ve ever slept before.”

“Perfect,” Dieter said. He rolled over and unplugged his phone from the charger, but she wasn’t quite ready to face reality yet. Instead, she looked out of the large windows on the right side of the bedroom, out the balcony where the sun streamed golden into the room, reflecting off of pristine blue water. 

“I have to go,” he said suddenly. He ripped the bedsheets from his body, phone in hand, and haphazardly clothed himself.

“What?” Bee almost yelled. “What’s wrong?”

“I just have to go,” he said. He was still looking at his phone, furiously typing now, before rushing out onto the balcony and closing the door behind him.

That fairytale feeling she had for the past couple of weeks was gone in an instant, vanished. She was no longer someone from a romance novel or somewhere in a dream, she was in her life, Bee’s life—where things always went horribly, terribly wrong.

The feeling suffocated her, and she felt strapped to the bed, unable to follow him even though she desperately wanted to know what was the matter. He would have told her if he wanted her to know, which meant that whatever it was, this was bad.

She dressed slowly and methodically, pulling on her discarded pajamas and making sure that she calmed herself before she followed him out onto the balcony. When she opened the door, though, he refused to look up at her, still doing whatever damage control apparently needed to be done.

“What’s the matter?” Bee asked, hurt and confusion settled into the lines of her face. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

Dieter sighed and fussed with his hair. His brown eyes avoided hers, and she felt something she had only felt before in her other relationships. She felt locked out, abandoned, left alone in the dark by his refusal to share his thoughts.

“I don’t like this, Dieter,” Bee said. “I can’t have you do this to me. It hurts more than you can even understand. You can’t leave me out of your emotions. You can’t leave me like that without an explanation.”

At those words, Dieter returned to her, his gaze finding hers once more. There was hurt in his eyes, too, and Bee realized that she must have done something to make him feel this way. She ran through their interactions in the past couple of days, and she couldn’t find anything.

What could he have found out that he didn’t already know about?

She’d told him everything, bared her soul to him from between the sheets. She told him about her mom, her experience growing up with that disconnect from her culture, her tendency to seek approval from men, and her rigid opposition to doing so in the future.

Everything about her exes, her work life, her close friends and lack thereof—he even knew about the fanfiction, the obsession that she had with him, and he hadn’t seemed to care.

So what could it be?

“It got out, Bee,” Dieter said. “Everyone knows about your identity as a ‘super fan.’ Your ex, he went to the press, and he leaked everything—everything. And now my family feels like you’re after my money. The whole universe thinks so too.”

The weight of his words felt like a swift punch to the gut. Of course. Just when she thought everything was okay, it would all come crashing down again. She wasn’t safe, she wasn’t a star. Her career and her relationship were dead in the water before they even had the chance to begin. That was just her luck.

“I thought you said you didn’t care,” she said, her voice eeking out in just a whisper. “I thought it was all going to be okay. You told me you didn’t care. And I have my own money now; why would I need yours?”

Dieter looked at her, thinking over his words carefully. “I didn’t care, but when my family does, when my friends do. I don’t know, I know you have your own money. I just wish this never even happened.”

The words were so familiar, but Dieter had never said them to her before as himself. He had said them as his character when he was Duncan, and she was Celine. But those were just characters, not real people.

This couldn’t be happening to her. This only happened to Celine. Not to Bee.

Would he have to scream at his parents that he was allowed to make his own choice? She didn’t even know them.

“You wish we never happened?” Bee asked, choosing the worst of his words. It was a bad habit of hers, one brought on by a myriad of trauma, and like it always did, it escalated their disagreement.

“Don’t do that, Bee. Don’t twist my words. Of course, I don’t regret my time with you. I never would,” Dieter said. His eyes were glassy, wet but not quite ready to cry.

“So it’s over, then? Our time?” Bee asked. “You’re done with me just like that?”

She was angry, fury rising in her chest and turning her cheeks hot. He promised her they would be okay, but as soon as someone else had something to say about them, he was ready to disengage.

Dieter’s eyebrows pulled together. “I never said that. I never said I was done with you, Bee. Am I not allowed to have feelings about this, though? Because if so, we’re going to have issues. How would you feel in my position?”

Bee didn’t answer him. He was right, she was jumping to conclusions, and it was because she had never had a relationship before where communicating healthily was the norm. She was delving back into old habits, finding comfort in the toxic behavior that she had allowed in the past.

She took a deep breath in through her nose to calm her temper and looked out at the water. She would feel horrible if she were in his position. If Claire were telling her to run for the hills, she would consider accepting her advice. But even her character dealt with this, and she stood up to them. Why couldn’t Dieter do the same?

Then again, Celine was just a stupid character in a stupid Netflix show. They were Bee and Dieter, not Celine and Duncan. She had to remind herself of that, she couldn’t forget it.

“I would feel scared,” she admitted. “I would feel torn. But I still love you.”

“So you see, it’s complicated,” he said. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, dispelling anxious energy. “But I am going to fix it. I just need to get through to them, and I need to make sure that PR can handle this.”

Bee nodded. “Okay.”

“And I love you,” he said. “I’m sorry I rushed out here without an explanation. I just wanted to set the record straight with my family first. I needed to tell them that it doesn’t matter to me. I couldn’t do that while in bed with you. I didn’t want to read those things about you in front of you.”

Bee gulped. She didn’t think she wanted to know what they were either, what lies her ex had spun about her. She thanked the powers that be that she hadn’t checked her phone.

“I’m going to turn it off,” he said. “My phone. I think you should too. It was better that way when we were filming, and we just didn’t even know about it. I have a call with my PR person in an hour to figure out a statement, and then this stupid piece of metal and glass is getting turned off for the rest of our vacation.”

Bee nodded again. “I like the sound of that. Is everything going to be okay with your family?”

“I think they’ll get over it,” Dieter said. “They’re pretty relaxed, they just get defensive.”

“Oh,” Bee said. Maybe they had a reason to.

“Come here,” he said, reaching out for her. She grabbed onto his hand, and he pulled her against his chest so that they both faced the ocean. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re a star, Bee. And this is one of the stupid shitty things that comes from being a star.”

