#plus there’s an actual desk(!!!!!!) here and i’m more productive than i’ve ever been for the past few *years*

[deus-ex-mona]

✨cursed thoughts✨ only

[itsallyscorner]

“Move the plans”

Pairing: Florence Pugh x actress!reader (platonic)

Summary: Florence tells you to cancel your plans when she ends up in New York.

Warnings: Nothing really bad. Mentions lactose intolerance? Idk if that’s sensitive to people. Probably some spelling errors.

A/n: Hello darlings! I’m back from my unannounced break. I decided to write a platonic Florence fic because she’s a sweetheart and I loved her as Yelena! Also for those who follow me, don’t worry, I will be working on a sequel to my Tom Holland “Sour” fic!! But for now, please enjoy this fic!😚💕

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(Loml)

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

You stood backstage in front of a mirror, looking at your appearance and making sure there were no wrinkles on the dress you wore. Your hairstylist was behind you, fluffing your hair and managing the stray baby hairs on your head. You were currently at NBC Studios in New York City, about to do an interview with the infamous, Jimmy Fallon. Tingles buzzed through your skin as you heard the cheers and music from the stage. Jimmy’s voice can be heard faintly backstage, only adding to your growing excitement.

The sound of heels clicking approached you, it took less than a second for you to feel the warm presence of Florence behind you. The both of you were starring in the upcoming Black Widow movie alongside Scarlett Johansson; after months of working together and spending days hanging out, you and Florence had become very close friends. She was, without a doubt, your favorite person in the world. Since the moment you met her, she had always been the most sweetest and caring person you’ve ever met—and you were proud to say you had her in your corner.

You met Flo’s eyes in the mirror and bright smiles were instantly on your faces. Turning around, you open your arms wide, and wrap them around her. Bear hugs were a must in your friendship with Flo, you both just loved receiving hugs from each other.

“Ahhh! I told you that dress would be perfect for tonight, you look stunning!” She squealed, tightening her arms around you. A day before Jimmy Fallon, you and Flo had been at your place with your stylist, picking out which dress you should wear for the interview. The dress was casual, but the color was so ever vibrant that it made the dress pop.

You pulled out the hug and looked at what she was wearing. Her gorgeous blonde hair was curled into loose locks and her dress was just as vibrant as yours. The pink of her dress and the orange (yellowish?) of yours complimented each other. Which coincidentally enough, was a parallel of your lovely friendship with Florence.

“Me? Flo, you look gorgeous! I’m so obsessed with this look!” You help her twirl, hyping her up as she showed off her outfit. After sneaking in a little mirror selfie and posting it onto Instagram, the two of you were given a five minute warning from one of the crew members. You and Flo were moved to stand behind the curtain, waiting for your cues to walk onto the stage.

While the two of you were getting mic’d up, Florence leaned closer to you.

“Can I be completely honest with you?” She mumbled, her stare remaining on the curtain before her. Your brow raises in curiosity as your head slightly turns to look at her.

“Of course, hun. What’s up?” You ask, your attention on her. She sighs and leans even closer so only you can hear her.

“I feel like I’m about to shit my pants.” She admits, swallowing nervously. Your mouth gapes, “Did you have iced coffee too?”

Flo’s face scrunches up in confusion, “N-no! That was me telling you I was nervous! Did you have iced coffee?” She fully turns to look at you and judging by the look of guilt plastered across your face, you did in fact have iced coffee.

“Maybe?” You answer, though it came out more like a question. Florence rolls her eyes at you.

“(Y/n), how many times do you have to be reminded that you’re lactose intolerant?” She scolded you.

You scoff, holding a hand up at her, “Trust me, I’m reminded every time I sit on a toilet.” You shake your head, trying to refocus the conversation.

“This isn’t about my poor digestive system—why are you nervous?”

She sighs, “I don’t know why I’m so nervous, I’m used to doing interviews and stuff. But I haven’t been on Jimmy Fallon, and there’s an audience out there and I don’t want to mess up or accidentally spoil the movie.”

You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “You may be British, but you’re not Tom Holland. You won’t spoil anything.” You start. She quickly shoots you a look that screams, “you’re not helping”. You make a gesture physically telling her that you’re getting to the point.

“You’re going to be fine! I mean you did Jimmy Kimmel right? This shouldn’t be that different, it’s the same thing—just different studios, in different states, and different Jimmy’s.” You point out. She nods along as you continue, “Plus, I’m gonna be up there with you. You won’t be alone.”

With the help of your reassurance and witty little comments, Florence felt her anxiousness simmer down. They weren’t completely gone but the fact that you were gonna be up there together made her relax more. Being part of Marvel had its pros and cons. Sure, the movies are spectacular and the actors are outstanding. Though when it comes to doing promo for said movies, it can be quite stressful. It’s a known fact that Marvel and it’s executives can be quite strict when it comes to interviews with anyone involved in the making of their films—their strictness made sense, although for first time MCU members, it took some getting used to.

Florence smiles at you, “Thank you.”

You playfully nudge her shoulder with yours, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a kind smile.

The wholesome moment was interrupted by one of the stagehands telling you and Florence that the two of you were on in 15 seconds.

“Our guests tonight are making their big MCU debut in the new Black Widow film, please welcome (Y/n) (L/n) and Florence Pugh!”

⚘

“So in the movie, there’s three of you guys—where’s the other one?” Jimmy asked, motioning his hand to the small space between you and Flo.

“She’s at home I believe.” Florence answered, glancing at you. “She’s busy doing stuff, you know—adult things.” She added.

You took the opportunity to make a joke and said, “Yet here we are promoting her movie.” You roll your eyes playfully. The crowd bursts out laughing, along with Jimmy, who smacked his desk.

“You know, we deserve a raise for this.” Flo considers, going along with your joke. She slightly snorts and nudges your arm with her elbow. “We could take Scarlett’s check and just split it in half for ourselves.”

“Problem solved.” You shrugged, high fiving her.

Another round of laughs fill the room as Jimmy says, “So you’re both taking Scarlett’s money?”

Jokingly, you nod in approval, “By the end of this interview? Definitely.”

Dropping the bit, you shake your head with a grin on your face. “I’m kidding! I’m only joking, I wouldn’t do that to her, even if I were forced to.”

Jimmy moves on as a picture of you, Florence, and Scarlett pops up on the screen. The picture had been posted on your Instagram and was taken while the three of you were filming in between takes. You were taking the selfie while Scarlett and Florence were poking their heads out from behind you making funny faces.

“I can’t imagine how exciting it is to be on a Marvel set, and to even work with one of the first ever heroes in the MCU—that must be insane!” Jimmy exclaims, motioning to another picture of the three of you.

“It’s unbelievable. To work alongside Scarlett and to follow this kind of path that she’s paved in the MCU is an honor. She really was like our older sister behind the scenes, because she was always guiding us and taking care of everyone. She’s the best.” Florence responded while you nodded in agreement.

“I watched the movie last night and one of the things I enjoyed the most was the dynamic the three of you had. You guys were like actual siblings.” Jimmy mentioned, motioning between you and Flo.

Florence giggled before squeezing you into a tight hug, “Yeah, she’s my big sister.” You smiled beamingly, patting her cheek before she let go.

“No, really! She’s like my actual younger sister.” You tell the audience, who “awed” at the hug you both shared. “We spent months on this movie and we spent every single day with each other. By the middle of production, we were basically roommates.”

“Roommates?” Jimmy questioned, leaning his elbows on his desk.

“Because I was always at her house.” Florence answered in a ‘duh’ tone. “I’ve actually grown an attachment to (Y/n), she’s like my comfort blanket. So I need to have her with me at all times. If she’s not with me, I just won’t leave the house.”

“Speaking of your attachment to (Y/n), there’s this video of you that you apparently sent her?” Jimmy gestured at you, “And you posted it on your Instagram and now the whole internet is obsessed with it.”

“Yup, that’s the one.” You confirmed.

“I know there’s probably some people who haven’t seen it, so here’s the video.” The video of Florence popped up on the screen and began to play.

(This fic was based on this TikTok😭)

Jimmy looked at you and Florence in amusement, “Can we get some context?”

Florence waved her hand at the screen and said, “As you can all see, I’m very persistent.”

“This wasn’t your first time sending her these kinds of videos?” Jimmy asked. You shook your head, a feign look of annoyance on your face.

“No, she does this all the time.”

“In my defense, I was unexpectedly flying out to New York for a project. I knew I was gonna be in the city for a few days, so I decided to call (Y/n) and make the most of my trip.” Flo defended herself, slightly pouting.

You leaned your head on her shoulder, “To be fair, it was also our first time seeing each other since we wrapped Black Widow, and we really missed each other.”

“(Y/n), did you have to move any plans?” Jimmy turns to you. Florence does the same.

“You know what, you never told me if you had plans or not.” She squints her eyes at you. Your arms crossed while your body slowly sunk into the couch.

You pretend to fix your lipstick, quickly muttering, “I might’ve moved some plans around.”

Florence’s mouth gapes in shock, her entire body freezing. She grips onto your shoulder, “Wait, you actually moved plans for me?”

“I might’ve rescheduled a lunch with someone, but that doesn’t really matter.” You replied, trying to move on from the topic. Jimmy pointed at you, a giant grin on his face, “You actually moved plans for Florence!”

Florence’s mouth was still wide in shock, “I can’t believe you actually moved plans for me—(Y/n)!” She whined.

“I missed seeing you, so of course I had to move them.” You bashfully explained, the corners of your lips turning upwards. Florence pulled you into a hug.

“Gosh, you really do love me!” She exclaimed.

“I really do!” You said, your arms wrapping around her as well.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷 Tags:

*if there’s a line through your url, Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(*

Marvel cast/Avengers x reader tags ↴

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General tags (besties) ↴

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[miss--aura]

Saw your requests were open! I too love Fatgum so maybe an +18 plus scenario with some angst? Like maybe you were good friends but now both are stuck in limbo after sleeping with each other one night. Confused about what they are. Sorry if I'm not making sense.

Stuck In between

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x Reader

Warnings: angst, bad smut because I had a headache while writing the ending, idk what to put for warnings, banana milk sucks

Requested by: ness-is-a-vanillabean

On a serious note I decided I don't know how to wrote angst or if this counts as angst lmao.

It was a spur of the moment decision, at least that's what you kept telling yourself. You were drunk, and let your lust get the better of you and now you didn't know what to do.

You shouldn't have let Midnight convince you to go, you shouldn't have taken the wine glass offered to you. It was all just some big mistake that you made, and it landed you where you are now.

You haven't left your house in a week and you certainly havent been checking any messages on your phone. Luckily you could work from home, but you couldnt hide forever.

"God, I'm so stupid!" Slamming your head on your desk with a groan, tears forming in your eyes as you choke out a sob.

No matter how hard you tried it kept replaying in your head. The way his eyes seemed to drink you up, his hands caressing every inch of your body, the way he filled you up hitting the spots that made you forget your name.

Part of you didn't regret it at all, getting out all of the lust filled emotions was such a nice release to something you've been holding onto for god knows how long.

Yet, you couldnt look back on the memory in a fond light. Because in the end, you said I love you. You said I love you to your bestfriend, and now you couldn't even talk to him.

He'd called you at least 15 times a day since then, over 200 messages being left unread. You just had to go and be selfish, didn't you? Ruin the one good thing you had in your life.

You wondered how he was doing, not that you'd ask. But at the same time, you were his bestfriend and you confessed your love to him in a drunken haze and haven't spoken to him since.

All the ways you could've confessed, you had to go and do it when you were drunk out of your mind and being pounded into a mattress. Going back to work at the agency would be a nightmare now.

One week left until you actually had to go back to the agency. Meaning one week to figure out how to avoid Taishiro for the rest of your life. Did you want to avoid him? No, but you'd rather avoid him than own up to your own emotions.

Picking your head up off the desk you decide to actually do something productive for once. You needed groceries anyways and right now was the perfect time to do so, considering Taishiro would be patrolling the other side of town.

You quickly freshen up and head out the door, the grocery store being only a few blocks away so you could manage walking there and back.

It was a short walk, being about 15 minutes give or take a few. Now that you were scanning shelves you realized how long it had really been since you've seen, well, another human.

It almost made you laugh, how seeing really people made you feel better about the situation your in. Sucking in your cheeks you put a small case of banana milk into your cart.

Taishiro didn't really care for it, but it was almost a comfort item for you. He always said it just tasted like a banana, and it'd cost less to buy regular bananas instead. Though you'd disagree everytime he brought it up.

Sure, it tasted like bananas, but it is banana milk so whatever. Plus it came in cute boxes with a straw and who were you to deny something that looked so cute.

Making it to checkout, you place your items on the counter. Allowing the cashier to do their job while you let your eyes wander around the store.

It wasn't big, but it had a comforting feel. Maybe it was because you'd been feeling down, or maybe it was the way you'd been here so many times that the familiarity was comforting to you.

Never the less you give a small smile to the cashier, finishing the rest of your items as you pay. Fishing the bags into your arms as you start the short journey back to your home.

"Need help carrying those bags?" The voice made you freeze in place. There was no way this was happening, he wasn't supposed to be here. He was on duty, right?

"Listen we need to talk, you can't keep ignoring me."

"I don't wanna talk right now, aren't you on duty anyway? I have to go put these away." You start walking off, hurrying to get away.

"I'm a hero, I help people in need. You aren't feeling like yourself which means it's my place to help. Is it not?"

"I said I don't want to talk, I said something I didn't mean, and I have to face the consequences for that. Okay?"

"So you don't love me?" You swear you could hear the hurt in his voice, but you told yourself you were hearing things. You can't ruin this anymore than you already have.

You can't bring yourself to respond, quickening your pace as your eyes fill with tears. Trying to blink them away only causing them to slide down your face. Not that you bother to wipe them because you know Taishiro is still watching you walk away.

He doesn't like you like that, he's a pro hero, you're just an office lady. That's what you have to remember. Whatever you thought you had, was just you trying to convince yourself that something could happen.

It didn't matter if you wanted to run into his arms, nothing would change. You'd be the hopeless romantic who had feelings for a hero who didn't have time to waste on a relationship.

"Y/n wait! Stop walking so fast I can't keep up!" Taishiro's voiced filled through your ears, your heart melting at the sound. But for once, your head was in control. Head over heart, that's what your mom always said.

"Go away 'shiro." It came out more broken than you wanted it to and you knew he could see right through you as much as you wanted to hide away from your feelings your feet plant themselves no longer letting you move further.

Two arms wrapping around your waist in the tightest hug you've ever experienced. Stealing the air from your lungs as a small whine of pain escapes your lips.

"Y/n, listen to me. You can't keep avoiding me. I've been worried sick about you, can't you tell? I thought I was dreaming when you told me you loved me but just as soon as that happened you dissapeared. Please Y/n talk to me."

You shook your head more tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to speak without sounding like you were dying. Though it felt like you were.

"You don't love me 'shiro, I gotta get over you but whenever you're near me it makes it so hard. No matter how hard I try I keep falling harder."

"Who said I don't love you? Angelcake, you never asked me if I loved you. Look at you, what is there not to love about you? When you said you loved me I'd never been more happy in my entire life. So please, stop running away from me, I hate not being with you."

"'shiro..."

"Shh, let's get you home, I wanna show you how much I love you."

Arriving at your house, you force the key into the door as quick as you can manage. Taishiro taking notice to how desperate you were to enter.

