#meanwhile I should be excited about going home tomorrow but currently feel absolutely nothing about it

[isfjmel-phleg]

(

[mercy-burning]

Love Birds

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Some meddling from the BAU helps Reader and Spencer come to their senses. Category: FLUFF Warnings: None really, just brief mentions of sex, some kissing, implied smut, mutual pining, and the word ‘damn’ at the end I guess? Word Count: 3.2k

Full Request: “...a blurb? Where the sexual tension between reader and spencer is very high and everybody is like ‘get a room’ so when they finally do it spencer tells penelope and reader tell emily so the next day penelope gives him those strawberries in chocolate that say ‘best dick ever’ and emily gives reader a cake that say ‘i finally get sex’ and reader and spencer are so embarrassed” —Anonymous

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

NOTE: Gotta love some good, ol’ fashioned BAU meddling, am I right? 😂 I took the prompt and made it just a little different, but I hope it’s still okay! Hopefully the overall vibe is still what you imagined 🥰

***

Everyone was watching them. Truthfully, it was a wonder they hadn't noticed by now, but that was most likely to be expected from two people who were obviously in love with each other and still hadn't done anything about it yet.

Three years now. That's how long it had been since Y/N joined the team, and from the first day, she and Spencer were glued at the hip. She was the only one who actively listened to and laughed at his long, obscure jokes, and as their friendship blossomed, he stared following her around like a lovesick puppy. It was sickly-sweet, truth be told.

And the longer it went on, the longer they danced around the inevitable, the more fed-up the BAU got.

Currently, Spencer and Y/N were reading a book together. Like, they were actually reading together, sitting side by side while they took turns reading aloud. They did it every day when they came into work, and when they finished one book, the other person would pick the next one.

"I want to say it's annoying, but it's actually kind of sweet," JJ pointed out, peering through the blinds in Hotch's office, where they all gathered to spy on their friends.

"Yeah, but they've been doing it for almost two years," Emily stated. "You'd think that by now they'd have at least kissed..."

"Maybe they have and they just... haven't said anything?"

Penelope piped in this time, shaking her head. "No, Y/N would have told me, she tells me everything. And I mean everything."

"Well, what about Reid? Has he said anything to you?" JJ asked, turning to Derek.

He sighed. "No. But you know how he is, if he could avoid telling me anything at all about his love life, he would. And he has."

"Well, maybe you should say something to him," Emily suggested.

"You know he'll just shut me down and deny it."

"Then Garcia should do it."

She thought about it for a second before turning to Derek. "I am excellent at getting information out of people."

Suddenly the door opened, and everyone turned around to see Hotch entering his office, stopping for a second to take them all in before closing the door behind him.

"Sir, we can explain—" Penelope started.

Hotch held up a hand and made his way to his desk. "You're spying on them, aren't you?"

A quiet chorus of mumbled 'yes' and 'yes, sir's sounded through the room before he actually sat down with the most miniscule of smiles.

"I'd say to make sure you all leave one at a time so they don't catch on, but something tells me they wouldn't notice anyway."

***

A few hours later, the team made their way to the jet in little groups.

Firstly, Penelope pulled Spencer away into her office for a 'special meeting' that he was only slightly concerned about. But when she finally closed the door, he found it was nothing like what he expected to hear.

The first words out of her mouth were, "When are you going to tell her?"

"I'm... I'm sorry?"

Her face scrunched as she pointed a finger at him. "Don't play dumb with me, 187, I may not be a profiler, but I know love when I see it. You and Y/N are perfect for each other, and you guys are literally driving us mad with the sexual tension."

"I—Garcia, we're just friends, I... I don't..."

"Look, you've got a plane to catch, so I'm not gonna keep you any longer, but everyone can see it, Reid. You two? You're practically soulmates."

He really didn't know what to say after that. So he wordlessly turned and made his way to the jet alone, thinking the entire way there about what Penelope had said.

Soulmates? Love? Sexual tension?

Of course he'd always thought Y/N was pretty. And there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she was the one person on the team he knew he could come to when he had something he was excited to share, because she was always down to hear him talk. And... he never really realized it until now, but it always warmed the deepest parts of his soul when he saw how her eyes lit up at the chance to hear him talk—to just listen to what he had to say.

He thought back to every time they read together, how her leg always brushed against his and how it always seemed to comfort him. How her voice when she read aloud always seemed to put him in a trance, like a lullaby. She was his warm place, his safety net...

But... that was totally normal for friendships, right? More often than not, platonic friendships carried that warm familiarity that also came with romantic ones. It wasn't uncommon.

Still, it set off an explosion of fireworks in Spencer's stomach to just think about sitting next to her on the jet.

Meanwhile, everyone else was there, going through some files on the case when Emily sat down in front of Y/N and cleared her throat.

"What's up?" Y/N asked politely with a small smile.

"Nothing, it just... I saw you and, uh... Dr. Reid looked pretty comfy this morning."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, uh... Were we reading too loud? We've been trying to keep it quieter because we figured it was a bit unconventional—"

"No, no," Emily laughed, thinking to herself how absolutely perfect they were for each other. "I mean... You were really close... Like maybe you're... into him."

"O—oh... Well, I—I don't... Um..."

With another laugh, Emily reached her hand out to reassure her. "I'm not trying to put you on the spot, Y/N, it's just that we've all... noticed how close you guys have gotten over the years and it looked like maybe you two..."

"Oh! Oh, no, uh... We—we're not together or anything, I... He's my best friend. That's all."

By the redness that colored Y/N's cheeks, Emily wasn't buying it one bit. Yet, she indulged her, nodding and patting the little table in front of her before getting up to move to a different section. "If you say so."

She walked away, leaving Y/N with a newfound... tension within her that she couldn't really shake. And it only amplified when Spencer walked onto the jet and took his usual seat next to her.

They greeted each other with small waves, but something felt off. And when his hand brushed up against her leg on accident, she felt a light buzz course through her veins, like some type of switch had been flipped.

It's only because of what Emily said, Y/N thought. She just got in my head, that's all this is.

But the longer the day went on, after landing in Idaho and setting up at the precinct, the buzz only amplified. Every time he said her name, she felt it kick up, and likewise, whenever she said his, he felt the thrum of his chest get heavier.

Everyone could tell, too, though they seemed rather amused by it all. While Y/N and Spencer were out at the ME's office, Emily, JJ, and Derek sat at the table in their temporary office and talked it over.

"I actually feel kinda bad," JJ said. "I mean... It seems like they're just being awkward around each other now..."

"That's not a bad thing... It just means they're finally starting to come to their senses," Emily countered with a wave of her hand. "They'll be fine."

Derek scoffed with a smile. "Yeah, I give it 'til the end of the case. Without work to distract themselves from each other, there's no way they won't say something."

Sure enough, the topics of conversation walked through the door just then, immediately putting distance between themselves on opposite sides of the table. And before anyone could say anything else, Spencer jumped the gun, going into detail on what they discovered about the case.

***

"We won't be heading home until tomorrow morning, so I booked us all rooms at the hotel on main street. I'll give you your keys when we get there. Good work, everyone, get some rest."

Hotch disappeared into the night, leaving the rest of the team to pack up a few things in their office before following him.

Y/N chatted happily with JJ, but deep inside she was nervous. Because everyone had been acting strange all day, pairing her and Spencer up every chance they got, and it was impossible to miss all the fake 'I wasn't looking at you guys' stares into space that they all constantly adorned.

Not to mention the fact that ever since Emily even brought it up to her, Spencer also seemed nervous around her. Their whole dynamic had been thrown off, and now she could barely look at him without immediately looking away and wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Now that the thought has been planted in her head, it's all she can think about, and it's very distracting. And knowing how... interested her friends seem to be in her predicament, the biggest fear she has at the moment is that she and Spencer will be rooming together.

As they got into separate cars and headed to the hotel, she fiddled with her thumbs, picking at the chipped nail polish and hoping that she'll get to rest easy.

And as Hotch handed out room keys in the lobby, she felt her heartbeat pick up, Emily and JJ sharing a key and Derek walking off with his own.

And then he said the one thing she was afraid of, and it almost froze her completely.

"I was only able to get two rooms with double beds, so you guys will have to share, if that's alright."

At that point Y/N would have rather shared a bed with Rossi, because that would have been less awkward. But she and Spencer both nodded, he took the key, and they both silently made their way to the room, keeping their heads low.

Even as they finally stepped into the room the air felt fragile, like one wrong move could break it and send them into space, where there wasn't enough breathable oxygen to keep them alive. And much like in the office today, they kept their distance on opposite sides of the room, separated by the bed.

It was Spencer who broke the silence first.

"I can take the floor if you want..."

The small, sweet way he said it almost made her heart shatter. "O—oh no, you don't have to. That would be silly."

"Are you sure? Because I can—"

"No, it's okay, really. I don't mind."

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, before Y/N's phone buzzed in her pocket, and she turned around to answer the call.

As she walked into the bathroom, answering, "Hi, Mom," before shutting the door, Spencer let out a long breath and rubbed his eyes, wondering how he was going to get through the night. He also wondered if Penelope had talked to Y/N as well, because this awkwardness they were experiencing was most certainly double-sided. And if that was the case, did that mean... she was in love with him, too? Firstly, was he even sure he was in love with her in the first place?

Maybe a little, he decided, thinking back to practically every single moment they've ever spent together. And as he quickly changed into pajamas and situated himself in bed, he thought about what it would be like to kiss her. Is that something he would want to do? Could he see himself kissing her over and over again for the rest of his life?

He had his answer when she walked out of the bathroom, wearing shorts and a tank top, her hair out of its ponytail and cascading down her shoulders as she plopped her phone down on the chair in the corner of the room and walked to the bed.

He tried to look away, but he couldn't. And he was thankful in a way for this newfound uneasy air between them, because she refused to look at him, and it gave him all the clearance he needed to follow her trail around the room.

But when she finally settled into bed, and as he felt her weight dip beside him, Spencer looked down at his lap. He was afraid the close proximity would give him away.

She cracked open a book and read in silence for a few seconds before she turned to him. "Did... Is this distracting? I can stop and we can just go to sleep if you're tired..."

"Oh, n—no, it's not distracting. You're fine. I was, um... I was going to grab a book of my own anyway."

He swung his leg over to get out of bed, but Y/N stopped him. "Well, um... I, uh... I know we're already in the middle of a different book, but if you wanted to, we could, um... read this one together? I—I think you'd like it, it's about the—"

"Sure. I—I'd um... I'd like that. Whatever it's about, I'm sure I'll like it. Y—you know, since you said it was good. You have good taste, so I t—trust your judgement."

He was just rambling now, and hearing Y/N laugh a little, he internally berated himself for letting it get awkward again.

Nevertheless, she opened up the covers to get underneath, and slowly scooted closer to him. Once their knees touched, they both jumped a little, but Spencer cleared his throat and Y/N busied herself by trying to find the first page, neither of them commenting on the obvious shock of butterflies that shot through both of their insides at the tiniest contact.

"Do you mind if I start?" she asked softly, turning her head slightly to the side so she could see him. He nodded, giving her the go ahead, and she turned to the page, focusing on the words in front of her.

Unsurprisingly, it was easy for them to get into a familiar groove. They took turns reading each few pages, and stopped in between to discuss things they'd read. It also wasn't surprising to find that they gradually got closer, their arms and legs now completely touching side by side and their faces dangerously close as they leaned down to read.

Spencer had just finished reading a chapter, reaching out to turn the page, and Y/N seemed to have the same thought, because her hand collided with his in a way that left no room for subtlety, or drawback to avoid that it even happened. Their pinkies interlocked, and Y/N found herself entranced by the curves and peaks of his hand. How each of his fingers slightly twitched at the contact, and how prominent the veins in his forearm were.

Her heartbeat picked up, and his did, too, as he focused on how tightly her pinkie was curling around his own, desperate not to let go.

"Y/N," he whispered. It wasn't a question, nor a warning, but it rolled off his tongue softly as if it was the sweetest word he'd ever had the pleasure to say. It was just one little word, her first name, conveyed with such adoration and obvious pining that he was afraid he'd scared her away.

But she held his pinkie tight, the book resting open beneath them on their adjoined knees, and then looked over at him.

And her eyes held the same weight as her name on his lips.

It was unclear of who moved first, but it happened so fast that surely it didn't matter. In a flash, their lips were joining in soft desperation, and rather than locking pinkies, Y/N shifted her hand to weave all their fingers together. The squeeze he gave her hand made her sigh against his mouth, and it was all the most relieving thing in the world.

After she pulled away, he chased her face for a second, not wanting it to end. But his eyes flew open and when he saw her staring back at him, her lips slightly puffed and her eyes almost hungry, he knew he didn't have to worry about the moment ending any time soon.

The book was long forgotten right then, tossed across the room somewhere as their clothes soon followed.

***

"So, how do you think the love birds got along last night?" Emily asked to no one in particular as the group gathered in the lobby.

Derek snickered. "If they came to their senses, I'm sure they got along just fine."

Everyone laughed at that, just as said love birds made their way to the lobby.

"Sleep well?" JJ asked, obviously trying not to smirk.

"Mhm," they both mumbled in response.

They were going to leave it alone, but that's when Rossi showed up, peering over in Spencer's direction. Then he pointed briefly to his neck. "You got a little something there, genius."

Everyone clapped excitedly, Emily letting out a low whistle and Derek rounding it off with a loud and proud, "Atta boy!"

The redness on both Y/N and Spencer's faces didn't clear up the entire way home.

And after the text that Emily sent out to Penelope, it was looking like it might get even worse.

***

"Welcome home, my beautiful family! Come on, I have something special for everyone in the round-table room."

Penelope led the way, Y/N and Spencer bringing up the rear.

"I'm sorry about this morning," she whispered. "I really didn't even notice I'd made a mark, I—"

"It's okay," he reassured her. "I... I guess they kinda knew we'd get to that point eventually anyway."

"Yeah... I just wish it wouldn't have happened so soon, you know? We're never gonna live this down."

She wasn't expecting him to lace his fingers with hers, and the action made her smile.

They'd fallen a bit behind, so when they finally caught up to everyone in the room, it was terrifying to see them all with knowing, mischievous smiles. And before Y/N could explain, Spencer started speaking.

"Okay, okay, yes. Y/N and I... finally... got together last night. But you can't make it weird, and I'm not going to let you make it weird, because—"

"Ohh, it's a little late for that, boy wonder," Garcia said, giggly and holding out a cake box.

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other briefly before taking a look, immediately gasping and going red.

It was a small cake, shaped like a heart with a red trim of frosting around it. And right in the middle, in pretty red cursive, were the words, "We finally had sex!"

"Penelope!" Y/N whined and shoved her face into Spencer's chest, the heat radiating off her face like a space heater on high blast.

The howling laughter that erupted from everyone else in the room was something neither of them would forget.

But even through the curtain of embarrassment, Y/N and Spencer both knew that beyond it awaited a very promising relationship, especially with friends who supported them. Even if that support manifested in rather... enthusiastic ways.

And, despite the initial embarrassment of it all, the cake tasted pretty damn good.

PERMANENT TAGLIST: 

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes  @s1utformgg @rainsong01  @yourmisosoup

TAGS NOT WORKING: @takeyourleap-of-faith @emilyprentisslittlewhore

If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment, and I’ll add you!

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Yandere Tubbo x Male Reader

Warning: little violence (not that detailed). 

This one is going to be short.

Requested from Pokadeathpony

Backstory: You live in Brighton, England, United Kingdom. (I don’t know where Tubbo lives nor do I know where Tommy lives) One day you were walking to go get some breakfast. Until you bumped into George one of your favorite Minecraft streamers and content creators. You were a small streamer, not that many viewers. You and George began to talk, he later invited you to see the dream SMP world, and you meet the other people of the dream SMP. You then got to meet Tubbo. You thought Tubbo was normal until it took a turn. A big turn. 

Btw you are 17. (Tommy will be turning 17 this year and Tubbo will be 18)

M/N: Male name

Y/T/N: Your Twitch Name.

M/U: Minecraft username

H/C: Hair color

S/C: Skin color

F/D/P: favorite donut place.

Sorry if this is bad.

You were sleeping peacefully until I heard the most annoying sound ever. 

*Beep, beep, beep,* “Ughhhhh.” You were trying to turn it off but you kept missing until you finally got it. ‘Finally got that stupid thing off!’ you thought to yourself. “What time is it?” I looked at the clock. “7:35 am. I might as well get up,” you said to yourself as you slowly got out of bed, stretching your muscles. 

You went to the bathroom to do your business and brush your teeth. After you were done, you grabbed my keys and went to go get breakfast.

As you were walking to go get your daily donuts and coffee, you suddenly bumped into someone causing me to fall. “You okay there?” the voice said, ‘I know that voice!’ you thought to yourself and looked up to see George, George Davidson!!

He handed his hand out, you grabbed his hand. “You alright,” he said, you couldn’t process anything, you just stared at him. You snapped out of your daze. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m a fan of you by the way,” you replied with excitement. 

“Oh? Really?” he said, “Yes! I’m a big fan of yours! I’m actually a streamer just like you,” You replied. “Oh, really what’s your twitch name?” He asked, wondering maybe he’ll check you out. “Oh, Y/T/N!” 

“Okay, maybe check it out later today. Hey, wanna talk and get some food?” you couldn’t say no to that, how many get to eat with their favorite celebrity? “Yes, I would like. Either way, I was going there before I ran into you.” “Alright, let’s go.”

Time skip (You and George went to go eat, and later he checked out your Twitch channel. 3 days later, you got a DM from George saying; “Do you want to tour the Dream SMP world?” and you gladly accepted the offer. And this is where it all began.)

Y/N POV 

I recently got a message from George saying, “Do you want to tour the Dream SMP world?” and you (Or should I say “we”) know I accepted it. He said tomorrow is when it's happening. 

Time skip to tomorrow. 

I woke up earlier than usual, even beat my alarm clock before it could ring. I went to the bathroom and did my usual. George said he will invite me at 10:30 AM. “What time is it now?” I grabbed my phone and checked, “It's 7:10 AM. Will looks like I’m going to have to wait a while.”

Time skip (3 hours and 20 minutes later)

I hopped onto my PC and started it up. After it started, I opened up Minecraft and checked my Notifications. I received the invite I quickly joined in.

Tubbo POV

I was on the Dream SMP world with Tommy, Corpse, George, BBh, and Dream, when an unknown player had joined the game. That shouldn’t be possible since this server is private nobody can join be us.

“Hey who joined?” I questioned. “Oh, I met this small streamer while I was walking to go get breakfast 3 days ago, and I invited them over to give a tour of the place!” George enthusiastically over discord. 

‘Mmm, so they’re a streamer? Maybe I should get to know them.’ 

Time skip (To be honest this one is rushed. It’s currently 1:08 AM where I live and my mind isn’t functioning right now) 

After I introduced myself and the others did, we began to talk about random things. Apparently, M/N is currently streaming right now, and I went to go check it out. 

After I introduced myself and the others did, we began to talk about random things. Apparently, M/N is currently streaming right now, and I went to go check it out. 

M/N has a facecam on, and I get to see what he looks like. He had looked pulchritudinous. Absolutely exquisite. He had soft fluffy H/C hair, his nice S/C, and how his dazzling E/C shine brighter than the sun. I’m going to say it again, he is ravishing.

‘Wait, why am I calling a guy beautiful?’ this boy is triggering something in me. Something I never experienced before. Something in me wants me to protect him at all cost. ‘No stop thinking about that!’ I pushed these unfamiliar thoughts and feeling down.

As time went on my thing for M/N increased. I don’t know why I’m so infatuated with him. Tried ignoring the thoughts and feelings but they keep coming. 

‘Something is coming out of ME.’ 

Time skip ( 2 months after the meeting)

It’s been two months since our little meeting, M/N is officially part of the SMP world. I’ve been binge-watching M/N streams, his YouTube videos, and I also follow him on all his social media accounts, and sometimes I’ll search the internet to find small information. 

I was currently on a website about M/N. it listed all of the information about him since meeting George is grew rapidly on Twitch and YouTube. ‘I already know all of this!’ I thought to myself as I kept scrolling down until I came upon something interesting. 

“M/n current residence in Brighton, England, United Kingdom.” my eyes widen as I read this, ‘He lives close to me!’ I yelled in my mind. 

I was fanboying until I heard my notifications sound. I stopped what I was doing went to go check who it was from. M/N invited me, I immediately accepted it. The world was loading. “Hello!” M/n yelled.   

It was me, M/N, Tommy, and dream on the server. I noticed that Tommy has been getting close to M/n, really close to for my liking. Tommy would sometimes even flirt, this obviously made me jealous for some reason. 

We were minding our own business until “Hey M/n! Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only 10 I see!” that was the most terrible pick-up line I have ever heard. “Oh my God Tommy?! Really?” M/n said but he was Laughing at that. 

This only made me INFURIATED.

M/n POV

I was minding my own business trying to build my home since I joined 2 weeks ago. The only other people on the server were me, tubbo, Tommy, and dream. Anyway, I was nearly done until Tommy said something, “Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the only 10 I see!”

That has to be the most dumbest and funniest pick-up line I heard. “Oh my God Tommy! Really?!” I said while laughing at his attempt at flirting with me. 

Then Tommy went on to say more stupid pick-up line. Some of them were like, “Hey, my name's Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” and “Are you related to Jean-Claude Van Damme? Because Jean-Claude Van Damme you’re sexy!” Just to name a few. 

I noticed that Tubbo hasn’t been talking as much. I wonder what’s wrong with him. I didn’t take note that was going to lead to something atrocious. 

Anyways we still had fun, Tommy kept trying to flirt. “Hey M/n, I was wondering if we could meet up since you know, we both live in Brighton,” Tommy with hope in his voice, hoping you accept his offer. I began to think, ‘Mmm, should I? Or should I not?’

“You know what? Sure. What time do you want to meet?” I accepted his request. “Uhhhhhh, Maybe on Thursday at 5:30. Meeting place F/D/P.” Tommy replied. “Alright! See you there,” I replied.

No One’s POV

Tubbo was fuming with anger as he was listening in on their conversation. ‘No!!!!! I can’t let this happen! I need to do something.’ Tubbo was thinking to himself, but he didn’t notice that M/n and Tommy had stop talking.

“Hey, Toby! Are you okay? You haven’t been talking,” Tommy said with concern. “Yeah, I’m just fine you know!” Tubbo said with venom and anger in his voice. “Wow there calm down, I was just asking. Geez,” Tommy backed knowing that his friend is anger. 

‘Why is he angry? I did nothing wrong!’ Tommy thought to himself, wanting to know what he did. “You know what, I think I’m going to leave,” Tubbo said as he left the game and went offline. 

“What’s his big deal?” M/n questioned. “I don’t know,” Tommy replied, “I gotta go. See ya later M/n!” “Bye Tommy!” Tommy has left the game. 

Meanwhile. 

“I need to find a way to prevent this meetup!” Tubbo said to himself. Then an idea came into mind. An extreme idea. 

New Messages 

Today at 4:23

Toby: Hey, Tommy. Sorry I lashed out at you today.

Delivered at 4:23 

Tommy is tying…

Tommy: it’s alright mate.

Delivered at 4:23

Toby is typing…

Toby: How about we meet up, so I can apologize in person.

Delivered at 4:24

Tommy is typing…

Tommy: today or tomorrow? Cause I have a meeting with M/n. 

Delivered at 4:24

When Tommy mentioned the meeting toby had to act fast. 

Toby is typing…

Toby: today at my place.

Delivered at 4:25

Tommy is typing…

Tommy: sure thing! When exactly?

Delivered at 4:25

Toby is typing…

Toby: 5:30 

Delivered at 4:25

Tommy is typing…

Tommy: Okay, see you at 5:30

Delivered at 4:26

‘And that WILL be the last time you see.’

Time skip (1 hour 4 minutes)

Toby heard his door knocked. Toby went to go open his door, and there he sees his target. “Hey, Toby!” Tommy let himself in. “So where are your parents?” Tommy questioned. 

“Oh, they’re on their anniversary vacation,” Toby answered. “Ohhh, okay. Wanna head to your room?” “Sure I just need to go get something.” “Okay.” 

While Tommy went upstairs, Toby went into the kitchen. He grabbed the knife and slowly began to walk, he hid the knife behind his back. Once he walked into his room, he locked the door and slowly began to approach Tommy. 

“What are you doing Toby?!” Tommy yelled as walked backward, but then he hit the wall. “It was never meant to be.” those would be the last words, Tommy would ever hear as Toby shoved the knife into Tommy’s heart. 

Toby cleaned up the body by putting it into the trash bag along with the knife. He quickly disposed of the body. 

3 days later

Tommy was reported missing by his parents and the police were on the search. M/n was worried. Toby called M/n to do a cooking stream. M/n was suspicious about this cause this came out of nowhere. But in the end, M/n agreed. 

A few hours have passed and M/n arrived at the residence of Toby. m/n knocked on the door waiting for an answer just then the door swung open revealing a smiling Toby. 

“Hey there M/n! Glad that you arrived!” Toby sounded a bit too happy for your liking. “Please come in!” he invited you in. But as you walked, you heard the door close and lock behind you. Just as you turned around you got knocked by a heavy object. 

You slowly began to wake, you noticed that you were tied up. You looked around until your eyes landed on Toby. He had a wicked smile plaster on his face. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked desperately wanting to know why. ‘Did he cause Tommy to go missing?’ You thought to yourself until you hear Toby coming to you. 

“You know, I always reject this feeling inside me. This feeling caused me to love you. Tommy was getting in the way of us being together, he had to be dealt with.”

“You’re a monster! You killed Tommy and you think I’m going to love you?!” this angered Toby but didn’t show it. “You’ll learn to love… cause you’ll be staying here…

Forever…”

[pufflocks]

S.I.F = Aran Ojiro x POC!M!Reader

Walking & Volleyball

》☆《

Summary: believe Aran, when in a relationship, would have separation anxiety. He hates when his partner is not with him when needed are wanted. It's not like he would break down or anything, but he likes it when your close. Same building as him, same radiance etc. So I will be showing that a bit. Enjoy. 💛

Warning: Tooth rot fluff • The Miya twins • proof read

Cast: POC!M!Reader x Aran Ojiro

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Bag ? Check. Phone ? Check. Boyfriend ? Fuck.

"Aran ! Come on, you gonna make us late to practice." You shouted. Your boyfriend was currently trying to look his best, quote unquote, to finally establish your guys' relationship to the team.

While you on the other hand was more excited to finally go back outside since you stayed in on the weekend. His anxiety was a little bad since he had no parents home and was quite frankly bored.

Footsteps could be heard as he marched down the stairs with his phone and bag in each hand.

You looked closer to see a smudge under his eye. "What ? Something on my face ?" He asked. Totally put on your eyeliner, but no time for Q and A.

"Let's go. I'm not trying to be late, AGAIN." That said as you both made your way to school, which you would usually be early if a certain slow ass didn't sleep in. No more stay ins with Aran Ojiro, you thought.

Finally making it 15 minutes later you both were greeted by the Miya twins. Aran left to go put his things away after dapping up Osamu. Hecwould ask you to come with him, but pushed the urge down.

Meanwhile, Atsumu was busy on your head about how you guys were usually early.

"We could have been, but dude wanted to be slow this morning. If we were later, I would easily dump him." You wouldn't as you picked out your hair. { if you have an afro via, your hair out. }

Atsumu doubled over laughing boisterously as his voice echoed. Wait.

Dump ? Atsumu thought.

Two of his bestfriends were dating ? When did this shit happen, he thought again.

"Dump ? You two dating ??" Osamu added in eyeing you down. Not even gonna front, he was kinda let down Aran got to even be that close with you first. But all in all he was majority shocked.

You hummed in agreement to his question as you walked yourself out of the situation to the lockers. It wasn't like you meant to snitch on yourself obviously. But you knew one of them was gonna say something to one of the other team members.

"Almost done. You should get changed too, bae." Aran said, tying his shoelaces.

"The twins know now." You said. You snatched off your shirt pulling on your Jersey over your toned skin.

"'Aight. If they be quiet and don't judge, then I don't care for real." He shrugged giving you a quick kiss on your bicep. His lips are soft, you thought.