They stayed like that for a while, gazing out into the vastness of the sea, until Dieter had to leave to make his phone call with his PR team. Bee stayed in bed, busying herself by watching a movie on the massive flatscreen in their room.

When he came back, Dieter had the silliest grin on his face, one that made Bee feel a bit uneasy about what the statement would be.

“What do you think?” he asked, showing her his phone.

The text read, ‘Dieter Bravo deeply regrets that there are some that take issue with the fact that his girlfriend finds him attractive. He finds himself quite lucky to be admired by her. He also states that their show comes out on Netflix at the end of the year.’

Bee huffed a laugh through her nose. “It’s perfect.”

“I think so, too,” Dieter said, kissing her. “But not as perfect as you.”

***

Going back to the States felt a bit like getting off the private yacht Dieter took her on. She needed time to get her bearings again, to get rid of her sea legs, and to learn how to walk on dry land again. There was a reason why celebrities were so worn down, so prone to using substances to get through shit. At least, that’s how Bee felt when she returned to L.A. The brief, romantic excursion with Dieter washed away the exhaustion from filming, but it was quickly replaced with sheer sensory overload upon her return to American soil.

Paparazzi flashes at the airport left her eyes blotted with disrupting color, Dieter’s hand felt too hot in hers under the Californian sun, and her phone would not stop buzzing from the moment she turned it back on.

Every waking moment there were calls, texts, emails, and inquiries—everyone wanted to see her, talk to her, have her audition, and even have her model. Magazines, photoshoots, commercials, interviews. The barrage was a neverending deluge of people too unprofessional to leave her personal cell alone and direct their calls and questions to her agent, Mark.

“I’m going to change my fucking number,” Bee hissed, opening another bombardment of texts. “People Magazine really sinks this low? This photographer has texted me ten times in the last hour.”

Claire’s blonde head was stuck in the freezer, but Bee could still hear her laugh. Her best friend was barely clothed, her legs in the tiniest jean shorts and her torso wrapped in only a sports bra. The thermostat touched 106 degrees, and the air conditioning in the condo struggled to keep up.

“Those bastards. Sick Mark on them. He’ll set them straight,” Claire said. “Want another popsicle?”

Bee swept her hair back into a knot on the back of her head to get her hair off of her sweaty neck. Her dogs were spread out on the couch, leaving very little room for Claire to join her on the couch.

“I’d love one,” Bee said. “I feel like I’m roasting to death. Global warming is no joke.”

Claire giggled and rustled around in the freezer. Bee followed Claire’s advice and texted Mark about People Magazine. It would be a great opportunity, but she refused to get in the habit of negotiating her own prices and schedule, and her mom would freak out if she had to change her phone number to get rid of these pesky photographers.

“Are you going house hunting today?” Claire asked, handing over the popsicle and plopping down on the couch, narrowly missing sitting on Fudgy.

“Hell no, not with this weather,” Bee set her phone down in her lap. “Dieter wants to take a drive along the coast for some fresh air, but I think I might melt on the way to the car.”

“We can always hunt on Zillow a little bit,” Claire shrugged. “There’s so much available right now.”

Bee bit her lip. The idea of buying a home right now was a little too much for her to handle, but she felt like she couldn’t admit that to Claire. She didn’t want to be the type of roommate that said she would move out but never ended up doing so. In a way, she almost wanted Claire to just give her an end date, but there was no way Claire would ever rush her into leaving the safety of the condo.

Safety was her main concern if she was honest with herself. The concept of a security guard or security team was something Bee hadn’t fully gotten her head wrapped around, but Claire was used to the attention. Upon their return to the States, there was always someone available to walk them to their cars or escort them to the grocery store from afar But Bee had been back for a month now and had barely left the house. She hadn’t driven on her own, not once, and grocery delivery had been her best friend. There was no way no one had noticed that fear was starting to take over Bee’s life, but she passed it off as best as she could.

The hot weather was a great excuse, and so was a timely bout of the flu that kept her “out of commission” for a week. Dieter managed to drag her out of the house for drives every other day, but they rarely ventured out of the car for too long.

“Zillow sounds good,” Bee said, pulling up the app on her phone. There was no commitment to scrolling through houses on the app, but if she thought about it for a little too long, her hands would get clammy, and her heart would start beating a little too fast.

Together, they sat and scrolled through the lists of houses, checking out various neighborhoods. Claire would list out celebs she knew that lived in each neighborhood, and Bee would nod and smile and laugh about being neighbors with some of the stars she had looked up to for her entire life.

There was just so much to buy a house—her mom had come to America in search of providing her a life that would allow her to do just this, so she felt proud to be a homeowner someday, but the financials scared her, and the security scared her, and the fact that, like Claire was listing out—everyone would know where she lived, including creeps, stalkers, paparazzi, and maybe most importantly, her ex.

“You okay?” Claire asked, and Bee froze.

“Yeah? I’m fine,” Bee said. “Are you okay?”

She sounded too defensive, and she knew it. Claire had grown to know her like another version of herself. They’d spent months in each other’s company.

“I’m fine,” Claire said, pointing to Bee’s hands. “Your hands are shaking, girl. What is up?”

“Nothing’s up,” Bee lied, but Claire’s accusatory face hadn’t changed. She sighed and changed the lie, twisting it just slightly so it would fit. “I’m just excited, is all. It’s all overwhelming and a little crazy, having this much money and buying power. I never thought I would have that.”

It was partly true, and that was good enough for Claire. Her face softened, brows sliding down to a sympathetic position.

“Oh, I know,” Claire said. She set her phone down and reached out to place her hand on top of Bee’s. “It feels really weird to go from nothing to something all of a sudden. One day you go from never being able to afford a home anywhere in Southern California, and now you can buy a place in one of the hottest neighborhoods in L.A. It’s like whiplash.”

Bee nodded and ran her fingers through Marshmallow’s fur absentmindedly.

“It is,” Bee said. “It feels like I’m stealing, almost. Or cheated the system, like this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“No, Bee,” Claire insisted. “You did the work. You deserve this outcome.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten paid this much if it wasn’t for Dieter,” Bee pointed out.