Pushing the door open you realize how messy your house was, an awkward smile spreading across your face as you let him in. "Please excuse the mess, it's not usually like this I've just been having a hard time recently."

"As if it's any worse than mine, besides I'm not here to judge you." He grins placing his hand in yours and leading you to your bedroom. Seeing as he'd been here enough to know the lay out of your house.

Just as soon as you were in your room, he was all over you. Kissing you with so much passion you thought you were dreaming by the way he seemed to be bleeding out lust.

Taishiro opted to use his normal form in moments like this, his fat body not working when it came to the more intimate moments. Not that you loved him any less in any form.

You whine into the kiss, your body on fire from the arousal building up within you. Clawing at your close to get them off, desperate to have Taishiro's hands be on your bare skin.

"Someones needy, aren't they?"

"'shiro, please I want you. I've been waiting for this."

He hums, giving you a small nod as his hands sneak up your shirt. Helping you strip out of your clothes before falling suite with his own.

His hands grope your breasts squeezing lightly to get a reaction out of you. Which you give through a small moan. The noise is just enough to get him going though.

Spreading your legs and holding them open with his knees he slides his fingers over your folds, getting a grasp for how wet you were for him.

The more he teased the more you squirmed under him, small begs passing through your lips. Begging for him to hurry up.

"Taishiro, please stop teasing me I cant wait anymore~"

He only smiles in response, placing his cock at your entrance. Having done this just a week ago he was more than ready to plunge into the depth. Slowly thrusting into you allowing you to adjust.

You whine out his name, back slightly arching off the bed in ecstasy. Clenching around him your eyes clouded with list at the sensual yet familiar feeling of him filling you up.

He thrusts harder, finding a sweet rhythmatic pace that made the both of you feel good. Not too fast, but not too slow either. The perfect momentum between the two of you.

Leaning down to kiss you, he finds himself smiling like a little kid, happier than ever to be with you in this moment.

"'m close baby, where do you want my cum?"

"Anywhere, I dont care."

Satisfied with that response he thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his cum cover your lower abdomen.

"I told you I loved you babe, is that enough to prove it?"

"More than I could have ever asked for."

[youwontlikethisblog]

Betty, My Betty! Part 2.5 (Hopefully the last one)

Alrighty, I think this will be my last post for tonight? This morning? But it is still in the same vine of Armando being possessive so he is the main subject of this breakdown but I will also be discussing Mario a lot here so this in an attempt to be the final post regarding this episode will be a lengthy one.

Again I accidently bought the bootleg version of the novela so some scenes and episodes are missing as well as the chapters aren't titled.

We are in the same episode of Armando reacting to Betty having a boyfriend.

Right now Betty is exiting her office, she just hung up the phone with Nicolas who warned her that they needed to pay a loan to the bank because their 24 or 27 days were up.

Mario is leaning over Armando's desk and Armando is leaning forward as they are both discussing and whispering (that part is so short you can't really pick at what they're talking about but you can imagine what it is. I'm assuming that while Mario was telling Armando not to question or judge Betty on her personal life that Betty was in her office on the phone with Nicolas and when Mario leaned forward to talk to Armando Betty was about to end her call so they are essentially talking about how to go about finding out who Betty's boyfriend is) something I cannot hear. As Betty fully exits her office Mario moves from being up front to in the back of the room by the doors that take us to the meeting room. He looks Betty down and up as if checking her out.

This small frame(I don't know if when they were whispering it was them arguing over Mario's proposal of the plan or if Mario hadn't proposed it yet and it was just them talking about how to find out who Nicolas is because again, since this bootleg version isn't the complete one some scenes are missing so I could be wrong about this one! but the episode I saw on NBC showed the exact same scene so I'm going by the first "(red)" in the paragraph above) allows us to depict Mario coming up or starting to scheme the plan.

We know Mario Calderon will screw anything that has legs, wears skirts, and breathes and consents that is(<-hopefully). Every woman who has had a seggsual relationship with him has said so. Marcela warned Paty about it before they got involved so I'm assuming that in this scene Mario is checking out Betty to see if it's possible for someone to really love(lust) her and if not than he needs to figure out a plan and a way to convince Armando to follow through said plan.

When you're writing a novel you write down the key points you want to make but as you imagine certain scenes you really delve into detail of characterization. You make sure that whatever happens in that scene that your characters behave as themselves. So you really spend time getting to know your characters. This is a general rule of thumb for any creative writer. The plus of being a novelist or writing literature is that you can really go deep into details and write scenes in really long poetic ways. I don't know how to write scripts but I've read some from TV shows I've watched and they are written differently than a novel. Scripts have more dialogue than poetic descriptions and they are usually blunt with what the writer wants from each character in that scene.

For example: (Take this with a grain of salt I don't know how to write scripts I am going off based on how I've read them)

Ana walks into the room. The camera focuses on her face. There's lighting outside and we see the lighting flash on her face.

Julian turns to see her. He is surprised to see her. He thought she was dead. He stands up slowly. The camera focuses on his face and then Ana's.

She smiles at him, tears forming in her eyes.

"Is that re-really you?" He stutters. He then walks slowly towards her.

In a script you write where the camera goes, where the actors move, the facial expressions, the mood of the room, and so forth. Yes directors do have a say on how they choreograph scenes and actors can add their own two cents but script writers have a pretty good idea of everything that is going on the scene and why it is. If in novel writing(that's not the correct term) we focus a lot on how the reader will imagine the scene and being able to correctly and artistically discribe it as well as how they will understand it because we are not focusing on visual cues like script writers but rather focused on using words to be able to paint a inner visual picture than in scripts the writer usually focuses on tone and movement. The same rule still stands though; show don't tell.

Why do I even bring this up?

This helps us understand that what is shown here isn't just an accident. We aren't being fed what we're told, we are being fed what we see. What we see is the final vision of the writer. Fernando Gaitan was the only one to write this novel and he wrote every detail with the intention of it to mean something.

I have no doubt that the actors added their own flavor as they are excellent actors and the reason why we were able to fall in love with these character. The directing is amazing as well. The scene cuts, the frames, and the choreo are amazing(tho some stills are funny and y'all know which ones) but the writing has a lot to do with it. If anyone is a script writer or knows what that's about correct me if I'm wrong!

I say this because what we are being told and shown is that Armando had feelings for Betty and not a crush like Betty did. He actually cared about her, as a friend. I know many don't agree with that because Armando was a crappy boss. We see them always interact as boss and employee but the reason why I continue to bring up the fact that he started to blur those lines is because we were being told and shown that.

Armando is mechanical. He is emotionless to the outsiders. As he once told Betty that she probably thinks he is a man of ice and later on in the future we see Betty daydream telling Marcela that she knows Armando acts like he's got a heart of stone but deep inside of him he needs a lot of love. However Armando isn't a man of iron and he tells that to Betty himself.

We are told this but what are we shown?

We are shown an erratic, often driven by emotion, and neutronic person. Now the people he has surrounded himself with aren't the most loving and welcoming people. They are pretty judgy and stuck up. So often the emotions he shows and knows how to distinguish well are anger, frustration, and most of all being erratic with the emotions mentioned above. These emotions drive him. The people around him think that he is a man of stone and that nothing moves him. However we then meet a woman who isn't like that at all or like any of the people he has surrounded himself with.

This person is kind, loving, respectful, and sweet to everyone. She loves her job, loves her friends, loves her family and secretly loves her boss. In a very poetic way Betty is color in an otherwise black and white world. She brings warmth to Armando and because they work so closely, how is he not supposed to be affected by this? How is he not supposed to be changed and moved by this?

He is an awe of her morals, of Betty's qualities and her general presence and though we aren't bluntly told this by the characters themselves we are shown this and it's not by accident and not by mistakes of post production.

Take a break if you need it.

It isn't an accident that we see Mario so much in these scenes just standing in the background taking it all in because he truly is the mastermind behind Betty's downfall. He truly mapped out and planned the way to seduce Betty and how to manipulate Armando and didn't even care if it hurt her or his best friend. What he cared about was that his best friend remained President because titles mean everything to him. As we saw in the past when Armando and him were arguing over the deal with the Panamanian fabric seller, while Armando focused on how it not only affected him and the major shareholders but everyone, Mario reminded him that he was also a minority shareholder, but a shareholder nonetheless. Armando's inner turmoil was that he was jeopardizing the livelihood of not only the company's shareholders, and his family but the entire company's employee roster while Mario was more focused on himself, telling him that he too had a lot to lose but not understanding what really weighted down Armando's shoulders.

Think about it, Mario in a sense is a leech. He gets the crumbs of women Armando doesn't want. If I'm not mistaken in the spinoff Eco Moda Mario himself says that women only ever showed interest in him because they wanted to get close to Armando. Mario lives off of the crumbs of Armando, not only with women but socially. Armando is one of the major shareholders of Eco Moda, he's attractive, charismatic, and an important figure in society and not only among the Fashion world like Mario is. Mario Calderon wasn't going to let his best friend lose the title of being President for anything because than it would be bad for him. It would be bad for his reputation to have been his close friend and accomplice to Armando while also being a part of a disastrous presidency term in the company.

Mario is charismatic, one could even say a lot more than Armando seeing as I myself even like him even when I know all of this about his character. I find him funny, charming, and at times endearing but of course that's when you look at him on a surface level.

Mario Calderon is despicable. He is downright selfish and egocentric down to the bone. He maps out this plan so easily because he knows his two victims well. He has seen Armando's disagreements with Marcela, he has witnessed first hand Armando's change towards Betty and silently observed Betty's interactions with Armando. He himself has thrown out his conclusions on Betty's actions by a simple snip bits of conversation that he's either been in the room to hear or heard from Armando himself.

Who better to make Betty fall in love than Armando? Because Betty has those feelings there and who better to do be the one to do this than Armando? Not only because those feelings are there but because Armando can stomach the job. The man who is confused about his feelings and behaving erratically and emotionally driven than Armando?

Because Armando proposes for Calderon to do it. At first Calderon is grossed out by the idea but Armando presents everything telling him he isn't the boss, that he has no morals and he was perfect for the job. Mario agrees with all of that, even asks for a bigger percentage of shareholding and Armando agrees. This gives us the understanding that Mario would be willing to seduce Betty.

I realize this contradicts my own personal opinion that Armando agreed to do this because it meant he was saving Betty from Nicolas but lets remember that Armando was afraid to face those feelings and he wasn't even aware that they were there. Here Armando and Mario weren't talking about love, as he thinks Betty is so in love with Nicolas that he is her eternal love and that Nicolas would take advantage of that and poison her against them, they are talking about seduction, meaning seggsual. Which I've said before Armando thinks lust is love and therefore that if he ain't wanting to jump they bones in that instant that it cain't be love therefore my mans thought he had no feelings for Betty(idk why bc we do get two scenes where he checks her out briefly (I am sure of this because it's the episode where Betty tripped and was limping and when Mario brought it up Armando asked if she didn't already walk like that, if he had been noticing her walk than he would have been aware of the limp but his eyesight went from the top of Betty's head all the way down. Do with that information what you'd like :)) and where he gets jealous when Charlie Zas kissed her cheek(someone once said that they were celos de jefe and excuse me ma'am jealousy is jealousy and a normal boss would not feel that. If my boss or manager ever did that I woulda done been fired in that instant))

Take a break if you need it.

Okay return back to this scene.

While Calderon does this mila second rundown of Betty, Armando and him share a stare. Either Armando wants the room to himself or is looking at him for a confidence boost. Then Mario nods and lets him know he'll leave them be.

Armando sticks to the script by not removing his trust from Betty. Instead he encourages her and congratulates her on doing things well.

In this scene while Betty has been entirely focused on the work at hand and being professional Mario was busy assessing the situation while Armando... is hard to read here. He is keeping himself composed rather than being emotionally driven or erratic or neurotic. In truth he is showing one of his best traits so far, composure. When he is sure of what he wants to happen Armando is really good at keep composure, feelings at bay, and controlling the situation. Something he later loses as he begins to get more lost and confused in his own feelings and understanding them.

Betty here is endearing, honestly I find Betty endearing at all times lol. She's super cute and such a good sport since her character is written to capture your heart, not by sympathy but by empathy. Again just like Armando how are we not supposed to be affected by such a sweet character? Constantly putting her feelings aside for Armando's, who hasn't done that? We empathize with her because at some point or another we've been her and ironically it's the exact same reason why we sympathize and empathize with Armando because at some point or another we've all been there where we let the worse get the best of us and we've learned to live with it and deal with it same as he.

As Betty starts to leave the office Armando calls her name, stands up in a slow but steady way showing us that he is the one in control in this situation. His tone is controlled but not enough where you don't hear that resent.

"Betty you didn't hadn't told me you've got a boyfriend"

Betty looks taken aback by this behavior of his. As she stares at him a bit shocked and rocks on her feet, seeming uncomfortable with this but also worried.

Armando proceeds to say "and that that boyfriend is Nicolas Mora, your friend from university. The one you've got in Terra Moda" Notice how now there is a waiver in his voice and he no longer is being as composed or in control of his emotions. As he for split seconds allows those emotions of jealousy and possessiveness to sweep through his tone of voice.

In this scene Armando isn't so much giving us body language as he is stiff, showing nervousness and discomfort himself, often we see this whenever Marcela is interrogating him but he is giving us tonality in voice.

Again the sequence as he names the list of what and who Nicolas is shows priority. First, Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend, that guy she's talked about who she went to university with, and she's got him working in Terra Moda. His priority: Betty has a boyfriend. He knows who said boyfriend is and he knows what he does.

Betty tells him that she doesn't have a boyfriend: "Ay ay no Doctor, eso no es cierto." Betty normally has a waiver her voice whenever she's nervous or scared so it's not unlike her to have it here, she smiles and chuckles nervously. In translation what she says is lost so by interpretation this is what she said "Hmm? No sir... um that's not true."

Armando's tone is now accusing her. He seems angered by Betty's "denial" as he tells her "It's not true? I heard it-" we then get a frame of Betty's reaction. She is truly concerned over this as we later find out at the end of the day that she was worried that it could cause Don Armando to build distrust towards her. Again we are shown that Betty is keeping it all professional whilst Armando isn't.

"I heard when Bertha told you, right in front of me. [Y'all] started gossiping, didn't notice I was there. You both forgot about me, no Betty?"* He is shaking as if agitated and he sports a cocky smile because he feels like he caught her in her own lie.

[*]This could be taken in a double sense. In his eyes Betty was so excited about hearing that her "eternal love" called her that she forgot he was in the room and in a figurative way, Betty forgot him.

Betty's understanding of his behavior is rational. He's upset that she withheld vital information from him after she told him she had nothing else to hide(when he interrogated her the previous night) and this is related to a professional work related situation.

Armando now sports similar traits to that of Marcela when she is looking for reasons to act out on her anger. Armando is agitated as stated before and while Betty goes to explain herself Armando grabs his glass of whisky, not taking his eyes off Betty and drinks(cantinero, otro whisky!(Now his behavior here is very interesting because as he grabs the glass to drink from it he takes in a deep breath. At first I interpreted this for anger but after seeing it a few times I realize it's panic. While at first he was composed and sure of what he was feeling which was anger, now he is faced with uncertainty from feelings he doesn't recognize and he doesn't know where this conversation is going to head or how he'll react or feel so he enters panic mode)). She tells him that it was something the cuartel came up with because she once mentioned Nicolas and since then they haven't gotten it out of their heads that he is her boyfriend "I don't have anything with him."