"That's what I was thinking. And I know they won't 'cuz I saw Osamu fapping it to a p star, the other day before the weekend." Aran's eyes nearly popped out of his eye sockets as you let out a loud laugh.

"Nah, say sike. He did it in the lockers ?" He asked and you nodded trying to contain your next canned laughter.

You both were giggling like idiots until you heard the whistle blow from the coach. Both of you quickly made work to the door nearly leeping over the other to not be late, again.

After telling the team you both were dating many snarky remarks came from Atsumu, his brother shutting him up.

Kita simply giving you both a thumbs up. Saying you both were still welcome and noth would change on the team.

Suna looked out of it as usual, but he could care less if the only two black guys on the team were dating. { That's how I would picture it and I'm laughing, and no he not racist. 💀 }

Aside from the minimal judgement and tardiness, you went home with an engraved smile on your face. Holding the hand of your profound lover as he swung your hand while on the phone.

The sun setting making both of your skin tones look absolutely perfect and elegant. "Today was nice." You sighed. He squeezed your hand in silent response. Don't think he didn't catch your toothy smile from the corner of his eye, because he did.

"Glad it was alright. I'm feeling good myself." He hummed. The only thing that would suddenly sadden you both was him dropping you off. You weren't far from eachother, but it was a sad routine.

"We can sleep on the phone, bae, stop looking sad." You quietly chuckled squeezing his hand harder than he did.

But that's not what he wanted. "But-"

Before he could finish you stopped and wrapped your arms around his neck. Looking deep in his dark black-ish brown eyes.

Just standing there. Standing there in silence as the sun set. Standing there breathing the cool air around you both. Feeling content with each natural sound.

"We will see each other tomorrow. Trust me. We have been for a long while now." You kissed his forehead as he settled into your touch.

He was such a big baby. No, not even a baby. More like an anxious child with-

"We can get over your separation anxiety together. But now I'm tired. Drop me off and I'll call when I'm in bed."

He nodded and sighed in defeat.

The sun finally set. A dark blue covering the sky.

He dropped you off, trying not to cling too long hugging your upper torso like a lifeline.

Later, like promised, you dialed him and slept on the phone while you almost instantly heard light deep snores on the other end. After speaking about nothing for half an hour of course and how you noticed he wore eyeliner. He has the worst defense to that situation.

Nothing new. . .

[rainbowpacifiers]

Twin Kingdoms (A3! Event story) - Chapter 4

The first day of rehearsals is under way. Some actors struggle more with their portrayals than others. Meanwhile, Haruto contemplates the meaning of continuing work as an actor. 

Chapter 3 | Index | Chapter 5

Reni: We will now begin the read-through. Izumi: (We finally have the first day of rehearsals... The atmosphere is different from usual, so I'm a little nervous.) Haruto: "Father...I am so sorry." Shift: "Where are you going at this hour?" Haruto: "--Why are you here?" Shift: "We have been together since birth. At the very least, I know what you're thinking. Running away won't solve anything." Haruto: "I know that. But my existence creates an idle conflict." Izumi: (Haruto-kun is a little stiff. Shift-kun has grasped Lutz perfectly.) Tasuku: "Tch, that pighead! His brains are fossilising with old age." Azami: "Whatever the circumstances may be, you are going too far, Master Gilbert." Tasuku: "Now while the people are impoverished, it's ridiculous to have a war with North Aria. Neither the high officials nor my father are staring reality in the face." Azami: "It seems we cannot avoid the beginning of a war." Izumi: (Just as you'd expect from Tasuku-san. He does it in a majestic manner. Azami-kun must be a bit nervous because of this atmosphere.)

Reni: ...Hm. With that, we've read through it once. Reni: First, Haruto: I want the spirit you had during the audition. Reni: This might be a read-through, but you're trying too hard to say your lines beautifully. Haruto: --Yes. I'm sorry. Reni: Shift should show the intimacy with Cain. Be more conscious of the fact that you've been by his side as his foster brother since childhood. Shift: O~kay. Reni: Tasuku, the balance between Gilbert's princeliness and his vehemence is good. Keep it up. Tasuku: Yes. Reni: I think it would be better if Izumida's Sasha showed a bit more of his devoted manner in the midst of his hypocritical courtesy. Azami: 'kay. Reni: Do you have anything to add? Izumi: Ah, yes! Erm... Izumi: (Being focused on in the middle of this serious mood is making me nervous too...) Izumi: During the scene when Cain reveals his identity to Gilbert, it weighed on my mind that Cain's feelings weren't really conveyed. Izumi: Because I feel that this is an important scene where the emotions of the two shift, I would like a clearer presentation.  Reni: True, I felt the same way. Haruto, how do you interpret this scene? Haruto: --Eh, erm, this is, that... Reni: What about Tasuku? Tasuku: For Gilbert, I think he may sway between the impression of a prince of an enemy country that he's had for many years and the image of a Cain to whom he felt a sort of closeness. Reni: Hm, that's right. Haruto, think it over a little until the next time. Haruto: --yes. Troupe member A: That's Tasuku-san for you. Troupe member B: He hasn't changed since his time at GOD Troupe. Haruto: .....

Shift: Here is the dressing room of the common room and over there are the changing rooms. Though I think you've been here before. Azami: No, yours is bigger than our theatre, and I wouldn't remember it after one time, so this is a big help. Shift: Well, if you identify even just this area, you shouldn't be in any trouble. Azami: Oh, that's true. Should we get something to eat on the way home? Shift: Ah, today is kind of... Azami: I see. I'll go ahead then. Shift: Okay, see you.

Haruto: ....Sigh. Shift: Haruto-san. Haruto: Uwah! Shift: Your surprise is too extreme. Haruto: Don't just show up out of the blue! Shift: I was standing there for a long time though. Haruto: Your presence is too weak! Shift: There you go again~. Calling the presence of GOD Troupe's top actor weak~. Haruto: Seriously, your self-esteem is too high, it's annoying. Shift: Let's get something to eat. Haruto: Pass. I'm tired; I want to go home early. Shift: If you're going to eat after coming home anyway, we should do it together. A quick meal is fine, so if you wish, let's go to your place to eat together! Haruto: You are the only one I will absolutely not bring home. Shift: Eeeh~, fine, croquette udon then. Haruto: How do you come to that conclusion!?

Haruto: Haah.... Shift: Oh, would you have preferred the kitsune udon? Haruto: That's not it at all. Shift: Today's first rehearsal was fun, wasn't it? Haruto: How. Shift: You know, how Reni-san's instructions have changed too and all. Haruto: Yeah... now, he often asks the actors for their opinions. Shift: What we want to express, how we're interpreting it and such. Shift: It's really fun when a new form is created by combining your own opinion and Reni-san's interpretation. Shift: And he also teaches you what might be good in order to express your own interpretation! Haruto: Although until now, we were required to be something like dolls that were completely devoted in order to embody Reni-san's ideals. Haruto: Now, Reni-san looks like he has fun too. Shift: Are you not having fun, Haruto-san? Haruto: That's not it. It's just that it feels different. Haruto: (Because of the wall so far, I stopped daring to do my own interpretation until the first day.) Haruto: (From now on, I not only have to comply with Reni-san's requests, but will also be asked for my own thoughts...) Haruto: (Precisely because I'm required to do a 180-degree change, the switchover is rather difficult.) Haruto: (Though he, who is like a sponge, just adapts in no time and is enjoying himself.) Shift: Is there something? Haruto: No. Shift: Speaking of different feelings, I'm happy I get to perform with Azami, but it feels weird after all. Shift: Because he's kind of like a relative I've been with since forever, I should say it's sort of embarrassing, I guess? Haruto: The fans will compare us to the actors from their troupe, so absolutely do not let your guard down. Shift: I know that. Shift: But just as I thought, Tasuku-san is amazing. Like, his interpretation and such are perfect. Shift: Reni-san, too, really praised him from day one. Haruto: ——. Shift: We're not going to lose, right? Haruto: That's why I was thinking of returning home early and reading through the script to prepare for tomorrow. Shift: Eh, but your lines already perfect, aren't they? Shift: Isn't it fine if you just believe in the interpretation that simply sprang up in your mind, without reading through the script and thinking it over again and again? Haruto: You--! Haruto: (There are those who can do that without hesitation and those who can't!) Shift: What is it? Haruto: It's nothing! Shift: Weren't you able to do an interpretation of Cain during the audition properly, Haruto-san? Shift: I'm practicing with the image of that Cain with those improvised lines in mind, you know. Haruto: (Back then, my head was full with thoughts of being chosen because I wanted to confront Tasuku one more time.) Haruto: (Also, there was also the envy I felt toward Shift next to me, who did his improvised lines first and without a hitch.) Haruto: (I felt the same thing from Shift, who was discovered by Reni-san just like Tasuku was, as I have felt with Tasuku. Something I can never have myself...) Haruto: (When I took a risk and made lines from those desperate feelings which I noticed in that place, I was able to snatch up the lead role.) Haruto: (And if I think that I shouldn't be excited, it's because of that shameful sight of that first of day of rehearsals.) Haruto: (After all, I...) Haruto: Don't you ever have these moments when you become afraid of continuing as an actor? Shift: Huh? Afraid how? Haruto: Like not attaining success, or suffering setbacks and such. Shift: Hm... well, I am thinking of succeeding as an actor and wanting my family to have an easy life, but if I can't do that, then yeah, I feel scared... Shift: Since I was promoted to a regular troupe member, the stage performance fee and the royalties from the merchandise goods have been steadily increasing, which has helped my household budget. Shift: To be honest, I don't think I'm very worried about the current situation. Haruto: ....so it's like that in your case. Shift: On the contrary, if it's something other than a financial matter for the actor, what else would be the cause for failure? Haruto: ...Something like fear that you might not be the "real thing"? Shift: The "real thing"? Shift: So no one but "really good" people should act?  Haruto: No, that's not it. Haruto: It's just that, as long as you're acting, anyone would think that they probably have real talent and that they want to be acknowledged. Haruto: But the reality isn't like that. If someone is chosen to be the lead, someone else is not. Haruto: There are only a small number of "real deals" that are acknowledged by a lot of people. Haruto: If you know that you're not one of those handfuls, you'd normally become scared, right? Haruto: As a "fake" that will soon be replaced by another actor, should I cling to acting? Or give up on being an actor?... Shift: But if you continue, you might become the real thing one day. Haruto: ——. Haruto: (In any case...you're already one of the people on that side. I can tell by looking at you when you are on stage.) Haruto: (Though it's not like I can say that to your face.) Haruto: (Supposing I can never become the real deal... what would be the meaning of me still continuing with acting?)  Haruto: (Just what am I continuing as an actor for?...) Shift: You will definitely be just fine. I acknowledge you. Haruto: Even if you do... Shift: So let's do our best together from now on too. At the reborn GOD Troupe! Haruto: I'm tellin' ya not to just call us reborn as ya please!

_______________

Chapter 3 | Index | Chapter 5

[nvvermore]

Entr’acte

For the second time, Amaryllis drops everything and steps away from their comfort zone when Beatrice needs a teacher, this time with a very different group of students [@juliandev0rak]

words: 2108

cw: none

—

“What do you think about maybe visiting the school? Maybe… teaching some music lessons?”

“You want me to teach your kids?”

“Well, I’m not asking for you to come to teach full time or anything, but,”

“I’m not very good with children.”

“If you managed to teach me, you’ll have no problem with them!”

“Beatrice.”

“I’m joking! They’re really wonderfully behaved children, I promise. Besides, how bad can you really be if you’re friends with Lucio?”

“You’ve made a good point,” Amaryllis laughs. “What exactly would I teach them? I doubt they need professional-level vocal instruction.”

“You know music! You can sing and play the piano, and probably other instruments too-“

“Guitar. And violin, but only a little.”

“See! You could teach them all about notes, how to play nursery rhymes. It’s mostly about giving them something fun to do, like art class or recess.”

“So you do want me to come in on a regular basis?”

“Well, if you’re a good fit I wouldn’t mind it…”

“Alright then. I’ll come teach.”

“Really?” In her excitement, Beatrice throws her arms around Amaryllis’s neck in a crushing hug. “Oh thank you, Amie!” They return it after a moment, arms wrapping around her middle. When they part, there’s the loveliest pink flush to her cheeks, their faces only inches apart. Reluctantly, Amaryllis breaks away from her embrace.

“I am a little busy with the masquerade approaching, but I can make time.”

“Tomorrow?” Beatrice suggests quickly.

“Tomorrow, hm? You don’t already have lesson plans for the day?”

“Ah, well-“

“You knew I’d say yes.”

“I was right.”

- - -

And that was how Amaryllis ended at the old coliseum turned schoolhouse, with carefully crafted lesson plans in hand. They had even gone out of their way to dress in the most modest and brightest dress they had in their wardrobe, along with simple pumps and opaque tights.

Once Amaryllis was standing before the doors, dressed in spring green, the gravity of how fully head-over-heels they had fallen for Beatrice dawned on them. In their right, not lovesick mind, they would never willingly venture out in such a manner. They’d even completely forgone their veil for the afternoon— it was hardly necessary to do so, but Amaryllis was dead set on being a good example.

On the other side of the doors, it seemed Beatrice had been waiting for them. Seated on a nearby bench with her nose in a book, it was the same way she’d often wait for them before their lessons together. There was nothing out of the ordinary or new about the sight of her, but Amaryllis still found themself stopping to take her in. Leaning against the wall, they watched the way her lips moved as she read, how focused she was as her eyes flit across the pages.

Soon enough, the moment passes when Beatrice finally takes note of them.“Amie!” she jumps into her feet, and Amaryllis notices the way her expression drops into surprise for a split-second. Then, she proceeds to unabashedly look them up and down, grin returning to her lips when her eyes meet theirs. “You have perfect timing! The children should be just getting back from recess. Come, I’ll show you around.”

Without warning, Beatrice takes their hand, and Amaryllis has to stop themself from giving into the urge to intertwine their fingers with hers.

Beatrice leads them through the halls, enthusiastically pointing out various classrooms and other school facilities. She tells them all about what she’s already been able to do with the school and her goals for the future. Amaryllis drinks up every word, and the passion she has for her students makes them fall a little bit more in love with her.

They make a mental note to see to it that a little bit more of their salary is directed to the school— discreetly through Nadia, lumped in with what she already uses to fund Vesuvia’s public education.

“And this is my classroom!” Beatrice pulls them into a room with rows of little desks decorated in little messes of papers and books. Amaryllis looks around the modest room, in awe at all the carefully-crafted decor she had put up all over the walls. Posters and signs that must have taken her hours and hours to make.

There was the common alphabet drawn out all the way across the front wall above the chalkboard. Large and colorful drawings acting as helpful reminders of numbers, shapes, days of the week, and months of the year. Not all of it was purely educational; messages of inspiration were all over, encouragement just a glance away for any child who needed it. Even each desk had a carefully handwritten tag spelling out each child's first and last name.

Amaryllis realizes they must have looked around the room a little too long, because when they glance back to Beatrice, she’s fiddling with her the clasp of her cloak. The instinct to assure her overcomes them, and they reach out and place their hands over hers

“Beatrice, this is lovely. I can tell you truly love your work.”

She looks hesitant for a moment, as though she might brush the complement off, but smiles after a moment. “Thank you, Amie. I really do love it.”

Amaryllis quickly squeezes her hands before taking them back. “I hope I can meet your high standards.”

“If I had any doubts, I wouldn’t have asked you,” she opens her mouth like she has more to say, but then tiny voices and giggles sound from the hallway. Something in her composure shifts then, and in a second she goes from their Beatrice to the student’s Beatrice.

Greeting each child with a warm smile as they file into the room, not an ounce of hesitance or nervousness. Amaryllis can’t take their eyes off of her, wants to take in all of her radiance that comes with her moments of total confidence. That beautiful smile of hers is then turned on them, and class is ready to begin.

“Settle in everyone! This afternoon we have a very special guest!” Beatrice addresses the class animatedly. She steps back, gesturing for Amaryllis to step up. It almost feels like they’ve somehow switched places with each other; Beatrice has all of the certainty and Amaryllis is full of worry. But they would do this, and do it well, for her, and for these children.

“Hello, you can call me Amie,” they introduce themself with the nickname instead, as their name could be difficult to pronounce for ones so young. “Together, we’re going to learn all about music!” Amaryllis glances to Beatrice, who watches them with a soft expression, and in turn she gives an encouraging nod. “For today’s lesson, I’m going to show you how to write your very own song!”

- - -

The lesson had run wonderfully, much to Amaryllis’s surprise. The class was a modestly-sized one, and all in attendance were very eager to learn. They’d begun with the very basics of treble clef, explaining the lettering and telling them the silly acronyms to assist in remembering. As the children demonstrated they were catching on to their teachings, Amaryllis shed their hesitance.

In the end, they were able to assist each student in writing out their own little two-measure song. None of them really knew they were writing, but Amaryllis could hear each little song as they went over it with Beatrice’s students. Some of them put the same note down eight times, some of them followed the alphabet, some of them randomly placed notes on the staff. It was sweet, to see each child’s method of creating.

Amaryllis’s plan was for Beatrice to hold on to what they’d written, because next time they would teach them how to sing their songs. Each child was already so proud of what they’d accomplished, and Amaryllis was truly looking forward to showing them how it sounded.

Once their lesson was concluded, it was time to wrap up for the day. Amaryllis stood back once again to let Beatrice take back over, and meanwhile they made themself at home in her desk chair. When the students finally were dismissed, Amaryllis did not expect for several of them to flock around them.

One little girl told them how pretty their hair was; another told them that he thought their scar was so cool. A little boy explained very thoroughly that he’d been taking piano lessons since he was very little. It took a few more minutes of questioning and stories and several promises that they would return next week for everyone to clear out.

Beatrice saw the last little straggler out of the door and closed it behind her. “‘Bad with children’, hm?” She was beaming again, surely pleased to have something to call them on.

“I may have lied,” Amaryllis admits. Beatrice raises a brow in questioning, settling down onto her desk in front of them. “It’s just, I don’t tend to be the best influence.”

“Amie, that’s not true,” she reaches forward to take their hand, “you were just actively being a positive influence for the past two hours.”

“I tried my very best, abeille.” ‘I tried my very best for you’, goes unsaid.

“I think you did wonderful! Even I learned things I didn’t know before.”

“Then I must not be doing enough in our private lessons.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I’m simply teasing you.” Amaryllis rests their clasped hands against Beatrice’s knee. She isn’t sitting as ‘lady-like’ as she typically tends to, her legs remain uncrossed and knees apart. Her long skirts cover her all the way down to the ankle, perfectly decent, though Amaryllis’s thoughts about their current positions are anything but. Slipping their hands under said skirts, the feel of her skin under their fingers as they push the fabric up and— now was not the time or place to fantasize about her.

“You know, I meant to say,” she glances away when Amaryllis’s eyes meet hers, cheeks rosy. “You look, different.”

“I know, it’s atrocious, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely not!” Beatrice bites her lip, before continuing. “I think you look just as lovely like this,” she rushes to add, “and it’s nice to see your face. Outside of the rehearsal room. In public. That probably sounds a little odd-“

Amaryllis’s breath falters. “It doesn’t.”

“Oh, good, then.” Beatrice’s free hand picks at the surface of the desk. “Then is there a reason you didn’t wear your veil today? I’ve noticed you don’t usually go anywhere outside the palace without it.”

“It’s part of my effort to not be a poor influence,” they explain. “Little ones are so impressionable, it wouldn’t do to cover up like I’m ashamed.”

“Are you?” she blurts out, looking instantly regretful. Amaryllis doesn’t talk about these things, they never do. But with Beatrice, they feel safe enough to forgo many of their masks.

“Rationally, I know there isn’t anything to be ashamed about. But it’s,” they take a deep breath, “difficult when someone once put in a lot of effort into making you think that way. You never know who else will treat you that same way. So, I prefer to have a shield.”

“You’ve never worn it when it was just us.”

“Because I know you’d never make me feel ashamed.”

“Amie, I—“ Beatrice is cut off by a knock on the door that makes them both jump. She releases their hand, sliding off of the desk to let the interloper in. Simply a concerned parent who’s come to speak with his child’s teacher. Amaryllis takes it as their cue to excuse themself.

“I’m quite busy with preparations, so I’m afraid I might not see you again until the masquerade.”

“It’s only a few days away, and I’ll be sure to practice extra hard in place of our missed lesson.”

“Not too hard. We don’t want a repeat of the last time you strained yourself.” Though truthfully, Amaryllis wouldn’t mind bringing her tea again, or taking care of her, settling on her comfy little couch to snuggle up.

Beatrice throws her hands up dramatically. “I won’t practice that much, I promise!”

“Good girl,” they take her hand, relishing in her flustered face, “until we meet again.” Amaryllis places a kiss on the back of her hand, leaving behind a deep red stain. With a respectful nod to the waiting father, they step back out into the hall.

Normally, Amaryllis loved work. It kept them busy, kept them distracted. But they were already distracted by something other than work, and they had a feeling the next few days would be agonizing without a moment of Beatrice’s company.

[angel-tries-to-write]

Rules are meant to be broken

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: General Pairing: Levi Ackerman & Hanji Zoë Word count: 3163 Genre: fluff, humor

When Hanji is forced to conform to gender roles, their friends stand up for them and it’s wholesome.

Non-binary afab Hanji, one (1) swear word.

This day seemed to be a regular and boring one. First year students were going to their club meeting and they didn't expect anything interesting to happen. But when they entered the Survey Club room, they saw a very strange view. Hanji, being their dramatic self, had upper part of their body completely sprawled on table, with Moblit, Miche and Nanaba sitting next to them, clearly trying to cheer them up. But the weird part was that by their opposite side was Levi with his hand caressing Hanji's back. Mr. Erwin Smith was observing them, visibly upset, thinking about something intensively.

“What happened?” Jean asked, as he was the first to snap out of the shock that this very uncommon incident induced.

“As you may know, we have this holiday event and a very important inspection tomorrow. Everyone has to be dressed in very formal clothes” Petra explained, she was very concerned and sad.

“We know, but is that a tragedy?”

“I can't wear a suit” Hanji said with a slightly muffled voice.

“So?”

“I'll have to wear a fucking dress, and you even dare to ask?!” they snapped, looking at Jean angrily. Not that they saw much with their glasses pushed up their head, but they didn't even want to see him.

“Hanji, there's no need to use such language” Mr. Smith reproached them.

“Excuse me, Hanji-senpai, but what's wrong with that?” Eren asked, not really understanding the problem.

“Oh, nothing. If you like dresses” the older student was really upset about this situation.

“I don't think I follow...” Sasha spoke, actually trying to understand that.

“Me too” Connie nodded, agreeing with her.

“Tch, isn't it obvious, you stupid brats?” Levi looked at them with a cold stare. “Dresses are formal clothes assigned to girls, while suits are for boys. But this idiot school rules don't allow any other option” he said. It was obvious that he was furious about it, even if he seemed stoic at first sight.

“So, the problem is that Hanji-senpai is forced to wear a dress even though they are not a girl, because school rules are stupid?” Armin summed up to avoid further confusion.

“Precisely” Mr. Smith nodded. “And unfortunately, there is not much we can do about that.”

“There is something.”

“No, Levi, violence is not an option.”

“Tch. Violence is always an option.”

“I understand that you are upset, but you can't change the whole school on your own.”

“Watch me. Only I can hurt that stupid four-eyes.”

“That's actually cute, thank you Levi” Hanji smiled weakly at him. “Even though you've never actually hurt me.”

“Aw, Levi, you actually care about them” Nanaba teased and he shot her a death glare she ignored.

“I don't. Why would I?”

“You've said it already, there's no point trying to take that back.”

“He doesn't like to be obvious. You know expressing feelings isn't really his thing” Hanji explained. “But I know he does care and he knows I do care too. We're best friends, after all.”

“That's so sweet” Petra smiled.

“Can we focus on our problem?” Levi asked with irritation, just like Hanji said, he didn't like to be obvious about his feelings.

Meanwhile Mikasa, who had no interest in their conversations and relationships, pulled Sasha, Christa and Ymir aside. She had a plan. The girls didn't need much convincing to agree with her.

“Hanji-senpai” Mikasa spoke, it was unique of her to talk to anyone but Eren or Armin, so every head turned at her. “Please, wear your suit tomorrow and be as elegant as you can.”

“Do you have any plan?” Hanji was actually interested and fixed their glasses to properly look at the younger girl. “But do you realize it's against the rules?”

“Rules are meant to be broken” Ymir shrugged.

“Nothing is meant to be broken” Oluo scoffed, miraculously not biting his tongue.

“What about glowsticks?” Armin asked.

“Spaghetti if you have a small pot?” Sasha added.

“Karate boards?” Eren suggested.

“And rules” Ymir was more than happy to prove her point. Oluo wanted to comment it, but before he could form a coherent word, he bit his tongue.

“You'd better be quiet” Petra sighed with annoyance. “I can't wait for the day when you finally bite your tongue off.”

“My, my, love is in the air in Survey Corps” Nanaba teased again, observing the red headed girl.

“L-love? Nanaba-senpai, this is not—” she tried to protest, her cheeks blushed.

“Isn't it? Well, I see a pattern here” Nana looked at Levi and Hanji, then at Oluo and Petra and smirked.

“B-but...”

“Stop arguing, you only prove her point” Levi interrupted her, before she could embarrass herself. “The best strategy is to ignore her and pretend nothing happened.”

“I never said anything happened.”

“But you thought that. You and Miche are doing it since you joined us, I just know what you've thought” he pointed out, the mentioned couple only shrugged in response.

“Alright, kids, I guess under current circumstances we can tell that we are not able to have a proper club meeting today. I guess we can go home then” Erwin said and no one protested. They all had too much to think about.

The next day Hanji was extremely nervous. With Levi's help, they looked absolutely amazing, in a perfect suit, with clean and brushed hair, neatly pinned in an elegant updo, and polished glasses, they didn't look like their usual mad scientist persona. They were pacing nervously, waiting for younger girls, just like they told them the previous day.

“Oi, calm down, four-eyes, would you? That pacing drives me insane” Levi spoke finally.

“Sorry, I'm just really nervous!”

“I said stop” he approached them and grabbed their forearms, firm enough to make them stop, but careful enough to not wrinkle the jacket. “It will be fine” he said calmly, looking in their eyes. Hanji blinked a few times and sighed.

“You are probably right” they admitted. Corners of Levi's mouth moved a little and Hanji knew it was his smile. His stoic composure helped them calm down a little. Just when he let go of them, the younger students appeared, all wearing the best suits. When Hanji saw them, they blinked with confusion. Eren, Armin, Jean and Connie, as well as Mikasa, Sasha, Christa and Ymir all wore suits, and looked very elegant. Even a very girly and cute Christa, who wore dresses and skirts all the time, look very good with her hair braided in a pretty updo, they could even say she looked noble.

“Hanji-senpai, you look absolutely awesome” Sasha smiled, munching on bread sticks.

“B-but... You do realize, you're going to get in trouble?” Hanji asked, they were both deeply moved by their sacrifice and terrified of their potential punishment.

“They won't take us all” someone from the other side spoke and they turned around to see Nanaba, Petra, Ilse Langnar, Rico Brzenska, Annie Leonhart, even Hitch Dreyse as well as some more girls, all wearing suits. Hanji felt tears filling their eyes.

“You all did it for me?” they asked and their voice cracked with emotions.

“For you and to fight systemic oppression. We can't allow rules to limit our freedom. I already provided the article about it, we are supposed to look elegant, so we do. Who cares that we don't meet gender norms” Ilse answered with a smile.

“Thank you. All of you. It means a lot.”

“It was all Mikasa's idea, but we couldn't disagree with her” Petra praised the younger girl. Hanji turned around to Mikasa, who wasn't wearing her red scarf, as it wasn't particularly elegant after all those years.

“I did what had to be done” she said. Hanji said nothing, just approached her and hugged her, trying not to cry.

“Alright, let's go and ruin that stupid school!” Nana punched the air with her fist.

“Yes!” Eren definitely shared her excitement.