Claire frowned. “So you feel weird about it because you and Dieter are dating? That’s not right, Bee. Dieter would have done that for any female co-star, whether or not it was you. He’s very passionate about equal pay, and you two had almost identical line share, identical screen time.”

“No, it’s not that,” Bee said. “I don’t think it’s Dieter’s fault or my fault or anything. It just feels strange to have so much when I used to have so little. I mean, I was sharing an apartment with that awful man with barely anything. The whole place was filled with furniture that I either thrifted or scraped pennies together in order to buy. My car is still shitty. It’s not even remotely celebrity worthy.”

“You’ll get used to it, though,” Claire said. “One day, you won’t feel so weird about it. Your finances will be handled by professionals, you won’t really need to buy anything to live, it’ll all be investments and fun money, and it won’t feel like so much of a burden.”

“I just don’t want to forget about it all,” Bee said, changing the subject. “About Disney or any of it. The struggle is important. It’s part of who I am.”

Claire nodded. “You won’t. I mean, especially the traumatic stuff. It sticks with you even when you’re doing great. Believe me, I know.”

“I don’t really want to look at houses anymore this afternoon,” Bee admitted. “Can we just hang out?”

“Yeah, totally,” Claire said. “Want me to ask Dieter if he can come over? We started that show with him here the other night, and I don’t want to watch it without him.”

“Sure,” Bee said. She wouldn’t mind seeing him today. Though they’d seen each other quite a bit since they’d returned from their vacation after filming, she never got sick of seeing her boyfriend. For the first time, she felt like there was someone else in the world who saw her and loved her how she was meant to be loved. She felt appreciated, worshipped, even.

Claire typed out the invitation on her phone, and Bee flipped her iPhone back into Do Not Disturb mode, hoping that today would be the day that people would catch on and leave her alone.

Claire and Bee sat in silence for most of the time it took for Dieter to make his way over to the condo, and Bee rested her eyes on the couch. Stress and anxiety really took their toll on her energy levels. Before long, there was a familiar knock on their door, and Fudgy and Marshmallow were up and barking as they knew their favorite person was at the door for them.

“Hey, boys!” Dieter said excitedly, kneeling down to give each of her puppies the attention they were craving. He ruffled Fudgy’s ears and scratched at Marshmallow’s butt. “Did you miss me?”

Bee unfolded herself from her position on the couch to meet him over at the door.

“Hey, Bee,” Dieter said, standing up and giving her an easy smile. “Phone doing any better?”

Claire quickly turned on the TV and navigated to the show they had been watching the other night, eager to start watching the show they’d been watching.

Bee rolled her eyes. “No. I mean, kind of. But mostly the same. Why are these people so desperate to get ahold of me?”

“You’re a star,” Dieter said, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close so that his chin touched the top of her head. “The world hasn’t even seen the show you did so much work on yet, but they still want more. Are you still so against changing your number?”

“I’ve had the same number for so long,” Bee said against his chest. “My mom would freak out. She’s freaking horrible with tech and phones. She’d harass the poor soul who got this old number until the end of time.”

Dieter stepped back and smiled at her, his lips pulling up the corners of his mouth.

“You’re so selfless,” he teased. “Punishing yourself so your mom doesn’t have to learn a new phone number. You know, not everyone has had the same cell number for the past two decades. It’s normal to get a new one every so often.”

“No, it’s not! Nothing is normal about having to change your phone number because people won’t stop harassing you!” Bee protested. Her tone was a little harsh, but she softened the outburst with a smile. “I mean, really. Being famous isn’t all sunshine and rainbows.”

“No one ever said it was,” Claire said, passing them both on her way to the kitchen. “I know it’s hot, but does anyone want snacks? Popcorn, chips, carrots, and dip? Wine? Beer? Something to eat?”

“Thanks, Mom,” Dieter joked. “I’ll take a beer.”

Claire made a face at him but ultimately grabbed a beer for him and poured herself and Bee each a glass of wine.

“Popcorn would be nice,” Bee said. “Like a little movie night.”

“Exactly,” Claire said. She placed a bag in the microwave and winked at her. “Movie nights are good for the soul.”

***

The next few weeks were just as stressful as the last, but with Dieter and Claire to keep her company, Bee felt her nerves starting to settle. She even let Dieter finally take her out with a list from his real estate agent to take a look at some smaller houses in his neighborhood. Her budget was flexible thanks to his contract negotiations, and with a healthy list of auditions stacking up, Bee had high hopes for future cash that would back up her new asset.

It was one thing to buy a house with cash and quite another thing to worry about the hefty property taxes on it.

Dieter liked the idea of them each having their own place, especially if hers was smaller. They could rent hers out whenever they were ready to move in together, he would say, and Bee would smile. She was excited for the day that would come, but in the meantime, it felt good to dream about independence.

“Why is it that a house makes you so nervous?” he asked her after they looped through the third street on her list.

She looked at him and pushed her sunglasses onto her forehead to look at him clearer. “What makes you think I’m nervous?”

“Your hands are balled up in fists,” Dieter pointed out. “They’re only ever like that when you’re nervous about something.”

Bee frowned. He saw right through her, and after almost two months of lying to both Claire and Dieter about her feelings about buying a house, it felt like time to come clean.

“Can we not talk about it right now?” Bee asked. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

“You aren’t ruining anything,” Dieter promised. “But of course, we can stop by my house after this next street and grab a cold drink and talk?”

Bee nodded. It was another hot day, but she hadn’t been able to use the heat as an excuse to weasel out of going house hunting today—not after L.A.’s latest heat wave that had no end in sight.

“That’s a nice one,” Dieter commented as they drove slowly past another option. “I like the color.”

“Yeah,” Bee agreed. “This one is my favorite. The curb appeal and everything. Plus it has a really nice pool. Do you think the dogs would like swimming?”

Dieter laughed. “Yes, I think Fudgy, for sure. Maybe not Marshmallow.”

“Really?” Bee asked. “I was thinking it would be the other way around.”

Dieter shook his head. “I know my sons.”