Then relief starts to wash over him as Betty's final words are reassuring him that she doesn't have a boyfriend. In this frame Armando no longer has a drink in hand and he doesn't seem as tense as before.

"Definite? We're sure of that?"

Betty chuckles and nods and his tone of voice returns to being soft spoken and calm, even hopeful as he tells her "Okay, okay it was only curiosity." (What kind of curiosity tho?;))

Betty leaves his office and has a slight smile and was on the brink of a daydream when Sofia interupts her from doing that.

I have this dumb theory where Aura Maria and Freddy are in some way a parallel of Betty and Armando except that Aura Maria takes on the role of Armando while Freddy takes on the role of Betty and if y'all want I'll write a post explaining this.

Take a break if you need it.

Skip a scene we've got Armando interacting with Freddy. Usually everyone pays the burnt of Armando's anger and in this scene he looks anything but angry. He actually humors Freddy which allows us to know that after that conversation with Betty, he has one less problem(you know the one that topped all the others). He then laughs at Freddy(I find it ironic that Freddy told him that what Jenny and him have is strictly professional at which Armando laughs and repeats the same thing. The reason I find it ironic is because we as an audience know that what J & F have is not strictly professional and the conversation Armando just had with Betty wasn't strictly profession. In other words, Fernando Gaitan has a good sense of humor) and tells him to show him his lil dancy dance and leaves to go to Mario's Office.

When he enters his office he informs him he spoke to Betty about that infamous boyfriend.

"What did she say?" Mario asks.

"Well no, that she doesn't have a boyfriend." his smiles and says happily. He the catches him up on the gossip.

While Armando is now showing an array of emotion and excitement Mario is poker face, fidgeting with his pen and studying Armando.

He tells him "You know what this means? That I'm a happy man!" he chuckles and looks around the room as if really taking in the news and letting the relief settle in. "What a relief, finally some good news today, ah" he says the final part as if he were an italian chef. This lets us know that Armando is truthfully relieved to find out that Betty, his Betty is single and that he is still her special man.

In the previous post I talked about how Armando went about listening his excuses to start drinking early that day and how he basically went going from his smallest problem to the biggest one as he says that the one that topped all of his other problems was Betty having a boyfriend.

See, all his other problems were a cause of stress and anger, emotions he is very familiar with so they don't disconcert him however, jealousy or fear of losing Betty, are new territory for him that alone freaked him out but the fact Betty had a boyfriend was enough to just push the boy just close enough to the edge he needed a drink so early in the morning because it was anguish.

Mario tells him he has never seen him so relieved and happy to find out a woman doesn't have a boyfriend to which we pan out to see Armando roll his eyes and slouch against the chair, annoyed at Mario's insinuation once again.

Mario reminds him of the last time he saw that same expression on him which was when he found out some woman was separated from her husband. Armando then tells him not to diminish the good news because it meant Betty hadn't ommited any information from him.

To really bring this post to the full potential of it being analytical let us break this down.

Why was it important for him that Betty not omit information from him? Especially relating to something so personal and intimate of Betty's life outside of the office? (Again the argument that this is only about Eco Moda and Terra Moda are disproven in the previous post).

[EDIT: Sometimes as I write I've got two ideas at the same time and forget to finish writing them. It wasn't only important for the reasons mentioned below but because he does in fact want to know more about Betty as he later tells Bertha the same thing].

Armando went through the five stages of grief.

Anger, denial, anger, denial, more denial, and then moving on.

He did not accept that Betty had a boyfriend therefore when she told him she didn't he fully believed her, didn't ask more questions.

For Armando Betty's character means a lot. I don't mean the individual personification of Betty as a fictional character in this novela I mean as in her inner self and what she represent. To him Betty represent stability, comfort, unconditionality, honesty, and most of all fidelity and loyalty and the last three qualities are what he is always naming. If she withheld something from him it would mean that Betty was no longer that. She no longer would be an object of reassurance and comfort but like everyone else she'd become an unpredictable and untrustworthy individual in his life. Some one more that he needed to keep at arm's length or pretend around.

Armando has gotten a taste of being around someone who doesn't judge him when he is himself and doesn't hold it over him when he makes mistakes based on his neurotic nature or anger issues. Instead he has been around someone who understand he's like that, someone who is patient and knows how to call him out on it and how to handle his erratic behavior so he has learned to let his guard down little by little and found a niche of comfort in his assistant but if she lied to him it would take all of that away. It would be betrayal in his eyes.

That's why it was so important to him that Betty didn't keep secret from him. Especially seeing as they were forming a friendship that was based on honesty and respect towards each other. This explains why that was important to him. It's important for him to have trust in her.

However we ain't kidding anyone because his reaction was possessive over Betty because Betty has given all of these things to Armando, who has never really received them without some fine print, and he doesn't want to share her with anyone else. This is possessiveness and it is not love or romantic. It is a toxic trait because not one person belongs to someone and Armando feels that Betty belongs to him. Be it romantically, platonically, or work related, a person is a human being and they do not belong as an object or property to anyone.

Armando is a very emotionally immature individual and this shows us that.

Mario then proceeds to be his classical self, which is to sow the seed of paranoia in his best friend as he starts to point out that her friends wouldn't be saying that if Betty hadn't given them a reason. His hands clasped in front of him show a position of power. Right now he is holding the cards and he is well aware of that.

Right as he see the reaction he wanted from Armando he leaves him to ferment so to speak in the paranoia he has left in him. Armando becomes nervous all over again and susceptible to it.

He is left with himself and he says "Y quien es el.." now if you're hispanic or latino you'll find the humor in how that scene ends as he starts to sing in a sorrowful tone a very romantic and a song that I'd say most listen to when dealing with a break up "y en que lugar se enamoro de ti?"

Which translate to "And what is he like? and in what place did he fall in love with you?"

I won't read too much into that as I'm sure it was written in for humor or added in for the humor effect as we've had some pretty heavy emotionally driven scenes in this episode but I do think it's an ironic placement of humor.

Now to bring the final scene that I will be discussing regarding Armando finding out about Betty's boyfriend we come full circle with Armando asking Bertha about it.

He acts charismatic, composed and professional to get Bertha to talk to him.

"The subject is the following: I've got a long time working with Betty and It's just until now that I find out she's got boyfriend. Do you know who he is?"

"Well like really know? No, because she's so reserved"

He then with a pierced mouth nods. Again those feelings are creeping back up. I get it. He's feeling paranoia, distrust, betrayed, hurt, offended, scared, jealous, possessive and angry but this proves what I mentioned about Armando having his guard up at all times because he doesn't show any of this to Bertha, at least not enough where she picks up but because we as an audience are given so much detail regarding his character, we can.

Quickly he asks her "And you don't know how long she's been dating him?" brings us full circle again. The same tone he had with Betty when he told her that he was in the same room as her when Bertha said that she had a boyfriend, minus the smirk and actual reaction of his, once again proves that Armando knows when to show his reaction and how to be in control and composed.

Bertha proceeds to tell him the "actual" story in which she tells him "dating dating? No, but he does have her eating from the palm of his hand because she's stupidly in love with him." and we hear Armando gasp and say "No." we then get a frame of his face which shows us... the opiset of happiness, joy, relief, tranquility, peace, serenity but with someone trying to be composed.

Bertha tells him that Mariana read her the cards and said that he was Betty's dream man and that he was going to change her life and she was going to change his life. I don't care for that but for the sake of this breakdown I'll mention it.

We know that Betty's dream man is Armando, not Nicolas. However everyone else thinks it's Nicolas. Armando's facial expression shows someone once again panicking.

He not only finds out that Betty has boyfriend, now it turns out she didn't just omit something from him but lied when he asked her and to top it off she so happens to be stupidly in love with him and on top of all of that he is Betty's dream man and to finish it off, he will change her life and she will change his life in the mildest of riches, meaning with Betty becoming the sole owner of Eco Moda and Terra Moda, making her rish rish $$$.

This is when it no longer is just about his mixed up feelings for Betty but now the entire livelihood of his family and everyone that works for Eco Moda.

Eco Moda is Armando's pride and joy. He does love that company which is why he started that scheme in the first place because he didn't want to lose it, let his father down, prove Daniel right, and throw away 30 plus year of his father's work and life time(Also as we're told because of his goals). The company means a great deal to him and in ways he's not aware of yet, so does Betty.

However someone is aware of this, not to the deep knowledge that Armando has regarding whatever he thinks he is feels towards Betty but they've got some sort of idea regarding this and they innact and come up with a plan to secure the company, the presidency, and his statues and reputation.

Step one: Tell Armando that he needs to make Betty fall in love with him to secure the company. Women in love will do anything for the one they love therefore if he beats Nicolas to the goal we secure the company. It worked with Paty(he's stupid so his logic doesn't work)

Step two: Convince Armando that he is the right candidate for the job. If that doesn't work, manipulate him with paranoia and make him fear Betty. If that doesn't work, tell him you were sure that Betty was in love with him before you found out about Nicolas.

Step three: Tell Armando I will be in charge of all the corny details because he will freak out and get way over his head and ruin the plan.

Step four: make fun of him.

Step five: Go on a trip and write a letter that explains the entire plan in detail and leave it on my desk without telling my secretary to not let anyone touch it or go near it except Armando so that she can go into my office, and I know how she likes to be nosy, and she can then think it's in the wrong office and give it to her assistant who takes care of all of his stuff, literally, and she finds it, reads it and does exactly what I was afraid of and made my best friend afraid of as well and that will then bring her downfall, his downfall, therefore the entire company's downfall.

Step six: never realize how stupid I am or take full accountability for it and apologize sincerely for all the wrong and harm I have caused.

Obviously I'm not saying Armando is innocent or that he didn't do anything wrong. He did. He allowed his best friend to manipulate him when he said he wouldn't listen to him again(the panama thing), he allowed his best friend to make fun of Betty and was a coward to admit his true feelings not only to himself but to his best friend. He was a willing(felt guilty for it but nonetheless willing) participant in the plan.

By now breaking down these past episodes and scenes allows us to understand where Armando was coming from so we can sympathize just a bit for him and his confusion and how he was so easily manipulated by Mario, however this doesn't mean he isn't guilty. At the start of it he too to some degree thought no one could love Betty, (yes we later find out that he did care for her as he tells Mario that he feels endearment for Betty and he looks relieved to find that out. I will be breaking down that scene when I get to it) because of her physicality (I already talked about this but when the time is right I will go into deep detail regarding this part of Armando's character).

It is eleven AM. I have been writing this post for the past seven hours and I am beat and tired. I hope this makes sense.

Once again, 'til next time.

HAHAHA OKAY I FORGOT TO ADD SOME COMMENTARY ON THE REST OF THIS SCENE.

[Edit:

Bertha proceeds to tease Armando about him liking gossip and being Nosey. He gets annoyed at her but in order to get the information he wants he stays composed and tells her that he just wants to know about Betty.

"It's not that[I like gossip], it's just that this is about someone who is really close to me everyday-who I work really close with- and truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life. You know, one just imagine her a little ugly and with boyfriend...? You know? Why don't you tell me the whole thing?"

At first he is a being defensive while trying to justify the fact he is being nosey. His tone then changes to endearing as he tells her "truth be told I am a little curious about Betty's life." and his face goes along with the tone as he says "you know, one just imagines her a little ugly-" he catches himself and say "and with boyfriend...?"

Overall what we have learned here is that Armando is really good at dismissing his feelings on the spot, suppressing them, and running away from them(I too do that and it's a pain in the butt). He does this as a sport.

Bertha then tells him "The thing is that Betty doesn't like it much for you to know about her private life." and this again offends Armando as he straightens his face and stares at Bertha in shock and as Bertha says "How is it, Sir..." and he quickly sits down to listen to her. "that this morning when we left your office she pulled me aside and told me that she didn't want you to know about her intimate life?" he rubs his chin, eyes still on Bertha and whispers "Really?"

Armando knows that Bertha can't tell half a gossip so instead of asking her to keeping telling him, practically begging her to tell him the whole scoop he manipulates her by saying "If this is going to cause problems then don't tell me. Let's leave it as is, Bertha, thank you." his tone is somber to tug at her strings, how could she possibly leave this man curious over this juicy gossip? and how could she not tell the whole story? Especially because it's her boss?

Bertha chuckles and tells him that she, of course is going to tell him, that she is dying to tell him. Armando then tells her "Well then if this is between us two it doesn't leave the planet, go on, tell me how did it go?"

Armando starts to bit his nail as he listen to Bertha start from the beginning.

She tells him word for word what Mariana said about Betty's dream man. She's obviously describing Armando, but to everyone else that's Nicolas, so the impression or idea that Armando now has of Nicolas is that he isn't some loser or nerd or some nobody but he is an important man who is the type of man woman lust over. They will have an intense relationship that will be strong and that the man is fundamental for her life.

This describes a man that is both important and that will be for sure in Betty's life.

Now Bertha goes on to describe the man Betty told them about. He is desired by woman,tall, handsome, strong, isn't rich but has money, has a big car, and his name is Nicolas Mora. However Betty clearifies that she has nothing going on with him, that she just likes him and she feels a strong attraction to him but that nothing has happened between them.

Then Mariana tells her that something will happen because it will change both of their lives.

Take into account that though Betty's life in a personal aspect hasn't changed much in the professional aspect it has. She's got a respectable job, a boss who values her work ethic and her enough to hand over his company which means she's could be rich. She's abandon some of her morals to collaborate with her scheming boss and is doing things that aren't morally correct.

Armando's life has changed not only professionally but personally. For one he's begun to let his guard down and given more of himself to a woman he isn't in a relationship or knowingly attracted to, his relationship with Marcela is only getting worse and Betty is usually the center of their biggest fights, he has now built a friendship with said woman built on trust and respect, something he has never done with any other woman and of course professionally he has sunken his and his family's company into debt.

I'd say Armando's life is changing a lot and that's not even the peak of it. Betty's life is also changing a lot and they haven't even started dating.

Armando is aware of how Betty's life is changing on a work related level so he obviously believes everything Bertha is telling him because he knows things she doesn't know.

Impatiently and annoyed Armando tells Bertha to explain what she means by "it's going to change their lives." which again since he "knows" things Bertha doesn't, therefore Tweedledum has sowed the seed of paranoia and Tweedledee has given it the perfect terrain for it to flourish so Armando is now listening to Mario's voice that Betty could turn against them though the important thing to note here is that Armando isn't mistrusting of Betty instead he is really mistrusting of Nicolas, because again, who could really fall in love with "ugly" betty. Except that's a joke on it's own because the idiot was already having feelings for her.

They are interrupted by Guti Guti and this is where I will end this post.

Truthfully until next time. ]

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates -part three

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: sorry this one took a while to come out, i promise i’m working as quick as possible for you all, thank you for all the love it’s been amazing and so lovely. love u as always <333

words: 2,606 (a bit shorter soz)

“What if she comes over here?” Neville asked, watching around the shop to try and see where y/n was amongst the hoards of customers.

“She won’t, she’ll be busy.” George reassured him, trying to explain their game plan for the day.

Originally they’d wanted to get the girl’s furniture into the old storage room on sunday, but given the fact that both twins were hungover most of the day they decided it would be best to leave it until the next day. Not to mention that y/n would have been suspicious if they both disappeared downstairs without explanation.