“Maybe not literally” Hitch reminded them, after all she still was a part of student's council. Everyone entered the school and proceeded to have their day.

They didn't have to wait long for the results of their actions. The teachers' reactions were mixed, some of them were horrified, some were quietly proud, and most of them didn't care, but they all at least tried to act like nothing happened. Yet the moment finally came and all the girls wearing suits, including Hanji, were called to principal Darius Zackly's office.

“What is the meaning of this? Don't school rules mean anything to you? Explain yourselves!” Mr. Nile Dawk demanded, he was clearly stressed out and he looked like he was going to have a seizure.

“Calm down, Nile, there's no need to yell” Mr. Erwin Smith rebuked him calmly.

“We were supposed to dress up formally and so we did. There is nothing wrong with our outfits” Mikasa answered with her usual unbothered expression.

“I don't see anything wrong either. These students look as elegant as they are supposed to” Mr. Smith agreed.

“But they wear clothes assigned for boys!” Mr. Kitz Woermann yelled and the blond teacher looked at him carefully, before speaking.

“Clothes have no gender” he stated.

“Unfortunately the school rules are clear about what the students are supposed to wear” principal Zackly fixed his glasses.

“Maybe this is the time to change the rules?”

“Are you seriously suggesting changing years of tradition just become some students can't keep up with it?” Mr. Dawk was getting angrier, but Mr. Smith was not easy to be provoked.

“If they can't, maybe there is a bigger problem? Look at all those students, this is not a single case. And there's more of them, this is a group protest. So maybe we should consider that it's time to change what isn't working anymore. Traditions are supposed to guide us, not limit our growth.”

“You are saying there is more students supporting this idea?” principal Zackly caressed his beard and looked at Erwin with curiosity.

“Of course” the teacher nodded and opened the door. A rather large group of boys entered the room and gave the traditional salute.

“Principal Zackly, with all respect, if you want to punish them, you would have to punish us as well!” Eren declared and no one disagreed with him, because for the first time he wasn't talking what seemed nonsense.

“Eren Jäger. I should have known it was you who stands behind all of this” Mr. Woermann clenched his fist in anger.

“Eren has nothing to do with that. It was my idea. Mine and no one else's” Mikasa said firmly.

“It doesn't matter whose idea it was” Mr. Keith Shadis spoke for the first time since this meeting started. “We should decide what to do now.”

“So you all agree with Mr. Smith and all this... protest?” the principal asked the boys, who all nodded in confirmation. “Very well. Then let's do this: since you claim clothes have no gender, then tomorrow you all come to school in dresses and no one will be punished, also we will change the school rules. Does that sound fair?” he proposed and the boys' confidence visibly lowered.

“It does. We are up to challenge” Levi said with his usual poker face, though his gritted teeth and slightly furrowed brows were giving away his determination and anger.

“Very well. You are dismissed” he decided and the students left the teachers to deal with any disagreements on their own.

“How did we get into this?” Jean ran his fingers through his hair.

“We can't do that” Reiner protested.

“We have to. Remember why are we doing it: for our friends. All the girls decided to risk getting in trouble for today, yet they did it, because it was the right thing to do. Now it's our turn, are we going to be little cowards or can we face it like men?” Armin reminded them, his speech raised their morale a little. He knew he was right and his friends knew it too. Besides he wore girly outfit before and he knew it was nothing bad.

“You don't have to do that. None of you had to” Hanji spoke quietly, they felt overwhelming guilt about everything that happened. “I'm sorry for making this much trouble, I should never have said anything, I should have acted like it wasn't a big deal” they pushed their glasses on their head and rubbed their eyes.

“Shut up, four-eyes. You have the right to be yourself and no one can tell you otherwise. At this point it's not even about you anymore. They want a war. So I can gladly provide one” Levi growled and only Hanji knew how much affection he had just expressed in this angry statement. “If they think a piece of clothing is going to ruin our confidence, they're so wrong.”

“Alright then, if Levi-senpai can do that, I guess we all can” Oluo shrugged. He looked at Petra and for the first time he saw admiration in her eyes. It was definitely worth doing it then.

“Thank you. It means a lot to us” Christa smiled sweetly.

“You will thank us tomorrow, when we prove our point to the teachers” said Levi.

The next day however, they were even less sure if it was worth doing. Even during the road to school, everyone was unusually quiet.

“Eren? Are you alright?” Mikasa asked shyly, when they met with their friends, only Armin and Connie didn't seem to have much against their clothes. “You know you didn't have to do this, right?”

“You think I could back out like a coward after you have fought so bravely for Hanji and for the right cause? To admit the teachers were right, that wearing this dress, this meaningless piece of clothing can shatter my manliness and hurt my pride to the point I choose to spare myself embarrassing and abandon my friends in need? I thought you know me better than that” he looked at her and she gave him one of her most beautiful smiles.

“Yeah, when I told my mom about it, I was sure she was going to slap me or even disown. But she suddenly started crying and said she's proud of me for being willing to sacrifice myself for my friends. And I guess it made me feel better” Jean confessed and Mikasa looked at him.

“You can be annoying, but this is very mature of you. I really appreciate that you didn't back out. Thank you” she said and he suddenly blushed, clearly not being used to such kind words.

When they arrived to school, they were very relieved to see that they weren't the only ones who wore dresses just like they were supposed to. They could see Petra chatting with Oluo, Gunther and Eld; Marco talking to Ilse; Reiner, Bertholdt and Annie, trying to act like they didn't exist; Hitch, who at once wasn't making fun of Marlowe; Franz and Hanna lost in their own world; even Rico, who usually wore her sport suit, was wearing a dress, just like her friend Ian, they were looking at the walls and seemed to lament they won't be cleaned today too. Finally, the first year students saw the core of Survey Club: Moblit was reading a book, Miche and Nanaba were chatting about something quite cheerfully, all not bothered by their outfits at all, while the other couple was just their usual self, excited Hanji and grumpy Levi. And whoever saw them, simply couldn't not stare. Hanji had their hair down, it was messy and fluffy, because of its cut, but the way it fell around their face was really bringing out their beauty. Hanji was never considered casually beautiful, but now everyone could see how terribly wrong they were: Hanji was gorgeous and they didn't even put any effort to look like this. All it took was to loosen their hair and put a dress on, and suddenly everyone was aware of their beauty. And Levi... this guy was incredible, he had his usual grumpy expression, but even in a dress he looked absolutely amazing. These two totally rocked in those outfits and everyone was staring at them either with adoration or jealousy. Their obvious confidence and radiating boss energy was very helpful for everyone who felt down about their clothes.

That was until Mr. Erwin Smith joined them and absolutely stole the spotlight. He was wearing his usual shirt and tie, but instead of pants, he had a skirt. And he wore it with so much confidence that he looked awesome.

“Even you had to do that, sir?” Sasha asked when the young group approached them and the teacher just smiled.

“I didn't have to. I decided to, because I realized that if I was defending you so strongly, I could set a good example myself” he explained. The students looked at him, very impressed. He didn't have to unite with them, yet he chose to and he wasn't ashamed at all. “It was not an easy decision, but I knew you were going to need support in this difficult day. So here I am.”

“Mr. Smith, you are the best!” Connie exclaimed and no one could disagree with him.

The rest of the day was very challenging. Boys were not used to wearing dresses at all, but luckily every one of them had girls who were experts in preventing any wardrobe malfunction. They were also ready to protect their friends from any bullies, and unfortunately they had plenty opportunities. But it was worth it, at the end of the day, principal Zackley informed them, that he didn't believe they could do that, yet they did. And deal was deal, the school rules were going to officially be changed. It was the moment Hanji couldn't take it anymore and they just started crying.

“Stop it, four-eyes” Levi said gently.

“I'm sorry, I just... I'm so happy and I can't believe it's real” they laughed through tears and pushed their glasses up, so they could wipe their eyes. Suddenly they pulled their friend in a tight hug. “Thank you, Levi. Thank you for everything” they sobbed.

“There, there. Don't you dare to ruin my dress” he warned them, but put a hand in their hair and caressed it softly. He actually couldn't care less about his clothes as long as Hanji was comfortable. They pulled away after a moment, smiling sheepishly. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you, Levi.”

“You're welcome.”

The next day everything went back to normal. Well, almost everything, because those two days definitely strengthened relationships. There was more understanding and affection in all friendships, and the taste of success really made everyone more confident. Some teachers weren't happy about it, but they didn't have much choice than to accept their loss. Even more, when a couple of days later, principal Zackly got a report that the results of the inspection are very positive and the school is doing just fine...

[stxrrywildflower]

reaper

pairing - spencer reid x reader

warning - blood, gunshots, stab wounds, injury in general

summary - both you and hotch are attacked by the reaper

word count - ?

signing, you stepped out of the car and followed hotch into his home. you had agreed to stay and watch jack when he was dropped off in an hour or so. hotch, meanwhile, was getting some stuff from home before going back to the office. you would meet him and the rest of the team back there tomorrow morning.

you dropped your bag on the couch and took a seat. you had been in the older agents home before, mostly to babysit but also for team dinners. this time was no different.

“do you want something to drink?” hotch offered.

you pondered for a quick moment. “coffee if possible,” you replied with a smile. hotch nodded before moving down the hallway and what you thought was into the kitchen. you sighed and pulled out the case files on the reaper out of your bag.

you were deep in thought about the case as a whole when you heard a gunshot down the hallway. within seconds, you were on your feet, gun drawn. as you moved down the hallway, clearing each room, you heard the voice of a man other than hotch and what soon was a sharp gasp.

after hearing that, you took off running and pushed open the door to the other living room. “don’t move,” you practically growled after seeing none other than george foyet standing over hotch. your eyes quickly flicked down to hotch who was unconscious with stab wounds in his chest.

“welcome agent y/n, i didn’t know you were here!” foyet exclaimed, a little too excited to see you.

it all happened so fast. one second you were taking part in a stand off with the reaper. the next you felt nothing but pain. three initial gunshots sounded, all going straight into your abdomen.

you were barely conscious when hotch had woken up. he managed to roll his head over, only to see the reaper now standing over you. the reaper then re-loaded his gun and shot you twice more, one in each leg. then came the knife. he traced cuts down your arms and upper chest area before going back over to hotch.

a conversation was had before the reaper began his own form of torture to hotch himself. close to an hour later, both you and hotch were thrown into a car and driven to the hospital.

the following day, the rest of the team, still unaware of your and hotch’s whereabouts were currently unknown, were tracking down patrick meyers. the case was fairly quickly and thankfully no one was hurt.

reid stood up after shaking off the dirt he had gotten from tackling tom barton to the ground. emily and morgan immediately ran over to the young agent checking his condition.

“we need to get to the hospital. i think something’s happened to hotch. rossi and j.j. are making the calls,” reid revealed.

“where’s y/n then?” emily asked.

spencer’s face visibly paled. “she was supposed to babysit jack last night. her and hotch rode home together last night.”

emily and morgan exchanged a look. morgan wrapped his arm around reid’s shoulder and led him to the car. the suv quickly pulled out of the street and took off to the hospital where hotch was held.

rushing in, they immediately found a nurse at the front desk. “we’re looking for agent aaron hotchner,” emily spoke. while the nurse was typing, j.j. and rossi walked in.

“ah yes, aaron hotchner just completed surgery and is currently in the icu resting. there’s no details in the system yet but if you go to the fifth floor and the nurse at that floor can get you a doctor to give you the details.”

the team sighed a breath of relief. “i need another names checked. y/n y/l/n. she’s also a federal agent but none of us have heard anything about her,” this time morgan said. reid tapped his fingers anxiously on the counter.

the nurses face shifted slightly. it wasn’t extremely noticable but for a group of profilers, it was everything.

“agent y/n has been in surgery since both her and agent hotchner arrived this morning. we haven’t gotten any updates in the system at all due to the severity of her injuries which is why we haven’t been able to update you,” the nurse quickly exclaimed.

reid quickly mumbled something about needing air and took off, walking quickly out of the hospital. the teams faces shifted with sympathy.

“that doesn’t make sense. the only one the reaper had a strong emotional connection with was hotch. why is she worse than him?” emily asked.

“we need to get to hotch’s place. j.j. find reid and stay here. talk to hotch and keep us updated on y/n,” rossi ordered.

from there the team went in separate directions. from there they realized that the reaper had called jessica and informed her that you would not be able to babysit. the blood on the floor nearly made them sick. the gunshot in the wall as aimed at hotch who was then tackled and stabbed. you had interupted them which is why the reaper took out his rage on you.

reid sat practically shaking outside of hotch’s room. j.j. has managed to coax your injury information out of a nurse. she had told reid in a soft voice that you had been shot three times in the stomach, twice in your legs, and then severely cut open. spencer had shook his head and accepted j.j.’s hug after he began to softly cry.

the team had re-grouped back at the hospital. everyone had realized that the case was going nowhere and wanted to focus on your and hotch’s health.

the next morning, hotch woke up. he immediately tried to get out of bed. rossi and morgan had both pushed him down.

“where’s y/n? she was in the house with me when foyet attacked. he shot her,” hotch rushed out. “she’s was in surgery all of yesterday. she’s currently recovering. nurses aren’t sure when she’s going to wake up,” rossi informed him, making hotch groan.

“and reid?”

“he’s not great. j.j. and garcia sitting outside of y/n’s room with him now. but i don’t blame him. none of us let him go to your house after we found out you were in the hospital but hotch, there was so much blood,” morgan revealed.

“find him,” was all hotch replies before leaning back on his pillow.

nearly four days later, you woke up. it was late at night, past visiting hours. when you tried to move, all you were met with was pain. you couldn’t move at all, not even to hit the button to alert the nurse. so, you decided to try yelling.

“hello?” you called out but unsprisingly your voice was extremely raspy. knowing it was no use, you stopped trying and went back to your own thoughts. suddenly, the events of the past week flooded into your mind. foyet, being shot, being tortured, seeing hotch nearly dead, not knowing how the team was, spencer. that last one lingered in your mind longer.

those thoughts caused your heart rate to spike rapidly. suddenly both a doctor and a nurse rushed into the room, panicked expressions on both of their faces. however, they relaxed when they realized you were awake.

“where’s hotch,” you spoke, voice still extremely raspy. you knew it was no use to ask for spencer, the doctors had no clue who he was.

“relax agent y/n. you have sustained very serious and critical injuries. agent hotchner is still recovering just a few doors down. in the morning we can bring him in,” the doctor informed you as the nurse went to change your iv and bring you water.

“my team?” you asked.

“have been here every single day from the beginning of visiting hours until the end. i’m sure today will be no different. between you and me, i’ll try and pull a couple strings to get agent hotchner in here before they arrive.”

you shut your eyes again. in just a few hours you would be able to see your team, and you couldn’t wait.

___

hotch woke up from his nights sleep around 6:30. despite being in a hospital, nothing had changed from his normal routine. his normal nurse walked into the room, did the daily checkup and asked him how he was feeling to which he replied ‘good’.

“by the way, agent y/n is awake if you would like to go see her,” the nurse informed him. after agreeing, hotch was then moved into a wheelchair and escorted down the hallway and into your room.

you glanced over after seeing your boss rolled into the room. “hey hotch,” you whispered with a slight smile. his grimace at your injuries didn’t go unnoticed. “y/n, i’m glad your okay. how are you feeling?” he asked, keeping his tone calm.

“not great but the reapers a bitch. the team should be arriving within the next 10 minutes. i’m sure they’ll be happy to see you,” you replied.

hotch let out a light chuckle. “i’m sure they’ll be much more interested in you. from what i’ve gathered, garcia has researched different recipes that you can actually eat. i’m pretty sure it’s soft and liquid food only. emily and j.j. have missed your ‘girl talk’,” hotch made sure to put air quotes around it as he said it, “derek and rossi have already transformed reid’s apartment, where you will be staying, into a much safer environment.”

“what about spencer?” you desperately asked. hotch smiled at that. “i mean he’s a mess, especially when he found out about you according to morgan. but i’m sure he’ll be absolutely ecstatic to see you.”

you went to reply and start another conversation but faint voices down the hall stopped you. “teams here,” you told hotch. “i’ll have the nurse bring me out to greet them. spencer can come see you first, figure we can give you two some alone time. then the rest of the team can come in. sound good?” you nodded to hotch’s words before a nurse rolled him out of a room.

a few moments later, the door opened again to reveal none other than your boyfriend. “y/n” he breathed out. “hey spencer,” you replied practically grinning. he cautiously moved to your bedside. “hug?” you whispered. spencer carefully reached down, wrapping his arms around you. once pulling away, he sat at your bedside, still holding your hand.

“i’m really glad your okay,” spencer spoke. “i’m really glad i’m okay too. didn’t know one man could have so much rage for someone simply interfering,” you joked. after talking for a few more minutes, you were ready for the rest of the team to come in.

hotch came first, his wheelchair was placing in the corner of the room. then can everyone else, all displaying bright smiles. you glanced around at each member of your team, more like family, and couldn’t help but smile back at them. you and hotch were safe and surrounded by the people that loved you the most.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-One, “Finally”

*Gifs are not mine*

Clickable Links:

- *NEW* Becky Magazine Cover from an O.C. Tag Challenge c:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Warnings: None

Word Count: 10.3k words

Song:  You’re Still The One by Shania Twain, bc duh Just Like Heaven by The Cure (click to listen)

A/N: I am SO excited for you to read this chapter, you’ll soon find out why ;)

                                 SNEAKYYYYYY PEEEEEK

For the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

"And then my soul saw you and it kind of went ‘Oh, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.’"

                             - Iain Thomas, ‘I Wrote This For You’

There was truly nothing that could rock the waves I was currently riding, and I couldn’t wait a second longer to do the very thing that would make them even bigger. They had only climbed since telling Asher earlier this evening, and the smile that shared on our faces. 

Skye was sprawled out on the sofa when I opened the door, finding it impossible to hide the grin on my face as I read a text from Harry that had dinged a moment before. 

i havent been this excited for somethin in a long time bug. absolutely cant wait to see u on friday, idk if i can wait that long ;) good luck on ur case with Myles 2moro, you’ll do great Becks xo

“Well, look who has a pep in her step, all of a sudden. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile in days, since Harry’s left. What’s the occasion, Ree?” she teases, surprising me with the simple act of muting an episode of The Great British Bake Off that our nights consist of as of late. 

“I may have had a good day,” I suggest with a shrug of my shoulders as I put my coat away in the closet. 

“Since bloody when? You were in a shitty mood the last time we spoke, having ‘Harry withdrawals,’ or something. I’d say the only reason you could be happy right now is if you’d seen him, which would be impossible seeing he’s in Glasgow for another few days,” she mutters. I observe the look on her face change and how her eyebrows dance along her forehead after I turn around to face her, letting the smile lose. “Wait, he’s still there, isn’t he?” she questions, reaching a hand out as if looking for an answer with her body, too. 

My head shakes from side to side slowly as my lips part to show my teeth, a rarity among my smiles, and the expression dawning on her face tells me she recognizes it too. “He came back today, his case finished early, Skye. And I asked him out on a date!” 

“You didn’t?! Ree, you better not be kidding with me, or I’m gonna be really pissed at you!” she chuckles, feigning intimidation in her voice. Hints of the emotions buzzing around inside of me play across her face, meanwhile, my happiness keeps growing notch after notch. 

I don’t know if I can wait that long either, Harry, cause I can’t remember the last time I was this excited. Thank you so much xxx

“I’m not kidding, Skye, and he said yes! He didn’t even let me finish asking and he said yes!” I exclaim after sending the text I had been typing, feeling her arms come around me in a shock when I look back up. 

“I’m so fucking happy for you, Ree, it’s about bloody time!” she remarks excitedly, almost crushing me in a hug. 

“Me too, I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” I admit softly, relaxing in her arms, even though part of me wishes they were the arms of somebody else. Only an hour later, and I already miss him. Wow, I’ve got this bad. 

“Did you kiss him at least?!”

“No, I’m waiting for the date, I guess. I looked like proper crap today, I’ve been up so late the last few nights prepping for the case with Myles,” I laugh, pulling away from her smell of peaches and chocolate when my pocket dings. 

“First kisses aren’t something you plan, Ree, they just happen out of nowhere. The sooner, the better.” 

“I guess you’re right,” I confess with a smile stuck to my lips. “We’ll just see what happens.”

+

Happiness and its synonyms still fill me to the brim an hour later, and whilst my thumbs flit across the screen of my phone. Her words stare back at me, and unbeknownst to me how, I wish I could see her again already. My footsteps wander down the main hallway, and before I know what I’m doing, I arrive at her door. Low and behold, it’s closed and my heart sinks into my chest when I find darkness waiting behind it. 

miss u already bug xoxo

My words are whisked off to her, and soon my legs are entering the doorway of a certain somebody’s office, although not the one I was hoping for.

“It’s about time you made your rounds and came to say hi to me. Should I feel offended I’m the last one on your list?” Myles teases from behind his desk with a grin lining his lips. 

“Oh, shuddup. Did Becks leave already fer tha night?” I question, letting my shoulder fall to the door frame as I watch the small ‘delivered’ appear under my blue text. 

“Yeah, I ran into her about twenty minutes ago in the break room when she was clocking out. What, didn’t you already see her?”

“Ya, she was me first visitor. I was jus’ hopin’ t’ see her ‘gain,” I shrug, well aware of the terrible job I’m doing of hiding the one hundred watt smile I’m wearing. 

“And does that have anything to do with you blinding me with that smile of yours?” he inquires, raising a sandy blonde eyebrow at me. 

“Maybe it has sumthin’ t’ do with me havin’ a date with her on Friday, as of an hour ago,” I reveal casually with a shrug of my shoulders, feeling the smile grow larger somehow. 

“Fucking finally,” Myles chimes with happiness spreading across his face, and I nod quickly. 

“I know, ‘s all finally comin’ t’getha fer us.”

+

It would be accurate to say that I was still in utter disbelief after yesterday, and rehashing it all to Skye the second I got home only made it all seem more real, and even better. Then again, that was an understatement, because I had been waiting for this for years. I had been waiting to feel this way for too long, and to be able to say and think that I have a date with Harry tomorrow. An actual, proper date. Several times, I cursed myself for not making the date on Thursday night, tonight, because although I had waited painstakingly for five days, another two felt like twenty years.

It was even bittersweet coming to work the next day and not seeing him there, confusing the habits and expectations I had come to know. I still had to finish up the case with Myles that he would finish arguing, with my help, for the next two days. I tried to think of it that way, that the date would be even better after finishing that case, and in a way, signifying my return to Harry. God, it was all too perfect, but it would be even more so if I didn’t have to wait another bloody day, well actually two, to see him. Yesterday wasn’t long enough, but when I think about it, no length of time ever is with him and that’s how I know I’m in trouble.

Also, that I’m walking right into one of my dreams.

+

After a morning spent in court starting off the case, I was back at the firm with Myles after lunch to work on it some more. He had given me more time to myself to work on my own than Harry had, but I preferred it that way. Harry was right, Myles was good to me, and I did learn a lot from him, but it wasn’t the same as being with Harry. Nothing has ever and never will be the same as being with him, certainly not. Also, the whole Family and Interpersonal side of court was depressing as fuck, I found out. The topic littered Harry and I’s conversations the last almost week, resulting in me taking after him and deciding to stay far away from it for now. 

I’m reminded of him everywhere I go, and it definitely makes trying to get my work done all the more difficult. I see his face in the succulent sat at the corner of my desk, behind my office chair where he would lean over me to help me on my laptop, on my sofa where he opened his birthday presents with explosive happiness, and in the reflection on the tall window where I now stand in the same spot as on his birthday when he hugged me against his front with a kiss to my head. A day later, and it all still feels so surreal to me, and I’m not mad about it. I appreciate its distracting qualities, leaving me to not worry as much about what the hell I’m going to wear tomorrow, and messing things up. Skye’s already picked out five outfits for me by now, I’m sure, but I was at a loss last night when I perused my closet. The pressure to impress somebody I’ve already met a hundred times, feels even greater than my second interview I had at the firm, and I tell myself I don’t know why, even though I do.

I want to wear the right thing, and feel beautiful. More than that, I don’t want to mess things up between us, again, no matter how stupid that sounds. No matter how premature it is to worry about right now.

With the happiest of sighs, I wander over to my bookshelf that now sits a dozen law books, gifts from Harry, Skye, Robbie, my dad, and Asher. Perhaps my favorite, to no surprise, is the Lawyer’s Dictionary that Harry got me. It has a section for all of the law jargon, another on many important laws, and lastly finishes with a guide for working the courtroom. I was just getting on my tippy toes to grab it when I feel a pair of arms surround my chest and pull me against theirs. 

“Hiya, brat,” a voice teases, tickling my neck. 

“Harry!” I exclaim with surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms. “Why do you love to scare me so much?”

“I dunno, ‘s fun, and coz yer a brat, so ya deserve it,” he giggles, and finally I relent and do too as I turn around to face him. 

“I am not a brat!” I argue, finding his flushed stubbly cheeks, taking a second to get used to the thick stubble covering them now. 

“Ya are, I reckon, couldn’t even wake me up last night t’ finish tha rest o’ tha FRIENDS episode on FaceTime, jus’ kept watchin’ along without me. If that doesn’t make ya a brat, then I dunno what does,” he tuts, clucking his tongue as he shakes his head at me. My giggles grow into a hearty chuckle as his folded hands settle at the small of my back. 

“Harry Edward!” I scoff, swatting at his chest once again hidden by his Northface coat, matching his black skinny jeans. 

“Hey, ya betta watch that hand o’ yers, bug, and that mouth too.”

“I’m not a brat,” I whine, all facial features falling into a pout that immediately grabs his attention. 

“Rebecca Ann, don’t even start with me. Put that bloody pout away befo’ ya regret it,” he insists, pointing his eyes at me with the smallest of smirks peeking through on his lips. It wins him over and soon his dimples accompany his deep laugh. “Stop, yer not a brat, bug, ‘m jus’ teasin’ ya. Y’know that. Jus’ can’t believe it didn’t even take a week fer ya t’ skip ahead o’ me in our show.”

“The episode was already three quarters of the way over!” I protest, earning a good finger wag at me. I fight back and push against his chest. “And I didn’t want to wake you up, you were so tired.”

“No, it was not! It was only half way through and ya couldn’t even wake me up! How rude o’ my Becks t’ be makin’ up excuses.” 

“Stop being mean to me,” I pout again, beginning to turn away with my arms crossed over my chest. 

“Hey, ‘m jus’ givin' ya a hard time, bug, y’know that. Yer neva a brat, and even if ya are, yer my brat,” Harry hums warmly, the honey returning to his voice in full force as he catches me around the middle with his arms once again. I can’t remember the last time I heard his voice absent of the honey, though. I don’t ever want to. “I wouldn’t want ya any otha way.”

“I knew you were only joking.”

“You li’l liar!” he laughs against my temple and mine joins his ever so contagious one. “Y’know, ‘ve always loved how ya neva take me shit and how ya can dish it right back, Becks.”

“Of course, I figured out at  the very beginning that I wouldn’t get by without it.”

“That’s me girl,” he coos, bringing me forth and round to find his gentle green eyes once more. They smile at me with a sparkle to them I haven’t had the pleasure to know before. I’ve yet to see him look at anybody this way, and I wonder if I have my own special look in my eyes for him, too. If I do, it was born long ago. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you had said you were going to take it easy until Monday, since your case got done early,” I wonder aloud, unsure of what to do with my hands until they venture to his coat’s zipper on their own, pulling it up and down distractedly. 

“I was, until My’ roped me into a partner meetin’ t’day, and I wanted t’ see a special sumbody,” he sighs with an accented roll of his eyes at first, and then they dish out their dazzle on me. “But that’s it, and ‘m off afta that. I hafta do a li’l work fer my case afta finishin’ it, but it’ll only take ten minutes tops. Then laundry, cleanin’, and tha like at home before grocery shoppin’. Only jus’ now got outta bed, tha bloody jetlag.”

“Ah, I see. The work of a lawyer never ends, it seems,” I comment and he nods above me, eyes watching my every move closely. “God, if I knew you’d be here today I would have tried a little harder when I got dressed this morning,” I laugh nervously, my eyes falling to his crimson button-up peeking out from his coat, decorated with gray flowers and foliage. 