Bee made a kissy face at him, and Dieter leaned in for a quick peck. She loved it when he referred to himself as their father, as silly as it sounded. They hadn’t had conversations about children or anything like that, not yet, but his adoption of her two small dogs made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

They drove past two more houses for sale that Bee didn’t like as much before Dieter directed them back onto his street and parked in his driveway. Bee followed him into his house, gripping the straps of her purse as she walked. She’d only been to Dieter’s house once, as he preferred to come over to Claire’s to see the dogs when they spent time together.

His house was nice, fresh, and clean and had plenty of windows. Today the shades were drawn in an attempt to ward off the heat, leaving the space darker than usual. Dieter led her to the kitchen, a large and expensive looking one at that, equipped with a luxury stove and a massive island counter.

“Tell me all about it, babe,” Dieter said, opening the fridge. “It’s almost been two months since we’ve been back, and you used to be so excited about buying a house. What happened? What changed?”

“It’s…well,” Bee didn’t know how to talk about her feelings. They had been trapped within her for so long that they almost felt stuck. She’d gotten somewhere with it with Claire a few weeks ago, but that was just the surface of her hesitation. “Okay, there’s a lot of different things.”

“Well, start with one,” Dieter said. He poured her a glass of lemonade with plenty of ice cubes in it. “We can work from there. What’s the first thing that comes to mind?”

“Safety,” Bee sighed. “I’m worried about people knowing where to find me, breaking in, stealing my dogs. People do that! It happened to Lady Gaga. It could happen to Fudgy or Marshmallow. Paparazzi catching me taking the trash out, a creeper being in the back of my car when I go to leave the house, and kidnapping me. It’s all in my head just how dangerous it is.”

Dieter nodded, his brown eyes full of understanding. “We’ll get you security, Bee. You’ll be safer than you’ve ever been before. You’ve never lived alone, have you?”

“No,” Bee admitted. “But I want to. I really do, I don’t want to overstay my welcome with Claire, and I’m not ready to live with another man.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to do it yet.”

“But I do,” Bee insisted.

“You do?” Dieter raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you had a move-out date or anything from Claire. She loves living with you.”

Bee’s shoulders sagged, and she took a long sip of her lemonade to clear the tightening feeling in her throat. “It’s not Claire. It’s me. It’s what I want to do, but at the same time, I’m just so scared.”

“That’s okay,” Dieter said. “It’s okay to be afraid about safety, but I’ll make sure that you have the best of the best when it comes to security. I know all the good companies. So does Claire. That’s something that you won’t have to worry about when you move out, I promise you. Okay?”

Bee nodded. That did make her feel a lot better, and she wished she’d brought it up to him earlier. “Okay. Yeah. I trust you, Dieter.”

“Good,” he smiled. “What’s the other thing?”

“Um, money,” she admitted. “Property taxes, expenses. What if I never get another role, and I can’t afford to keep myself safe?”

“Not going to happen,” Dieter promised. “You’re getting so many auditions. You’re so talented.”

“Yeah,” Bee agreed. “That’s true. I’ve already been talking myself out of that fear. I am kind of worried it’ll all disappear once people actually see the show and realize I’m awful at this and don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Impossible,” Dieter said, stepping closer to her. “You’re amazing. You’re a true hidden gem of Hollywood. There’s no way anyone would let you slip out of the spotlight. You’re just too good for that. How many auditions do you have next week?”

“Um,” Bee counted them in her head. “Five?”

“Insane,” Dieter laughed. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. “You’re crushing it.”

“Thank you,” Bee said, pulling back and giving him a peck on the lips. There were tears at the corners of her eyes, and she tried to hide them from him, but he saw them and wiped them away. “But they’re opportunities, not sure things.”

“There’s more for you,” Dieter insisted and kissed both of her cheeks. “I know there is. And what else are you afraid of? Is there anything else I can help fact-check for you?”

Bee sniffed. “I mean, you’re doing such a good job. You could probably fact-check all of my worries.”

“I know I can,” Dieter said. “I’m your biggest fan, Bee.”

“Do you run the Bee Fan Club?” she joked, tapping him on the nose.

“I’m the Bee Fan Club President,” Dieter said, the biggest smile plastered on his face. “Unanimously voted in. Anything else?”

“I think the last thing is the guilt. I talked about it with Claire a little bit, but I’m worried about losing the girl I was when I met you. The girl at Disney might go away forever, and I don’t want you to hate the new me,” Bee admitted. “Who will I be with a multi-million dollar home? You know? I think that changes people.”

“No, don’t think that way,” Dieter said. “You will always be that Disney girl who captivated me from the very first moment. House or no house, you will always be Bee.”

Bee let his words sit with her for a moment. He was right. She was Bee, and as Claire had said, she wouldn’t ever lose her history. The context that came with her story was why she was able to connect with certain characters in her audition scripts, in her main role, to other people. Her entire life, she had wanted this stardom. She wouldn’t let it ruin her.

“Okay, I think I’m ready to go out and look at more houses,” Bee said.

“Finish your lemonade,” Dieter said. “Then we can go out and look again.”

“Can we start over?” Bee asked. “I wasn’t really paying attention to the other ones we’d driven past. I was feeling so sick to my stomach about it. I really want to look at them again for real this time.”

“Of course we can,” Dieter said, kissing her on the lips. “Let’s do it.”

***

New keys in hand and Marshmallow and Fudgy anxiously wanting to get out of the rain, Bee unlocked the door to her first-ever home. The house was two blocks away from Dieter, a short drive from Claire, and the most perfect choice she could have ever made. The home was nestled between two other newer celebrities, so not only did she have her own security team but the security teams of other celebrities right on either side.

Her mom visited two weeks before, and the experience was okay—not great, not terrible, but she was obsessed with Dieter and loved the house from the outside when they did a brief pre-closing walk-through. She cried, and Bee cried too. And Dieter even teared up even though he tried his best to sneak out of the home while mother and daughter shared their moment.

“You get back here,” her mom had said, pointing her finger at the ground where they stood. “You’re a part of this too. Thank you, Dieter. For being good to her.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Bee had said. And it was the best moment that they had shared in a long time.

After her mom came, life sped up rapidly. With the house purchase, upcoming move, and promo for the Netflix show rapidly approaching, Bee was surprisingly at ease. Her life felt better, busy, better while stressed with a full plate.