Neville had agreed to help, knowing the new girl couldn’t run things on her own if Fred had helped him carry a bed frame into the back. Plus, he was their backup for distracting her.

“Okay but what shall I say if she does see me?” He pushed the redhead.

“Just say that you came to talk to me,”

“Okay, yeah…” That seemed to settle his mind for a few seconds as George grabbed his coat, heading to the door with his friend so they could slip away to the furniture shop down the alley. “But what if she sees me again? What should I tell her then?”

“Say you left something behind the counter.”

“And what if she sees me again after that?”

“Neville, we don’t have long, can we just get this over with?” George pleaded, sick of the constant questions.

“Sorry mate,”

“It’s fine, we want it all done by today so we can’t waste anymore time.” He nodded.

-

Y/n was showing a group of kids how the electric shock shake worked, much to their delight, when they returned with the first round of furnishings. As enthralled as she seemed, she was also facing their way, something which put Neville on edge yet again.

“Quick behind here,” George instructed, pulling the metal frame behind a nearby shelf and inching closer to the tills where Fred stood. “Oi, freddie!”

“What?” He groaned, not wanting to ask why they were crouched like freaks behind the wonderwitch display. “You guys look like perverts you know.”

“Oh great,” Neville groaned.

“Shut up, I need you to distract y/n… now!”

“No can do, I’ve got a whole line of people here I can’t just leave - thank you madam.” He handed the bag of goodies over to a little girl with a brief smile, before turning back to his covert twin. “Figure it out yourself,”

“Fine,” He grumbled, grabbing a boy that wandered past. “Hey, I’ll give you 20 galleons to distract that lady over there for twenty minutes.” Of course, the little boy nodded with wide eyes, taking the notes and running over to y/n, who he was pointing at. He pulled her away by her leather jacket, rambling on about products further away from the front of the shop.

“Perfect!” Neville regarded, standing up and helping George shuffle into the back room with small grunts of effort.

“Right we better be quick and get the rest, we only have twenty minutes now.” He laughed, racing out of the shop and down the alley again with a surprisingly excited whoop.

Y/n hadn’t thought it odd that this one particular boy was asking so many questions, or that he was dragging her all over the shop so she could show him how it all worked. Most of which she wasn’t too sure, but still muddled along.

“Do you want me to help you carry all this to the till?” She asked him, amazed that such a young boy could afford so many things in one go. He shook his head, checking his watch with a grin and rushing off in the direction of Fred, who sighed when he saw the small mountain placed before him.

The girl looked around, not having seen George wandering around like he usually was. When he wasn’t unpacking endless amounts of boxes, that was. But the man was missing.

“Oh hi Neville!” She called over, spotting her old boss as he tried to sneak out unnoticed. “What are you doing here?”

Fred watched from the till, wide eyed, hoping that the awkward man could lie his ass off just this once. George appeared from the old storage room, hoping to thank his friend for all the help now that they were done. That’s when he saw how caught off guard Neville looked.

“I- uh,” Please, please just say something normal, both twins begged, knowing how bad he could be under pressure. “I came to see George.” He finally blurted out, all of their attention on the wide-smiling girl before him.

“Oh that’s nice, how’s the pub doing?” She moved on, presumably taken in by his small lie. Neville managed to converse like someone who wasn’t hiding something now that the subject had changed.

“That was close,” Fred whispered. “Be more careful.” “Hey it’s not my fault she saw him!” George hissed back.

-

While y/n offered to make dinner that night, much to Fred’s delight as he hated working alone, George hid down in her new room, putting together everything and putting the finishing touches together for her.

“Thanks for helping me by the way,” Fred told her, reaching over her hands as she chopped up vegetables for him. “I tend to mess things up on my own.” He admitted.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” She teased, nudging his side and grinning.

Fred felt a pang in his chest, wondering whether or not she acted like this just for him. Or maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to. Still, being alone with her felt normal by now, and he enjoyed asking her things without his nosy brother around to lecture him on it later.

The music on the radio was faint as they chatted, but he couldn’t ignore the way the girl’s head bobbed along to the music. Like she was lost in the sound, but still present and attentive to everything he said. He had never met someone so happy with life, despite being given so little to start with.

Maybe that was the secret. The girl was so hard down on her luck, that anyone's kindness would have been more than enough to keep that smile shining. So, when she was offered another chance at freedom, she had nothing to be down about.

“Oh!” She stopped him mid-air, holding his wrist that held a bottle of tarragon over the sauce they’d been making. He looked up, surprised that she had actually reached out to him instead of just telling him to stop. Still, a little tingle ran up his arm, making his spine shiver out. “It’s supposed to be oregano in this recipe…. That’s tarragon- see?”

The girl took her hand away from him gently and turned the bottle to show him, the man nodded.

“Ohh- see I can’t even tell the difference.”

He was distracted, she was distracting him. But he was beginning to enjoy it, weirdly. He liked having her around, and he liked the effect she had on him.

“It wouldn’t have made a massive difference, but it’s better to be safe.” She chuckled, passing him the right bottle of herbs. “Sorry for grabbing you,” Her cheeks blushed as she spoke, reliving the second his eyes caught hers in confusion.

“That’s okay… I lik-”

“Y/N!!!” George called up the stairs, interrupting the pair as she turned to the sound of the other twin’s bounding steps nearing them.

Fred jumped slightly, only just processing what he was about to say. God he was going mental, how did he ever think that telling her he liked the way she pressed her tiny fingers to his skin would help anything.

Luckily he didn’t need to worry about it, he hadn’t actually said it. That’s what mattered.

“What is it?” The girl asked, laughing as she ran to greet his brother in the living room. He jokingly fell into her arms, pretending to be exhausted beyond help.

She laughed so loud that the men had no choice but to join in, entranced by the sound itself.

“I…. have a surprise for you!” George bolted upright, grabbing her shoulders with a smug grin and turning her towards the stairs.

“But what about dinner!” She asked.

“It can wait!” He drawled, putting his hands over her eyes and leading her gently down each step.

Y/n looked so happy with him. Her smile wider than he’d ever seen as his brother had joked around with her like they were best friends. He wanted that, but he didn’t know how to be that for her.

“Come on Fred!!” She called from a few steps outside the loft, obviously moving a lot slower now that she couldn’t see anything.

He followed, laughing under his breath at the excitement in her voice. At least she was still thinking of him. The girl screeched at every step down the stairs, worrying that she would fall despite George’s constant reassurance that he had her.

It was dark in the shop, but when the man covering her eyes stopped she could see a sudden few bits of light peeking through his fingers.

“Can I look now?” She asked, fidgeting on the spot.

“Okay… go on.”

The twinkling lights made her squint a little, contrasting from the pitch black of her makeshift blindfold. It took the girl a few seconds to realise where they were, her eyes scanning her surroundings like she’d been dropped into a field.

But then there was the till, and the counter… and the storage room. Except, it wasn’t the storage room anymore. It was covered in colour, and little tiny lights that strung across the ceiling. It was the stars again, like in the loft. There was a little window, high up on the wall, where the alley opened up and she could watch people wonder by all day.

In the corner lay a big bed, covered in piles of cushions and blankets that were also laid perfectly on a little armchair in the corner. Her guitar was propped up beside a small desk, with a yellow lamp shining down on a white, leather bound notebook.

“What is all this?” She asked, suddenly confused by the sight. Which made the twins chuckle slowly.

“This.. is your room darling.” George grinned, even wider when she spun around to stare at them both in disbelief.

“Y-you did this? For me?” Her finger pointed between them, which made Fred raise his hands up in defeat.

“Oh no… this was all George’s doing, just my idea.” He felt bad now, having taken on most of the shop’s responsibilities while his brother had made her surprise happen.

She flung herself to George, throwing her arms up around the tall man’s neck with a happy squeal. It looked so natural with them, the way he didn’t even seem shocked and just picked her off the ground for a second. It was Fred’s own fault for liking her, it was his fault for telling his brother, and now it was his fault that Georgie was a hero in her eyes.

“Go look around!” The girl nodded, amazed by all the different things that had been transfigured for her. Her hair fell over her eyes as she leant down, touching everything as if she needed to make sure none of this was a dream. She was perfect.

But she was so busy talking to herself with excitement that she didn’t hear the hushed conversation between the two brothers.

“Sorry freddie,”

“Huh- Why?” He snapped out of his pathetic daze, turning to his sympathetic reflection.

“Well I didn’t think she would react like that now did I?”

“It’s fine, I don’t care.”

“I wanna talk about the other night-” “Oh yeah… that, well I wanted to tell you that what I said then was nonsense.”

George frowned.

“What do you mean?” “I was drunk and just rambling on, I shouldn’t have said anything-”

“But you were so-” “Especially if it was something I didn’t mean.” Fred cut his brother off, which was evidently enough to shut him up for good. Instead he just let out a defeated sigh and went back to watching y/n scurry around like a puppy.

-

They drank again that night, to celebrate y/n getting a more permanent set up within the shop. Which of course had felt like the right idea at the time, but Fred wasn’t that into it from the first glass.

He knew that y/n was just a friendly person, and saw the brothers as equals, yet he couldn’t deny the way his heart panged when she tipsilly begged George to dance with her. The two of them did so for a little while, the other twin feigning being too tired to keep his eyes open, that way he didn’t have to watch them.

“I can’t go on!” His brother laughed, his footsteps pattering over to the sofa where he crashed beside the ‘sleeping’ fred. He opened his eyes. “Sorry mate did I wake you?” “You’re good. Think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” He told the two of them, y/n still twirling between the living room and the kitchen door.

“Noooo,” She whined, taking his arm and holding her whole body against it. He had to fight the urge to jump away, worried that she was going to tackle him. But she was just a bit wobbly. “Won’t you dance with me freddie?” She begged, her eyes staring up at him like two full moons.

“I’m sure George will in a moment,” His mouth said before he had a chance to stop it.

Idiot, she wanted you not your brother. This was your chance!

“He’s rubbish with the slow songs,” She giggled, focusing the man’s attention on the forgotten music that had, as she said, gotten much slower than their dance tracks. “Just one, then you can go to bed.”

“Alright,” He laughed lightly, seeing her cheer right up when he agreed. She wrapped her fingers between his, holding tightly, and let him spin her about for a few seconds until she melted against the redhead’s body.

The two of them swayed from side to side, completely immersed in the moment. The girl liked being held this way, though she would never admit that, but it was just something she hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing. The fact that it was Fred too, someone who she trusted, made the whole thing a lot better.

Fred heard the final notes of the song end, then waited for her to move away so he could leave. But no such thing happened. He looked up, seeing George fast asleep on the sofa and held back a laugh.

Y/n didn’t wake when he lifted her gently, one arm propping up her head and the other beneath her knees, and quietly took her down to her new bedroom one muted step at a time. All the while, her face nuzzled into his chest perfectly.

It was only when he laid her down on the bed that Fred got a good look at her face, until then he’d avoided staring for too long in case she thought he was weird. But now he could see her better, study her, take every feature in without worry.

“Fuck,” he whispered, gulping at the way she slept so angelically. Yeah, he liked her and that he could have dealt with. But now, in that moment lit only by a flickering beside candle, freddie understood that it was only going to get harder to ignore.

[everybodyscupoftea]

Ooo yes a part 2 for that new pike Jj

for sure for sure, gonna fix it!

(i know i said it’ll be up “in a bit” hours ago but time isn’t real anyway)

5 times she makes him suffer and 1 time they talk it out

same warnings as before :)

so you were pretty hurt, understandably so, jj had invalidated your feelings and, in your eyes, showed you exactly where your friendship ranked on his priority list. not a stellar night for the frat boy.

one:

sunday mornings were for brunch. jj picked you up and the two of you drove to a diner near campus. you’d been doing it for so long that all the workers knew you both by name and your normal orders. it started as a hangover thing freshman year but quickly turned into just a normal event.

that sunday, you got a text at the usual time, that read outside.

normally you’d go downstairs, but instead, you texted him not hungry and left it at that. your feelings were still pretty hurt and you’d rather have some space than possibly yell at him if he tried to push it under the rug or ignore that it happened all together.

before you had time to reconsider, he sent back i said i’m sorry

that strengthened your resolve and you put your phone down with an eye roll. he still seemed to be missing the whole fucking point.

two:

studying or doing homework in your room was never really the best option for you. for one thing, your desk was full of clothes and random shit, so anytime you wanted to do work, it had to be done on your bed. secondly, everything in your room became infinitely more interesting when the other option was homework.

so, you really tried to move around between the library and some coffee shops in the area to do your work and study. unfortunately, jj knew all of your study spots, and you still didn’t really want to see him.

it wasn’t even really about revenge, you really wanted to be the better person, rise above, all that jazz, but you were so scared you’d lash out and ruin things more than they already felt. plus, you wanted to make him suffer a little, and the dorm was the only of those places he couldn’t get into.

you’d told jj that you weren’t going to be in the library that afternoon, but he called you anyway.

“hello,” you answered, a little coldly.

“hey,” he sounded hesitant, “i got coffee and our table.”

“i cleaned my desk off so i’m just going to do the last bit of my homework here.”

“oh.”

“yeah, so i’ll talk to you later,” you said, trying to end the conversation.

“see you in class?” he asked, hopefully.

“yeah, sure.”

three:

so maybe you were still feeling a little petty. but to be fair, it was still fresh. you always beat jj to class, it was your first of the day and he had one before. the girl who sat directly across the room from you was sitting in the hall when you walked up, and you got an idea.

sliding down next to her, you cleared your throat, “hey, um, are you particularly attached to your spot in the room?”

she gave you a weird look, “i mean i’m not ready to marry it, but i like it fine enough.”

you laughed, “yeah, i was just wondering if you’d be willing to switch for the day.”

her eyebrows shot up, “depends on why. aren’t you and that blonde kid really good friends?”

with a sigh, you answered, “yeah, but he kinda blew me off the other day and it hurt my feelings. just trying to get back at him.”

she nodded, look of understanding crossing her face, “got it, we’ll switch for today.”

“god, you’re a lifesaver.”

reaching out to squeeze your shoulder, she said, “anytime.”

it was actually kind of nerve wracking waiting on jj to show up. you watched his look of confusion at the girl sitting in your normal seat next to his and then him scanning the room to find you. his face absolutely fell when he saw you sitting and you averted your eyes, not wanting to be caught staring.

the entire class you could feel him staring at you, and every time you looked up, he was pouting. you had a class across campus right after that one, so as soon as the professor dismissed you, you were packed and gone before jj could get across the room.

four:

since you’d pretty much locked yourself in your dorm room outside of class and jj couldn’t find you, he’d resorted to blowing up your phone.

hey we still on for lunch today?

guess not about the lunch...library later? i need some help with finance

wait, what problems do we have to finish for stats

want me to bring you some coffee tomorrow morning, i can swing by dunkin on the way to class

eventually ending with one that pulled on your heartstrings a little.

are you ever going to talk to me again?

you typed how’s it feel asshole into the message before thinking better of it and deleting it without sending. 

five:

about halfway through the week, doing homework in your room just wasn’t cutting it anymore. you couldn’t focus and every time you sat on your bed, you immediately grew tired. eventually, you decided to just face the music and head to the library.

you were kind of hoping jj wouldn’t be there and that your table would be empty, but it wasn’t and he was. freezing, you ducked out of view before he could look up and see you. your options were very limited of places you could go without having to actually walk past him.

with lack of better plan, you sank to the ground and leaned against one of the stacks of books, pulling your stuff out to get some work done. it wasn’t comfortable, but you already felt more productive than in your room.

and then he found you, sitting on the ground, crouched in a weird position, trying to do some history work. he cleared his throat, arms crossed in front of him, “comfortable?” he asked.