“Ya don’t even hafta try and ya look gorgeous, Becks. Promise,” Harry disagrees, the molasses pouring out from his words and into my heart, pushing the very last chip away. Just like that, I’m all his again, but I think it happened long before this and I didn’t know. Daring a look up at him, the dimples couldn’t be deeper in his cheeks as his sunshine smile radiates onto me, the pad of his thumb rough against my cheek. “I sure missed seein’ that smile, ‘s me favourite.” 

My anxiousness carries away with the sunshine, and I’m left with red cheeks and a smile that makes them hurt. It almost pains me to look into his bright sunny eyes, but I wouldn’t want to be looking anywhere else. Finally, I let myself look and with that, I let him in a little further and start to let go. 

“You’re really laying it on thick,” I jest harmlessly with a smile, dragging my finger down the seam of his chest where the two sides of the fabric meet in red cloth buttons. 

“Ya, coz I finally can,” he grins, and the warmth spreading across my body in tingly waves finds an outlet in a soft laugh of mine. 

Anxious yes, but ever so happy while his hand spreads out flush against my back, fingertips moving lazily. I’ve already pinched myself once or twice today wondering if this is all a dream, and shocked that I could ever be this happy. There were so many times I doubted the existence of it and its possibility, and everything it had to do with having this with Harry. Predictably, an electronic twinkle interrupts our conversation, and I’m confused to find him lifting his wrist. 

“Woah, look at the fancy lawyer,” I tease, his already colossal smile growing taller as he flicks a finger across his shiny new Apple watch. “That must have cost a pretty penny.”

“Ya, and My’ dished out e’ry last cent,” he titters, pressing his palm to the shiny surface rounded by space grey edges, returning his eyes and hands to me. “It was his birthday present t’ me, sayin’ that I should be mo’ organized at me age, or sumthin’.”

“Talk about brutal honesty right there.”

“Don’t go bloody agreein’ with him now!” Harry scoffs, but his mouth open in disgust is no more, lined by joyous lips that soon attack my cheeks in kisses. 

“No, no, no!” I beg aloud in shrieks when his quick fingers dance along my ribs, sending jolts of electricity across my body. More exclamations and pleas escape them before I say the magic words, “Harry Edward!” 

“What d’ya want, hmm, Rebecca Ann?” he asks breathlessly, that adorable breathy laugh falling off of his glossy cherry lips. 

“I think you like saying my full name too much,” I contend, giving up and falling into the sage green abyss of his eyes for the hundredth time, or more. 

“Maybe I do. Maybe I like it,” he shrugs mischievously, that smirk glued to his lips that pull me in. 

“Do you like it, the watch?”

“Ya, ‘s nice. I thought ‘d told ya ‘bout it, sorry. Reckon it has helped me t’ stay organized. Speakin’ of, me meetin’ ‘s inna few, so I hafta take off, bug,” he croons with disapproving lips, his bottom lip soon jutting out from the top. 

“Harry Styles, don’t you even!” I threaten rather weakly, the sounds of happiness leaving my lips doing a good job of that. 

“Oh, and what if I don’t? Hmmm, Rebecca Holte, jus’ what will ya do ‘bout it?” Harry returns, wiggling an eyebrow at me that makes my chest rumble with harder laughter. 

“I’ll just have to stop you, but I don’t know how just yet.”

A devilish smirk is born on his lips before my eyes, and soon leaves my view while his face escapes to the crook of my neck, his voice soon tickling my skin, “Lawyers gotta be quick on their feet, bug. Reckon I can think o’ a way ya can make these lips stop poutin’, maybe ya can try it on me t’morro’ afta our date,” he hums against my neck, knitting up his sentence with a whisper of a kiss below my ear.

I feel like a fricken sixteen-year-old all over again, and I’m loving every second. 

“You better get going to your meeting, before you’re late, Harry,” I giggle uncontrollably,  sure that my face is blotchy with red all over because of what he just said. My suspicion is confirmed when he lifts his head of moused curls to look me in the eyes again, and the glint in them tells me so. I feel like I can read him even better now, all because he’s letting me. 

“‘s alright, they expect me t’ be late by now, ‘s a given,” he insists with a comedic shrug of his shoulders, hands wandering away from my back and to our sides where they invite my hands into his. 

“Will you stop and say goodbye this time?”

“‘Course, bug. ‘m sorry I missed ya yestaday, ya had already left afta I had made me rounds,” he assures me, receiving a quiet ‘it’s okay’ from me. 

“Try not to fall asleep at your meeting today,” I joke, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head briefly before he scoops me into his arms for a squeeze. 

“I won’t if ya promise not t’ be a brat anymo’ and skip ahead in our show.”

“Get lost and go to your meeting already!” I laugh, shoving him away by his chest, observant of his mouth relaxing into a disbelieving ‘O’. His laugh echoes mine quickly, only disrupted when my hand comes to his cheek to plant my lips on his other for a few seconds longer than necessary. “I’m so glad you’re back, Harry.”

“So am I, Becks, so bloody much,” he echoes, holding my hands a little tighter in his, even bringing one to his lips for a kiss. “Good luck on yer case, love, for tha thousandth time. ‘m so proud o’ you.”

With that, he leaves me in a puddle of my own surreal emotions, disappearing from my office with a look over his shoulder wearing that smirk. That very smirk I want so desperately to kiss off those cherry lips already. Tomorrow, I think, if I can make it until then. Just one more day.

+

I had been struggling with finishing this last part, or rather redoing it, for too long now. When my eyes again strayig to the violet clock, I was surprised to find that it had been almost an hour, and I hadn’t gotten much further. With my head in my hands, I sigh as feelings battle to be felt within my insides. After today’s argument, Myles and I had to shift our approach, and I still wasn’t sure of how to do that. He had been helping me, of course, but I still felt so lost. It doesn’t help that he’s currently caught up in the partner’s meeting that Harry is also at, and Jennings who is but isn’t a partner. I still don’t get it, even though Harry explained it to me a few times. The next time he does, I’ll have to remember to ask him to dumb it down for me. 

Even after pouring over our shared notes in Google Docs, and my several law books strewn across my desk, I’m at a loss for what to do.

I wish more than anything that it was already five pm tomorrow, and that the only thing I have to think about is my date with Harry. I still don’t know what the hell to wear, or to do with my hair, or how heavy to go with my makeup. 

“Why tha long face, bug?” somebody pipes up, pulling me away from my immersive thoughts. Blinking hard, I tear my eyes away from the laptop screen and look over to the door, but I don’t lift my tired head from my propped fist. 

“I don’t know what to do for my argument.”

“Still? Why didn’t ya jus’ ask, Becks?” Harry hums with an inviting smile, pressing the door to come just shy of closing. 

I shrug my shoulders with a heavy exhale, scrolling through what I have so far, quickly realizing how embarrassing it’ll be to show him. I can’t exit out quickly enough, hearing his footsteps arrive behind me. 

“Hey, what d’ya think yer doin’?” he teases when I switch tabs, quickly feeling the weight of his hand on top of mine, dragging the mouse along. “Don’t be nervous, love, ‘m here t’ help. Always am,” he coos softly, a hand settling on my adjacent shoulder, earning me an encouraging squeeze. 

“It’s embarrassing, Harry. I’ve been sitting here for over an hour trying to figure out what to do, and I have next to nothing to show for it.”

“Relax, ‘s only yer first official case yer arguin’. Don’t be so hard on yerself, Becks. It sounds like ya need a break, bug,” he insists, sending sparks along my left arm as he rubs stripes along the skin. It’s not long before I hear a familiar laugh and slowly, Harry’s dancing figure comes into view. “Yo ‘ll tell ya what I want, what I really, really want. So tell me what ya want, what ya really, really want,” he belts out, his phone blasting the song cupped in his hand. 

“Oh my God,” I sigh with an accidental laugh, my head falling into my hands. I’m too curious though, and so I peek out from behind my spread fingers to watch him sing passionately with his eyes closed while breaking out some amusing dance moves. “Please, stop,” I chuckle, but I’m sure he also hears the lie in my voice. 

“‘m not stoppin’.”

“Please, Harry. You’re going to make me die from secondhand embarrassment,” I confess into my hands, feeling brave and letting my fingers fall down to below my eyes. Mistakenly, his catch mine and they fly back up to cover my eyes, or for the most part. 

“Rebecca Ann, ‘m not stoppin’ ‘til ya come and join me.”

“Then you’re going to be there for a while,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, certain of one thing and that’s the smile claiming my lips, and the forgotten document staring at me. I’m too preoccupied with the silly, dancing man in front of my eyes, and how somehow this makes me love him all the more. 

“Becks,” he insists, in between singing along to the song very badly. Oh no, I think as his steps near me once again. Before I know it, I’m staring into darkness as his breath tickles the back of my neck. 

“Stop,” I beg with laughs interjected among my pleas. They grow into near shouts and exclamations when his singing is accompanied by his fingers dancing across my sides, and along the slopes of my neck. “Harry!” I almost yell, and when my laughs couldn’t hurt my belly more, it all ceases. Only the singing remains and is joined by his stubbly cheek against my temple, and his arms coiled around my shoulders. “If ya wanna be my lova, ya gotta get with my friends.”

“Make it last forever, friendship never ends,” I continue for him, giggles heard at the end when his nose tickles the corner of my sensitive neck. 

“There’s me happy Becks, ‘m glad I found her ‘gain,” Harry coos, leaving a kiss on my temple before he helps me to tackle my argument. 

Five days did and didn’t feel very long when I think about it now, with his arms wrapped around me as his voice tickles my ear. Too easily, I can remember his absence over those long days, and how effortlessly they felt far longer. I barely survived with his texts and phone calls alone, and it hurts to think that if it hadn’t been for his case finishing early, I’d still be sitting here in my office all in my lonesome. 

Those thoughts are yanked away - thank God - when his voice brings me back, spewing legal mumbo jumbo that luckily nowadays I can understand, but I couldn’t have always said that. Harry makes quick work of what would be my best route to take and how I do that, and for the fiftieth time in the last two days, I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy things are coming together. I couldn’t be more thankful to have him by my side. It still feels like a dream getting to live this life now, and getting to work with him on the daily, singing Spice Girls amidst stolen cheek kisses.

One puzzle piece at a time, and there’s only one or two pieces left in this puzzle of ours.

+

The murmur of voices assaults my ears when I walk through the door, and feel my vision tugged towards the ceiling decorated with chandeliers. A song by Frank Sinatra floats around the entryway, hardly calming my overactive nerves, despite it being a favorite of my late grandpa’s. When I finally reach the host’s stand, the nerves topple out with my words, jumbling them.

“Reservation for H-Harry Styles, please,” I tell the towering, dark haired man. After a few moments tapping away on the kiosk, he grabs two menus and leads me through a maze of linen covered tables sat under the glow of the several chandeliers. 

I try to hide my disappointment when he leads me to an empty, round table, leaving with a few words about my server being with me soon. Another feeling bubbles up inside me, forcing itself to join all of the others mixed together within me. I had a feeling I was too early, I think silently as I shrug off my long pea coat to hang over my chair. Skye’s wishes of good luck and ‘lots of snogging’ float back to me, filling my sad cheeks with another wash of pink. ‘No, you aren’t driving yourself, I’m dropping you off so then you can get a ride home with him, and lay a big one on him when he walks you up,’ she had insisted, but the anxiousness years in the making is doing a good job of making me doubt myself tonight. 

My attention drifts to my phone that is silent with no new messages, but I still check our conversation. The last message was from him:

see u in half an hour for our date bug :) xxx

My thumb scrolls through our previous messages, straying to last night’s that brings a smile to my face. 

I have no idea what to wear tomorrow :/ 

meant it when i said u look beautiful in anything Becks ;) help what should i wear ? xx

I might be a little impartial to that gray suit you wore to my class lecture that one time ;) 

noted ;) i may especially love the color red on u if u wanna know 

Noted ;) Question....

shoot, love 

Skye was gonna drop me off tonight on her way to her boyfriend’s …. Would a ride home be too much to ask?

course not Becks. anytime u need a ride im here. id love to give u a ride home. perfect we can jam 2 some spice girls in the car then ;) 

I can’t wait

neither can i bug :) 

My reminiscing is interrupted when my eyes fall to my outfit of choice, tugging up the scoop neck that Skye insisted wasn’t ‘too slutty.’ Now, I’m not so sure about it, and I can’t decide if I wish he’d show up already, or if I’m not ready. Those thoughts are stolen away when the texts disappear on my phone, his smiling face claiming the screen with a jingle. 

“Hello?” I answer with a gulp, trying to hide the anxious tremble in my voice. I can’t help it, my eyes dart to my wrist, noticing it’s already 6:05 pm.

“Hi, bug. ‘m sorry but tha traffic ‘s horrendous and ‘m afraid ‘ll be late gettin’ t’ tha restaurant. E’rybody else ‘s comin’ home from work too,” Harry explains from the other side, a weird sound taking over his voice. Yeah, we’re not too good at this pretending thing anymore, are we? I can hear the nerves in his voice, probably just like he can hear them in mine. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. I don’t mind at all, just be careful driving,” I respond, feeling a sense of relief at knowing where he is. I know he never would, but it squashes the tiny voice inside of me saying he wasn’t ever going to show up. 

“‘Course I will, love. Thanks fer understandin’. Reckon ‘ll be there in ten. Are ya there already?” he responds, just the sound of his voice doing wonders at calming me down. The only thing that could take it all away is a hug, one of his.

“Yeah, I just sat down.”

“Mmmm, d’ya mind scopin’ out tha menu while yer there? I won’t be too long, we can order once I get there, if that’s alright,” he asks, the sound of traffic sneaking into our phone call for a second. Then, I hear him sigh ‘finally’ and the subsequent thrum of the motor.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon then, careful driving.”

“I can’t wait t’ see you, Becks,” he hums before hanging up, leaving me sitting across from an empty chair that I can’t stop picturing him sitting in. 

This is really happening.

Finally.

+

The sound of her voice rings in my ears, and does nothing to stop the anxious shakes coursing throughout my body. Curses fall under my breath as I honk at somebody who pulls out right in front of me, making me slam on my brakes. With a sigh, I turn on my indicator before making my turn.

Pulling my keys from the ignition drenches my surroundings in silence, and reminds me of my heart beating wildly within my chest. Looking up, the decorative windows of the restaurant appear before me in shrouded light. She’s somewhere in there . . waiting for me.

Get it together, Harry. You can do this.

My eyes drift to the rear view mirror and I card my fingers through my hair until it looks decent enough. That’s as good as it’s going to get, I almost mutter while smoothing down my blazer underneath my coat. The bone chilling February night nips at my face once my feet touch the tarmac. Streetlights cast glows all around me, as well as the headlights of several cars. The thumping within my chest grows louder and faster as my feet near the door, and then the stand where a manicured man waits.

“Hi. I made a reservation unda the name ‘Harry Styles’,” I tell him, immediately casting my eyes to the tables within view, searching for her dark chocolate locks. 

“Right this way,” he replies, waving a hand to follow him and I do. He leads me past several tables, empty and occupied, and almost gets me lost in the process.

The last thing I feel is lost when my eyes finally find her.

“Thank you. I-I got it from here,” I tell him hurriedly, holding a hand out that brings us both to a halt. He walks away after a short ‘you’re welcome,’ leaving me there, right where I want to be.

I don’t remember the smile reaching my ears or my heart quieting within my chest as I watch her flip through the menu thirty feet away from me. The prettiest red dress dons her long body, falling just underneath her collarbones and draped over the curve of her shoulders. Her hair falls in dark, natural waves, almost hiding the round opal sitting above the scoop of scarlet fabric. A tingling sensation blankets my body from head to toe, and the image of Becks sitting there waiting for me is burned into my mind.

It feels like I’m meeting her again for the first time, but I’m not. This feels like a new first time, and I know it’s one I won’t ever forget, much like the very first time I laid my eyes upon her. 

It felt like a Monday. For the bloody life of me, I couldn’t remember if it was one at the moment. Is it Monday? I’m not sure, but with the way things were going today, it sure felt like one. The copier had a jam, I forgot the first lunch I’ve made in years at home, and my girlfriend had been annoying the fuck out of me this morning. To top it all off, I had applicants being interviewed today to fill the position of my personal assistant, ever since the last one bolted. She didn’t last more than two weeks, a big surprise. 

Pete had been blowing up my phone for the last ten minutes, and I finally had had enough. Without an announcement or a knock, I stride into his office, fully intent on finding out what the hell he wants. 

“I’m a little busy, if you haven’t noticed,” he retorts over the head of dark chestnut locks sat in front of him. Presumably, one of the new applicants for my personal assistant. Hmm. 

“Well, ya kept ringin’ me bloody phone, Pete. So, what tha hell d’ya want?” I insist, throwing up a hand that falls to my thigh with a loud slap. 

Suddenly, I wish the quiet little thing would turn around, and give me a look at her. Shy, she is, it seems. There she sits, tucked away into her little shell, dressed to impress in a dark dress. 

“I’m in the middle of an interview!” he exclaims, certainly making a good first impression with the applicant. It makes me wonder for the tenth time why I bother having him do the interviews, but then I remember that I don’t really give a fuck, as long as I don’t have to do them. 

“What fer, huh?” I tease, instantly getting a snappy response from Pete about it being for me, as if I didn’t already know. But, I did, and am only doing this to bother him even more. 

“Ooo, ‘s it now? Ya get me a good one? Huh, Pete?” I grin, taking a step forward as a hand in my pocket plays with the tiny, metal guitar attached to my key ring. Sticking my head out as I move forward, my eyes dance across her head, and her profile that soon comes into view. “Hullo, love. Gonna be me new one, are ya? Petey here says I can’t keep one fer tha life o’ me, so here he ‘s interviewin’ me anotha one. How’s she doin’ so far, Petey? Think she’s a winna?” I joke aloud, knowing full well the effect my words have on the both of them. 

My subsequent introduction falls from my lips after a retort from Pete, and then the stranger finally turns to look me in the eyes. I rack my brain, trying to put a name to her face from a prior conversation with Pete. Or was it going over her resume when it came in the other day? I can’t remember which, and I blame it on her captivating baby blue eyes, as well as the intoxicating smile that greets my own. Words float from her lips and grace my ears for the very first time, and I knew immediately that she was something else. 

“Hi, my name is Becky. Becky Holte.”

Little did I know how drastically she would change my life, sometimes I thought for the worse, but ultimately for the better. The better, always. I had no way of knowing at that very moment, how many times she would come to save me.

My Becks.

+

The sound of homemade ravioli filled with chicken and three kinds of cheese is almost making my mouth water. It also makes me wonder when Harry will finally be here, and habitually, my eyes lift to look for him. To my surprise, I find him standing a ways away with the sweetest smile stuck to his lips. 

“Hiya, Becks. Sorry ‘m late. Ya look . . absolutely gorgeous, by tha way,” he comments once he’s within a few steps of the table. He reaches across to squeeze my arm before sitting down across from me, a blush pinching his cheeks. 

“Thank you, Harry. I uh, like the suit you went with, you look very handsome in it. Good choice,” I return, failing to not focus on the fast thrumming deep inside of me. 

“Ya, a certain sumbody said it was their favourite on me, so I couldn’t disappoint,” he grins with a shrug, unfastening the button at his waist, exposing the satiny black button-up hidden underneath. 

“Good, I’m glad you didn’t,” I smile, sure of the warmth he can see filling my cheeks, because I can see it mirrored in his own. “I like that you kept the stubble.”

“Why thank you,” he comments, once again rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger, and like before, making me all the more jealous. “I trimmed it up a li’l bit, figured I betta.” 

“Oh, I hope you keep it. I think I prefer you with it.”

“D’ya now, Becks?” he teases with a lift of his eyebrows, his tousled curls almost tickling his forehead, but just barely. “‘ll hafta rememba that,” he smiles, and more than ever, it’s incredibly contagious. My cheeks are starting to hurt from smiling by now, but I don’t even mind. 

“The um,” I begin nervously, my eyes falling to the elegant paper menu opened in front of me. It pains me to look away from him and the sunshine emanating from his smile, but it’s not so bad when I feel his chelsea boot knock against my heel, remaining there against the back of my ankle. “Chicken ravioli sounds good, as well as the margherita pizza, and Cacio e Pepe. Lots of good choices for dessert, too.”

“Mmm, they all sound good, love. Thanks fer lookin’ fer us,” he muses aloud, head bent down to peer at the menu when I glance over to him. 

His habit returns and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, and somehow, it makes my smile grow bigger. I didn’t think that was possible, but here I am with aching cheeks. I nudge his foot with mine and he looks up with a question on his face, soon relaxing into a sparkling smile. That effervescent look in his eyes from the other day returns, and if I hadn’t known it already, I truly could look into his eyes for the rest of eternity. The dimples haven’t left his cheeks since he arrived, and his raspberry lips beg at me from across the table. 

“Let’s give it a try then,” he remarks, closing his menu without breaking our eye contact. The words dipped in honey flow from his lips and tickle something inside me, and I want more than anything to hear another meaning in them. His foot nudging at mine in return only makes me give in to it, and so does his wink. 

Our server arrives at our table shortly, and I thank God for the champagne she pours into tall flutes, not taking the edge off fast enough. A conversation blossoms between us about his case, and then mine with Myles. 

“Ya did great by tha way. Congrats on tha win, Becks, ‘m so fookin’ proud o’ you,” Harry grins adamantly, sweetness pouring off of his words that come out with a shake of his head. 

“Thank you so much, Harry. Wait, how’d you know we won it? I was just going to tell you,” I ask with furrowed brows, and receive a measly shrug of his shoulders in return. The look on his face, as if a revelation is threatening to burst from his lips, teases at me until it abates when the server brings us waters and we order. 

“So so bloody proud o’ you t’day, Becks,” he whispers as she pulls out her notepad and a pen. Possibilities blossom within my mind after he sends me a coy wink and knocks his foot against mine again. It doesn’t leave my own throughout the rest of our time there, during our meal and the laughs we share over glasses of champagne, and a plate of Tiramisu that I somehow let him share with me.

+

“I knew it! You were there today, sitting in the gallery, weren’t you?!” I exclaim, mumbling a short ‘thank you’ when he opens the car door for me. 

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs casually, walking around the front of the car as I fall onto the leather seat. 

“Harry Styles!” I nearly shout, if it weren’t for my voice dissolving into a giggle as he slides behind the steering wheel next to me. 

“What? I had some stuff t’ do at tha courts, so I may have popped in fer a mo’,” he explains. 

“Sure,” is all I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest. 

“Hush, and play some music, bug. Here,” he insists, handing me his grey iPhone that looks normal sized in his hand, and then gigantic in mine. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to watch?”

“Coz o’ that right there, Becks. Yer nervous ‘bout it right now afta tha fact, imagine how ya woulda been if ‘d told ya I was comin’ befo’ yer argument t’day,” he returns, pressing buttons on the dash and soon, waves of hot air greet my cold body. 

“I guess you’re right.”

“‘m what? I didn’t catch that,” Harry jests, cupping his ear. A scoff flies from my lips and I playfully swat his shoulder. “Hey, watch it. ‘m drivin’.”

“You haven’t even switched gears, so shut up,” I laugh, catching the eye roll he thinks I don’t see. “I see that eye roll, Styles, you better watch it.”

“You betta watch it, Becks. Betta pick a good Spice Girls song too, ‘m payin’ attention,” he jokes, soon his fingers diving into my side. A laugh escapes me unwillingly, and yanks my eyes over to his giggling lips. 

His name leaves mine in a near shriek, and after a blink, his tickling fingers are gone and lacing between mine. The dark flecks in his sage green eyes catch under the overhead light before it turns off automatically. He gives my hand a good squeeze as his eyes melt into mine, and a zing of electricity runs up my fingers and then my arm. The smile falling into his cheeks mirrors the one that’s been glued to my lips all night, and now grows higher and higher. I return the squeeze just as he looks to his mirrors, the click of the doors locking when he shifts to Reverse. 

It almost hurts to look away, but so many other feelings and thoughts are occupying me as my eyes fall to his phone. Disbelief washes over me as his long, ringed fingers sit between mine. It only grows when he lifts our intertwined hands up and over the middle console, to sit on his warm thigh.

An uninvited wave of pain hits me when I spot familiar sad songs amongst his music library, like the familiar ‘When She Loved Me’ that could make any Toy Story fan weep within seconds of hearing it. It intensifies when my eyes run over the songs Before You Go, Wish You Were Here, Say You Won’t Let Go, and With or Without You. Chancing a glance over at him, he stares straight ahead into the dark night, and a bittersweetness greets me. I try not to let it in, and the realization that perhaps those lost seven months were hell for him too, as were those five days apart. 

“Find it? I have Spice World on there sumwhere. I know I have loads o’ shit on there, sorry,” he comments, turning his head to check his left before pulling onto the busy road. 

“Y-Yeah,” I stutter, looking back to his expansive music library spanning from the 50’s to current music. His thumb drawing circles onto my knuckles brushes some of the sadness away as I bring up the album he speaks of. 

“Bloody hell, why ya choosin’ tha sad one, Becks?” he titters, glancing over to me when we come to a stop at a light. His smile shining back at me whisks away the last drops of the sadness, but hints of it remain with me, begging to be felt. I shrug my shoulders as the beginning lyrics of ‘Too Much’ fills the car, and I only turn it up louder. “I get t’ pick tha next song, if yer playin’ sad stuff. Bloody rubbish you are at pickin’ songs,” he sighs jokingly with a shake of his head, curls tickling his ears and the nape of his neck. 

“I am not!” 

“‘Kay, brat, keep talkin’,” he snickers, earning another scoff from me that he answers with a harder laugh. I cast my eyes to the window with an exaggerated whimper, soon hearing his profuse apologies. “‘m kiddin’, Becks, bloody hell. I already know ya have a good taste in music from all o’ our talks. I like this song too, jus’ thought ya’d go fer some happy songs, seein’ tha . . occasion and e’rythin’. Hey.” 

I answer him with my eyes returning to him, finding his wink before he looks back to traffic, and with my thumb coasting back and forth across his smooth skin. I listen to the lyrics, feeling another squeeze of my hand from him before I change the song. 

“Hey, don’t change it befo’ ‘s done!” he exclaims, and I just laugh, watching his shocked lips soon do the same. 

“Then stop complaining,” I argue, catching another roll of his eyes as the car slows to a stop in front of another light. Joy buds on my lips as the surprise unfolds on his features, meanwhile his eyes crinkle, the dimples fall deeper, and his raspberry lips thin out as a smile consumes his face. 

“I knew ya were sumthin’ special,” he notes aloud with a shake of his head, a giggle emanating from his joyous smile, right before he joins me to sing along to Shania Twain’s ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman.’ 

His fingers laced between mine continue to send my heart into overdrive as we belt out the song between contagious laughs, and then another crowd favourite, ‘You’re Still The One.’ This one gets me and sometimes throughout the song, I can’t get myself to look at him with the sincerity held in the lyrics. As well as the words that hit too close to home. 

Finally, I can’t stand it anymore, and my eyes drift over to his at the end of the song, finding that his are already on mine. “‘m so glad we made it. Look how far we’ve come, my baby,” Harry finishes with his eyes dancing upon me with that smile dripping with molasses. As if his hand squeezing mine periodically throughout the song wasn’t already making me want to cry, now I really could. I return the gesture before looking out the window, blinking back the arriving tears from my eyes as those lasting words sing inside of my head. 

Yeah, we finally made it, Harry. Belatedly, but finally.

+

“‘s been years since ‘ve been here, hasn’t changed much tho’,” Harry remarks softly, only a few steps away from my door. 

“Yeah, the inside looks bout the same too.”

“‘m sure. Maybe I could see fer meself one o’ these days,” he remarks aloud, and when my eyes drag over to his nervously, I answer him with a nod. 

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he coos, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the back of my hand. A shy smile nudges at the edge of my lips as he stands in front of me, my right hand still safe within his. “Well, I had a wondaful time t’night, thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, and thank you too. I had a lot of fun . . with you.”