What is that saying again? Idle minds make problems. That’s what Bee wrote off her earlier anxiety as. Now, she felt better. More secure. She had a stable boyfriend, a relationship that felt healthy and supportive. Someone to go furniture shopping with at an actual furniture store instead of browsing thrift stores on her own with a partner at home that didn’t care.

“No, wait, Bee!” Dieter called out, jogging up the driveway. “I need to get a picture for your mom!”

Bee paused, key still in the door. She hadn’t yet pushed it open, so she pulled her hands away from the door and put her hands on her hips.

“What do you mean you need a picture for my mom? Is she texting you?” Bee accused.

Dieter looked sheepish. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s none of your business. But I do need a picture of you unlocking that door. I want one too. It’ll be a nice memory.”

“Fine,” Bee conceded. She put her hand back on the key and posed for his camera. “Got it?”

“Beautiful,” he said, looking at the finished result. “Alright, let’s get these pooches locked away. You said you wanted them to stay in the upstairs bathroom while we move stuff in?”

“Yes, please,” Bee said. “They’ll be less stressed that way. Is Claire coming right now with the rest of it?”

“Yep,” Dieter said. “And then we’ll have everything you own in your brand new home, and then we can go furniture shopping.”

“Not the thrift store?” Bee asked with a grin.

“Nope,” Dieter said. “Not IKEA either. We’re going to a real furniture store, with really nice stuff that will last you forever. Or at least until you get bored.”

Bee laughed and pushed the door open, opening the door to her first-ever home. The dogs rushed inside, happy to be out of the rain, and immediately started bouncing up and down.

“Are you happy, boys? Your mom bought her own house!” Dieter said, getting the dogs more excited. He knelt down and unhooked both of their leashes, leading them up the stairs to where they would stay while they completed the quick, moving process.

Bee still didn’t have much—she hadn’t bought much of anything since that day that she moved out of her and her boyfriend’s apartments. Then, her belongings only filled up her car and some in Claire’s, but now, she wouldn’t have to be afraid about rushing out of the home as quickly as she could. This was her house and would be her house until the day she decided to sell it or the day she died.

And one day, she might even share her own house with Dieter. Something that they could own together. Now that she’d made this big step on her own, that was her next goal. She didn’t want to move into his house.

She wanted something that they would share someday, half his and half hers.

***

“Bee! Look this way!” a paparazzo shouted, clicking his camera in her face. Bee covered her face with her hand and continued walking. The lights bothered her, even though she really didn’t care about getting caught out with a picture right now. Promo was starting for the Netflix show, and really, she needed the visibility right now.

All of the cast members had been asked to get out in public as much as possible. Dieter and Bee had several high-profile dates planned at fancy restaurants around town, a Disneyland trip with Claire that would harken back to the time when she once worked for Disney, and so many photoshoots that Bee couldn’t even get her schedule straight.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step away from Bee,” her security guard said. “She has somewhere to be at the moment, so it’s time to back off.”

“Thanks, Stephen,” Bee said once the paparazzo backed off, and she was safely in the car. “I appreciate you.”

“No need to thank me, Bee,” Stephen said. “It’s never a problem.”

Stephen had been there for her through the fall after she moved into her own home. She and Dieter had been careful about not spending too many nights at each other’s houses. Bee wanted the full experience of being alone and living alone for the first time, and that experience undoubtedly came with scary fans.

She was right, and her fears were realized. People found out where she lived when she purchased her home, as soon as the papers were filed. News articles were published with her address, a full-color photo of her new home, and the exact amount she paid for it. The articles came with plenty of nasty comments that played right into Bee’s thoughts about losing her identity as a poor girl. Of course, they did. But Bee’s skin grew thick quickly, and no one was able to touch her with the help of her capable security team.

There was only one near miss. One night, Stephen tazed someone in the bushes right outside her bedroom window. But that’s showbiz, baby. Bee reviewed it all in-depth with her brand-new therapist, courtesy of Dieter’s recommendation.

He had one, too, he told her over a nice dinner in her new home. Ever since he got really famous, he needed someone to keep him on track. He recommended a clinic that many celebrities went to, a place that was super discrete and even offered telehealth. She tried it, and it helped her, so she kept going.

Bee’s driver delivered her and Stephen to the Netflix studio for a photoshoot. It was a solo shoot, so there was no Dieter or Claire today. Her therapist helped her work through these scenarios over the past couple of months as she prepared herself for stepping back into the public in such a huge way.

She needed the coaching, especially with two more roles on the horizon. The Bridgerton show was set to release in a month, in December, and her next show started filming in January in New Mexico. Dieter would be coming along for half of the filming time, as he had a break in his schedule, but for the rest of the two-month filming schedule, she would be alone.

Then, she would have the spring to relax and rehearse in L.A. before she would go to Canada to film a new Disney Marvel movie in the summer. Dieter wasn’t sure what his schedule looked like for then yet. There was the Star Wars show, but they hadn’t decided on a filming time yet. But after a lot of conversation, Bee and Dieter decided that it was in both of their best interests to keep a focus on work and make time for each other when they could.

Bee needed her independence and her own experience as a celebrity, and Dieter was so in demand that he couldn’t pass up on opportunities just to stay in L.A. with her.

They would visit on natural breaks in the filming schedules and try to find projects that had some overlap, each choosing something with a summer filming schedule and resting at the same times throughout the year.

Bee was happy with it. She didn’t need Dieter every night, even though she wanted him around that frequently. She was learning who she was, growing into a celebrity, and growing into her relationship with Dieter.

She checked her phone as she walked into the studio. It buzzed four times in her purse in quick succession, so it must have been something important. Photographers no longer reached out to her through her personal phone after she mentioned in an interview that it was her biggest celebrity pet peeve. Instead, it was Dieter who was messaging her.

[Dieter]: Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled, but there’s something going on.

[Dieter]: Your ex got my number somehow.

[Dieter]: He’s been making threats that seem pretty credible. I hope you trust me that I would never escalate something unless it were necessary. I’ve had my team contact the police.

[Dieter]: I love you, don’t worry about this while you are at your shoot. Everything is going to be ok.