“yes.”

he rolled his eyes, “you’re really going to sit on the floor instead of sitting with me?”

“for the time being.”

“come on, just give it up.”

you cocked your head, glaring at him, “give it up? give what up?”

jj sighed loudly, “you know what i mean, this is getting ridiculous.”

straightening your shoulders, you ignored the pain in your back, and glared at him, “my feelings aren’t ridiculous. i’ll see you around, maybank.”

+ one:

you finally decided to air things out four days later. jj was sitting at your usual spot outside the chick-fil-a, not paying attention, when you sat down across from him. he looked up, clearly ready to say something, and froze when he saw you.

“haven’t seen you in a while.”

“i’m ready to talk about it,” you told him, unwrapping your food.

he nodded, “okay, i’ll start with an apology. it wasn’t cool of me, i’m sorry.”

you raised your eyebrows, “not cool of you seems a little understated.”

with a little laugh, jj added to the apology, “yeah, i got distracted and i forgot what day it was.”

“it happens i guess,” you told him, “but i was mostly upset because it made me feel like an inconvenience to you. i know your life doesn’t revolve around me and i know studying on a saturday afternoon isn’t as fun as a party, but a little heads up would’ve been nice.”

“it’s not that,” he defended, “you know i love spending time with you right? no matter what we do it’s fun because it’s us. i’ve never had a bad time. and by the way it took me five hours to do my finance homework without you.”

you laughed, “yeah, it was hard. and look, i don’t want you to lie to me, it’s okay if you didn’t want to come. just tell me next time.”

“i know this seems like a cop out, but my phone was in my room charging, it died around when we started drinking and by the time i was drunk, i’d forgotten i’d moved it in the first place.”

“i believe you,” you told him with one last sigh, finally letting it go.

“hugs?” he asked, standing and holding his arms out.

you smiled and stood, walking around the table to hug him. he squeezed you close, burying his face into your neck, and whispered, “there, best friend position restored.”

“yep, my best friend,” you responded weakly, heart sinking a little at the last word.

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Sorry you’ve had to wait a few more days. i had a much needed few days holiday in Devon. And I realised it was the first time since February that I’d travelled more than 20 miles from home!

Anyway, we’re on to chapter 7. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

Previous

AO3

Chapter 7: From Feedback to The Force

I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye. A converted barn, situated at the end of a leafy country lane, surrounded by fields full of cows and maybe a horse or two. Jamie’s office will be at one end— all exposed beams with classic mahogany and leather furniture. Perhaps chickens will be roaming around outside as tractors pull up to deliver vegetables straight from the neighbouring fields.

This image begins to fade as I follow my Sat nav instructions and take the next junction off the motorway. Country lanes look to be few and far between in this urban sprawl. Signposts along the tarmacked road point to a series of industrial estates. At the fourth such sign, I’m instructed to turn left and in three hundred yards will have reached my destination.

Having parked up, I make my way towards the large, uninspiring building which resembles some sort of aircraft hangar. Its grey concrete and corrugated iron walls match the overcast sky and the roughly surfaced car park. The only colour in this landscape is provided by the bright orange FraserFood logo emblazoned above the loading bays.

There’s a single door to the right with an intercom. I press it and wait a few seconds.

“Hello, there.” A cheery voice greets me. “Can I help ye?”

“Yes. Hello, I’ve an appointment with Ja— Mr. Fraser, Jamie. It’s Claire Beauchamp.”

“Aye, come on through. Jamie is expecting ye. Down the passage and third door on the left.”

I step into a long corridor, painted an unoriginal white. Fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling cast a harsh brightness. The floor is covered with grey carpet tiles.—the same as in thousands of other working offices across the country.

What sets it apart and brings character to the otherwise anonymous environment is the artwork. Colourful photographs line the walls — a bowl of strawberries, their red glossiness accentuated by the white porcelain; a perfect corn on the cob, rivulets of melted butter flowing around the kernels; a plate of steaming tagliatelle, the parmesan shavings falling gently onto the pasta. Then, as I move further towards the office, the photographs change to a series of images that I instantly recognise, La Boqueria, one of the food markets in Barcelona.

I pause for a moment in front of a picture of one of the stalls selling spices. Strings of different chillies cascade down from the metal frame of the stall. The vibrancy of that market was intoxicating, the noise, the colours, the aromas. I remember wandering from stall to stall snacking on fat, juicy olives, slices of spiced ham and wedges of refreshing melon, just soaking up that atmosphere.

My stomach automatically rumbles at the memory just as Jamie steps into the corridor.

He laughs at this unconventional greeting. “And good day tae ye too. Ye found us alright then?”

“No problem. Sat nav brought me straight here. It’s—“ I stop myself before I say any more, but, as usual, my glass face gives me away.

“C’mon. What is it? It’s no’ what ye were expecting, is it?”

“No— yes—no. It’s fine. It’s just, well, I was expecting something more, er, rural… rustic, you know.”

He sighs, but I can tell that he’s not offended. “What, ye mean like on a farm? Wi’ chickens running around? And tractors bringing the vegetables straight from the fields?”

I nod, feeling not a little bit foolish.

“And down a wee winding country lane, that yer lumbering great vans and lorries have tae drive along? Wi’ no easy transport links fer all the deliveries? And having tae deal wi’ all the food hygiene standards in some great old barn?” He laughs. “Trust me, it may no’ be photogenic but it’s the best place fer the business.”

He takes my arm. “Let’s go intae ma office and I’ll make ye a cup of coffee.”

My stomach rumbles once more. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any of those lovely Spanish biscuits too, have you?”

*********

The display of colourful photographs continues in Jamie’s office. I don’t recognise the scenes, but, I’m guessing these are more local— fields of corn bordered by old drystone walls, hedgerows bursting with dark jewel-like brambles. I pause at a picture of an ancient stone mill, the calm water of the mill pond reflecting the rundown building perfectly.

“That’s a bonny picture, is it no’?” Jamie’s voice is low in my ear.

I turn around. He is standing behind me, gazing intently at the picture.

“It is. Where is it? I’m guessing it’s somewhere here in Scotland.”

“Aye, it’s the old mill at Lallybroch.”

“Where you grew up?”

He nods. “Generations of ma family used that mill tae grind flour fer them and their tenants. It’s empty inside now. The wheel has long since rotted away. Jenny and I would escape there whenever chores were tae be done. She took the photo, weel, most of the photos here actually.”

I study the photograph more closely. “She’s very talented as a photographer. Is that her job?”

“She’d love tae have done that, but once she married Ian and the bairns started appearing, she hasna got the time. Mebbe one day.”

He moves past me towards his desk and I catch a hint of his musky cologne. I find myself comparing it to the slightly synthetic cologne that Frank always favoured. I decide that Jamie’s is preferable. It’s more real, somehow, earthy and, well, more masculine.

“... does that sound ok?”  

I realise that whilst I was considering male scents, Jamie had been asking me a question. “Er, sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“Am I really that boring tae ye?” He laughs. “I said I would make ye a coffee and invite Rupert tae come in and join us. He’s our Head of Product Development. Will ye no’ take a seat?”

I sit down on one of the chairs arranged around a circular meeting table and take a good look at the office while Jamie makes a phone call. The walls and ceiling are the same uninspiring white, livened up by all the photographs. There’s a couple of framed photographs near Jamie’s chair that seem to be more personal. I’m too far away to be able to see clearly, but they look like children... his nephew and niece perhaps?

Jamie’s ‘L’ shaped desk is made of grey wood, as is a tall bookcase and this meeting table. Simple, but clearly a considered purchase, no haphazard grouping of random furniture. The desk itself is remarkably free from clutter— just a laptop with two huge screens and a black leather document wallet. The contrast to the clutter on the desks in my office and home couldn’t be greater. Not that my clutter isn’t important to me—a collection of pots and dishes from my uncle’s archaeological digs plus a paperweight and letter opener that I remember, as a young child, at my parents’ house. Then I realise, looking at the family portraits surrounding Jamie’s desk, that he doesn’t need to gather mementoes from the past. He has a living, breathing close knit family creating memories all the time.

I’m well aware that most of my friends have more of a family than I have, or have ever had, and generally I’m fine with that. But every now and again it hits me right in the gut—this pang of...not loneliness, but more of being disconnected, rootless.

Before I can dwell on this,  there’s a faint tap at the door. It opens immediately and a woman stands in the doorway.  She’s easily past retirement age, quite short and… is sturdy a polite descriptor? Well, short and ‘motherly’ in appearance.

She’s very smiley too. Her eyes crinkle as she grins broadly before speaking. “Jamie, lad. I’ve come tae see if ye both want a coffee. I dinna mind making it. And mebbe a few biscuits?”

Jamie steps away from his desk. “Ah, Mrs. Fitz, how d’ye always ken what I want? Coffee would be grand. And fer ye Claire?”

“Coffee, please. Lovely. White, no sugar. Thanks.”

She looks at me for a moment before Jamie makes the introduction. “ Claire, this is Mrs Fitz. She’s worked wi’ me since I started and I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out her.”

He reaches across and pats her arm gently.

“Mrs. Fitz, this is Claire, a friend of mine. She’s been trying out our Spanish dinner party menu and has come tae meet wi’ Rupert tae give him her opinions.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitz.” I hold out my hand.

She takes it in both of hers. “And it’s lovely tae meet ye too, Claire.”

She turns away and heads out the door.

“Right-oh. Two coffees it is then,” she says clearly, then carries on muttering under her breath as she leaves. “Friends, is it, then? A bonny lass, sure enough…”

Jamie smiles apologetically. “Mrs. Fitz can be a bit, weel...she’s been working with me a long time. She’s like a second mother tae me…”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but I know what he’s thinking. Why can’t people understand that we’re friends, that’s all?

*******

Rupert is a complete delight, but somehow not what I was expecting. He rushes into the office just as Jamie and I are drinking our coffees. Nearly as tall as Jamie but quite a bit broader with a large beard, like an overgrown teddy bear, and clad in a sweatshirt and baggy ill-fitting jeans, he looks as if he would be more at home on a rugby pitch rather than in a development kitchen. With Jamie now standing next to him, the office suddenly feels rather small.

Jamie makes the introductions and we settle once more around the table. Rupert places his notebook and pen on the table.

“Ye dinna mind if I take a biscuit or two, do ye?” He asks, with a smile. He knows how tasty they are.

Jamie and I shake our heads and Rupert reaches out and takes two in his large, fleshy hand. He starts to eat, sprinkling crumbs all over his notebook.

“Ye canna take me anywhere,” he says as he tries to sweep the crumbs into his hand.

Jamie laughs and playfully punches Rupert’s shoulder. “Weel, ye can… but only the once, mind.”

There’s an easy camaraderie between the two of them. I’m guessing that Jamie has worked with the same people for quite a while. It’s good to see.

Rupert swallows, picks up a tissue and wipes the stray crumbs from his beard.  “Right-oh. So, Claire, thanks fer doing this—“

“No, I should be thanking you. It was a great meal.”

“Weel, glad tae hear that, but I would appreciate any improvements we could make. Is there anything we need tae change?”

I’ve been racking my brains all the way here, trying to think of something constructive to say rather than just reeling off a list of compliments, nice as that would be for Rupert and Jamie. And, honestly, I don’t know what more I can add. The food was excellent, the wine matched perfectly and the olives were a thoughtful addition.

I tell them all this and Rupert solemnly notes it all down. Sitting there, side by side, elbows almost touching, they look for all the world like two proud parents being complimented on their child’s talents. But they have every right to be proud.

“And nothing else?” Rupert persists. “Nothing we could do better?”

“Well, a couple of tiny suggestions. Maybe a few more pictures with the recipes would help. I’m not the most gifted cook.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jamie trying to suppress a smile. He’s never seen me in the kitchen, maybe he’s imagining me as some sort of culinary disaster area. I vow to prove him wrong at some point.

“And,” I continue as Rupert scribbles in his notebook. “Perhaps add a couple of suggestions to complete the Spanish night. I made sangria to start the evening. Could you add a recipe for that?”

Rupert closes his notebook with a flourish. “Right then. Thank ye sae much fer that. Glad yer friends all enjoyed the food.”

He stands up, shifting the table as he does so.

“Weel, bye then, Claire. Lovely tae meet ye. Hope tae see ye again.” He shoots a quick look across at Jamie before leaving.

“Rupert’s a lovely guy,” I comment as the door shuts behind him.

“Aye, he is that,” Jamie shifts in his seat. “Listen, I need tae ask ye a favour.”

“Another one,” I joke. “Wasn’t the dinner party enough?”

I add a sigh, purely for dramatic effect.

“Ye can say no if ye want tae,” he continues. “But I was wondering… weel... Ian, that’s Jenny’s husband, his rugby club is having a charity dinner dance a week on Saturday. Jenny’s bought two tickets fer me and a plus one. D’ye fancy it? It would help me out of a wee bit of bother with ma sister.”

Now I’m intrigued about his “wee bit of bother” with Jenny. I don’t want to end up in the middle of some sibling squabble.

“How so?” I’m not giving an answer straight away. At least not until I know what the bother is.

“Jenny bought the two tickets fer me a couple of months ago. I think she was assuming I would bring Laoghaire. But ye ken what happened there. Anyways, she asked me yesterday about it, and ever so casually suggested I might bring Kelly— that was ma date the other night.”

The pattern of Rupert’s crumbs on the table appears to suddenly be of great interest to him. He studies them intently as he talks, his ears turning slightly pink as he does so.

“And?” I prompt him.

“And, I told Jenny that after Laoghaire and I broke up, I didna want tae disappoint her about the dinner and so I’d already asked ye tae come along. As a friend,” he hastily adds the last part.

So, what do I decide? I do love the opportunity to have a bit of a dance and rugby club dos are usually a bit of a laugh, in my experience. And of course, I know Jamie is offering as a friend, so I’m not worried about that.

“Why don’t you want to ask Kelly then?” I want the full story before I give him my answer.

“She’s a nice enough lass but I didna think we had any spark. Plus she was trying too hard. Fer example she asked me what films I liked, then when I told her, she was all ‘no way, they’re ma favourites too’.”

He adds gestures at this point, to demonstrate Kelly’s actions, one hand flapping excitedly, the other resting on my sleeve, lightly stroking through the fabric of my shirt. It feels—

“Apparently we have exactly the same taste in films, music, food, drinks, television and holidays,” he continues as he sits back and folds his arms.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.” I joke. I can still feel the sensation of his hand on my arm.

He looks up at me and frowns. “I’m no’ joking. Ye would be helping me if ye came as ma plus one.”

“Ok then. I do know that I’m not on call. I can come and be your wingman, if you like. Just one question. What are your favourite films?”

“Star Wars.”

This wasn’t the answer I was expecting. He doesn’t seem like a typical fan. Maybe he has a dark side that I haven’t yet seen, with a secret stash of Star Wars figures and multiple light sabres.