“So did I, bug. ‘ll um, text you later then?” Harry says, clearing his throat awkwardly, his bottom lip soon returning to its nervous spot. 

“Y-yeah, sounds good,” I mumble quietly, eyes falling to my hand that he drops. The absence of his warmth against mine feels very strange now, having been holding hands for the entire drive and subsequent walk up to my apartment. 

“Night, Becks.”

“Goodnight, Harry, careful driving,” is the last thing I say before slipping behind my door, finding Skye perched on the sofa. The monotonous, forced words echo in my ears and my eyes fall to the floor, disappointment flooding every inch of me. 

“So, how’d it go?! Did you finally fucking kiss him?!” she shouts the second the door meets its frame. 

“No,” I admit between shy lips, the steps I take seeming as if they’re from somebody else’s body, not mine. The entire last five minutes feels like somebody else had lived them, not me. No, it can’t end like that. “Not yet, anyways,” I rush, ignoring my shoes I already toed off, spinning around and ripping open the door. “Harry, wait!” I exclaim, finding his surprised expression waiting in front of the lift. 

“What?” he asks, eyebrows bent into a questioning mess. 

“I-I forgot something,” I manage, the words spilling out in a heap while he closes the distance between us, stopping right in front of me. Right where I need him. 

“Forgot what, bug? Did ya forget yer shoes in me car?” he titters, the fluorescent glow overhead picking out the few blonde hairs in his stubble. 

“No . . something else,” I finally admit, taking a step when there aren’t any left. 

The dimples remain set into his cheeks while his eyes fall to my lips and mine raise to his. His facial hair is prickly and dense under the pad of my thumb, and his coveted bottom lip is warm and pillowy. The golden hue of his olive green irises fills my mind when my lips finally meet his, and at last, I find his bottom lip between my own. His sweet giggle sounds against my lips as my fingers get lost in his buttery curls. I come to echo it when his hands shock me with their coldness against my hips, pulling me closer to him. One strays to the back of my head as his lips move against mine, the word ‘finally’ repeating incessantly within my mind. His barely there beard is scratchy against my skin, contrasting to the smooth tip of his nose grazing my cheek. The cinnamon and cocoa powder from the Tiramisu cake tickles my taste buds while his spicy vanilla smell covers me like a blanket. Zings shoot across my palm pressed to his smiling cheek, his facial hair prickly against the sensitive skin. 

Not feeling like what was actually mere seconds later, air fills my lungs when we pull away at the same time, sharp inhales filling the air. Quickly, his sweet giggle joins it, and ropes one of my own in. The tip of his nose leaves trails on my cheek as his forehead falls onto mine. 

“Ya have no idea how long ‘ve waited fer that,” Harry rasps, his warm breath dancing across my lips. His own press a whisper of a kiss to mine briefly, although after that, now I’m sure it could never be long enough. 

“I think I do know,” I mumble, my hand straying to his chin where I brush the tip of my thumb against the flesh of his bottom lip. 

“‘m sorry it took us so long, bug.”

“It’s okay, we’re here now. Finally,” I tell him and he nods, the twinkle in his eye bright as can be. For the first time, I let myself melt and lose myself in the greens of his eyes. Something I have wanted to do ever since the very first time I looked into his green eyes and knew I was fucked. 

“Yes, we are. And look at you, Becks. Ya beat me t' tha first date and tha first kiss,” he smirks with a decadent laugh adorning his words. I can’t help but join him while I twirl a ringlet of his hair around the tip of my finger against the back of his neck. 

“Oh, it’s okay, Harry. You got the first hand hold, and the first Shania Twain car duet.”

A roll of his miraculous eyes accompanies his continuing laugh, “Ya, well, so did you, but I got tha more romantic one,” he insists, words welcomed by my surprised scoff. 

“Wait, you don’t find ‘Man, I Feel Like A Woman’ romantic?!” I nearly exclaim in faux disbelief, my voice softening into a giggle quickly. 

“Only when you sing it, bug,” Harry smiles, thumbing circles into the small of my back. 

“Wait, you got tha first handhold, brat. Rememba, when I visited you at yer old work that day? Bloody hell, you beat me t’ all tha good ones, Becks. No fair,” he snickers with a sigh to his words, the two contrasting the other. I suffice my response with an obligatory nod, feeling my heart just now starting to settle into a regular beat. “Becks, there’s so many things ‘ve wanted t’ say t’ you, and now, I finally can.”

“I think I know how you feel.” 

“First thing ‘ll say ‘s I get tha second date and tha second kiss,” Harry contends with a smirk held in his eyes. 

“Oh, really?” I giggle and he soon nods. He quiets the laugh beginning on my lips with his own giddy ones, my lips molding against his effortlessly. Thoughts blossom quickly within my mind, including why I waited so fucking long to kiss him. If I’d known all of these years how wonderful it feels to kiss him, I never would have waited this long. Our kisses are slow although hurried, our lips searching for the other’s desperately, and somehow perfectly. Years overdue, and it couldn’t feel any more perfect. 

“Fookin’ hell, I jus’ wanna keep kissin’ you, Becks. Dunno if I can stop,” he chuckles, brushing his nose against mine softly. Shockingly, his eyes are even more gorgeous from this view, and I didn’t think that was possible. Evidently, anything is. 

“You don’t have to,” I laugh and he shrugs his shoulders while his eyebrows mimic the expression, his giggle soon vibrating against my tingling lips. 

“We have loads o’ lost time t’ make up fer,” he notes aloud. 

“Yes, we do. A couple years, give or take.”

“Mmmhmm, yer right there, li’l one. Fook, there were so many times I wanted t’ kiss ya ova the years,” he sighs with a sad shake of his head. His dimple is soft under my fingertip, hidden under the warm brunette facial hair. 

“Then kiss me.”

Too soon, his lips leave mine after a short peck, but I press at the back of his curls and envelope his laugh with my lips. My name falls from him in a delighted whisper before one more kiss. Our laughs grow louder only to be muffled, although weakly, when a figure walks by into their nearby apartment. My face runs to the crook of his neck, my very favorite song dancing along my ears as he holds me against him. 

“Nothing to see here, sir,” I joke, and the warmth filling my insides grows at the sound of his happiness. 

“No, I rememba I got tha first handhold that night we went out fer drinks tha first time. Tha night with tha Purple Hazes and all those shots,” Harry insists from above me, and I give him the funniest look when I come out of hiding. 

“You’re still going on about that?” I ask in near disbelief, watching his curls move when he nods his head, dipping to meet my lips with his for a slow kiss. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” I hum against the strawberry color of his decadent mouth. 

“Neither do I, Becks. ‘ve been waitin’ fer it fer so long,” he agrees, the wispiness of his eyelashes ghostlike against my forehead. 

“It’s getting late, and Skye is probably dying to hear how tonight went.”

“Ya betta go and tell tha poor girl then,” he responds, pulling my eyes towards his that sit just a moment away, sending all of the sunshine in my direction. 

“That’s okay?”

“‘Course. I may or may not ring Myles on tha way home t’ tell him all ‘bout it,” he shrugs with a telling lilt to his sing-song voice. The only sound that leaves my lips is an amused laugh that he echoes, and I know that he feels the same way.

At last, I know after over two years that he feels the same way, through and through. 

“We’ll figure out sumthin’ fer this weekend t’getha, sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds great, Harry,” I agree slowly and he nods ever so slightly, leaving kisses starting from my temple and down my cheek. 

“G’night, bug.”

“Night, Harry. Drive careful,” I tell him and once again, he answers me with a nod. 

“I promise, babe.”

“Goodnight,” I almost whisper, the very last breath of the word stolen away by his lips. I wouldn’t want it any other way, I barely am able to think as his lips massage mine between his. His neck is fiery beneath my palms and I’m sure mine is likened to it underneath his fingertips, surges of electricity passing below my skin. The skin is balmy against my blushing cheek when my arms come around his middle, surprising us both with a long hug, before I pull away first. 

“Night, my Becks,” he murmurs against my lips, a shiver running down my spine when he leaves with a final squeeze to my hand. If that didn’t do it, the song flowing from his humming lips sparks memories behind my eyes, but I still can’t figure out where it’s from. But, I know that I have plenty of time to figure it out, and to get all of the kisses that I want from him. 

Fucking finally.

[in-anotherlife-au-blog]

You Know Why | Chapter 2 - Tuesday

"I think we should date."

"Date?"

"Yes, as in you, me, dinner, candles, I walk you to your door, we play that will she won’t she kissing game, that whole thing.”

Kara blushes at the thought, her mind racing a mile a minute.

“Kara?"

The blonde snaps out of her thoughts and finds her roommate looking back at her.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

"Sorry."

"That's okay, you don't need to run through lines with me if you don't want you know? I know you wrote them," Lena smiles before collecting her script and heading into the kitchen only to re-emerge seconds later with a bottle of red and two wine glasses.

"So where's Veronica tonight?" Kara asks trying to make conversation. Things had slightly been, not necessarily off, but different since Kara’s realization of her feelings for her roommate.

"Back home, she's not due to shoot for two more weeks."

"Ah, I'm sorry."

"What for, Kara?"

"Long distance, it's rough."

"You sound like you speak from experience."

"It was a long time ago," Kara says giving Lena tight-lipped smile before taking a long sip of her glass.

"You know what you should do?" Lena says a bit too excitedly for Kara's liking. "You should download Tinder! I’m curious what kind of guys Kara Danvers falls for, plus you’d get a ton of right swipes.”

Kara scoffs, "Absolutely not. I can get a date on my own, thanks."

"Oh come on Kara! You don't have to do anything, the attention alone is just fun."

"Says the actress," Kara mocks.

"You deserve someone to spoil you Kara Danvers.”

Kara's breath catches in her throat, Lena looks at her like she's the purest thing in the world and Kara melts because she wishes it was Lena.

"Thanks, Lena."

"Of course, what are friends for?" Lena says before settling in next to Kara and flipping through what's on TV.

xx

The next time Kara sees Veronica is on a Tuesday morning in her own kitchen.

"Hey Kara," the actress greets her.

"Morning, got any coffee left?" Kara asks pointing to the pot behind her.

"I was actually just going to brew another pot, let me grab you a mug."

It's not that Kara necessarily dislikes Veronica, despite her and Lena's past and the rather aggressive approach Veronica took to be back in Lena's life, Veronica Sinclair has been nothing but kind to Kara since then. Especially over the past few weeks in which she's become a permanent fixture at the girls' home which further reminds Kara of her current living situation.

The girls keep to themselves, Kara on her laptop going over the latest script notes while Veronica peruses on her phone.

"Well look at you two getting along," they look up to find Lena towel drying her hair as she leans over to give Veronica a kiss and Kara internally groans.

"Was there ever a time we weren't getting along?" Kara asks and Veronica snickers.

"Don't be cute," Lena replies snagging Kara's coffee mug and taking a sip.

"On that note...I gotta get going," Veronica says gathering her dishes into the sink. "See you in a few weeks?"

“Definitely," Lena smiles giving her a sweet kiss. "Have a safe flight."

"Later Kara!" Veronica waves behind her as she makes her way to leave, who just waves back in reply.

The roommates are left alone and things aren't necessarily awkward but they're a little awkward.

“She’s not staying?”

“Oh! No, she’s got a few auditions back in LA and stuff, she’ll be back in a few weeks though, if that’s okay?”

“Lena, it’s your place, you don’t have to ask.”

She doesn’t mean to be short but it comes off that way and Lena doesn’t have it in her to ignore it this time.

“Kara, this is your home too, you know?”

“It really isn’t,” she replies.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“You sure as hell don’t seem fine,” Lena fires back.

“All I said was that you didn’t have to run things by me, this isn’t my home.”

“Then why are you here, Kara?”

Kara looks up from her coffee and tries to ignore the pang in her stomach at the hurt look on Lena’s face. This isn’t how it was supposed to go, Lena’s become a best friend to her and she just wants her to be happy and right now, she’s the furthest thing from happy.

“Kara, I didn’t mean - “

Kara cuts her off. “No, it’s…It’s really okay, you’re right. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome, I’m going to email the front office and get a place figured out. I’m really sorry, Lena.”

“No, dammit Kara, no,” Lena says taking a seat across from Kara. “That’s not what I was trying to say, I just. What’s going on with us? Is it Veronica? Do you not like her?”

“No, Lena, that’s not it. I just, I’m just going through some stuff. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like this.”

Lena can tell Kara’s withholding something, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she completely takes Kara by surprise.

“Do you have to go in today?” Lena asks.

“Not really, nothing I can do there that I can’t do here, why?”

“I’m off, how about we finally push through the final season of Buffy and I whip us up some waffles.”

Kara’s eyes bulge.

“Your cinnamon waffles?” She’s practically salivating and Lena’s smiling, already making her way towards the fridge.

“With fresh strawberries and maple syrup…”

“Lena, don’t tease me if you’re just going to serve me Eggos!” Kara laughs, because truth be told, she’d eat whatever Lena put in front of her. Peeking from behind the refrigerator door, Lena replies, “Kara Danvers, you deserve nothing but the best, now pull up Netflix, I want to know if Faith bangs the principal.”

xx

“Tell me it isn’t true,” she says practically sobbing.

“Morgana, calm down,” Veronica as Roulette says taking a step towards the other girl.

“Tell me…” Lena shuts her eyes, her fists are trembling and while Kara knows she’s acting, she can’t help but want to cross the set and pull her friend into an embrace.

“I wish I could, I know there’s nothing I can say to make you…baby, I did this for you.”

“For me?” Anger fills Morgana’s voice. “How dare you pin this on me.”

“I love you,” Roulette whispers and Morgana’s face shifts into a genuine look of surprise.

“CUT!” A bell rings out, the actors slip out of character but the underlying tension between Lena and Veronica is so apparent that J’onn calls for a 30-minute break before the reset. While the rest of the crew filters outside, Kara feels like she’s impeding on a personal moment while the actresses settle to hushed whispers and soft smiles.

It’s that Tuesday afternoon that Kara decides she has to find a new place to live.

xx

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.”

Kara’s attention breaks from her journal and shifts to the woman at the door.

“The Lena Luthor is gracing the writer’s room with her presence?” Kara teases.

“Don’t be rude, I brought you lunch,” the brunette replies dangling a bag from Kara’s favorite Thai restaurant.

“Jay’s Thai doesn’t deliver, how’d you swing that one?”

“Perks of having a girlfriend,” Lena replies already pulling out their usual orders and setting them on the table, missing the way Kara’s face drops.

“Well that was very sweet of her, I’ll be sure to Venmo her,” Kara mutters grabbing her spicy pad thai.

Lena’s brow furrows but she doesn’t push it, a regular occurrence for the roommates as of late.

“So I was thinking…”

“Well that’s never good,” Kara teases which Lena replies with by throwing a pair of chopsticks in her direction.

“As I was saying,” Lena smiles in between bites of her meal. “We haven’t had a good girls night in awhile, what do you think of getting the group together this weekend? Me, you, Maggie, Alex?”

“No Veronica?”

“She’s out of town after tomorrow. She’s got a final callback for a film she’s pretty excited about,” Lena replies rather nonchalantly.

“That’s great,” Kara replies with sincerity in her voice. “So girls night, what did you have in mind?”

xx

Kara’s definition of girls night and Lena’s definition of girls night are two very different things Kara concludes after emerging from her bedroom clad in skinny black jeans and a white v-neck. Meanwhile, her roommate is donning an emerald green dress with a v dip in the back, paired with black Louboutins.

“Do I look okay?” Lena asks as she puts the finishing touches on her make up in the hallway mirror.

Kara visibly gulps, “I’m underdressed,” is all she manages to say.

Lena laughs, “As much as I love you in those skinny jeans, I think you’re going to need to fancy up a bit for what I have planned tonight.”

Images that should never cross her mind are crossing Kara’s mind but efore she can manage to say anything she’s saved by the doorbell with faint yelps from her sister and Maggie to be let inside.

“I’ll get that,” Kara says sidestepping Lena and beelining for the door.

“Was I the only one that didn’t realize we were going clubbing?” Kara asks when she takes in her sister and Maggie’s outfits.

“Come on, I’ll help you get dressed,” Alex says grabbing her sister’s hand while Maggie makes herself at home and pulling out four shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

“Please Sawyer, help yourself,” Lena teases.

“Don’t be rude, I brought you a gift too,” Maggie replies dangling a ridiculously expensive bottle of scotch.

“So, what’s new?” Maggie asks as she expertly pours four equal shots of tequila, sliding two towards Lena and keeping two for herself.

Lena raises her brow but says nothing as she matches Maggie shot for shot without disgust.

“We see each other nearly everyday, surely you know more about my life than I’d like,” Lena teases.

“Perhaps…What’s the deal with you and Sinclair?”

“What’re you a detective?”

“Only on TV, but c’mon, spill. We all saw that ad-lib the other day.”

Lena blushes, “She told me she loved me, yes.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Did you say it back?”

Lena doesn’t reply nor does Maggie need her to, the look on her face says it all.

“So how does Kara feel about her?” Maggie asks, not so subtly steering the conversation, she’s got a bet to win after all.

“You know, I’m not quite sure. She acts like she’s fine with it but ever since Veronica’s been around she’s just been…I don’t know, distant?”

“Does that bother you?”

“Would it bother you if your best friend didn’t seem keen on Alex?”

“Point taken,” Maggie says pouring them both another shot.

“She’s just…How long have you known Kara?”

“Long time,” Maggie replies. “I’ve known Alex since we were in high school, the Danvers’ adopted Kara when we were Sophomores.”

“She’s adopted?”

“It’s not exactly something she likes to talk about, but yeah.”

Lena’s brows furrow with a sense of frustration beginning to flow through her but all thoughts are lost the second Kara and Alex join them in the kitchen.

“Well look at you, Little Danvers,” Maggie grins sliding her a shot. “Looks like someone is totally going to get -“

“Maggie!”

“Babe!”

Lena laughs, a knot churning in her stomach but still, she pushes it aside.

“Luthor, if you’re done staring now we’d like to down these shots and get outta here,” Maggie teases and Lena whips her head to her co-star so quickly in embarrassment she misses the obvious crimson on Kara’s cheeks.

“To girls night!”

xx

“Miss Luthor, welcome back,” greets the bouncer at one of the hottest night clubs in National City as he opens the door to the club’s VIP area.

A bottle of Scotch and a bottle of champagne are already waiting for the girls and neither of them waste a second filling up their glasses and making their way to the dance floor.

An EDM version of one of Dua Lipa’s songs is blasting through the speakers as the lights dim and begin flashing in an array of colors. Lena, always the bold one, grabs Kara’s hand and spins her so eloquently before pulling her back in and swaying her body to the beat. Kara gulps and if it weren’t for the lighting everyone within a mile’s radius would see the blush across her face.

“How is it I’ve never seen you in this before?” Lena yells, gesturing to Kara’s outfit, a fitted black dress with just enough cleavage to remain classy.

“Never had a reason to I guess,” Kara replies as she takes the lead and takes her turn to spin Lena, only as Lena reels back in she places her hands around Kara’s neck and dances closer. For a moment they lock eyes, Kara swears she’s in slow motion with the way Lena’s eyes flit down to her lips and bites on her own, but then the beat changes and their rhythm falters slightly.

Lena takes the opportunity to take control of the situation, a hand on Kara’s waist, gently pulling her in, the other around Kara’s neck guiding her to follow her movements, which Kara doesn’t hesitate to do.

It’s getting hot, too hot and while Kara knows this isn’t doing anything to help her crush, she does nothing to stop it.

A sudden grip on her arm snaps her out of her trance, it’s Alex looking tipsier than when they arrived and she’s motioning to get another drink. Kara nods in agreement and instinctively grabs Lena to follow her. She swears she’s never felt softer hands.

Back in their booth Kara pours herself another glass of champagne and heads to the private balcony excusing herself to get some air. Maggie pours another round of shots and instantly loses herself in Alex’s eyes, leaving Lena to make herself busy.

“Hey, you,” Lena calls out to her roommate.

“Having fun?”

“With you? Always,” Lena smiles.

“What’s Veronica up to tonight?” Kara asks hoping to divert the conversation away from herself.

“Probably out at whatever LA club has been named the latest hot spot,” Lena chuckles, taking a sip of her Scotch.

“That doesn’t bother you?” Kara asks, suddenly regretting her question when she sees Lena tense up.

“Do you think I should be bothered?” Lena asks the annoyance fairly obvious.

“No, I’m sorry, I just…I guess I don’t know much about her other than what you’ve told me from the past,” Kara replies.

“If you don’t like her, you know you can tell me, right? I won’t be upset.”

Kara debates actually coming clean right then and there. Laying it all out and telling her how she feels. There’s a glint in Lena’s eyes daring her to say it but she chalks it up to cloudy champagne judgement and smiles instead.

“She makes you happy Lena, that’s all I want for my best friend.”

Lena smiles, looping her arm through Kara’s as they look out at the skyline.

“Thanks, Kara. She does.”

xx

Lena returns to the dance floor with her friends leaving Kara to her thoughts.

Kara texts the front office saying she’ll accept the first apartment available.

xx

It’s a blur, it really shouldn’t be but after her chat on the balcony with Lena, she made sure to keep her distance and maybe drink a bit more than she usually does. Images of a red dress, grabby hands and needy lips flash through Kara’s mind when she wakes. Her head is throbbing and there’s a distinct sound of something buzzing on the ground.

She finally finds it and winces as the brightness from her phone only adds to the pain of her hangover. Kara swipes away the usual, social media notifications, work emails and then finds a slew of messages and missed calls from her friends.

Alex (11:39 pm): Please tell me you’re safe.

Alex (11:42 pm): I mean it Kara, please don’t make me explain to Mom how I lost you at a club!

Maggie (11:45 pm): Ignore your sister, getchu some Little Danvers!

Maggie (11:46 pm): ;)

Alex (11:49 pm): Okay, gross. Maggie just filled me in…use protection see you tomorrow!

Lena (11:50 pm): Hey - Alex and Maggie told me you went home with someone. Just be safe okay? I can come pick you up in the morning if you want. Or now ever. Just let me know?

Lena (11:53 pm): It was really great to spend time with you last night.

Maggie (11:59 pm): Lena’s being a pouty mcpout face in the Uber after we told her you ran off with someone!!!

Maggie (12:00 am): I’m just saying maybe she’s into you too! Omg how cute would that be!!

Alex (12:00 am): I’m taking Maggie’s phone away now. Okay, bye!

Kara groans, wanting to bury her head under her pillow but stopping when she realizes she’s not home. She’s…well, she’s somewhere and at least she’s alone. She quickly dresses, grabs her clutch and tiptoes out of the room. She’s half way to the front door when she hears someone slightly laugh behind her.

“Well, hello there.”

Kara half debates running the rest of the way out but her politeness wins out as she turns to face her host.

“Hi.”

“Leslie.”

“Leslie…Leslie! Right! I…I remember!”

The blonde laughs, “Listen, I’m going to save you the embarrassment because I’m pretty sure I was just as drunk as you last night, so how about I pour you a cup of coffee?”

Kara relaxes, “That would be really great, thank you.”

It’s not as awkward as she thinks it’ll be. Leslie’s a sweet girl and actually hosts her own radio show with CatCo. Kara fills her in on her line of work and she’s relieved that the other girl doesn’t ask much else.

“So listen,” Leslie starts. “I don’t…I don’t normally do things like I did last night. I’m just getting out of a relationship and…”

“I totally get it. Truth be told, I actually have feelings for someone else and I…I don’t know what got into me.”

Leslie smiles, “Well I’m glad we’re on the same page then.”

xx

Kara’s relieved to know Leslie’s isn’t too far from her own home, well Lena’s home, and then it hits her. Her text to the front office.

“Shit.”

Kara half jogs, half walks back to Lena’s and when she steps into the elevator she feels a rush of…guilt and she can’t seem to shake it. She reminds herself, she owes Lena nothing, she has nothing to be ashamed of, plus it was just one night. She’s an adult.

The bell dings snapping Kara out of her trance, she takes a deep breath and enters the apartment. She shouldn’t be surprised to find Lena sitting on the couch when she walks in but she is. It’s a beautiful yet eerie sight. The sun perfectly hits Lena’s dark hair making them look a magnificent shade of espresso, her eyes are a dark emerald and Kara swears she’s never seen anything so amazing and yet, there’s something off. Instead of the soft sounds of the TV playing in the background there’s silence and instead of Lena’s warm smile there’s a frown.

“Lena?”

“Courier came this morning, said you need to call them by noon to secure the apartment.”

Lena points to a manila envelope with a stamp from the production company addressed to Kara.

“Lena, I can exp-“

“You better respond, it’s nearly noon.”

With that Lena stands and silently passes Kara on the way to her room, locking herself in there for the remainder of the day.

xx

Kara didn’t sleep a wink that night. What started out as casual girls night out turned into a hot mess of a one night stand and then Lena. Disappointing Lena. Kara respected her need for space, she paced in her own room for what felt like hours and sometimes felt brave enough to even pace down to Lena’s bedroom but then reminding herself she doesn’t owe her anything, if anything Lena’s overreacting.

It’s during one of her middle of the night paces that Lena’s door finally opens and finds herself face to face with the blonde.

“Kara, I’m really not in the mood for this, it’s 3 am. I came out here to tell you to go to bed.”

“Lena, hi - no, we need to talk about this. I need to talk about this because this isn’t…” she sighs a frustrated groan. “I’m not doing this right.”

“How about you start with why you’re moving out? Is it because of Veronica because I thought things were better between you two.”

“No, it’s nothing to do with Veronica.” Lie. “I just don’t really want to cramp your style, I’ve put you out enough.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“Now you’re lying and being chlidish. Crinkle, remember?” Lena’s frustrated and moves into the living room settling into her leather reading chair and wrapping a blanket around her. Kara taking the hint, takes a seat on the couch across from her.

“What did I do, Kara?” Lena barely whispers and Kara’s heart aches.

“You didn’t, you didn’t do anything Lena, I’m just…”

“Spit out Kara!” It comes out with more bite than she intended but it does the trick because Kara’s responding in full force.

“I like you, okay? I like you and I can’t live with you.”

Lena’s face drops, clearly not expecting that response and it only makes Kara cringe even more.

“I’m just going to go,” Kara replies unable to hide her reaction.

“No, Kara, wait,” Lena reaches forward and pulls Kara back down to her seat. “I’m sorry, you just took me by surprise, I didn’t even know you liked, girls?”

“As gay as they come,” Kara laughs.

“So last night, you went home with…”

“A girl, you can say it,” Kara laughs. “Listen, it’s just a stupid crush, okay? I promise it won’t change anything, I just think it’s time I got my own place.”

Lena studies her for a minute, searching for something but she comes up short.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m sorry I overreacted earlier, it just came out of nowhere and I thought it was maybe because of what we talked about on the balcony last night and I’m sure this was a bit more dramatic in my head.”

“I’d be upset if I were in your shoes too.”

They smile at each other for a hot second, both feeling light as if a weight’s been lifted off their shoulders and then suddenly the moment passes.

“So where’d they end up placing you?”

“Funny thing about that…”

xx

“Did you really need us to help you move?” Alex scoffs as she tosses a bag of Kara’s clothes into an empty corner.

“Babe, be nice,” Maggie replies giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek before setting down a box of Kara’s belongings.

“I mean she’s literally moved next door,” Alex continues to complain. “Why isn’t Lena helping?”

“It’s Tuesday, she’s picking Veronica up from the airpot,” Kara replies emerging from the hallway. Truthfully, Kara could have moved in the weekend after she got the apartment but Lena asked her to stay until Veronica came back and Kara found it difficult to say no.

“Oh,” Alex mutters.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Kara replies, dusting off her record player that she pulled from storage from Eliza’s, with a smile.

“Alex - why don’t you finishing packing the last of the boxes at Lena’s and I’ll start helping Kara unpack.” Alex nods leaving them alone and Kara already knows what’s coming.

“I’m serious, I’m fine.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Maggie replies unpacking a few books.

“Has she said anything to you?” Kara asks.

“Lena? No. I think she knows better than to ask me of all people.”