Bee blew out the breath she had been holding in through her teeth. Great, this was just what she needed right before a big shoot.

Everything had been so good lately, so stable, and it had been months. Why now? But then she realized. Of course, he would come back into her life now. Of course, he would. Her big debut was releasing in a month, and he didn’t want her to have all she had now. He probably saw the articles about her shiny new house that she bought all on her own, the press about how critics who had seen the early release already loved her performance, and the paparazzi pics that were flooding social media every day.

She couldn’t hold this in throughout the photoshoot. Not only did she know herself better, but she was told by her therapist that she shouldn’t. There was plenty of time before she needed to be in hair in makeup to go and give Dieter a quick phone call to get all of the information. She wanted to make sure that he was safe and that the dogs were safe. Had Dieter contacted her security team too?

It had to be now. This phone call couldn’t wait.

Bee dialed Dieter’s number from his message thread and waited for him to pick up. She stood right inside the doors of the studio and leaned against the wall.

“Hey babe,” Dieter said. He sounded slightly panicked, more nervous than she’d ever heard him before. He was moving around, too, walking from what she could tell.

“Hey,” Bee said. “You need to tell me what’s going on. I really need to know all of the details before I go into the photo shoot.”

“Are you sure?” Dieter asked. “I just don’t want to overwhelm you right before. Do you really want to know?”

“Yeah,” Bee said. “Did you make sure Stephen knows too? I want to make sure the dogs are ok.”

“I actually asked them to bring the dogs over to my place just for today. Since you’ll be gone all day. Is that okay?” 

Bee closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s okay. Is it really that bad? What did he say he was going to do?”

“Um,” Dieter trailed off, and Bee could hear the sound of him moving the blinds. She imagined him peeking out the window and making sure he was safe. It made her heart feel tight in her chest.

“Is it really that bad?” Bee asked again. “Do I need to do anything? Should I come home?”

“No, you’re safer there,” Dieter insisted. “Do your photoshoot. It’s important. He just—he basically just said he was going to kill me. It’s probably just a stupid threat, and maybehe won’t even show up, but he said how and when he was going to do it.”

“How?” Bee breathed.

“You don’t want to know. It’s okay,” Dieter said. “Please trust me. We can talk more about it later. But the police are involved, and with my security, we’ll be fine. We should probably stay at my place tonight because I already have people in place. Or maybe a hotel? I’ll talk with the cops about what we should do, but if we’re all together with both teams? I know it’s not our night to stay together tonight, we’re usually at separate houses on Wednesdays, and I don’t want to cross that boundary, but I think for safety, maybe? I don’t know, I’m not an expert at this sort of thing, but maybe it would make me feel safer, but you should also do what feels safest to you.”

“Dieter,” Bee interrupted. “Of course.”

“Sorry,” Dieter apologized. “‘Of course’ to which part? Sorry, I was rambling.”

“Of course, I’ll stay with you,” Bee said. “We don’t have to stick to any schedule. It’s just a guideline. A good habit of keeping ourselves spending a good amount of time in our own houses.”

“You’re right,” Dieter said. “I’m sorry, this just has me rattled. I’ve had death threats before, but they’ve always been from crazy strangers. And I guess, to me, your ex is a crazy stranger too, but—just because he knows you, it feels more real. It’s like a real person actually wants to kill me, and for kind of a good reason.”

“What?” Bee laughed. “There is no good reason to kill someone ever. What did you do to make my ex want to kill you that’s a good reason?”

“I stole the best woman in the world right out from under his nose,” Dieter said, stone-cold serious. “I’d kill me too if I were him.”

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s himself he should be angry with. He blocked his own shot on that one,” Bee said honestly. “And for what it’s worth, I’ve never been happier.”

“That’s good,” Dieter said.

“It is good,” Bee agreed.

“Then my valiant death will be worth it,” Dieter joked.

“Oh my god, I am going to hang up on you,” Bee said, clutching her chest. “You cannot joke like that while my psycho ex is threatening to kill you. There will be no dying, no death, no nothing. It’s not allowed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dieter said. “No dying, no death, no nothing. I’ll see you when you get home?”

“Yes,” Bee sighed. “I’ll see you when I get home. After eight hours of prancing around in a corset. I’m going to need a bath.”

“Good thing I have a bathtub,” Dieter teased.

“Listen, my house may not have a bathtub, but it makes up for it in character and three incredible showers,” Bee said. “Plus, I can easily pay to have a bathtub put in.”

“Okay, Miss Moneybags, go have fun at your photo shoot,” Dieter said. “I’ll man the fort here with the dogs. They’re on their way over.”

“Alright. I love you,” Bee said into the phone. She pushed off the wall and opened the second door to the Netflix studio.

“I love you, too,” Dieter said. “So very much.”

***

The week before the premiere of their show, Dieter and Bee went on their planned outing to Disneyland. The trip wasn’t like she remembered from her days at Disney as an employee, nor was it like when she went with Dieter before the park opened for their filmed segment. Instead, it was security all around them and fans trying desperately to get their attention.

It was a cool day, the Christmas decorations were hung up, and throughout the day people mostly got the message that both of them didn’t want to be bothered while they were grabbing churros in Tomorrowland and holding hands in line for Space Mountain.

“Are you having a good time?” Dieter asked her, handing her a churro.

Bee took a bite and nodded. “Of course I am. I love Disney.”

“So do I,” Dieter said. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “It’s my favorite like this, with all of the decorations up before Christmas.”

“Mine too,” Bee agreed. “And the treats at Christmas are always the best.”

“Did you invent any of them?” Dieter asked.

“I’m sure there’s something I worked on that’s out this year,” Bee said. “We’ll have to stop by the bakery.”

The line for Space Mountain moved quickly, and luckily, the people directly around them either didn’t know who they were or didn’t think to bother them. They held hands in line, flirted, and pretended like they weren’t two celebrities that were about to become exponentially more famous with the release of their show.

It was sure to be a hit, something that critics were raving over already, reviews now being published online, with some of them claiming that their Bridgerton spinoff show was better than both seasons of the original.