“I’ve never watched any of them.” It’s true. I seem to be in the minority but I just don’t get the appeal.

“And I can tell from yer face exactly what ye think of them. But they’re classics, weel most of them, anyway,” he starts to enthuse.

I shake my head. I can’t see that he will ever convince me.

“Well, Sassenach, have I got a treat in store for you!”

And, worryingly, it seems that he’s up for the challenge.

[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter One

-You Are My Favorite Distraction-

It wasn't that Harry didn't love his job. He did and he loved the company, but the building was understaffed, and Harry was doing five different jobs at once. His official title was Chief Media Officer, however at the moment he also filled in the roles of Chief Communications Officer, Chief Costumer Officer, Chief Listening Officer, and Chief Brand Officer. Granted most of those jobs could he pushed into three separate ones however the Manchester Branch wasn't exactly paying much attention. To say he and other Chief Officers were overworked and underpaid for all the work they did was an understatement. It came as no surprise when Janitors started getting fired then lower employees and then finally the first top level employee was let go. Despite Liam, Chief Networking Officer along with Chief Compliance Officer, Chief Operating Officer, and Chief Human Resources Officer, in constant communications with the other Chief Networking Officer at the Main Branch located in London, nothing was ever done about it.

"Hey Haz, what do you think is going to happen?" Liam asked entering his office with his laptop and a few files.

"I think we should probably pack up our desks and find new jobs." Harry said as he continued to type out an email to one of their Manchester customers.

"But which position do we apply for?" Liam questioned.

"Your favorite." Harry guessed with a shrug, "can I help you with something Liam?" Harry asked looking over at his best friend since childhood.

"Yes, actually you can help me decide on what to do if- no when we get shut down." Harry sighed as he saved his work then stood up and rounded his desk, "I like working here...well not here but here."

"Yeah, so do I and I know it sucks because you done everything you could, we all did, but it's not our fault." Harry told him.

"I know that. I just-" They were interrupted by Liam's phone ringing inside his office across from Harry's, "We'll talk later."

Harry has worked for Preserve Earth ever since he was eighteen working in the warehouse having to wear tacky white polo shirts. Back then Preserve Earth was still new and was barely considered more than a small business. They only had biodegradable dinnerware like cups, silverware, plates, and bowls. Standard things. They had just started biodegradable bags of various types when Harry had applied for an office position in London. He had worked in customer service on the second floor for two years. Then the accident happened, and Harry hadn't been able to stay in London after that and had applied for a transfer to the, at the time, new Manchester location. He had started interning with the Chief Media Officer and then had gotten a position as his assistant. Fourteen months after that he had left to train new employees at Liverpool and Harry had been given the job six months later when he decided to stay in Liverpool.

He had been the youngest Chief Officer of the entire company which had gotten a lot of attention from everyone. Everyone had told them it was a bad idea having someone in their early twenties be the front man for the media. The President of the Manchester Branch had stood by his decision and by Harry and Harry had made sure to do his absolute best in his work and it showed by twenty-five, two years after being put in his position Harry had been wanted as the Chief Media Office by large corporate organizations all over the UK and even some from America. The Manchester branch revenue grew in twenty-eight months more than it had grown in the past four years it had been opened. The President had retired soon after and a new president came, and Harry had tentatively brought up social media and how it could grow the business and connect to the customers better and the new CEO had agreed to a trial run of six months. Harry watched a few training videos online and then started ''Preserve Earth Manchester'' social media profiles on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook. The first two months only showed minimal growth as Harry grew the platforms, but then he wore a pink suit and apparently it was very controversial, and his picture traveled everywhere and then they found his personal Instagram account which promoted his work because he did love the company and he really did love the products. Then the company had to start limiting sales of the products they sold to regular people like backpacks and water bottles and even ecofriendly biodegradable phones cases. Even then it was in high demand and had shipping wait times.

Harry had been called into the President's office while he had been on the phone with the Owner of the company. He had apologized as soon as he entered the room then had sat there quietly for two hours not able to listen to anything they said. When he had ended the call, Harry had wasted in silence for five anxious minutes before he had grinned and told Harry that he was welcome to keep the social medias and that he needed everything Harry had done and read by tomorrow so he could send it off to the other branches. However, they had been a few companies that had left the company as they didn't think a man in a pink suit was a good representation of the company. Or whatever the bullshit excuse was. Every President and the Owner had done a press release stating,

"Preserve Earth is an ecofriendly, biodegradable, and compostable company that is LGBT plus friendly. Our employees are encouraged to wear whatever they feel comfortable in as long as it is appropriate for their position. We encourage all of our employees to be their authentic selves and to be whoever they want to be and to wear whatever they wish to wear. The Chief Media Officer dress policy states and I quote, "The Chief Media Officer must wear business formal attire during press releases that will be aired on television. They are not required, but are encouraged to have their skirts, if they so choose to wear them, at their knee. However, they are allowed to wear them to their thighs, miniskirts are not allowed it must be two to three inches below the bottom. This is to prevent cameras from getting inappropriate shots of a person as they bend, squat, walk up or down stairs, or sit down this is not an act to prevent 'distractions' in the workplace. The Chief Media Officer is required to wear business casual attire to work unless told otherwise." With that said Mr. Styles did not break dress code policy and therefore will not be 'held responsible'. That is all thank you."

Harry had been very embarrassed and had apologized multiple times to his boss, but he had laughed and waved it off.

"Harry I'm forty-three years old and even I know that the world is changing for the better. You can wear whatever you want as long as I do see Harry junior or his two buddies down there. Got that?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Get back to work kid."

Harry had loved his boss and had been saddened when he announced his retirement only three years ago. Mr. Fritz wasn't a terrible boss right away, but after eighteen months Harry and everyone else got a pay cut. Which...okay it was reasonable since they wanted to divert some of the money towards opening another branch and Harry was paid a lot. Then six months later and there was another pay cut. Then employees started getting fired and well...here they were. Three years with a new boss and completely overworked and fearing they were next on the firing list.

"Excuse me." Harry looked up from his computer to see a woman dressed in a black blazer and skirt combo.

"Yes?"

"I need to speak to Mister Payne where is he office?"

"Directly across the hall he's on the phone at the moment."

"Thank you." Harry didn't bother reminding her he was on the phone and went back to typing when he heard another male's voice coming from Liam's office. Harry paused furrowing his brow as he listened to the conversation.

"Sir-" that was Liam, Harry knew that for sure.

"Your job was to contact my networking officers. Miss Caldor is head of Networking at the London branch. I had to find out this branch was broke was through my financial officers. I understand everyone here is overworked and I apologize for that however you did not do your job-" Harry stood up and stormed across the hall entering the office.

"Who the hell are you talking to like that?" Harry asked only faltering slightly when he noticed the large group of people in Liam's office one of them being the CEO/Owner of the entire company.

"Excuse me." Louis said raising a brow.

"Liam has been in constant communication with Eleanor since he started working here five years ago. They exchange weekly emails he told her when we got the first pay cut then the second then the firings. I've been in constant communications with her for over a year. So don't you dare come into his office yelling at him as if he's on the wrong when it was your side who didn't do their job. We barely have enough time to pee during the day let alone write twenty-five emails to your employee to make sure she takes us seriously. I don't give a damn who you are I will not allow anyone who has stuck out this long with this treatment to be blamed while your bullshit Networking officers spent three weeks in the Bahamas two months ago for doing excellent work while this man has put in one hundred hours a fucking week with three pay cuts in less than two years. Also let's not forget that when you first opened your second branch you promised one to two annual visits only for you not to show up for the past six years. So how about you talk to your officers before you come over here and start pointing fingers at people who barley sleep five hours a night for your company. If you would have let Liam speak before jumping down on him, I'm sure he would have been more than happy to show you the email your officer sent us telling us we are being overly dramatic, and no one can possibly work roughly fourteen hours a day. Which we don't we clock out after ten and work the rest of the six off the clock for free. You're welcome for that by the way. Also-"

"Harry." Liam hissed.

"What? No fuck this guy I have a whole lot more to say to this fuck head who thinks he can just waltz right in here and-" Liam covered his mouth and quickly shoved him out of his office locking the door once Harry was out, "Pansy!" Harry shouted before he closed and locked his office door around his office to stare at the document upfront of him. Harry slowly calmed down and continued working until he was interrupted yet again, but this time by three sharp knocks at his door.

"Go away." Harry said.

"Can I at least apologize?"

"There you just did now go away." Harry groaned when he heard his lock turn and he glared at Liam who held up the spare key Harry gave him out of trust, "you're a traitor."

"Sue me." Liam said pocketing the key as Louis Tomlinson walked into his office.

"May I explain myself?" Louis asked.

"That depends is this going to be where you make up an excuse of stress then I, for whatever reason, forgives you despite you not learning from it and doing it again later on? Because if so, then no you may not." Harry spoke as he continued to type too focused on getting this document finished before his train of thought left him.

"He watches too many Hallmark movies around the holidays, and I sort of messed up his tea this morning. He's pissy."

"And not sorry by the way so if you're expecting me to apologize after you I won't. I shouldn't have snapped nor cursed at you, but I don't regret it. Oh, and this isn't me trying to be rude this is me trying to get these words on screen before my train of thought leaves me for a different task." Harry explained.

"Good luck." Liam said before he was hurrying out of his office.

"What is it that you want then?" Harry asked.

"I apologize I didn't realize my Networking Officer wasn't completely honest with me when she told me of the only email she had received which was yesterday morning."

"Thank you."

"So...we're good?"

"Yeah, we're fine."

"It doesn't feel like we're fine." Harry looked away from his screen towards Louis who admittedly not two hours ago he thought was extremely hot.

"I do not apologize for what I said however I do apologize for the way it came out. I should have spoken to you more calmly and more rationally. We're fine now I do have to finish this template before we all meet up together and discuss what's going to happen next. So, give me like...thirty minutes?"

"Thank you, but you didn't need to do that."

"I'm a grown mature man I know when I'm wrong- well in this case half wrong."

"We'll have a meeting in an hour." Harry nodded in acknowledgement then looked at him when he didn't leave right away.

"Yes?"

"Nothing just... Why haven't we met before?"

"Because I live in Manchester, and you live in London?"

"Yes, but I have visited this office quite a few times."

"I lock my office door or I'm busy on the phone. Besides during the annual gala, we all sort of stick to our own coworkers and don't mingle. I especially tend to stick with Liam and Niall who stick close to the back, so we're not spotted sneaking sips of a flask."

"Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Harry." Louis said giving him an appreciative once over that, unfortunately, made heat rise in his cheeks as Harry focused on the screen upfront of him.

"Yeah...you too." Louis smiled at him before he turned and walked out of the office, Harry quickly stood up and locked his office door again shaking his head. Absolutely fucking not.

[cheeriecherry]

Birds Of A Feather [2/7]

Hawks x Fem!Reader

Warnings: like, one swear

Part 2/7

It’s been a week since you started your new position at Hawks’ hero agency. It’s a nice workplace, very accommodating for the staff, and the sidekicks and interns you work with are friendly and sociable. But there’s still a little piece of you that’s bitter.

You appreciated the job, especially when you discovered what your monthly paycheck would be, but the whole place was just so damn...busy. If you’d known that you’d maintain your hectic lifestyle after moving to Japan, you never would’ve come in the first place.

On top of that, despite your presence being requested by the man himself, you’d yet to actually meet your new boss. Not a conversation, a text, a simple hello, or even a red feather. At this point, you were wondering if the guy even existed.

You decide to mull it over some more on your afternoon lunch hour. You find your usual seat in the staff lounge, and pull out a container of chicken curry.

“Hey Y/N! Hawks says he wants to see you in his office!”

You pause with a forkful of food halfway to your mouth, glancing over at the young sidekick who’d just bounced in. “Can it wait until after lunch?” you ask, hoping to at least finish your meal before dealing with whatever you were wanted for.

The sidekick looks sympathetic. “Sorry,” she says, “but I don’t think so. He asked me to tell you to bring your food…”

You sigh deeply, but thank her for passing the information on. Don’t shoot the messenger, and all that. You begrudgingly pack your things back up and bid farewell to the few people in the room, all of which are ominously quiet.

That didn’t bode well.

----

A few minutes later finds you outside Hawks’ office, balancing your lunch container in one hand while you knock on his doorframe with the other.

His door is wide open, and you can see him sitting at his desk, facing the window and the view of the city. He probably knew you were there before you knocked, but there was no harm in being polite… though he might appreciate the humour of you walking in like you owned the place.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?”

He spins around in his chair, a charming smile gracing his features. You wonder idly if he’d planned that little spiel, and if so, how long he’d been sitting like that for.

“That I did, chickadee! Pull up a chair, make yourself comfortable, eat with me.”

You do as you’re asked.

“Sorry for not seeing to you sooner. It’s been such a busy week, villains and disasters all over the place. I swear, I’ve been to every end of the country.”

You sit tidily on the chair, legs crossed and wings tucked up neatly behind you.

“I understand,” you tell him, “you’re number two, after all. You’re in high demand.”

Hawks smiles wider, but you get the feeling it’s lacking some genuity. You don’t call him out on it, though.

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, slouching back a little. “I looked into you a bit before I hired you, y’know? Gotta make sure you had a good track record, blah blah, PR crap, blah, anyways. The reports said you were a pretty easygoing person. I’m glad they were right!”

You pray he doesn’t notice the slight ruffle of your feathers. Easygoing? Is that what people thought of you? You supposed there were worse things to be known for, but you? Easygoing? Maybe you’d become an actress if the whole hero gig didn’t work out for you, if you’d fooled that many people.

Easygoing. Yeah right. Burnt out, exhausted, apathetic, those were all accurate descriptors. But fucking easygoing?! Hah.

“Hey, you alright, kid?”

You’re about to ask him what he means, to tell him you’re fine and completely unbothered, but your stomach has other plans. Right when you open your mouth to speak, a loud growl interrupts you, aggressively sounding in the quiet of the room.

His grin softens a bit, a touch more kindness apparent on his face. He’s concerned.

“I didn’t mean to take your lunch hour away,” he apologizes, “I had actually wanted to catch you earlier today, but you were on patrol. I figured it wouldn’t be very cool of me to approach you and get swarmed by fans. Not productive for conversation, that.”

You shrug. “I haven’t taken it personally.” In fact, you hadn’t taken it at all. He could have never spoken to you ever, and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. You were here to do your job, and anything else was an unguaranteed bonus.

“Anyways,” he pulls out a paper bucket of what looks like KFC, and pops the lid off, “eat up. Don’t need my favourite employee dropping out of the sky from exhaustion.”

He digs into his own food, and you take yours out.

“If exhaustion could do me in, I would have fallen out of the sky a long time ago,” you mumble, immediately afterwards spooning food into your face.

Hawks bites off a small piece of chicken. “Whadya mean?” And you curse yourself for forgetting he’s sensitive to sound.

You chew your food pensively, making sure to swallow before you speak (unlike him…). “It’s like. Okay. Wing quirks are pretty rare where I’m from, yeah? In my old job, I was the only airborne hero for five hundred kilometers. I got called all over the place, back and forth, never in one place for very long, almost never at home in my own bed. I was sort of...uh…”

“Spread thing?” he supplies.

You nod. “Spread thin. It wasn’t healthy for me. Anywhere that makes you grow to hate your own quirk can’t possibly be good for you.”