For a while there’s nothing but the sound of items being rearranged in the living room until Maggie speaks again.

“Alright Baby Danvers, I’m going to be honest with you.”

Kara groans and Maggie smiles.

“You already know you’re like a sister to me, quite frankly I can’t wait to make it official,” she smiles as she looks at her engagement ring. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to get soft on you. Alex, she worries about you, she baby’s you. You know I’m not going to do that.”

Kara stops what she’s doing and pulls her knees to her chest giving Maggie her undivided attention.

“You have one of the kindest hearts I know. After what you went through, I don’t know a lot of people, especially kids, who’d be able to come back the way you have. So when I see you doing something like admitting your feelings and confronting Lena like that head on, I know how much it’s taking a toll on you.”

“Maggie, it’s just a crush, it won’t be like last time.”

Maggie hesitates in her reply knowing Kara’s being very calculated in her replies and she needs to get the conversation back to familiar territory so she puts on her best face, she’s an actress after all, and brings it back home.

“Listen, you know I’m not one for being a sap but Alex and I are really proud of you for moving back here. Taking this job and now living on your own. We just hope you know that and we love you, always.”

Kara lifts her head to look at her soon-to-be sister-in-law with glossy eyes but she shifts her feelings and smiles.

“You’re such a sap Maggie Sawyer,” Kara replies throwing a pillow in Maggie’s face and immediately things are back to normal.

xx

Books are stacked neatly in the bookshelf, plates and cups are stowed away, a wooden piano sits in a corner near the floor to ceiling windows and everything feels like home.

Almost.

She can’t sleep. She knows why. She doesn’t want to admit it but she knows why.

Tuesday becomes the first night Kara sleeps without the promise of seeing Lena in the morning.

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Blame Mikaela!

Note: This was something that came to my mind after having watched a handful of videos on YouTube where girls try and catfish their boyfriends. The ones I have seen all end the same way. The guy knows that his girlfriend is pranking them but goes along with it just to mess with her. I figured that I would turn this into an imagine where the reader does this to Taron while he's on set in South Africa (Just a random location I came up with). The catch is that while on breaks, he has been watching these videos on YouTube, so when Y/N does this to him, he decides to tease her and get her back.

If you like this, let me know.

===

Taron had been away on location for about three months and Y/N was really missing him but of course with him having to have an onscreen girlfriend, there were rumours going around that he and Y/N had ended their relationship and he had moved on to dating his gorgeous co-star, Camille Hamilton. There were pictures of them together and Y/N couldn't help but feel a little self-consious and like a fish out of water.  Taron's co-star was tall, had long wavy blonde hair, big blue eyes and beautifully tanned skin. Y/N was not as tall, curvier, had non-wavy shoulder length aburn hair and dull brown eyes or so she thought. 

One night as she and her friend Mikaela were binge watching Game Of Thrones, Mikaela got this bright idea. "If you really want to test his loyalty to you, I know what you can do." Mikaela replied with a smirk. Y/N looked at the other woman in question. "What are you talking about?" Y/N asked. "Oh come on Y/N. I've seen the pictures of Camille and Taron and I also know that you struggle with how you look. You are beautiful and if you really want to test just how loyal he is, meet me at my house for lunch tomorrow and we can do this together." Mikaela proposed. "Do what together?" Y/N asked. "Catfish your boyfriend to see what he does." Mikaela replied as she turned her attention back to the large tv screen. Y/N rolled her eyes but deep down, thought that this was a good idea.

The next day, Y/N sat on Mikaela's sofa with your phone in hand. "Ok, first thing is first. We need to create a fake account, so hand over your phone and I'll do it." Mikaela explained as Y/N reluctantly gave Mikaela her phone. "What if he falls for it? I can't loose him." Y/N replied softly. "Take a deep breath. Taron won't do that to you. He loves you and it's obvious." Mikaela said with a warm smile. Y/N took a deep breath. "Don't use Instagram though. He doesn't really look at his messages on there. Use Whatsapp or something like that." Y/N explained as Mikaela nodded her head but ignored her friend. Mikaela typed away and before you knew it, she had created a fake account on Instagram. "Why Instagram? I told you that he doesn't really read messages from there." You asked. "I know. Just go with it ok?" Mikaela said whilst rolling her eyes as she followed a few pages, added a couple people as friends and uploaded some photos of a random girl to make it look more legit. When it was done, she gave Y/N her phone back. Y/N typed his name in the search bar and found his profile and tapped the message button. "Here goes nothing." Y/N breathed out.

"Ok, what should I say?" Y/N asked her friend. "Start off by saying hi and then send him a wink." Mikaela said. "I hate this already." Y/N said as She typed. Y/N hit send and the girls waited. "I hope he doesn't reply." Y/N said. "Chill, If he does, it's ok cause you only said hi." Mikaela replied. "Yeah, with a wink." Y/N said as she playfully shoved her friend. A few minutes went by and when the girls looked at the phone, they saw that he was typing. Y/N's smile faultered. 'Hello.' Taron replied. What Y/N didn't realize was that Taron had been watching catfishing videos on YouTube on his breaks and had a feeling that his girlfriend was currently trying  to catfish him. He went along with it just to see what she would do in return.

"What now?" Y/N asked. "No clue." Mikaela said twiddling her thumbs. 'I must say, you are cute.👀' Y/N replied. 'Just cute?😉' Taron typed quickly whilst smirking to himself. Y/N's heart started beating faster as she read that. "What did he say?" Mikaela asked. "He asked just cute with a wink." Y/N responded softly with her head down. "Give me the phone, I'll do it." Mikaela offered but Y/N declined and started typing again. 'I thought sexy would be too forward👅' Y/N replied. Y/N placed the phone down for a second and as she did, her phone dinged with an alert. Mikaela picked up the piece of technology. "He followed you and is liking the pictures I put on there." She replied as Y/N stood up and walked to the kitchen for water. 'I'm not the sexy one here. hot damn, you're smoking hot🔥🔥🔥🔥' Taron at this point was laughing at this. "What are you laughing at?" Taron's co-star Camille asked as she sat next to him. "My girlfriend is trying to catfish me." Taron replied with a smile. "Like those videos that are trending right now?" Camille asked again. Taron nodded and showed the woman the texts. "My husband tried to do the same thing to me but he failed miserably." Camille replied as they laughed and continued on with pranking Y/N.

"What are you going to say to that?" Mikaela asked as Taron replied with 'I'd tap that. Let's hook up' Y/N typed frantically. 'You should know that I'm more of a threesome type but for you, I'll make an exception😉' 'Fuck!' Taron replied as Camille laughed. "Does she know that you are coming home tonight?" Camille asked. "She has no idea." He replied. "You should buy her some flowers and some other special things so that she knows that you're sorry for this." Camille suggested. "I was planning on that doing anyway but thanks." Taron said as they continued to wait for their plane. The movie they were filming had wrapped early and Taron was excited to get home and give Y/N the one gift that she had been wanting for a long time.

Meanwhile, Y/N was thinking of what to say next. 'Let's meet at your trailer and I'll give you the time of your life💦💦' She typed with shaky hands as her eyes grew glossy. 'Let's meet at yours instead. I'll just tell my girlfriend that I'm busy filming tonight. Send me a pic🍆' Taron wrote. Mikaela looked at her friend and Y/N's face paled. "What did he say Mick?" Y/N asked feeling sick to her stomach. "Um." Her friend stuttered. "That bad?" Y/N asked finally letting her tears fall. "He asked for a pic and he is wanting to meet up tonight and he said that he'd tell you that he was busy filming tonight and wouldn't be able to talk to you." Mikaela explained. Y/n sobbed. She felt betrayed and absolutely heartbroken. "Should I send him a picture?" Mikaela asked. "Leave him on read. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm going home to pack my things." Y/N replied. "Let me take you and I'll help you." Mikaela said as she stood and hugged her beyond broken friend.

=

The plane ride for Taron was agony. He had been left on read and he knew that he had gotten to Y/N. The only problem was that he didn't know just how much he had hurt her. When the plane had landed, Taron rushed home to surprise his girlfriend. As he walked to the front door, he could hear Y/N and Mikaela's voices. he stood there trying to listen the best he could. "Should I stay and talk to him?" Y/N asked. "Babes, you saw it." Mikaela said. "But I love him." Y/N cried as she slumped on the floor of the living room with her back to the front door. "Take a breather and I'll take these bags to my car." Mikaela said as Y/N nodded slowly. Mikaela pulled open the front door and her eyes landed on Taron. She didn't say anything but raised her brow at him. She walked out of the flat. "Take this and come with me. Just leave your stuff against the wall." Mikaela whispered and Taron did just that. 

"You have some nerve you know." Mikaela chided once they had reached her car. "Mikaela, I knew." Taron replied. "What tipped you off?" She asked. "You two are rather stupid you know. The catfish videos are trending and I've been watching them. You really think I'd do something that low?" Taron responded. Mikaela nodded her head slowly as she let the man's words process. "You have a lot of making up to do man." She said dramatically. "How bad is she?" He asked. "You screwed up. Go to her and I'll take these to my house and I'll see you fuckers tomorrow." Mikaela said as she pointed to Y/N's bags. Taron nodded and ran off to his girlfriend. Mikaela shook her head and went back to her flat.

Y/N was now laying face down on the sofa still crying softly. Taron walked up to her and gently placed his hand on her back. "Go away Taron." Y/N said not realizing what she had said. After a few seconds, it clicked. She jumped up and she stormed toward their shared bedroom. She slammed the door in Taron's face. Taron knocked on the door gently but when he didn't get a reply, he got an idea. He leaned against the door and started singing 'lonesome tonight' by Elvis but of course he changed the words slightly to match the situation. Y/N laid on the bed with her eyes closed and listened to him sing as it always calmed her down and made her feel safe.  He knew exactly what he was doing. Taron stopped singing. "Can you open the door for me darling?" He questioned. "I don't want to see you." Y/N stated. "Well, how about you open the door with your eyes closed." He suggested. Y/N huffed, walked to the door and put her hand over her eyes and opened the only thing separating her from her current problem. "That wasn't so hard was it?" Taron questioned quietly as he pulled her hands away from her face. Her eyes were shut as well and he smiled to himself. 

"You are so stupid darling. I knew what you were doing Y/N. I can't believe that you would fall for that and I can't believe you don't trust me." He explained as more tears fell down her face. "Why didn't you just say that you knew it was me? I have seen pictures of you and that woman together. Do you know how insecure I felt? I wanted to see if you would stay loyal to me and what you did to me cut me really deep. Please just leave me alone for a while." Y/N said as she pushed him out of the room and went to shut the door again. "You want to know what I had in mind for tonight?" Taron asked as he held the door open. She sighed and gave into him. "Let me guess. You wanted to surprise me, bed me and tell me all the bullshit about how you missed me?" Y/N snapped, finally having enough. Taron shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a ring box. No, it wasn't an engagement ring but it was a ring to symbolize that he would one day marry her. "While you were catfishing me, Camille came and sat next to me and asked what I was doing and I told her. She told me that her husband had recently done the same thing to her. I realized that after this, you may need something to prove that I'm never leaving you and that I would never cheat on you." Taron explained as Y/N slowly opened her eyes and glared at him.

"I remembered the ring you told me about and I managed to track it down and I wanted to surprise you with it." He said opening the box. Y/N's breath hitched and she looked at him and finally let a smile grow on her lips. "I'm not proposing to you right now but I wanted to make a promise to you that I will love nobody the way I love you and that I will one day marry you. I'm sorry I made you feel the way you do now but I want you to know that it hurt me when you did that to me because it made me feel like you didn't trust me. I want us to trust each other and be secure in our relationship." Taron explained. Y/N threw her arms around Taron's neck. "I love you so much T." Y/N said. Taron pulled away just enough to lower his head and kiss her sweetly. 

In that moment, Y/N knew that Taron loved her and she knew that she was being silly by feeling the way she did. She wanted to trust Taron and this was a good lesson learned for both of them. "I can't believe you cat fished me." Taron giggled. "Blame Mikaela." Y/N laughed as they walked back to the living room hand in hand and enjoyed their night😏😉

===

*Sorry for the grammatical errors any other mistakes that may be in this imagine.*

I hope that you liked this and if you did, please tell me the part that you enjoyed the most.

Tag List: @anywaythewind13lows @tarononeshots

[kthyunngg]

When Stars Align | Two

Member: Jungkook

Genre: Angst, fluff, long distance relationship

Word Count: 2.0 k

Summary: You were only going to South Korea as a little present for yourself. Nothing more than that, but when a stranger drops his phone and then becomes your seat mate on the plane, all your plans to be a tourist in another country changes. (lol i suck at summaries) 

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the first one as it is a filler chapter. I hope you enjoy it though :) (and thanks for the great response to the first part) 

✩ One | Three | Four ✩

Today is the day.

Your pounding heart is loud compared to the monotonous buzz of the crowd. The bags under your eyes are as deep as the holes left in your heart. From the time of last night’s situation until the now, the kiss keeps replaying in your mind. Jungkook’s touch is still as vibrant as it was in the hotel lobby.

He didn’t leave. He insisted that he should take you to the airport the next morning, despite the early time for your flight. You didn’t object his offer; a part of you did want him to leave though. The pain from leaving Jungkook after an amazing month was already too much to bear, but last night makes everything ten times worse.

Last night was the most painful thing you had to go through. It was already late at night by the time the two of you settled in your hotel bed. Jungkook brought you into his arms, not letting go of you once, in fear that you might leave. Minimal words were said because of the pain both of you were feeling.

“You should sleep Y/N. You’re going to be really tired tomorrow.” Jungkook says softly when he notices that you’re still awake.

“I…I don’t want to. It’s the last day and…” The words are heavy on your tongue. It’s the last day that you get to be with Jungkook. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say and simply nods. He lets you go and turns to his side. You do the same so you can see his face. The room is only light up by one of the lamps on the side of the bed, but enough to allow you to see Jungkook’s face clearly.

You bring your hand up timidly and begin to trace the outline of his face. Your finger barely touches his skin, but you still feel little flickers of fire underneath your finger. As you’re doing so, Jungkook cups your face softly and massages little circles on your cheek with his thumb. You don’t want this moment to end.

Your flight it at 10 AM, meaning that you’ll have get to the airport at 7. You wanted more time. A month wasn’t enough. It was too short. With the few hours you have left, you’re trying to savour everything, but it’s still not enough. Time seems to be passing quicker than ever and you hated it. It’s not enough.

Your eyes betray you and let out the second batch of tears that you’ve been trying to hold in. Jungkook wipes them away with his thumb and you notice that his eyes are also brimming with tears. He’s trying to hold them in, and he’s definitely more successful than you are.

“Don’t cry Y/N, it’s going to be alright.” Jungkook places his hands on your waist and pulls you close to him. You bury your face into his chest and quietly sob as he paints lines against your back. Without realizing, you fall into a slumber and now you’re standing in the airport.

You stare blankly at the counters where you’re supposed to check in. The moment you walk behind those counters and into customs, you can’t turn back. The clock is ticking, but you’re left unmoving. You’re ready to just miss the flight and delay your trip back home as much as possible, but you know that Jungkook won’t let you.

“Y/N, you should go or else you’ll be late.” Behind the cheerful facade he’s putting up, you can see the despair in his eyes.

Afraid that you’ll start crying, you hug Jungkook. Truly a bittersweet moment. Maybe more bitter     than it is sweet. You wrap your arms tightly around Jungkook and he does the same. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and you feel his warm breath tingling against your skin. You don’t care if people are staring at the two of you. You don’t care if time is passing and the doors are starting to close. You only care about this, whatever this is.

Jungkook is the first to pull away. He looks at the time and then frowns.

“You really have to go now or else you’ll miss the plane..” You let out a sigh of defeat. The pain is a lot, but you also have a life you have to return to.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Usually when either of you said “let’s go” it was out of excitement to embark on a new adventure, but today, these words are the exact opposite.

Jungkook helps you with your bags as you check into your flight and once everything is sorted out, you’re ready to head into the long tedious processes of going through security.

“I guess this is it.” You look at Jungkook. This may be the last in a long while before you get to look at him like this.

“Yeah…I guess it is…” You can tell Jungkook is at a loss for words. This whole time he’s been trying to comfort you, but at the same time, he’s probably going through the same pain as you are.

“I’ll message you when I arrive. We can Skype. We’ll work out the time differences and —”

“Yeah, let’s do that.” Jungkook stops you and gives you a sincere smile. “There’s more people heading in now. You should go too.” He points out the sudden surge of people who are checking into the flight.

“Yeah…I guess this is g-goodbye…” The word is difficult to say.

“Yeah…” Jungkook is still holding onto your hands with a tight grip, but you know you have to leave now.

“Okay…I guess I’ll be going now…” You slowly remove your hands from his and pick up your carry on bag. You look at Jungkook for a while.

His hair is fluffy, his shoulders are slightly slumped, and he puts on a smile. He pulls you into one last hug and you feel as he lets out a heavy breath.

“Goodbye Y/N.” He whispers into your ear.

Without thinking, you cup his face and stand on your toes to kiss him. Not a peck, a kiss. You’re unclear as to what your relationship with him is, but that doesn’t matter. If you don’t do this now, you don’t know when your next chance will be.

The kiss is slow. Slow and passionate. You pour all emotions into it and you know Jungkook does as well. You taste the saltiness of tears, unsure if they’re yours or Jungkook’s but it doesn’t matter. He holds your waist to support you in case you get tired from standing on your toes. Jungkook begins to kiss you harder, as if it’s his last day to live. You’re not sure how much time passes, but you pull away first.

“I really should go now…” You quickly dry your eyes and look at Jungkook. He nods. “Goodbye.” You turn away, but Jungkook grabs your hand. You don’t turn around in fear that once you do, you won’t be able to turn back.

“Goodbye Y/N.” He says just loud enough for you to hear. You pause for a moment, but then walk away slowly. His grip on your hand loosens and soon enough you’re on your own. No longer engulfed by the warmth that he radiated.

From the time you left Jungkook to the time you boarded the plane, everything was a blur. Your eyes felt heavy from the crying and lack of sleep, but your heart felt heavier. Unlike the first time you flew on a plane, you didn’t become friends with your seat mate. They had their headphones on and you were currently in search for yours. While rummaging through your bag, you notice a pale purple envelope. You don’t remember seeing anything like it so you take it out to see what it is.

To Y/N

The front of the envelop reads.

Your curiosity peaks and you open the purple paper. Inside is a postcard and a few photos. The moment you take a good look at the photos, tears are forming in your eyes. They’re some selfies that you took with Jungkook during your visit.

One of them is on your first full day in Korea where Jungkook took you to the heart of Seoul. You found some extremely silly hats and forced Jungkook to wear a matching one. The second is when the two of you were at the zoo, posing with some monkeys that you absolute adored. The third picture is on your last day in Korea. You assume it’s when you’re on your way to Busan since you’re fast asleep on Jungkook’s shoulder meanwhile he makes a silly face.

You look at the photos for a while and then flip over the postcard, one of those generic ones that you can buy at souvenir stores, and read what it says.

Y/N, if you’re reading this then you’re most likely already on the plane. It also means that I finally found the courage to express how I feel. I have to admit, when I first saw you, I thought you were going to be another one of those annoying seats mates, but boy I was so wrong. That 10 hour flight was the shortest I’ve ever experienced and so was this month. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me feel like a whole new different person. The way you smile, the way you admire ever small detail, the way you would double take everything because you can’t believe what you’re seeing, everything you do is so amazing. I wish I could say this to you in person, but I couldn’t keep you from returning to your country. I really hope this isn’t the last time I talk or see you. I really do like you Y/N, more than I can probably handle, but you bring out the good in me. Thank you.

Jungkook

This is unfair. Jungkook can’t just tell you this through a postcard when you’re about to leave the country. What you thought was going to be a peaceful flight back became the worst ten hours of your life.

~

Jungkook, I saw your postcard. The past month has been amazing for me and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, but now we’re halfway across the world from each other. Stuff like this only works in movies and the perfect world and we’re not in either of those. I’m sorry.

You send that to him as soon as you get off the plane. You spent your entire flight trying to play out the circumstances and you came to the conclusion that this is it. You admit, you did fantasize about a working long distance relationship, but even with all the patience and strength in the world, it’s just not realistic. There’s no way that this will work out.

However, deep down you did want it to work out. You wanted to know what it’s like to stay up late while skyping for hours. You wanted to feel the joy of seeing someone after a long time. You wanted to experience the giddiness of finally buying that plane ticket that you saved up for. The excitement of cleaning up your apartment to make it look nice he comes to visit after a long time. Somewhere inside of your wanted to experience all that, but now you’ve just eliminated that chance in your life. Fantasies will stay that way; locked up in your mind, only to relive when you’re up for it.

You’re back at your apartment and reality still hasn’t quite hit you yet. You’re back to your student life, constantly buried underneath books and papers instead of venturing off in the world. You’re going to spend many sleepless nights trying to finish papers instead of talking to someone about your day. The colourful skies were left behind in Korea and you’re back to your monotonous lifestyle.

Just then your phone lights up.

I’m up for the challenge if you are. I hope this isn’t the end for us.

[weloseeveryweek]

my football day

I was thinking of my football day, especially now that the season is over, and whether I have any rituals and somewhere along the way realized that each version started and ended with my jersey. So bear with me as I talk about this seemingly cliche topic, literally the most obvious answer in many ways when one thinks about this topic.

You see I’m not a person of many rituals. I have patterns of how and where I watch my games, what I do beforehand sure, but they are in part a function of circumstance. How early the game is, where I am physically (and mentally) on that day and whether Fubo has the game – none of it set in stone. Nothing that will feel too out of place if I skip as long as I’m watching the game one way or the other.

Except when it comes to my jerseys and there I’ve realized I have a ton of rituals and arbitrary rules that are nonetheless quite strict. While thinking about what I was going to write for this prompt I realized two things. For one I was adhering to these rules without exactly thinking about it for quite a while and also that in some way the jersey is the closest that comes to a sacred object for me, but more about that later. For this very reason I love hearing about how other fans connect to their jerseys too? The similarities and the differences.

I need to see the game in a jersey for sure. Hence a couple of days before the game I need to make sure that the jersey is clean. It’s the one thing that makes me do laundry midweek without uttering a long string of expletives, this, and I also quite enjoy carefully turning my jersey inside out, putting it in the wash, always in cold water, and then carefully hanging it to dry, the damp fabric soft under my hands, a ritual of care that I hope minimizes the wear and tear.

For similar reasons the jersey is not to be worn on non-match days. I absolutely love having the United crest over my heart, it gives me courage and strength and like even on a shitty day I can run my hand over the embroidery and it makes me feel just that bit better, instantaneously. But that is why I have regular team articles of clothing collected over time from various stores, just so that I can go around with that crest over my heart without inflicting additional tear to my dear old jersey. (There are of course those days where I break this rule, where the additional wear is worth the additional bit of strength having that red fabric gives me to carry me through whatever unhappiness the day may hold in store, but it’s a last resort of sorts.)

This makes no sense, by the way, and it’s not something I told many people about because the crest kind of acts like a cross worn around my neck and why should a piece of football garb fulfill the role of a religious artifact? When the club is a profit making institution and it neither knows nor cares about me? It makes no sense and yet it is.

You can just get a new jersey, yeah? I can also hear you asking and the answer is well yes I suppose so but also no. Because it’s not any old jersey I’m talking about and I’m very particular about what I get to call /my jersey./ Like if you wanted to be exceptionally cruel you would gift me twenty original jerseys tomorrow one for each season or one for each player in the squad with the condition that I keep them all and I’d break down in tears because there would be no way I’d be able to *own* them all but as jerseys of my team they’d all deserve care and respect. God, I’m shuddering just thinking about it.

For me to *own* a jersey there is a bond that needs to develop. I really don’t like blank jerseys so to begin with it needs to carry the name and the number of a player I revere, someone who fights for the team and loves it like I do. For Manchester United that is Michael Carrick. I don’t know what it is, a promise (again to a man who could care less about my existence?), solidarity? And again I can’t wear the jersey of someone I’ve never toiled alongside with (if shouting at the TV from a pub counts as ‘toiling.’) I am dying to get a retro Gary Neville jersey but I’m not sure if I could ever put it on because I simply wasn’t there. I haven’t earned the right to it. Similarly getting the jersey of someone who just came to the team is out of question, because in a way the person whose jersey I’m getting needs to earn my respect too.

Then I need to wear it in, wear it week in week out because the way I see it everything that happens on the pitch when I have that jersey on gets stitched into the fabric. My first ever (I mean I only have two, but…) United jersey, Carrick’s from last season, was on me in every home game I went to last year. When my ass was freezing at Leigh watching the U21s because I did not estimate how cold it would get at night. When I sat in Edinburgh waiting for my train and screamed when Martial scored a last minute equalizer in the FA cup on the tiny screen of my phone. Or in the many games we let go at the last minute this year. When I had a cold and should have stayed at home but was screaming at the top of my lungs as the lads lifted the Big Vase. The list goes on and on.

That Carrick jersey has been through so much with me that it feels as though it sucked up the memories it witnessed to the point that now it’s made less of red polyester and more of joy and anxiety, the heartbreak, the love and even the horror my team made me feel. To me I realized (while it perhaps makes little sense to my fellow more sensible fans) the jersey is a physical manifestation of the covenant between me and my team. It’s a pledge I make to be by its side and in return it’s belonging to an idea bigger than myself and bigger than the eleven men currently running along in Old Trafford. I support Fenerbahce too for example but this year when I fell further and further apart from the team I could barely touch let alone put on my beloved Kuyt jersey, the Fener equivalent of Carrick. In many ways I felt, the team, or rather it’s fans, had failed me, and I had failed the team by not being there for them in glory and defeat. I cannot describe the rush of excitement when I finally reconnected enough to watch a random game that didn’t matter towards the end of the season and I could finally, finally put on my Kuyt jersey again.

Maybe I hope one day I can watch enough old games to convince myself I too get to rock a retro jersey, or more likely spend enough time with the team that 15/16 Carrick becomes *the* retro jersey I always rock with pride. In the meanwhile I need to get another jersey and wear my Rashy one more often because like no way I’m getting the Carrick jersey wear away before it’s time. It will be there with me when I’m 80.

Wow this got long and I don’t know…what to make of it myself? I’m strange as is that much I know, following these oddly specific rules about what is essentially a piece of fabric but perhaps football, our teams, make us do strange things as well.

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

Across Oceans (Part 2) - a Newt/Tina and Jacob/Queenie fic

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin

I’m sorry for the delay but I’ve had a lot going on! :/ I don’t know if I’ve finished the fic or if I should write another part? You’ll see what I mean at the end, but do be sure to leave your thoughts!

Story set in: mid/late October to early November in 1940

Phoenix – 22nd June 1931 – 9 (going on 10) Linnet – 13th January 1933 - 7 (nearly 8) Leo – 3rd March 1935 – 5 (going on 6)

(Miracle baby not born yet – Tina’s still in her early-stages of pregnancy!)

Tobias “Toby” – 15th October 1929 – 11 Daisy – 7th April 1931 – 9 (going on 10) Abel and Ruth (twins) – 20th November 1933 – 6/7 Elijah “Eli” – 28th January 1939 – 1 (nearly 2)

I’m trash for both couples. Writing these fics has given me such immeasurable joy and seeing everyone’s reactions to it too has given me so much happiness. Thank you <3

“Really, we can’t thank you guys enough…”

Newt waved his hand, shaking his head as he finished cutting a hunk of meat and threw the pieces into a bucket. “Don’t. It’s nothing, honestly – you’d have done the same for us, I’m sure.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” Jacob agreed without hesitating. “Absolutely, but…I think you might have just saved our family here, Newt. Are you sure the kids don’t mind sharing? ‘Cause we could probably find a hotel or something, honest-”

“No, the children don’t mind at all,” Newt assured him, and he couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Lin was actually rather excited at the prospect of seeing Daisy again – she’s had her room prepared for the last few days now, making sure it’s tidy and that there’s enough space. I’m just sorry that we can’t offer the children their own rooms.”