After watching it herself, Bee was inclined to agree with them. Not that she was biased or anything. Though, the one thing she didn’t like was watching the spicy scenes that were sprinkled throughout. It felt a bit like watching self-made porn since it was her and her boyfriend. Also, no woman should ever have to look at her own fake moaning face. It was mortifying.

“Which Mountain is your favorite?” Bee asked Dieter as they were about to get on the ride.

“Space, Splash or…?” Dieter trailed off, unable to remember the third.

“Big Thunder,” Bee said.

“Oh, Space for sure,” Dieter said.

“Agreed. Space is the best one.”

Together, they stepped into their seats right at the front of the line and linked hands. The ride was a rush, adrenaline pumping through their veins, and Bee laughed like a maniac the entire time, black hair whirling through the air. Dieter squeezed her hand hard and screamed so loud that it hurt her ears.

“Are you actually scared?” Bee yelled over the sound of the coaster.

Either he couldn’t hear her or he refused to answer the question, but Bee could have sworn that Dieter was truly frightened. And when they got off of the coaster, both of their hair tussled from the windy spins of the indoor coaster. Dieter led Bee straight to the exit where the ride photos were displayed.

“Oh my god,” Dieter said when they walked up to it, the apples of his cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “It’s so bad.”

His mouth was opened wide, a scream of terror upon his lips. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and his hand, in hers, lifted high above his head. Bee was smiling, exhilarated, but her hair was draped over her eyes, and her hand was yanked high into the air by Dieter.

Bee scanned the code for the photo to add it to her phone. “It’s perfect.”

***

“Are you ready?” Dieter asked her, holding her hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Bee said, giving his hand a squeeze. She’d grown used to the feeling of his warm skin against hers, the tingling she still got from his touch, and the goosebumps that made her feel like they were destined to be together. Attracted on an electrical level, a soul level, something bigger than just man meets woman.

Or maybe that was just the romance digging around in her brain. Her next role would be a romance too, but the one after that was action. She’d cycle through characters for the next several years, or so it seemed. Over the last week, she secured three more roles, each scheduled more than a year out from now.

“We’ll struggle for time to plan the wedding,” Dieter had said when she told him about the most recent series she booked. He was lying in her bed with his shirt off, Fudgy and Marshmallow tucked against either side of him, snoozing away.

Bee had looked at him, wide-eyed in shock. “What did you just say?”

“Just kidding,” Dieter had said. “No need to worry about it.”

“Well, what do you mean?” Bee had asked.

“I mean, we’ll have plenty of time for a wedding whenever we decide that’s something we want,” Dieter had laughed. And then she’d kissed him until her lips hurt.

But that was days ago. Now, they stood hand in hand, ready to go into their last interview before their show’s debut. It was supposed to be their biggest bit of pre-release promo. The next set of promotions they would do would all happen after fans had seen the show.

Appearances for YouTube videos, social media, podcasts, and smaller pieces of short-form content that were perfect for viral TikToks.

This interview, though, was for primetime TV. Bee and Dieter—the newest stars of your favorite Netflix show.

TV interviews were exactly how Bee expected them to be. Hot, bright lights and assistants fussing over every stray hair and stray eyelash on her cheek. She felt self-conscious, looking at how the assistants focused so closely on her but left Dieter mostly alone. He was flawlessly beautiful, but they needed to work so hard on her.

Maybe she didn’t belong with him after all.

No, Bee, she told herself. You do belong with him. He loves you, and you love him, and that’s all that matters.

Therapy had helped with those doubts, with testing reality and making sure she was grounded, but it still didn’t quite erase the anxiety she felt when she felt like she didn’t belong in places.

The interviewer was bottle blonde, hot and thin, and effortlessly beautiful. She sat across from them with a slim notebook in her nails, French manicured nails tapping on the front of the journal absentmindedly. The cameras in front of her were massive, a bright green screen right behind her.

“I’m Melissa,” she said. “It’s so great to meet you, Dieter and Bee.”

“Hi Melissa,” Bee said with a cheery voice. She put her best foot forward for this interview, embracing her actress persona. As much as she tried to stay true to herself, there was a mask she always put on when she was interviewing or posing for photos, or acting. She was rarely her true self when there was a camera around.

“Good to see you again, Melissa,” Dieter said. Of course, he knew her. He’d likely interviewed with her dozens of times before. There was a pang of jealousy in her chest. She didn’t like that he was so good at all of these things, and she was still learning.

“Ready to launch this damn show? I haven’t gotten to watch it early. Someone at Netflix took away my access, can you fucking believe it?” Melissa asked. Dieter laughed, so Bee laughed too.

“Hell yeah,” Dieter said, slipping into his own persona, which wasn’t so far from his own self, or at least the person Bee had come to know.

“Action!” someone on set said.

“Hi, everyone. It’s Melissa here. I’m here with Dieter and Bee from Netflix’s newest show, Before Bridgerton, A Bridgerton Story, which is set to release tonight at midnight,” Melissa said directly into the camera. “The show follows Duncan and Celine as they battle their feelings and the expectations put on them by Regency era London while trying to avoid falling in love, at all costs.”

“So, I’ve got to ask,” Melissa continued. “How much fun was shooting this show? Because from the trailer and the sneak peeks of the costuming, it looks like this series is going to be better than the original Bridgerton.”

She looked toward Bee for a response, so Bee decided to go first.

“You know, I’ve never gotten to wear a corset before I filmed for this series, and I can’t say that corsets are the most comfortable attire, but the costuming team really went all out with the dresses for this show. I felt like a Disney princess every single day,” Bee said with a grin.

“Seriously!” Melissa said. “It looked like my dream come true. I want to try one on.”

“I’ve got one at my house,” Bee joked. “We could go have a dress-up party later on if you want.”

“I’d love that! I might have to take you up on that, Bee! And what about you, Dieter? Have you ever had to wear clothes like this for a project?”

“Um, no, actually. I’ve worn my fair share of designer clothes, but nothing that required me to wear such a tight neck scarf. Though I’ve gotta say, I might need to incorporate them into my wardrobe after this. They look pretty good,” Dieter said.

“They do! You look pretty sharp in those promos,” Melissa said.