“Now hold up, chickadee,” he interrupts, leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on the desk. His eyes are wide and surprised, like he’s unable to fathom your words. “How could you possibly hate your own quirk?”

You think for a moment. “Hate is maybe a strong word,” you admit, “but there’s definitely some contempt there. Flying used to be my favourite passtime, y’know? The views, the wind, the sun, the silence. And then one day I woke up and thought ‘god, I hope they don’t make me fly today’.”

Hawks picks a little at his lunch, but is far to engrossed in your tale to pay much attention to it.

“Yikes,” he says.

“Yeah.”

You’re both quiet for a moment before you start speaking again.

“Two weeks after that happened, I moved here. Figured a change might be nice, good for my head, or whatever.”

“And how’s that working out?”

“I still hate flying.”

The conversation ebbs and flows after that, with Hawks not supplying much personal insight on the matter, despite you just spilling your guts to him. You don’t mind, though, and he doesn’t strike you as the kind of person to open up very easily. You probably would have been more disgruntled if he’d offered you some kind of similar story.

The two of you talk a little about work, what your old agency was like, where you went to school, and the questions centered around your life, and none prying into his. You make note of that, and file it away for later.

By the end of the hour, you’re sufficiently full of chicken curry, and your boss looks like he’s fairing the same (you’re not sure how he managed to pack away an entire bucket for fried chicken by himself).

“Thanks for lunch, Boss,” you tell him with a smile, an unspoken ‘it was kind of weird’ in your tone. If he picks up on it, he doesn’t say anything.

He does, however, stop you at the door, tugging you back into the room by your collar with a single red feather.

“Say, chickadee,” his voice is coy, “how’s about we make the afternoon more fun?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Come patrolling with me,” he clarifies.

“Why?”

“Flying’s more fun when you’re not alone!” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You doubt him, thinking back to all the times you’d ever flown with someone else (re: none). You relent, deciding to entertain his plan.

“Fine. But don’t fall behind, okay? I take my patrols seriously.”

The strange smile returns to his face.

----

After packing up your dishes and throwing away your trash, you follow Hawks to the stairwell. He said it was best to take off from the roof, if you didn’t want to get bombarded by fans.

“Ah, but I’m sure your fans would love to see you!” you tease, marching carefully up the steps. “It wouldn’t take too long, surely?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, pausing so suddenly that you almost get a faceful of his feathers.

“Well sure, if they were just my fans. Most people have seen me before, though, flying around, fighting crime. But you? You’re new. Your fans in Japan haven’t gotten to meet you yet.”

You tilt your head. “I...don’t have fans, boss.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He swivels around on the step, wings brushing quietly against the cramped cement walls. His expression is one of exasperation, and a hint of disbelief. Once he sees your genuine confusion, however, he sighs. “You really have no idea, do you?”

You shake your head. “I’ve only been here like two weeks. How could I have any significant following?”

He looks at you with a fondness reserved for naive children, or puppies. It’s a little patronizing, in your opinion.

“International heroes are pretty big here, you know?” he explains, “and you, little chickadee, were voted number four on the overseas popularity poll this year. Your fanbase here is rivaled only by a handful of heroes, most of which are in Japan’s top ten.”

You’re shocked, to say the least, and Hawks takes your silence as cue to continue walking.

You dodge his wings again, and resume following him.

“How could I be popular and not know it?” you ask. “Surely someone would have approached me by now-”

“Chickadee, when was the last time you were on the ground-”

“This morning-”

“-in the daytime?”

“Oh.”

You think back a little. You’ve patrolled in the skies since you started working at the agency, and your shifts started before sunrise. Plus, you usually flew home, well after sunset. It was just easier than trying to fit into a car and deal with traffic.

“I guess...not since the day I arrived.”

“Exactly! No one knew you were here, then. But now?” He pushes hard against the heavy metal door to the roof, taking a deep breath when it opens and a breeze blows through. “Now, all of Japan knows we work together!”

You saunter out into the sunlight, basking for a few seconds in the warmth. But the thought of your fans quickly overtakes your mind again, and the relaxation is lost.

“Are you sure it’s not fame by affiliation,” you wonder, “because seriously, I didn’t have fans back home. I’ve never been stopped for an autograph, or asked for a photo. I’m cool with that. I just don’t want people to like me because I’m near you sometimes.”

Hawks steps up on the lip of the roof, wings spread wide and overlooking the city.

He stays like that for a few seconds, and you note the deep tiredness in his posture, behind his eyes. You’ve seen it in your mirror too many times.

He’s just as exhausted as you are.

“Thus is the way of the world,” he mumbles, and you’re not sure you’re meant to hear it.

But then he perks up, as quickly as a light switch. He turns on his heel to face you, mischief and playfulness glinting in his smile. “I’ll race you to the bank tower? If I win, you gotta go on patrol with me tomorrow, too.”

You shrug, and take off into the sky. It’s not much of a fight, though. He has agility and familiarity on his side, and he’s waiting for you by the time you finally arrive at your destination.

You don’t mind.

[twomoonstwosuns]

the beard and the boyfriend.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), age gap (reader over 18), everything consensual

word count: 4.0k

a/n: tbh i needed an excuse to dedicate a chapter to oscar isaac’s beard. this literally exists to satiate my thirst for the beard, so if you feel the same way, this one’s for you!

finn and rey on deck. we’ll start moving things along again. just had to get this out of my system. special thanks to “clean shaven, five days ago” from this video for the beard love.  

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

You weren’t entirely sure how things got to this point.

Poe had wrapped up class earlier than usual and, after emailing the entire class the details of their next big assignment, brought up some Youtube video that someone had mentioned in an offhanded comment earlier. Students lingered to talk with him, some left already, and some were hanging out just having conversations.

A loud kid who sat in the front, you were pretty sure his name was DJ, started asking about the assignment Poe had iterated twice that D’Acy wanted them to do. You rolled your eyes and started to leave, not interested in sticking around to listen to him complain. He was a cocky loudmouth who liked to party and sweet talk his way into others doing his homework instead of doing the work himself.

“Is there anyway we can convince you to not make us do it?” DJ asked. You stole a glance at Kaydel, both of you admiring the nerve this guy had. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it and certainly wouldn’t be the last. You could tell Poe was getting a little annoyed too.

“Probably not.” Poe said with a tone of finality.

“What about a bet?” DJ persisted. “You win, we’ll do the assignment. I win, we don’t and everyone gets 100%.”

That caught everyone’s attention, even Poe’s. You and Kaydel stopped by the door. The room was silent as they looked between Poe and DJ. Poe leaned back in his chair, tapping the butt of his pen against the desk.

“Well, it depends.” He finally said. Everyone desperately hung onto his every word. “What did you have in mind?”

DJ contemplated, his hand on his chin. No one thought Poe would take him up on his offer, so he was quickly trying to come up with something.

“Beard-off.”

“Beard-off?”

“Whoever can grow the best one wins.”

Poe tapped his fingers against his knee. The offer was tempting, mostly because Poe knew he could win.

“You’ve got me interested,” Poe said. “You’re on.”

The class erupted in quiet chatter, mostly in excitement about this bet. DJ suddenly looked towards the back of the room.

“Snap man, you can grow a mean beard. You want in?”

Snap nodded as Poe brought the attention of the class back to him.

“Wait, how many people are going to be in on this? It has to be fair.”

“Just me and Snap, promise.” DJ said. “No more.”

You could practically see the gears turning in Poe’s head. He never was one to back down from a challenge, and even though he was now outnumbered he really didn’t want to give DJ the satisfaction. He bit his lip in consideration. He looked around the room, gauging the reactions. When he locked eyes with yours, you gave him a raise of your eyebrows.

“Alright, here are the rules.” Poe finally said, looking back at DJ. “We start tomorrow, clean shaven. We’ll see who can grow the best beard by class on Tuesday. Six days. No shaving, no grooming, no products or at home remedies to try and make it thicker faster. DJ wins, I’ll waive the assignment and give everyone 100%. Snap wins, I’ll waive the next test and give everyone 100%. I win, everyone does both the assignment and the test plus something extra.”

The room held it’s breath as DJ considered the terms. He looked across the room at Snap, who shrugged and nodded.

“You’re on, Dameron.” DJ said, approaching the desk to shake Poe’s hand.

“Class votes on Tuesday.” Poe said. “And I know you guys don’t want the assignment or the test, but please try to be fair. It’s not going to be any fun knowing I kicked their butts if you’re going to vote for them anyway.”

The guys in the classroom hollered at the challenge. A proud smirk grew on your face.

This was going to be fun.

》 》 》

The week went by fast.

You saw Poe Thursday evening, his stubble already darkening. You had plans to visit Tallie that weekend and he refused to send you pictures of the progression of his beard, citing that you should be impartial in judging in class. You told him you’d vote for him regardless, to which he chuckled and said he’d want you to be surprised.

Poe wasn’t in class when you got there, which was odd to you considering he was always about ten minutes early. DJ and Snap were both early, talking to their admirers who were already buzzing with excitement.

“So, what do you think?” DJ yelled across the room as you walked to your seat.

“I think I never want to see either of you without facial hair ever again.”

For as long as you’d known Snap, you’d never seen him without his beard. To say you were disturbed by a smooth baby-faced Snap was an understatement. And DJ, well, you never paid much attention to him to care, but it was still a weird sight to see. You’d seen them both with thicker beards, but the beards they had after a week were coming in pretty nicely, though they were short so you could still see the skin of their face underneath.

“Oh, come on!”

You glanced over at DJ, who had thrown his hands up in the air in frustration. You followed his line of sight and your jaw dropped.

Poe was barely recognizable. His beard was dark and thick, tremendously superior to DJ and Snap’s. It filled his face nicely and just looked natural. They gawked at him and you could see a smug grin on his face. You propped your elbow up on your desk and rested your chin in your palm, shaking your head in disbelief and openly gawking at him like everyone else in the room. Poe set his stuff down and glanced at you before looking at his two competitors. You made it very obvious to him that you were checking him out.

“That’s not fair.” DJ said. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“Look at that thing! That’s after a week?” Snap asked incredulously. Poe grinned smugly and Snap shook his head in disbelief and put his hands up in defeat as he walked to his seat. “Damn. That’s beautiful, man.”

“You had to have used something to make it grow fast.” DJ accused. There would be no vote. He knew he lost. Hell, everyone knew he lost.

“Nope,” Poe said, propping up on his desk and crossing his arms. “I didn’t do anything to it except let it grow.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

Some students voiced their complaints about what he said, telling him to give it up and accept defeat. It was just a stupid bet, after all, even if DJ’s pride was wounded.

“Call my girlfriend,” Poe said simply with a shrug, knowing DJ would never actually do anything to make a case against him. Your head snapped in his direction. “She can vouch for me.”

You bit the end of your pen to stop the big grin that was starting to form on your face. You could practically hear the groans of disappointment of the girls around you. As his eyes swept over where you sat, you gave him a soft smile.

“Good effort, guys. I’ll let you know when I’ve figured out the extra thing you’re going to do for me.”

It was the longest hour and a half of your life. You could barely concentrate with Poe looking the way he did. You couldn’t concentrate in the class you had after his either. You were getting too excited to see Poe. You forced yourself to write down whatever was on the slides even though the words didn’t translate into learned knowledge. You had just left the building when the music you had just turned on for your walk home was interrupted by your ringtone, Poe’s name flashing across the screen.

“I thought you had student meetings all afternoon?”

“I’ve got about twenty minutes before my next one.”

You checked the time on your phone. You weren’t too far away from Poe’s office, so you decided to make your way over there.

“What’re you doing?”

“Heading home to get started on a paper so I can go see my boyfriend tonight.”

Poe smiled even though you couldn’t see him. It had been a slip of the tongue and he almost dreaded seeing your reaction in case it was too fast. You’d only been dating a week and hadn’t even had a second date yet. But the smile he saw on your face sent a wave of relief through his body.

“You have a minute to stop by? I want to see you.”

“Aw, did you miss me this weekend?”

“I might’ve.”

“I might’ve missed you, too.”

‘Might’ve’ was a lie. You definitely did. The honeymoon phase was going strong and you found yourself wanting to spend as much time with him as possible, especially since the relationship with your roommates was still strained. But you made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t be that girl who dropped everything and everyone for a boyfriend.

“Have you talked to your roommates?”

“If you count mumbling ‘hey’, ‘please’, and ‘thank you’ as riveting conversation, then yes. I don’t even know if they’re mad at me.”

“Are you still mad at them?”

“I don’t know. It was never their reaction that bothered me. It was the fact that they think I’d whore around for a good grade and that I’m not smart enough to think of the consequences if people were to find out.”

“I could talk to them, if you want.”

You knew Poe was joking, but you also knew he’d probably do it if you asked. “I can’t imagine that going over well, but thank you for the offer.”

“You know you’re welcome to stay with me and Beebs if it gets too much.”

“I know. And I so appreciate that.” You said fondly, careful to climb the stairs up to his floor without him hearing your voice echo. “So the beard…”

“Yeah? What do you think?”

“I like it, you look really good with it. The only thing is that hides the dimple you get when you smile that I’ve grown so fond of. But once again, you’ve proven you can pull something off that only a handful of men can. You’re perfect and it’s so annoying.”

Poe’s loud laughter could be heard from down the hall.

“You kind of look like a hipster with it. All you need is a beanie or a fedora,” you teased. “Oh, and some skinny jeans and Ray Bans. You walk down the street with those plus your guitar and people could mistake you for a handsome yet douchey indie singer.”

“Make fun all you want,” Poe said, his voice low. “I don’t think you’ll be doing much teasing when you feel it between your thighs later tonight.”

You felt a rush of heat flood your body and settle straight in your core. You glanced around to make sure no one was around.

“Such a shame I have to wait until tonight, unless…”

“Is that a challenge?”

You stood in Poe’s doorway, admiring the leisurely way he sat back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk.

“If you want it to be.”

The look on Poe’s face when he heard your voice in his doorway rather than through the phone made you laugh. You shut the door and locked it, tossing your backpack, coat, and phone onto one of the chairs in front of his desk. You thanked your lucky stars you didn’t have to worry about windows looking out into the hallway, instead there was just one that looked outside three stories up from the ground.

You met him in the middle of his office, pulling him into a hug with your arms around his shoulders. Poe’s arms circled his arms around your waist and he buried his head in your hair, breathing deeply as he swayed you both back and forth.

“Having you in class sucks,” he said against your hair. “You’re right there and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“You’re telling me. It was really hard not just stare at you all throughout class, especially when you came in with this.” You brought a hand up to cradle Poe’s jaw, making him lift his head so he was looking down at you. You tilted his head so you could get a closer look. “This really does look good. I don’t know what I was expecting to see today, but I was notdisappointed. And thank youfor shutting DJ up.”

“Hopefully he’ll think twice about being a pain in the ass for the rest of the semester.”

“Doubtful, but I admire your optimism.”

Poe smiled down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“By the way, I accept your challenge.” Poe suddenly swung you around, leading you back to his desk. You nearly tripped on your feet, the back of his desk hitting your lower back. “Want to see what I can do in ten minutes?”

You nodded eagerly, the ache between your legs becoming uncomfortable. Poe brought you in to meet his lips by the back of your neck. It was teasing, light as a feather. He applied more pressure and traced his tongue along your lip, begging for entrance. You granted him access and he immediately invaded, exploring your mouth like he was searching for treasure. The beard against your face tickled, an unfamiliar but entirely pleasant feeling. You nearly shivered thinking about how it would feel between your legs.