Now Jacob was shaking his head. “Nah, don’t worry about that – back home, Toby and Daisy had to share, and the twins were bunking in the same room as Eli. We were gonna need a new home soon anyways.”

It was clear he was upset about it, however; his bakery – his beloved bakery that he had worked so hard for – had been in New York, and that was where the family had called home for over a decade. Newt hoped his father could pull some strings with the Ministry and guarantee the new bakery for Jacob, because Newt knew it would make things seem slightly better that way.

“Well,” He muttered, lifting the bucket of raw meat. “Usually the children help me down here after tea, but I think they’re currently occupied playing in the garden with your children – if you don’t mind, I’d rather appreciate the help.”

Jacob’s face lit up noticeably as he took the bucket. “Oh, yeah, sure! This is for those Graphorn things, right?”

Newt nodded, smiling tightly. “Yes, well-remembered.”

As his friend left the shed, a new spring in his step, the Magizoologist found himself sighing in thought; it wasn’t fair that Jacob and Queenie had had to uproot their entire family, nor that all of the hard work put into the bakery was now for nought. Jacob had mentioned leaving the keys with Henry the shop-assistant, leaving him in charge, but it was uncertain as to how long that would last for – besides, no one could recreate Jacob’s baking, no matter how skilled they may have been.

He knew that Jacob and Queenie were both incredibly grateful that he and Tina had offered them a place to stay indefinitely – they’d never complain even if they were dissatisfied – but all the same it felt incredibly wrong that they’d been forced into this.

Meanwhile, Tina and Queenie had made themselves comfortable in the kitchen so that they could talk – it had been the first time they’d seen each other in over a year and a half, and it felt so good to just be able to sit and really talk.

Queenie hummed as she sat down with her coffee, a wide smile on her face. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you again, Teenie…it’s been far too long.”

“Yeah,” Tina agreed, pouring some tea for herself before moving to sit in the seat opposite. “I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

“I know,” Her sister sighed, and her smile faded quickly. “I was actually thinking of visiting anyway, but now… Well, it don’t matter anymore. How have you been, Teenie? You not drinking coffee?”

Tina shrugged, making herself comfortable as she came up with a reply – she didn’t need to, however, as Queenie’s mouth dropped open and her eyes shone.

“You’re…You and Newt…? Oh, Tina, I’m so happy for you!” She grasped her sister’s hand and squeezed tightly, looking absolutely thrilled. “You should’ve told me sooner!”

“We only just found out a few weeks ago,” She explained, somewhat sheepishly. “We didn’t want to go announcing it, you know? We wanted to make sure everything was going to be fine first.”

It had been more worry on her part than Newt’s, of course – he had wanted to announce it as soon as possible, ecstatic by the idea of another baby. Tina, on the other hand, had asked that they keep it to themselves for the time being: she’d been told that she shouldn’t have been able to get pregnant again, that her womb had become ‘inhospitable” thanks to a certain set of circumstances, and it seemed like a fair possibility that her ‘inhospitable womb’ wouldn’t be able to carry a baby to full-term now. Perhaps it wasn’t necessary to be so cautious, but she couldn’t help it.

Queenie just nodded, however, clearly having read all of these thoughts from her mind. “It’s gonna be okay, Teenie, don’t worry – I’m sure everything’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” Tina agreed quietly, forcing herself to smile. “Hopefully… I don’t know if you’re aware, but Newt’s planning to help Jacob acquire a new bakery; apparently there’s an available store in Beaminster, so he’s written to his father to try and reserve it for the future.”

“I heard Newt thinking something like that… Thank you,” Queenie said quietly, and she looked as though she truly meant it. “Jacob won’t admit it, but it killed him to leave the bakery – it was all he could think about on the way over. Don’t get me wrong, he’s glad that we’re all safe and that’s the most important thing – but he really is cut up about the bakery.”

Tina looked down at the table, going pink in the cheeks. “You should be thanking Newt, not me – he’s the one who came up with the idea. We just want you guys to try and feel at home…it’s not New York,” She admitted. “But it’s really very nice over here.”

“Yeah, it is…it’s real pretty,” Her sister agreed lightly, looking out of the kitchen window; they could see the silhouettes of their children playing together, blissful and unaware. “I think it’ll be great for the kids, you know…they had to play in the street before, and there was never a lot of room – I know they love the open space already.”

It was obvious that she missed America – that was all she knew, really, that was home for the Kowalski family. It was where their children had been born, where they’d married and lived together: England might have been nice, but it wasn’t their home.

“No,” Queenie sighed quietly, almost to herself. “It’s not…at least, not yet.”

A giggle and a bang sounded from down the corridor, and Newt couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to put Linnet and Daisy in the same bedroom?”

Tina huffed, flipping a page in her book. “You think? We’re moving them around tomorrow, no questions asked.”

“Oh, they’ll settle down eventually,” He brushed off, shaking his head. “It’s just because it’s new and exciting, that’s all. Give it a few days and they’ll probably resent having to share a room.”

Fuzzy jumped onto the bed, curling up next to Tina and letting out a disgruntled mewl; she smiled fondly at him, scratching him behind the ears. “I see you’re not a fan of the new arrangements then.”

The Kneazle purred in agreement, rubbing his head against her hand.

“I don’t think we’re going to have much luck moving them around, to be honest,” Her husband mused. “They’re quite happy the way they are – Leo especially, it would seem.”

Tina snorted to herself. “Yes, because he’s not sharing at all – he’s got a bedroom all to himself.”

Another loud thump sounded from down the hall followed by two loud squeals; Newt watched as his wife rolled her eyes, closing her book rather harshly and glowering at the wall.

“What are they doing?” She questioned, obviously annoyed. “It’s nearly eleven in the evening!”

“Well…if I’ve been hearing things correctly, it sounds like Linnet is telling stories and Daisy is either amused by them or absolutely terrified. It could be either.” He touched her shoulder. “Don’t be so irritated, love: they’re just overexcited at seeing each other again, that’s all.”

Tina sighed, reaching up to rub at her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry, it’s just…I’m tired and worried, that’s all. It’s been difficult at work lately – Crawford is nowhere near as lenient as Theseus was.”

She felt him freeze slightly at the mention of his brother – his brother who was still missing – and immediately felt guilty: it was a topic they tried their best to avoid, even months after the news.

“Sorry,” Tina murmured, linking their fingers together and turning to him. “I…I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, honestly,” He interrupted, though his voice was suddenly hoarse. “Let’s just get some sleep – it’s going to be a long day tomorrow, what with all of the children to deal with.”

Tina bit her lip as he turned away from her; she knew he was hurting, and she understood that, but she just wished he would talk to her about it sometimes, if only to vent his feelings and not hold them in. She was his wife, for goodness sake – surely he could trust her?

They’ll find Theseus soon, She told herself as she laid down, Fuzzy tucking himself underneath her arm, They’ll have to at some point – and he’ll be fine. He has to be.

The new bedroom felt strange – perhaps because it wasn’t really theirs, not really.

“At least it’s better than the boat,” Jacob muttered.

Queenie smiled weakly – the boat hadn’t been pleasant at all for any of them, but her husband had experienced seasickness halfway through the journey during a particularly rough afternoon. “Exactly. And it’s a nice room…it’s not gonna be forever,” She reminded him. “Just until we’ve got a place of our own again.”

They were silent for a few minutes, though it was clear that neither of them were any closer to sleeping, and it was only when Jacob rolled over in the bed as he sighed that she started to really hear his thoughts start to spill out.

I miss New York. It just ain’t the same here… Poor Queenie, and the kids, being forced to move ‘cause of me-

“Jacob, honey,” Queenie murmured loudly. “I can hear you thinking, remember? And how many times have I gotta tell you to stop thinking like that? This ain’t your fault at all, and if you keep thinking like that then I ain’t gonna share this bed with you.”

“I’m sorry,” He apologized hurriedly. “It’s just… You and the kids, you’re all magic and I’m not. I know you said you don’t care, and I get that, but I keep thinking that if I was then-”

“Then you wouldn’t be you and I wouldn’t love you,” She proclaimed without hesitation; after a moment, her eyes grew softer and she reached to touch his cheek. “Jacob, please don’t blame yourself. It hurts me when you do that.”

He looked only somewhat taken aback by this. “Really?” I don’t ever wanna hurt her…Jeez, what’s wrong with me? “Okay. Alright.”

She nestled into his side, and for a split second it felt like they were home again, back in New York and back in their own bed, just resting together as normal – but they weren’t, and they were both only too aware of that.

They were finally drifting off to sleep ten minutes later when a loud cry sounded from down the hall; Queenie was out of bed in an instant, heading for the door. “It sounds like Eli – I’ll get him before he wakes everyone else up.”

Eli’s crib had been set up in the smallest of the spare rooms in the house; it wasn’t very large at all, but it was enough for now. He was standing on top of the blankets when Queenie entered, eyes scrunched up and tears dripping down his cheeks as he wailed.

“Poor baby,” She whispered, lifting him up and cradling him to her chest. “I know…it’s strange, ain’t it? This new house and everything…it’s not like home, is it?”

Eli sniffled, burying his face into the soft satin of her slip; his fingers scrunched at the fabric tightly, clearly seeking comfort. Queenie shushed him gently, rocking him in her arms and smoothing down his dark hair in an attempt to coax him into sleep again – the last thing she wanted was for him to wake up the other children or her sister and Newt.

“Come on, baby, time to sleep,” She murmured, and she started to lower him back into the crib – when he realized, however, he cried out for her again. “No, Mama’s here, see? Mama’s still here…”

“Sleep Mama,” He babbled, clutching to her desperately. “Sleep w’ Papa.”

Queenie swayed on the spot with him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back; Eli’s thoughts were all over the place, she realized, for he was scared of being in this new house, scared he didn’t know anything, and he wanted to sleep with his parents because they were safe ­­– they were home. Her heart ached for him involuntarily.

“Alright, honey,” She agreed softly, turning for the door. “Just for tonight, just until you’re used to it.”

Jacob seemed slightly surprised when she re-entered their room with the toddler in her arms but didn’t question it; Eli scrambled on the bedspread when she put him down, immediately pushing himself against his father’s side and resting his head on his stomach.

“Just for tonight,” Queenie murmured, getting back into bed; she laid her hand on Eli’s back comfortingly. “He’s sleeping in his own bed tomorrow.”

Jacob didn’t mind – he didn’t need to say it, of course, because she knew just listening to his thoughts. “Okay, sure. Night, Eli.”

“Nigh’ Papa,” Eli yawned, snuggling up to his father.

The toddler was asleep within a minute, his breaths becoming even, and Queenie couldn’t help but sigh as she looked over him at her husband. “He misses home too – it just ain’t the same.”

“No,” Jacob agreed quietly. “But we’re safe here, right?” I’d rather they were safe; Queenie, the kids…so long as they’re safe, nothing else matters.

“Yes,” She found herself saying softly. “That’s all that matters now.”

An owl arrived at breakfast the next morning shortly after the children had eaten and retreated outside to play; Newt looked positively thrilled when he recognized it as one that belonged to his father, hurriedly pulling the letter from its leg and wincing when it hooted in indignation. “I’m sorry, Dante, I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“Dante?” Jacob repeated, looking somewhat dumbfounded.

Tina rolled her eyes affectionately. “You can see where Newt gets his awful naming skills from.”

Newt had quickly torn open the letter by this point and was scanning it eagerly. “Let me see…spoken to the Prewett family… Yes!” His face lit up, and he looked at the others sitting around the table. “No one’s bought the Prewett’s sweet shop yet – Father’s asked them to keep it reserved for us until further notice.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Queenie exclaimed, beaming at him. “Newt, that’s so thoughtful, honey – thank you!”

Jacob looked positively stunned. “You…You got me a sweet shop?”

“It’s a sweet shop at the moment,” Newt agreed, folding the letter and putting it in his waistcoat pocket. “But you could easily turn it into a new bakery. There’s a number of wizards living in Beaminster, so I’m sure they’d appreciate getting to try some of your creature pastries. Really, it’s the least I could do.”

There was a long silence that lingered in the air for a moment, punctuated only by the sounds of the children outside playing. Finally, Jacob sat back in his seat and looked at his friend with eyes that seemed to shine with tears. “Newt, buddy, you…you have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Oh, well it’s…it’s nothing really,” Newt dismissed, and his face seemed to go red. “Like I said, you’re my friend – our friend,” He amended, casting a look at Tina as she nodded. “And you’re family. We’re both more than happy to help in whatever way we can.”

Jacob still looked close to tears even as he nodded and tucked back into breakfast; Queenie sent her sister and brother-in-law a radiant smile. “We really appreciate it – thank you.”

All of the children had been positively thrilled when Newt asked for them to help him down in the case; his own children ran inside to go down there immediately, faces lit up and eager – the Kowalski children, however, had looked somewhat more unsure.

“Is it…safe?” Ruth asked, taking Abel’s hand and squeezing it.

Toby was the first to step forwards, giving his younger sister a smile. “’Course it is – Uncle Newt’s creatures are great, you’ll see!”

With that, the elder four (Eli did not go with them for it was his naptime, Queenie said – Newt suspected she was just slightly nervous about her children going down to visit these creatures) clambered down the steps of the case and into the shed; they all looked amazed when their uncle opened the door and they saw the number of magical creatures before them, impressed and awed. They followed behind him eagerly, listening to every word he spoke about the proper care of these creatures – even Ruth, who usually tended to dominate a conversation, was silent as she intently listened to everything he said.

“Daisy!” Linnet called when the Kowalski children had caught up, and she waved her hand to catch her cousin’s attention. “Come and meet Dougal!”

Daisy was positively amazed when a new creature materialised beside Linnet, peering at the new guests of the case in interest, and she stopped a few metres away to watch him. “He’s beautiful – what kind of beast is he?”

“He’s a Demiguise,” Linnet informed her, fondly beaming at Dougal as she stroked his fur. “He can see the future, you know – he doesn’t tell me what he sees, though; he keeps that a secret… But he’s really good at hide-and-seek: I can never find him!”

Meanwhile, Leo had begun chattering excitedly to Ruth and Abel near the Bowtruckle tree; one of the tiny twig-like creatures perched on his shoulder beside his ear, much to their amazement. “This is Finn, but we also have Titus, Poppy, Marlow and Tom…oh, and Pickett! Pickett is Daddy’s favourite-”

“I don’t have favourites,” Newt disagreed, though he was grinning to himself as he patted his pocket. “Pickett just has attachment issues, that’s all; it has nothing to do with me.”

“Can I hold one?” Abel asked quietly, much to everyone’s surprise – he usually kept silent, never speaking unless necessary. “Please?”

Newt nodded hurriedly. “Of course, of course…here,” He murmured, and he reached to gently pull one of the Bowtruckles from the tree. “This one is Tom – he’s relatively quiet and doesn’t chatter as much as the others…much like yourself, I suppose.”

Abel smiled shyly, watching with glee as Tom crawled into his cupped hands. “Hi, Tom.”

Watching from his perch on Leo’s shoulder, Finn gave a tiny shriek; his human shushed him affectionately. “Not now – I’ll give you a bug to eat in a minute.” The Bowtruckle seemed to fold its arms, sulking petulantly.

Meanwhile, it hadn’t escaped Newt’s notice that Toby had held back somewhat, choosing to watch his siblings from near the shed; once he was certain that the others were occupied, Newt walked up the path and sent his nephew a fond smile.

“Are you alright up here, Toby?”

Toby shrugged. “I guess. I just…I dunno. Phoenix said something about the Niffler, and I would have gone with him but…”

“But?” Newt prompted gently.

“Well…” The boy bit his lip, avoiding his uncle’s gaze. “I wanted to make sure they were okay, you know? Daisy and Ruth both cried once we left New York, and Abel just looks…sad.” He sighed, looking out at the different habitats in the case. “I wanna go and see all your creatures, Uncle Newt, I do, but…but I’m not good with animals or anything. Daisy and I once found a stray-cat near our apartment, and it really liked her but hissed when I came near.”

The Magizoologist just shook his head, unable to keep himself from grinning knowingly. “Ah, well, I think you’ll find our creatures to be a bit different to stray-cats, Toby – and they already like you very much, as it happens.”

“They…They do?” Toby frowned, extremely confused. “How?”

“It’s not your first time down here, you know,” Newt reminded him, and he beckoned for him to follow; he waited until his nephew had fallen into step beside him before continuing. “Your Auntie Tina and I had to look after you more than a few times when you were a baby – and we used to bring you down here when you couldn’t sleep.”

“You did?”

Newt laughed at his shocked expression. “Of course – Dougal was always trying to mother you when we brought you down, you know, and even the Niffler let you cuddle him a few times. That surprised us quite a bit, to be honest.”

“Yeah…I guess so,” Toby agreed slowly, and his lips started to turn up. “Nifflers don’t stay still for long, do they? Pa told us that your Niffler got loose in a bank once, and that was how he met you and Auntie Tina – he tells us that story to help us sleep sometimes.”

He could just picture it: Jacob telling the children animatedly about how that fateful day at the bank, about how he had discovered magic by accident, how he had met not only Newt but also Tina and Queenie too. That day really had become very significant, even if none of them had realized it at the time.

Newt chuckled softly to himself. “Yes, it’s quite a story, isn’t it?…I dare say someone could even write a book about it one day.”

It took a few weeks to officially secure the bakery; it wasn’t going to be given away for nothing, of course, and so the Prewetts had asked for a relatively moderate sum of money in return. Not familiar with British Wizarding Currency, both Jacob and Queenie had been unsure as to how much it would be – but Newt had shaken his head at them, insisting that he’d pay for it.

“Newt, honey, you don’t need to-”

“We’ve got money, you know, there’s no need-”

Newt had raised his hand, looking between them seriously. “No, no…it’d be my pleasure to buy the shop for you. After all, I technically helped you secure the loan for the previous one – it seems fitting I help you acquire another one, really.”

The embraces he had received at this nearly winded him and left him red in the face – but he had grinned and found himself lightly returning their hugs anyway, pleased that he’d made them both so happy.

“Wow, Scamander…you look shattered!”

Tina huffed, all but flopping into her seat at her desk. “You’d be too if you had eight children living under one roof, Malkin.”

Malkin, a rookie and her current desk-partner, let out a low whistle. “Eight? Blimey, that happened quick…Last month it was three with one on the way, and now it’s eight. Got more than you bargained for then?”

“Five of them are my sister’s,” She muttered dryly. “I don’t know how she and her husband manage it…five…and Newt and I thought it was hard enough with three…”

“Ah. Well, it won’t be too much longer until they move out I suppose,” He mused, sitting back in his chair. “Then you’ll have the house to yourself, right?”

Tina gnawed her lip. “I suppose so.”

While she was getting exhausted by the sheer number of children running around the house at any one time (she’d already had to mend several plates in the kitchen and, on one occasion, had to heal a nasty scrape on Leo’s leg when he’d been accidentally shoved), she didn’t particularly want her sister’s family to move out. Sure, they’d probably live nearby but it had felt so right to be living in such proximity with her sister again (even if it had warranted a number of Silencing spells being cast at night just in case).

Malkin seemed to know what she was thinking about and smirked. “Must be hard to get amorous with your sister and her husband in the house.”

“Shut up,” She snapped, well-aware she was bright red. “That’s not what I was thinking at all.”

“Of course not, Scamander, if you say so.”

Tina debated briefly hexing him, and her hand twitched for her wand, but then decided it wasn’t really worth it; instead she settled for shooting him a glare before turning back to her work. She hated to admit it, but he did have a point – it was hard to have any intimacy when she and Newt were all too aware of Jacob and Queenie sleeping in the next room, and that they not only had their children in the house but nieces and nephews too.

Malkin cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. “So, when are you going on leave then?”

“April,” She muttered, not even looking up at him.

“April?!” Malkin repeated, looking genuinely surprised by this. “Merlin, that’s a bit late, isn’t it?”

Tina rolled her eyes. “No – I’m not due until May and, in case you didn’t realize, I’m more than capable of working behind this desk while I’m pregnant.”

“Alright, alright… Jeez, someone’s stressed out.”

Damn right, She thought to herself, feeling rather annoyed, You’d be too if you were me.

She knew she’d have to bring up the subject soon, however, because this arrangement couldn’t continue forever; Phoenix and Linnet had been rather gracious about sharing thus far, but they’d want their own rooms back before too long. To add, things were extremely cramped as it was – let alone with the new baby due to arrive in the following May.

As much as Tina loved the closeness of being with Queenie again, it was undeniable that they needed a new home.

“We’ve been looking at a few places, and…well, we’re just looking for something we can afford, you know?”

“Afford?” Newt questioned, and both he and Tina looked somewhat surprised by Jacob’s statement. “Jacob, you know that we’ll assist in any way we can – if it’s money that you need-”

“No offence, buddy,” Jacob interrupted, looking truly apologetic. “But you’ve both done a lot for us already – it ain’t fair. Besides, this is gonna be our home: we should be the ones paying for it.”

“Well, you can stay here until you can afford something,” Tina suggested, looking between her sister and brother-in-law anxiously. “We’re not about to kick you out or anything… And Newt and I, we really don’t mind you all staying for as long as you need.”

Newt nodded in agreement, but Queenie was already shaking her head. “We’ve already been here a month – and I know you’ve been thinking there’s too many of us here, Teen, that it’s too cramped.”

Tina went bright red when Newt looked at her in surprise. “That’s…I didn’t mean it like that, Queenie…I just meant…”

“I know, I know,” She agreed softly. “But you’re right; it ain’t fair that your kids are having to share their rooms for so long, especially now you’ve got another one on the way.”

“Besides, we…” Jacob hesitated, looking to his wife for confirmation; she nodded at him to continue. “We been thinking that we…you know…might like more kids someday. Maybe. We’d need a proper house for that.”

Newt was silent, clearly thinking to himself; Tina bit her lip and looked down at the table. “I…I might have an idea. It’s probably not a good one, but…”

Queenie’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Teenie…you should have told us!”

Newt and Jacob both looked confused by this, but Tina’s cheeks were burning red. “I still don’t appreciate you reading my mind, Queenie…”

“What? What’s going on?”

Queenie looked between her sister and her husband, still shocked. “Teen knew there was a house for sale around here – and she didn’t say anything!”

“There’s a house for sale nearby?” Newt questioned, looking at his wife in surprise. “Which one?”

She was still pink-cheeked as she ducked her head. “It’s the Macmillans’ house – their kids have all moved out and they want a smaller place to retire in.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Queenie asked again, raising her eyebrows at her sister.

“I didn’t know if you’d want it,” Tina defended, clearly embarrassed. “I thought you guys would want to be closer to the bakery in Beaminster, you know? And it’s still kinda close to us, and I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with that-”

“You guys are family,” Jacob stated earnestly. “You, Newt, the kids – ‘course we wouldn’t mind that!”

“And there are ways they can get to the bakery in Beaminster,” Newt agreed, nodding his head. “Apparition, Floo Powder… I’m sure the Ministry won’t mind setting up the connection, if we persuade them.”

Queenie was tapping her fingers on the wood of the table, looking at her sister intently as she skimmed through her thoughts. “It’s seven rooms,” She murmured slowly. “An old house…How far away is it, Teen?”

“Well, I saw it and spoke to them when I was walking some of the way home from work last week,” Tina explained. “It’s down the path, probably about ten or fifteen minutes away.”

Both Jacob and Queenie looked pleased by this, their faces lighting up; Newt smiled crookedly to himself. “How much do you think it’ll cost, Tina?”

“I can’t know for sure,” She confessed. “But it does need some work, so that might reduce the price a bit. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, that the house needs some repairs, but they’re relatively minor from what I’ve heard – a few damp spots here and there, an occasional crack in the wall, and a few windows need replacing…”

“That’s fine,” Jacob assured her, clearly excited all of a sudden. “We can fix that up no problem, right, Queenie?”

She paused for a moment, clearly reading Tina’s thoughts to see for herself – but then she beamed radiantly. “That’s nothing!” She stated eagerly. “Oh, it could be perfect once we’ve done some work on it, Jacob – and the kids, they could have some space to run around: real space, a real garden…”

“And you’d all be welcome to visit whenever you want,” Newt added with a grin. “I’m sure the children would be thrilled at living so nearby to each other – they could play as often as they like.”

Tina looked at her sister and suddenly felt her heart lift – if it did happen, then they’d be able to see each other whenever they wanted. It wouldn’t be the same as living in an apartment together, of course, but it didn’t have to be: they could sit and talk whenever they wished, their families sharing holidays and meals just like the two of them had done for years.

Queenie’s eyes were teary as she looked back at her sister with a large smile. “Yes,” She agreed quietly. “I want that too, Teen – it would be perfect.”

I don’t know if I should do a part about them moving in or…? (Yes, they’re going to get the house) Or maybe I should start writing about the difficult miracle!baby pregnancy? (yes, that’ll be multi-chaptered too)

I was so stuck on the last section so I apologize for the delay. On the plus side, I’m going to be pretty un-busy this weekend so…perhaps I’ll get something else written! :D

Hope you enjoyed!

[prose-byanyothername]

Cloud Nine (Chapter Two)

Fandom: Mystic Messenger Pairing: Jumin/MC (you) Rating: Fluff Summary: The RFA members say that MC was trapped, but how could anyone claim to be trapped when she said so herself that she was in heaven? Retells the events of MC visiting Jumin in his pent-house. Set between days 7-11 in Jumin’s route. (* spoiler alert!)

[Chapter One] | [Chapter Three]

Chapter Two: Another Side (Of Me)

After MC stepped out of the bathroom in her newly changed clothes, she meekly walked out with her bag in tow. Upon re-entering the living room area to join Jumin, she quietly set it down and she had to stop herself from running into anything after their eyes met.

“I do apologize, by the way. I said that I was going to wait for you before I called the chef, however, I realize that I’d forgotten to eat lunch.” Jumin said to her as she walked closer to him. “I hope you like Lobster Thermidor.”

“Anything is fine.” MC softly complied, even though, truthfully, she had absolutely no idea what exactly that was. She had to constantly remind herself that this was Jumin Han that she was about to have dinner with, and she was expecting it to be nothing short of extraordinary — that was for sure.

“What material is that, by the way?” He caught himself eying her colorful, distinctly patterned pajamas. “I don’t think I’ve seen that kind of look in our clothing line.”

The brunette was slightly taken aback, having secretly hoped that he wouldn’t make a comment. All she could hope was that he did not have a clear distaste for them, for these were honestly one of her best sets. “Cotton...? I think?”

“Personally, I cannot sleep if I am not dressed in all-matching satin, myself.” Jumin continued to observe her attire, not because he was displeased but rather from feeling intrigued more than anything.

“I mean, in my opinion, who cares about style, when comfort is the obvious winner in this situation?” MC shrugged casually, not trying to look terribly insecure of herself in front of him regarding his remarks. She was already turning to make her way back to the bathroom. “I do apologize, though. I didn’t realize that we were going to have such a fancy dinner. Had I known I… wouldn’t have changed so soon. I don’t mean to respect you, sir... Mr. H—... I mean... Jumin... I…”

He immediately grabbed ahold of her wrist to stop her, to which it took her by surprise. “Please, MC. Don’t worry so much, and anyway, I told you to feel at home. Actually, if it makes you feel better, I’ll even change into mine.”

MC’s eyes lit up, amazed at how polite and willing he was to adjust even the smallest things to make her more comfortable. As she watched him turn his heel to swiftly walk to his bedroom, she was still in disbelief on whether she was in a dream or if this was reality.

When he came back, she felt like she had to hold herself back from letting her jaw hit the floor as she reveled in his perfect figure hugging the jet black fabric of the satin pajamas that he said he wore. She looked down for a moment and sighed, feeling rather ordinary in comparison.

“Is there something wrong?” Jumin asked as he knelt down to her in order to better read her expression, worry quickly spreading his face.

“Be honest, Jumin...” She hung her head low, playing with her fingers before proceeding to point at herself. “Do you think that what I’m wearing looks... tacky?”

“Are you joking?” His expression practically aghast. “Was that all? MC, come on, you look good in anything. If you’re talking about your pajamas, though, then I’d say they’re absolutely adorable.”