“Thank you, Melissa,” Dieter said, and Bee tried her best to ignore the compliment given to her boyfriend right in front of her. It seemed like a slight flirtation, but maybe she was just being nice.

“And what was your favorite moment on set?” Melissa asked, opening her notebook and

pretending to read off the page. From where Bee was sitting, she couldn’t see a single word on

the page.

“Oh my gosh,” Dieter said with a grin. “You know, this cast was so fun to work with. I wouldn't exactly call our show a comedy, but this cast has some of the funniest people I’ve ever met. I think my favorite moment on set was when our co-star, Claire, took a bite out of an apple, and she was supposed to be doing it seductively, but someone else kept forgetting a line. After so many takes, she kept starting over with new apples to the point where she probably ate ten whole apples over an hour of filming the scene.”

“No way,” Melissa said. “Was she okay? I feel like I would hurl if I had to eat ten apples so quickly. What was the line that was messed up? Did whoever it was feel bad that poor Claire had to keep biting into the apple?”

Bee wrestled back her embarrassment. It was her who kept messing up that scene, but Dieter didn’t reveal it. She’d laughed at Claire’s misery when it was happening, and so had everyone else. They were exhausted, it was hot, and when all was said and done it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“She tried to spit it out of her mouth at one point, but it was all recorded since the camera was rolling, so that strategy didn’t exactly work out for her,” Bee interjected.

“And what about you, Bee? Your favorite moment?” Melissa asked.

It was the picnic she and Dieter had on that hillside outside the castle they toured together. But something about that moment seemed too private to share with Melissa and with the world. That moment was for her and Dieter alone, locked away in their memories.

So, Bee came up with something else. Something less near and dear to her heart. Something else entirely.

“Mine was less of a moment and more of something that happened often,” Bee said. “But we got to eat a lot of the food that you see throughout the show. All the balls and banquets had real food at them, cakes and feasts, and the cooks were incredible. Best food I’d ever eaten.”

“So, a little birdie told me that you two have been dating throughout the filming process and since you’ve returned to Los Angeles,” Melissa said.

Dieter laughed and readjusted his position in his chair, and Bee acted similarly. They were going for bashful as if they’d been caught and had no idea other people knew. Even though Dieter had already made a statement about it, it was better to play it innocently, according to the folks at Netflix.

“Maybe,” Dieter said, looking over at Bee. “Um, do you wanna?”

“Do I wanna what?” Bee asked him with a small laugh.

“I guess I’ll just—yeah, yeah, we have been dating,” Dieter said.

“Well, we know you made a statement! The birdie was you!” Melissa laughed.

“Okay, yeah,” Dieter confessed.

“Yes,” Bee confirmed. “We’re together. As Bee and Dieter and as Celine and Duncan. In real life and on the screen.”

“Oh, I just love that,” Melissa cooed. “So when people tune into your show, they’re going to see like actual love?”

“Um,” Bee bit her lip. “Well, I don’t know if it was truly love back then for us? I don’t quite remember the exact timeline.”

“But it’s love now?” Melissa probed.

“Oh, absolutely,” Dieter confirmed, maybe a little too passionately. “I mean, right?”

Bee laughed. “Of course, it is, silly.”

Melissa fawned over them and scribbled in her little notebook.

“So, how did you and Dieter meet?” she asked. “Did you meet on set? Was it love at first sight, or did you have a slow burn throughout the filming process?”

“I-” Dieter started, but then Melissa interrupted once more.

“Oh no! The photos from London came out before you filmed, so did you bond over your traumatic experience?”

“Well,” Dieter said, placing his hand on top of hers. “Should I tell or do you want to tell it?”

“You go ahead,” Bee said, smiling up at him.

“So, Bee and I actually met at Disney,” Dieter explained. “There’s a promotional video for my Disney+ show, the Star Wars one, where Bee actually interviewed me. And it was pretty much then when I realized that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”

“So then what? How did you end up on a show together?” Melissa pressed. “That’s a pretty big coincidence.

That coincidence was exactly what Bee had been afraid of. Cries of nepotism or Dieter getting her roles were what she didn’t want, but Dieter knew how to avoid it. Bee had done all the work to get the role. Dieter or no Dieter, she probably would have still gotten it.

“Well, Bee was also working on becoming an actress at the time. It was genuinely a coincidence that Bee and I both auditioned, and the directors could see the same chemistry that I guess we were both feeling at the time.”

“Oh, definitely,” Melissa agreed. “I can see it right now. You two are such a beautiful couple.”

“Thank you, Melissa,” Bee and Dieter said at the same time.

“Well, that’s all the time we have. Be sure to stream Bee and Dieter’s newest show, Bridgerton: Before Bridgerton tonight, starting at midnight local time. I know I am going to binge watch it, and you should too.”

***

Bee’s premiere dress was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was cut deep down to her sternum, revealing her cleavage and hugging tight to her curves, but she felt the most confident she’d ever felt before. Dieter stood by her side, waiting away from the cameras as other celebrities walked the red carpet and cameras flashed.

He was dressed to the nines, looking hotter than he’d ever looked to her before, and his calming presence by her side was like a weighted blanket keeping her safe and warm.

“You guys are next,” Claire said to them as she prepared to step out onto the carpet. She picked up her dress with her hands and walked out and around the corner. “Best of luck.”

“You’re gonna kill it, Claire,” Bee called out after her, but her best friend probably couldn't hear her over the sound of cameras flashing.

“So will you,” Dieter whispered, his lips suddenly close to her ear. His mouth was almost against her neck, running goosebumps down her arms and tingling down her spine.

“So will you,” Bee said, her back still turned to him.

“It’s about to be our turn,” he said, planting a kiss on her skin. “After you, Bee.”

She didn’t look back at him but instead walked out and around the corner with her head held high. Confidence ran her, pushing her out into the sea of lights and cameras.

“Bee!” the crowd screamed. “Bee! Oh my god!”

Then, followed by the cries of “Dieter! Bee and Dieter look this way!”

“Are you ready?” Dieter asked her, his lips close by her ear this time, giving her hand three squeezes.

She turned around and kissed him right on the lips in front of the cameras.

“Yes,” Bee said. “I am.”

Dieter POV 1 | Series Masterlist