“You’re kidding...” MC laughed, a dismissing hand waving across her face displayed her insecurity and denial of the truth behind his response. “I bought these for fifteen bucks at the Mall-mart just a week ago. They’re hardly compared to anything you own, I’m sure.”

Jumin shook his head, a small smirk peeking through the side of face as he winked at her. “Stop that. You know better that money doesn’t buy good looks — or happiness, for that matter. In fact, I’m actually looking forward to having dinner in our pajamas.”

“You mean it, Jumin?” MC gasped happily, watching him nod in response with crossed arms. “I’m sorry if I don’t have much to offer, but I still hope we can have a good night together?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He couldn’t believe how hard she was being on herself, his smoldering, gray eyes softening as he stared deeply into her own. “How silly of you to say that. Just having you here with me is enough to make the rest of my night that much better. Come. Dinner will be ready soon.”

After some time, MC watched curiously as she watched his chef promptly prepare dinner and set the table for them both. She could hardly believe his keen, swift hands as he worked. She and Jumin eventually joined each other as they sat opposite of each other once he was done, with only freshly made food, an unopened bottle of white wine, and a handful of newly lit tea candles between them both.

“Really... This is too much, Jumin.” MC’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, unsure of how to react at the spectacular presentation. “A-Are you sure about this?”

“Are you forgetting who I am?” smirked Jumin as they managed to meet each other’s gaze again within the dim lighting.

“I didn’t question your capability. I was referring to my own self-worth.” She clarified, smiling sheepishly back at him.

And this response certainly took him by surprise, for sure. His elbows touched the table as he twined his fingers together. He seemed to be focusing his full attention on her now.

“MC… How do you do it?”

“Do… what?” She raised her eyebrows in confusion.

Jumin felt a strange, fluttering sensation in his chest. He had to catch his breath as he caught a glimpse of her nose wriggling slightly. After a moment, he sighed, shaking his head as his soft smile peeked out once more. “Never mind, let’s eat.”

MC was practically culture-shocked as she stared at her plate. This was the fanciest dinner that she’d ever had in her entire life, and meanwhile this had probably been a typical evening for Jumin.

Jumin popped the bottle of wine open as he served them both, talking extensively about each other’s taste in liquor as they gradually helped themselves to their meal. After some time with small conversations in between, they finished up in silence. Once MC cleared her plate, she got up from her seat, blew out the candles, then began gathering the dishes and silverware together.

“What are you doing?” The young man asked with widened eyes, also getting up from his post.

“The dishes…?” MC said matter-of-factly as she promptly walked over to the kitchen sink.

“Leave them. I’ll have my maid take care of it in the morning.”

“You already got dinner, so I should clean. It seems like a pretty fair deal to me.”

“Don’t, please. You’re my guest.” He insisted, taking the dishes from her hands in one fell swoop.

“Which is exactly…” She took it back from him just as quickly. “…why I have to do them.”

“MC… Don’t do this.”

“But Jumin, I want to.”

The two of them continued this playful tease for a while, going back and forth between who was going to get the other to cave in first. When he saw MC hold the plates above her head with both of her hands, Jumin went for the opportunity to attempt at grabbing them from behind her, but she drew back quickly out of surprise and it caused her to fall backwards onto him.

MC gasped, feeling the force of her own body come in contact with Jumin’s. He, too, was certainly surprised, for he stood frozen in his tracks. She could feel her heart thumping against her chest, unsure of what to do next. She lowered her head as she put the plates down on the counter to break the silence, feeling Jumin’s arms retreat back to him right after she did so.

Jumin had opened his mouth to say something, but his thought was quickly withdrawn as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. “I… have to take this call. I’ll be right back.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, MC watched as he turned his heel and walked down the hall to another room to attend to this private manner. She decided to leave the dishes be for now, walking over to the couch and taking a seat. Crossing her legs, she pulled out her own cell phone, logging into the RFA app and checking to see if anybody was on the messenger for the meantime.

To her surprise, MC saw that Seven and Jaehee were online, and she opened up a new chatroom. She explained to them both that she made it to Jumin’s place safely and that she was being treated well.

707: But MC, isn’t it really late?

Jaehee Kang: I thought that too… It’s my fault.

Jaehee Kang: Things were so hectic that I didn’t even check the time.

Jaehee Kang: I should have asked you to go tomorrow morning.

“It’s okay. I’m glad I got to see him sooner.” MC smiled as she glanced over at the room that Jumin headed off to after typing this out to them. She took a moment to detach herself from her revelry and fixated her focus back onto the messenger app on her phone.

707: MC,

707: do you plan to stay the night there?

Jaehee Kang: …No way. ^^;

MC decided to stay quiet about her plans to sleep over, secretly excited to be at a place aside from Rika’s apartment but, more importantly, also to be in Jumin’s residence, with him. Her mood deflated significantly as there were then talks about Glam Choi and the tabloids that spread like wildfire all over television shows and social media sites everywhere. She expressed empathy at the stress that he must’ve been undergoing, wishing that there was more that she could do for him.

Seven then went on to explain to the two women about how if even more shocking news ended up replacing the currently trending story, it would be possible that it could steal the lime-light away from Glam and Sarah.

707: After a night filled with roses,

707: MC is seen leaving Jumin Han’s house, with her hair still wet.

707: As soon as she gets off the elevator to go home,

707: the paparazzi takes a photo! The first page on next morning’s news

707: Jumin Han’s new woman, MC!

707: Instantly buries the story about Sarah!

MC blushed simply at the thought, seeing herself with him in this beautiful visual image that suddenly blossomed in her mind. It was almost as if he were a perfect fit for her, and her fantasies of sweet-nothings and marriage dissipated as quick as it came.

“That can’t be good for Jumin’s reputation…” She sighed a little sadly as she said this instead of how her original feelings told her to respond. She felt at peace, however, feeling like there was possibly some kind of hope for them, but not quite right now while things were hectic.

Her eyes rolled as Seven continued to crack his usual set of jokes, noting Jaehee’s apparent irritation throughout their conversation. MC later expressed her concerns of Yoosung getting to Seven’s place safely, as the red-headed hacker began to explain his busy-work spent apparently wrapping boxes full of Honey Buddha chips for his friend — among other nonsensible topics.

When he swiftly left the chat without much warning shortly after, MC stayed and talked to Jaehee about her hopes that Jumin returning to work the next day. After she reassured her that she would try her best, she bid her good night.

MC heard the muffled sound of Jumin still talking to the person on the other line, though not clearly enough to decipher the conversation he was having. She didn’t want to bother him, but also didn’t want to touch things without his consent. After some time, she settled with comfortably staring out at the night sky from the glass doors leading to his patio, taking in the view as she let her thoughts quietly settle in her mind.

Suddenly, she felt her phone in her pocket go off again, pulling it quickly thinking she was getting a call. However, it was just a notification of Zen starting up yet another chatroom. She decided to enter it, in hopes that she could convince him further with reassurance of her safety and get him to stop bugging her so much about her being at a man’s house.

Zen blatantly expressed his concern of MC being at Jumin’s pent-house from the get-go, however, to which she already expected. She snickered at this, knowing full well she was going to have to repeat herself plenty of times again that night. After some time, it appeared that Jumin, himself, went in to the chatroom on his own smartphone, which let MC know that he had just finished up with his call. It wasn’t long before they began bickering continuously, just as they always did whenever they were in the same chatroom. He continually lectured Jumin about treating MC like a lady and to not come onto her before she were to leave the next day.

ZEN: If you have a conscience at all, at least send a photo.

Jumin Han: A photo?

ZEN: Yeah!!! A photo of you two together!!!

ZEN: I have to check with my own eyes that MC’s safe

Jumin Han: No.

ZEN: What…

Jumin Han: I don’t want anyone else to look at her.

“lololol Jumin, you’re cute.” MC’s face turned cherry red as her grin widened in tow. If her hands weren’t holding her phone, she would probably be hiding her face in them.

Jumin Han: I’d like to sincerely thank her for taking the risk to visit me

Jumin Han: Is there anything she wants?

She heard footsteps, and before she could even blink, Jumin came from behind her and took a seat next to her on the couch. He looked over at her expectantly, to which she gasped lightly in turn.

ZEN: Are you ignoring me?

MC dropped her phone despite it blowing up with notifications of Zen spamming the chatroom, burying her head into her now free hands as she tried hard to hide herself away from Jumin. She couldn’t let him see that she was clearly falling for him.

She still looked up at him eagerly, however, and their eyes remained fixated on one another. He rested an arm on the back of the sofa, scooting himself closer to her as he began typing again but with only a single hand.

Jumin Han: I’ll make strawberry pancakes for you tomorrow. What kind of tea do you like for breakfast?

MC: You don’t have to… I can cook.

Jumin Han: No, you’re a guest. I can’t make you work.

Jumin Han: I’ll prepare everything that you need. Just stay by my side.

“I don’t know why, but I instantly felt better.” Jumin says this aloud as he also proceeds to type the same response on the messenger after some time, explaining to her that she helped him significantly.

MC giggled after he said this, backing away a bit as the two continued squabbling about matters again, that especially of topics involving Elizabeth the 3rd. Jumin regrettably wished that he continued to ignore Zen instead of speaking to him again. Somewhere in between, she made attempts to convince Jumin to go back to work, to which he spoke to her directly outside of the messenger as something that they would discuss for later. She backed him up against Zen calling him out as the “Trust Fund Kid” born with a golden spoon shirking his responsibilities like a negligent coward. This was getting old.

The brunette slowly reclined farther and farther back as the conversation continued. Her feet began to dangle from the sofa, as she made a huge yawn. Her arms proceeded to outstretch above her head before she took her hands to her eyes to rub them.

Jumin Han: Oh.

Jumin Han: MC seems quite sleepy.

Jumin Han: I should put her to bed.

“P-Put… me to bed…?” Her mouth agape as she glanced over at him once more, feeling sure yet unsure of what exactly he meant. He looked her straight in the eye as he worked on putting up his reply to the messenger.

Jumin Han: Of course.

Jumin Han: I can’t let you sleep alone.

Jumin Han: I’m going to go to the kitchen. I have some things to organize. Wait a sec.

[Jumin Han has left the chatroom.]

MC watched as he rose to his height and placed his phone on the table, turning only to have a quick glance at her as he walked off to the opposite direction. She practically forgot that there was another member in the chat, although she couldn’t help herself from rereading the last few messages that Jumin sent for the members to see. Did she really deserve to be treated like this?

ZEN: MC, are you really okay?

ZEN: Still… you’re alone with a guy…

MC: I trust Jumin.

And she says this with absolutely certainty, a wave of relief flowing through her. Still, Zen continues on with his repeated “big brother” lecture before eventually expressing his need to take a shower after a long day, and bid a good-intentioned farewell before taking his leave.

MC then followed Jumin over to the kitchen, who stared out deeply in thought as he rubbed a finger underneath his jawline. Her pace slowed, hoping to not be interrupting anything. However, she stopped where she was when he turned around to face her.

“Jumin, what are you thinking about?” MC tilts her head to the side in attempts to take a better look at his forlorn expression.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” He dismissed whatever thought in his mind rather quickly, his eyes directly at the brunette. “Just… old memories. Aren’t you sleepy? If you are, you can sleep on the bed. I’ll turn off the lights.”

“Where will you sleep?” MC asked, concerned. She definitely noted the sudden change in topic.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ll sleep.” He squeezed his fingertips along the bridge of his nose. “I have some things to think about. But nothing for you to worry about. Just rest up on my bed.”

She obediently followed this as she gently climbed onto his bed, for she had had a long day, as well. The thread count on his sheets must have been through-the-roof ridiculous and his pillows must have been touched by an angel — or something along those lines — because she had never felt something so comfortably luxurious before in her life. Her eyes watched as the young man began dimming the lights in the room.

“If you feel uncomfortable at the change of scenery… do you mind if I read for you?” She caught his eyes as it sparkled from the city lights that found its way in through the patio’s glass sliding doors.

“Please do. I’ll feel more comfortable if I hear your voice.” MC admitted, hoping silently that the lighting was dark enough for him to not notice the hint of pink in her cheeks.

Jumin took his place at the edge of the bed on the same side that she laid on, a book in his hand. He had a firm hold on the burgundy leather binding, flipping to a specific page as if he memorized the entire story like the back of his hand. “I’m glad that you want to hear it…”

Her breath slowed as she saw him scooting rather close to her, the wide smile on her face especially harder to hide now. But his own face seemed to soften as he returned the same look back at her. She caught him letting out a light chuckle as he began to read.

Jumin’s voice was softer than his usual tone. He earnestly explained to her about how the book was from a special “friend” – Rika, to be exact. He talked about how he put off finishing the story when she asked him what exactly it was about, because he didn’t want to end it knowing its sentimentality. From there, he continued to recite more lines from the book. MC tuned in intently as she let his sweet voice find its way into her mind — her heart. She found it soothing the way he gently, yet eloquently, he spoke. It was like music to her ears.

“I feel as curious about you as I was with her.” He turned his eyes away from the pages as he found himself bringing Rika back up again. “It’s amazing to feel the way that I do right now. I’d love to know more about you.”

“M-Me?” She pointed at herself, shocked at the quick transition he made.

“Yes, you.” Jumin grinned, clearly amused. “I didn’t realize when we were just talking on the messenger. But now that you’re right beside me, I really want to know you, MC.”

He continued to open up in a way that she didn’t expect. They hadn’t known each other long, but in the few days since she joined the RFA, she knew for a fact what she was getting into. The rest of the gang warned her about pursuing a relationship with Jumin, and that the ice in his cold heart could not be melted. MC was uncertain on whether or not she had actually gotten him to his point quite yet, but she knew that she was willing to keep on trying — for him, maybe even for them, if he allowed it.

“You made me turn all my focus on you… Thanks to that, I’ll be able to stop thinking about all those troubles. MC, thank you so much for coming. I feel so good that you’re here.” He brought his face tantalizingly close to her, his voice lowering to a near-whisper now. “I… never want to let you go. One day, once I finish reading this book to you, feel as if all my threads will untangle.”

While trying really hard to decipher what exactly that meant, he stopped her thoughts abruptly as he pulled away, gently placing the covers over her body and closing the blinds to his patio door. “It’s getting late, though. I apologize for keeping you up this long. Sleep well, MC.”

“Get some kind of sleep too, Jumin.” She told him worriedly, watching him walk off.

MC sighed happily as she let the waves of sleep lull her into a sweet slumber, hoping for Jumin to appear in her dreams…

[murkymuse]

Title: Having The Faith To Soar

Fandom: Yuri On Ice

Ships: Gen

AO3, Previous

Chapter Two - Practice, Practice, Practice

Hello! I’m Vera Kotova, a self-taught amateur skater. Through an unlikely twist of chance, THE Yuri Plisetsky saw me skating and was impressed enough to call his coach! Now I’ve been whisked away to St. Petersburg so I can train under one of Coach Feltsman’s associates. Meanwhile, the Grand Prix Series continues with the Cup of China! I can’t wait to see Yuri skate again! 

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Vera groaned and rolled over to reach for her noisy phone on the nightstand. The screen glared with a notification: Ballet Practice. Vera practically rolled out of bed and turned the alarm off.

Ever since moving to St. Petersburg, she had a very strict schedule to keep. Six mornings a week she had alternating physical training and ballet practice. Of course, she had school after morning practice five days a week. Her favorite time of day was the afternoon when she was able to practice ice skating.

“You might have some potential but you currently lack a solid foundation to build on,” Coach Feltsman had told her, “If you want to seriously compete, training needs to become your life.”

What else did she have in life anyway? A dead father and a mother that barely paid attention to her. Vera would gladly throw her body and soul into the only thing she did have: ice skating.  

So, while her sore body longed to sleep another hour or two, Vera quickly got ready and left for the ballet studio. As she exited the apartment building, the sounds of the city – cars, people, seagulls – invaded her ears. The tall buildings and crowded streets were vastly different from the sparse town she’d lived in up until now. It was still a little overwhelming; she hadn’t yet felt comfortable wandering outside her bubble of apartment-gym-ballet studio-school-ice rink.

Maybe if she asked nicely when the season was over Yuri would go with her to explore the city? He did say he’d check in on her progress, even if he hadn’t been specific on when. But with the Cup of China quickly approaching and then the Grand Prix Finals after that… Then Nationals and then World’s… Vera wasn’t expecting to see Yuri Plisetsky again any time soon.

That was okay. She’d work really hard so that next time saw him, he wouldn’t regret giving her this chance.

Vera’s drifting thoughts cut off as she pushed the door open and entered the ballet studio.

The rink was strangely empty and quiet when Vera got there. She checked her phone and realized that she’d somehow managed to arrive a good fifteen minutes early. It was still unusual because this rink was typically open to the public right before the skating class. Maybe someone had booked it earlier?

Vera shrugged, not caring about the specifics, and went to put on her skates (that they were truly hers and not rentals still made her grin). She hadn’t gotten a chance to skate alone in weeks. There was no way she wasn’t going to take advantage of the empty rink.

As she skated out onto the ice, she put her earbuds in and stuffed her phone in her pocket.

Sic mea vita est temporaria, cupit ardenter caritatem aeternam

Vera hadn’t attempted skating Agape since moving to the city. Now she felt a difference in her skating. Her balance was even more stable; her motions were both more fluid and precise. She smiled softly before going into her first jump.

The sound and feel of blades against the ice as she made a perfect landing was beautiful and thrilling. Feeling even more confident, she continued to flow with the music.

Once she and the music came to a still, Vera blinked and realized that she’d gathered a small audience. Coach Lebedeva was standing rinkside with a bemused expression. A few of Vera’s rinkmates were there as well; their faces filled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. One girl, who had her hair in a high ponytail, had her phone held up to take a video.

“Um…”

Vera’s cheeks felt a little warm; and, she wasn’t sure what to say. However, her rinkmates broke the silence for her.

“That was so cool!”

“I didn’t know you could land an axel!”

“How long did it take you to learn that?”

“Thanks. I first managed it about six months ago. And a few years,” she managed to answer.  

Before anyone could say more, Coach Lebedeva clapped her hands to get their attention. “Alright everyone, stretch and get your stakes on. And, Anya, don’t post that video online without Vera’s permission.”

Anya guiltily put her phone down, shooting an apologetic smile, and then went to get her skates on.

Once the rest of her rinkmates joined Vera on the ice, Anya skated up to her, “Some of us are watching the Cup of China at my house later. Do you want to come?”

Vera wanted to say that she’d go but the words got stuck in her throat.

“…I can’t. I have to finish a project for school,” she lied.

“Oh, maybe next time.”

“Yeah.”

The awkward pause was broken as Coach Lebedeva instructed them into edge drills. As it could be expected from a group of pre-teens, the class was an organized chaos. Students laughed and joked while skating in every direction; and, the coach would call out corrections or glide over to help when someone was struggling. Despite all that, practice always seemed to go by quickly to Vera. Soon enough her rinkmates were heading off the ice. When Vera didn’t follow them, the coach gave her a look but said nothing. Vera took that as permission to continue and stretched into the Biellmann position again.

As parents arrived to pick up her rinkmates, she tried not to pay them any attention. However, it was impossible to completely block out the drifting chatter.  

“Anya,” the voice was soft and sweet, “How many of your friends are coming?”

Anya listed off half the class. Excited giggles echoed across the room as Anya’s mother began ushering the group toward the door. Vera frowned as she switched the positions of her legs and went into a spin.

It was only after all her rinkmates had left that Coach Lebedeva’s called out, “That’s enough for today. If you practice much longer, you’ll miss the men’s short programs.”

Since the Cup of China didn’t start for another hour, Vera figured the coach was just saying that because she wanted to leave but couldn’t with a student still on the ice.

“I’m coming,” she replied as she skated off the rink.

That Seung-gil guy was about finished with his short program; the crowd cheering as the commentators exclaimed in excitement over the flawless combination he just landed. It was at that exact moment reality suddenly hit Yuri like a freight train.

“Yuri,” Yakov’s voice was distant, “Come on. You’re up next.”

He felt rooted to the spot, unable to move. The ground seemed oddly distant and blurred as well.

“Yuri?” A hand lightly placed on his shoulder. Lilia. “What’s wrong?”

Wrong?

Grandpa had rarely been able to come to his competitions but he always watched them on tv. Now, for the first time since Yuri moved up to the Senior division, Grandpa wasn’t sitting at home with the tv on to watch him skate.

A sob was building in the back of his throat. Yuri bit it back as a kernel of molten anger settled in the pit of his stomach. He absolutely refused to breakdown here and now! He could get through this! He could get out there and give one hell of a performance!

He just needed to move.

“Yura.”

He glanced around until his eyes found Otabek. His friend’s expression was as stoic as ever but Yuri knew him well enough read between the lines. There was no pity found in Otabek’s gaze, just the certainty that no matter what Yuri would give it his all. That he would soldier through.

“Davai.”

Yuri took a deep breath and then gave Otabek a thumbs up.

“It’s time,” Yakov said.

Yuri nodded and began walking toward the rink. He had a medal to win.  

The next night found Yuri kicking the locker room wall and muttering insults under his breath. He honestly didn’t mind losing gold to Otabek but he lost silver to Seung-gil?! What the hell?!

“Between the gold from France and this bronze, your spot at the finals is secure,” Yakov stated from behind him, “You’ll do better there.”

Yuri glared at an invisible point. “I will.”

Hours later Yuri knocked on a hotel door. It took a minute for it to open and reveal Otabek. Seeing Yuri, he opened the door wider and shifted aside. Yuri walked right in and immediately sprawled on the couch.

“I’ve sat on more comfortable benches.”

Otabek simply nodded before nudging Yuri so that he’d make room. Yuri grumbled but complied. Then Otabek just waited for the rant he knew was coming.

“Yakov didn’t even lecture me! He always lectures me after I skate!”

“He’s trying to be sensitive.”

“Well, it’s weird! I don’t want him tip-toeing around me!”

Otabek hummed in response.

“It’s bad enough that Katsudon and Viktor keep calling to check on me,” he continued with a grimace, “Bleh! I swear if Lilia goes easy on me when we get back to St. Petersburg I’ll kick someone.”

Otabek’s mouth tugged up ever so slightly, unnoticeable to everyone but those that knew him best.

“Not Lilia,” he said.

Yuri gave him an incredulous look. “Hell no! I don’t have a death wish!”

There was a beat of quiet as his word choice sank in. Then Yuri rolled off the couch and ended up face down on the floor.

“The carpet is more comfortable than that stupid couch. Someone should complain to the hotel.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it,” Otabek replied, his voice so flat that it was impossible to tell if he were joking or not.

“Good.” Yuri pushed himself back up and leaned against the couch. “We’re still going to Beijing Zoo before the exhibition show tomorrow, right.”

Otabek nodded. “You’d disown me if I tried to back out.”

“Damn right I would.” His eyes suddenly went wide like he remembered something important. “Oh! Watch this.”    

Yuri then pulled out his phone and swiped until he found the video he wanted. Otabek leaned over Yuri’s shoulder as he started the video. It was of a young girl skating with familiar movements.

“The kid you mentioned?”

“Yeah. Yakov’s friend sent the video yesterday,” Yuri answered, “Would you believe she’s only been formally training for less than two months?”

Otabek watched to the end before replying, “Then she has overwhelming natural talent.”

“Right!”

The students were gathering their things and trailing out the door when Vera’s phone started playing Allegro Appassionato in B minor. The teacher gave her a disapproving look but couldn’t say anything since it was time to leave. Vera stuck her tongue out once the teacher glanced away. She then unlocked her phone to see a text:

Vera let out an excited noise that earned her a few odd looks from her classmates. She didn’t notice though as she quickly gathered her stuff and zipped up her coat. Then she was out the door.

The air outside was chill; and, the ground was damp from it drizzling earlier in the day. Vera’s breath turned to mist as she glanced around. It didn’t take long to spot Yuri. He was leaning against the fence with his hoodie pulled over his head and scrolling through his phone.

“Yuri!”

He looked up as she sprinted over to him.

“Didn’t you just get back from China? I watched your programs!”

“We got back a few days ago,” he replied, “Come on. Yakov will yell if we’re late.”

Yuri began walking down the sidewalk; and, Vera had to practically jog to keep up with his long strides. She filled the walk with questions about his trip. While Yuri was happy to answer general questions about China, his replies about the competition itself were short and sharp. Vera fell silent after a few minutes.

It didn’t take much longer for the building to come into sight; its sign had ‘Sports Champions Club’ spelled out around the flag. There were a few people milling outside the entrance but they weren’t dressed to skate or workout. Yuri suddenly stopped in his tracks. Vera stopped a step later and looked back at him questioningly.

“Da-” He glanced at Vera and made an annoyed sound. “Tch. Can’t the reporters let me train in peace.”

Since they had yet to notice him, Yuri grabbed Vera’s hand and started walking.

“We’ll sneak past them and go through the back.”

He led her around the side of the building to an ‘employees only’ door. Either someone had left it unlocked or it’d been purposely left that way for this situation. Whichever reason, they were able to get inside without any issues.

Once they’d passed through a storage area, they entered the main lobby. Vera blinked as she took everything in. It was large but not overly crowded; just a few employees going about their work and a group of men with hockey shirts talking to each other. An employee greeted Yuri and gave Vera a curious look but everyone else ignored them.

They entered the rink then. Only Mila (THE Mila Babicheva!) was on the ice, spinning and jumping as she practiced what Vera recognized as her short program for the season.

“Woah.”

“There you are!” Coach Feltsman shouted.

Yuri joined his coach by the ice, while Vera trailed behind him. He began stretching as he replied, “There are reporters out front again.”

“It’s because you refused interviews after the Cup of China.”

“They can stay out of it,” he replied darkly.

“You won’t be able to dodge them forever.”

Vera, feeling a little lost by their argument, went back to watching Mila skate. How cool was it that she would be sharing a rink with both Yuri Plisetsky AND Mila Babicheva, if only for a day?

Mila’s short program practice run soon ended. She glided over and grabbed a water bottle, listening while Coach Feltsman critiqued. However, she soon spotted Vera and leaned over the rink wall.

“So this is the little kitten you’ve adopted, Yuri,” she said with a wide grin.

Vera blinked. “Kitten?”

“Shut up, hag!”

“I can still lift you.”

Yuri groaned in annoyance. Mila turned back to Vera.

“What’s your name?”

“Vera Kotova.”

“Kotova, huh?” She laughed. “See, she is a kitten.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and went to put on his skates, grumbling all the while. Mila continued smiling after him.

“…Um,” Vera said as she tapped Mila’s arm to get her attention, “You’re my favorite female skater.”

Mila stared at her a moment before shouting, “Yuri! Yakov! We’re keeping her!”  

Yakov just shook his head at his students’ antics. “Mila, work on that step sequence again. Yuri, warm up.”

Mila returned to skating, while Yuri finished lacing his skates and went to the opposite side of the rink. Vera stood there not sure what she should do until Coach Feltsman snapped at her.

“What are you waiting for? Stretch and then get your skates on.”

“Y-yes, sir!”

It wasn’t long before she too was on the ice, working on basic drills before she moved on to practicing her jumps. Maybe it was because she had been watching Yuri and Mila practice out of the corner of her eye but a thought suddenly popped into her mind: What if she tried a double?

With that idea urging her on, Vera jumped higher and spun faster. A full rotation… 540 degrees… a full 720 degrees! Vera’s heart leapt in excitement for a split second. Then her blade landed wrong. She tried to counter-balance but it was too late. She hit the ice with a solid thump.

“Ow.”

The sound of blades gliding to a stop echoed in her ear. When Vera looked up, both Yuri and Mila were staring down at her in mild concern.

“I’m okay,” she said as she scrambled up.

“Vera!” Coach Feltsmen yelled from the side of the rink, “Have you been given permission to start practicing doubles yet?”

Vera glanced down guilty. “…No.”

The coach’s frown deepened, while Mila snickered.

“You fit right in.”

Vera blushed at the compliment.

“You botched the landing because your foot was angled sloppily,” Yuri commented.

She nodded and then glanced back over at Coach Feltsman with pleading eyes. “Can I try again?”

He stared at her a moment before answering, “We might as well see if you can manage a half decent double salchow before practice is over.”