Poe made quick work of pulling your jeans down to your ankles. He dragged two fingers through your folds, swirling your collected arousal around your clit. He knelt on the ground in front of you, nipping the insides of your thighs and soothing the sting with his tongue. The friction of his beard against the soft skin of your thigh was indescribable. It was soft and rough at the same time.

“Poe, you have—fuck—you have seven minutes.”

Poe removed his fingers and lowered his mouth onto your pussy, his tongue flat and licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk, your teeth biting your lip so hard you were sure you’d draw blood. Poe laid an arm across your lap, keeping you in place. He flicked his tongue against your clit, a soft moan coming from your chest. One of your hands found his way into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. He glided his fingers back in, sliding them almost all the way out before adding a third and curling them. A loud groan tore from your throat. Poe stood up and removed his lips, stilling his fingers. You let out a whine of protest.

“You have to keep quiet,” Poe smirked against your lips. “Or I stop. Understand?”

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I understand.”

“Good girl,” Poe muttered, quickly pecking your lips before kneeling down again. The dominating tone of voice practically made you quake with arousal. Poe’s fingers started pumping into you at a quick pace, his tongue returning to your clit matching its pace. His fingers brushed against the sweet spot inside you, your legs trembling as the white-hot burn in your belly flared.  

Poe brushed his fingers by your spot again and, with firm pressure against it, wrapped his lips fully around your clit and sucked. A swore under your breath and a soft cry fell from your lips as you fell over the edge, riding Poe’s fingers as he lapped up every last bit. Your head dropped forward, a breathless giggle leaving you as you got your breathing under control. Poe removed his fingers slowly, sucking them into his mouth obscenely with his eyes on yours and that smug grin back on his face. He grabbed your hand and pulled you upright. Your legs were a little shaky beneath you as you pulled your bottoms back up.

“I am sopaying you back tonight,” you said, buttoning your jeans before wrapping your arms around his waist. “Remind me to never everbet against you.”

“I always win.” Poe smirked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned down to kiss you when a knock on the door interrupted him. You scrambled quietly to make yourself presentable and quickly put your coat on. You sat down in the vacant chair to play the part as Poe opened the door, his whole hand over the lock to make sure he masked the sound of it unlocking.

“I’m finishing up a private conversation with someone, can you hang out for minute or two and I’ll wrap it up?”

You stifled a giggle as the student agreed. Poe shut the door again and you stood up, grabbing your bag. With both hands on your face, he pulled you into a sweet kiss.

“I’ll see you later,” he muttered, placing another quick peck on your lips. You bit your lip. “And don’t do that, it drives me crazy.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, which he kissed away. You opened the door and paused. “Since, I’m here…”

You opened your backpack and took out the book you had borrowed, handing it back to Poe as the student entered his office.

“Thanks again for letting me borrow it. It really helped.”

Poe nodded in acknowledgement before shutting the door behind you. A giddy smile was on your face the entire walk back to your apartment. It was a slow walk, the burn of his beard on your skin rubbing uncomfortably against the denim of your jeans. The first thing you did when you got into your apartment was change into a looser pair of lounge pants, the sting a painful and pleasant memory you’d replay in your head over and over again.

You had a plan: a couple of hours of homework before Poe would text you to let you know he was finally home. You settled into the love seat in your living room with your laptop on your lap and a textbook leaning up against the arm of the chair. You were comfy and, with the relaxing music coming from some random Spotify playlist you found to help you concentrate, also on the verge of sleepiness.

Movement caught the corner of your eye but you paid no mind to it. You had heard rustling when you walked in, so you knew at least one of your roommates was home. You only glanced up when Karé sat on the coffee table in front of you next to your propped up legs. You looked back at your down at your laptop when she spoke.

“Can we talk?”

You saved your work, closed your computer, and marked the page of the book and set them all aside, pausing the music on your phone as well.

“I’m sorry,” Karé said. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

“You had every right to be shocked,” you said quietly. Karé shook her head.

“I’m sorry for making you think you were stupid and that you didn’t know what you were doing.You didn’t deserve that.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I know this isn’t a good enough reason, but I only said what I said because I care about you. Jessika does too. I know she feels really bad.”

“Good. She should.”

“We both meant well. Jessika just doesn’t always have a filter and will say whatever’s on her mind, consequences be damned. We just don’t want you getting into any kind of trouble. Professor Dameron either, I mean he’s a great teacher.”

“I know, but you know me. I know the risks and Poe does too. That’s why we’re being careful,” you explained. “Besides, it’s not like Poe’s going to be hanging out here or spending the night like Snap does. There are a lot of things we can’t do. Which is fine, I’m not complaining, but you guys don’t have to worry about being uncomfortable with him here.”

“I know. I trust your judgment.” Karé said. “I really am sorry.”

You leaned forward and brought your friend into a hug, rubbing her back comfortingly. And that was all she needed to know everything was ok between you two.

“For the record, I don’t think I’d be uncomfortable having him here,” Karé said, pulling out of the hug. “It might be a little weird at first since he’s a teacher and all, but you have just as much a right as either of us to have a boyfriend over. Boyfriend, right? Or are you not labeling it yet?”

“Yeah, boyfriend. Today, actually.”

Karé smiled at the way your eyes lit up.

“You’re clearly happy. I’ve seen it when you talked about him even before your date last week and when you come home after seeing him. We’re your friends and we should support that as long as he treats you right, so you have mine. And I know you have Jessika’s too, she just needs a little more time.”

“Thank you.”

There was a comfortable silence that settled over the two of you.

“Hey,” you said, grabbing Karé’s attention. “I have to finish telling you about my date.”

“There’s more?”

“We went back to his apartment after. He had made dinner earlier, there was wine and candles and dancing…Karé we freakin’ danced, like it was straight out of a romantic comedy.”

“Damn. I’m going to have to tell Snap to step it up.”

You laughed, glad that things were cleared up with at least one of your roommates. Karé had always tried to remain the levelheaded, neutral one, so you were thankful things with her were back to normal.

“Oh! You have to tell me what happened with Ben.”

“There’s honestly not a lot to tell. He just texted me out of the blue. Just ‘hey, how are you?’”

“Did you text him back?”

“Not right away, but yeah. We were friends before we dated. We didn’t end on the best terms but it wasn’t hostile or anything.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

“When we broke up four years ago. He’s been abroad ever since.”

“Are you going to tell Poe about him?”

“If he comes up in conversation or if he asks about Ben, then yeah, I’ll tell him. I don’t have anything to hide. Like I said, Ben and I were friends for a little bit before we dated. My dad and his dad were good friends.”

“What about his mom?”

“I’ve never met her. She wasn’t in the country when we dated.”

Karé gave you a look. “Well, I hope he doesn’t try anything.”

“I’m not worried, but don’t worry I’ll tell you if anything happens.”

“Good. So…do you want to order in food tonight?” Karéasked. “We have a lot of catching up to do from not talking for the last week.”

“I was going to go to Poe’s later tonight, but I can cancel—“

“No, god no, I can’t ask you to do that. How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s perfect.”

Karé patted your leg before she stood. You brought your computer and book back up onto your lap and dove into your work, feeling better and more content about everything.

tag list [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @umchrisevans @galaxy-of-stories 

[bisexualcrowley]

Stole the Show (Pt 1)

Next Chapter

Pairing: Dominic “Sonny” Carisi x Fem! Reader

Chapter summary: In hopes of catching a high profile rapist, Y/n goes undercover in a Broadway production of one of her favorite musicals, helped along by her close friend and love of her life, detective Carisi

Content/warnings: This chapter is more of an introduction to the story, but there’s definitely some fluff with Sonny in here

Word count: 1,895

Y/n Y/l/n was not a coward. She fought through abuse, homelessness, abduction and the day to day stressors of being an SVU detective, each struggle forcing her out the other side stronger than before, using music as a crutch, so it was no surprise to Sonny Carisi that she fought for the chance to go undercover performing on broadway, in a sequel to her favorite musical no less. 

The case was nothing too out of the ordinary for the squad, simply a rapist drugging performers and assaulting them backstage, but the suspect being somewhat high profile made it so being caught in the act by a cop would be the best way to ensure conviction, a fact that Y/n was quick to convince the squad of. She sat quietly that morning, mentally going over her proposition and knee bouncing as the soundtrack to Mamma Mia 2 played softly through an earbud tucked discreetly behind her hair.

"Hey Liv, you said that one of the girls who was attacked quit the production, right?” Y/n called to the Sergeant as she walked in the door, turning in her desk chair to face her superior. 

"Good Morning to you too, Y/n, but yes she did quit, I don’t blame her in the slightest but i admit it's pretty unfortunate for the crew, the play opens in a week and she was a main character" Liv smiled politely at the detective as she spoke, a little shocked by the eagerness to jump straight into work on a saturday morning but questioning it, instead choosing to hang her coat on the rack outside her office and pick up the case file in question.

Y/n took a breath, hesitating slightly before offering up her idea.

"Well, what if I took her place? I've done a fair share of undercover work, and I used to do musical theatre when I was in school. Plus, it's the role of Donna that they lost, right? I can make myself look kinda like her, at least enough that they’d take me on to help with the case" Y/n looked nervously at her hands, fearing the probable rejection, but before Liv could reply Sonny cut in, walking over to Y/n's desk and plopping himself down on the corner.

"Ya know Sarge, that's not a half bad idea, we could get up close and personal with the cast, and it’ll be way easier to keep the girls safe and get some physical evidence against the guy. Plus, I've heard talk that Y/l/n's a damn talented singer."

Y/n grinned up at Sonny, thanking her friend for the compliment while silently praying that she'd at the very least get the chance to talk to the director about it.

"Well if you're sure you're up for it, I could definitely make a couple calls. I’ll warn you not to get your hopes up, seeing as this is a broadway production and they might have an understudy already, but I absolutely agree we should have someone undercover with the girls.”

Olivia replied, turning to her office to go make the call. 

15 minutes passed, leaving Y/n waiting in anxious silence for the verdict and a supportive Amanda and Sonny hovering by her desk. It had been almost half an hour when Liv emerged from the office, and Y/n stood up with hopeful eyes turned to the Sergeant, who's face broke into a smile. 

"Good news Y/l/n, it turns out you earned yourself quite a reputation within the musical theatre community, and she says if you can be ready for opening night next week without letting the fact that you’re a cop slip, you’re in!"

Y/n beamed at Olivia, thank you's spilling from her lips as Amanda cheered and Sonny clapped her on the back. 

This is gonna be so good for her, he thought to himself with a smile, transfixed by his friend’s joyful smile.

“We should head down to the theatre as soon as possible to work out the details with her, if i’m gonna be wearing a wire, what happens if and when we catch him, that type of stuff” Y/n said, a quickly adopted professional appearance masking her excitement. The performance isn’t the focus here y/n, this is only happening because the women in the musical are in danger and this is the best way to keep them safe. She thought to herself while sliding out of her chair and grabbing her phone, following Sonny, who had oh so graciously offered to accompany her to the theatre, towards the front of the building. Of course, my performance is important too, can’t risk messing up and blowing my cover in rehearsal or, god forbid, screwing up in the middle of the performance. Jeez, the NYPD would never be trusted to work alongside a Broadway show again.

Y/n shook the final thought from her mind and shot her friend a smile as they climbed into a squad car, driving the short distance from the precinct to what somewhat coincidentally, was named Broadway Theatre. Parking in an open spot along the curb, Sonny climbed out of the car and upon rounding the car and stepping up onto the sidewalk was met with a starry eyed Y/n, who was staring up at the bright blue sign advertising Mamma Mia: Here we go again, opening in 7 days, starring Y/n Y/l/n.

Sonny stared up at the sign in both shock and pride, firstly feeling more than impressed at how fast the crew had managed to get his partner’s name into the adverts, and secondly thrilled at the look of awe plastered across her face, the lights surrounding the poster reflecting beautifully in her eyes.

“Congrats kid, looks like you made it! Don’t forget about all us little people once you’ve become one of those big broadway actresses” 

He clapped her on the shoulder as he spoke, Y/n giggling at the detective’s joke, but couldn’t drown out the little voice at the back of her head wishing that his words would come true.

Turning her attention back to the entrance, Y/n shot a playful “shut up” towards Sonny and made her way to the doors, leaving her grinning friend jogging to catch the door before it shut in his face.

The hours flew by as Y/n was walked through everything that would be happening over the next few weeks.  First she and Sonny were introduced to the director, the three of them working out the best course of action pertaining to the suspected rapist, the group deciding after a lengthy debate that if they didn’t make an arrest before opening night, Y/n would come up with a discreet signal between herself and the SVU detectives who would be in the audience and backstage that would let them know who to arrest and when during the performance. 

Next, Sonny was left behind in an office while Y/n was brought to the main stage and rehearsal area, where she was introduced to the rest of the cast who welcomed her with open arms, immediately jumping in to run lines and teach y/n the choreography for the musical. By the time everyone called it quits for the day, the sun had begun to set and Y/n was absolutely beat, her cheerful mood quickly beginning to sour now that she had stopped singing. 

Tucking her script into her bag, Y/n took heavy steps up to the exit, groaning as she realized she’d have to take the subway back to her apartment. The thought of having to sit on a loud, crowded train while this exhausted drew a sigh to her lips, trudging outside and fixing her hair before turning towards the nearest station, expecting to find a quieting street but being pleasantly surprised by the sight of her partner and best friend leaning up against a streetlamp and holding a paper bag from her favorite bakery, bringing a relieved smile to her face.

“Sonny Carisi you are a sight for sore eyes. What are you even doing here, it’s been hours!” Y/n called as she approached the man, who righted himself and wandered towards her with a smile on his face at the sound.  

“Couldn’t just leave ya here after a long day doll, I'm here bearin’ snacks and a ride home” Sonny chuckled as she smiled gratefully and threw her arms around his shoulders in a quick hug, pulling away to take the bag from his hand.

“It’s cannoli, not as good as my mom’s but i hope it’ll do for tonight. Now c’mon, let’s get you home” 

Y/n beamed and thanked her friend, who smiled back and gestured a little further down the street to where what y/n assumed was Sonny’s car was parked and she followed him to it, thanking him again but this time throwing in a sleepy mumble of “shotgun” before sliding into the passenger seat, which caused Sonny to let out a snort of laughter as he joined her in the car.

It wasn’t long before the rumble of the engine lulled Y/n into a deep sleep, head rolling to the side to rest against the car’s window. Sonny smiled softly at her sleeping form, careful to avoid the potholes in the road.  It took him nearly ten minutes driving towards his own home to realize that despite their years of friendship, Sonny had never actually been to Y/n’s apartment, and couldn’t remember her ever mentioning an address

Stopping at a red light, the detective reached over to the right side of the car, gently nudging y/n’s sleeping form. She didn’t awaken right away, needing a few more nudges from Carisi’s side of the car, but eventually sleepy eyes fluttered open, staring groggily at her friend.

“Sorry doll, but i don’t know where you live, you gotta gimme your address” Sonny whispered, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen in front of y/n’s face away.

“too tired, dunno.. can’t r’member” She mumbled, head falling back against the window as the light turned green and Sonny drove forward. The car was silent again, Y/n too exhausted to speak and Sonny debating what he should do.

“...D’ya just wanna crash at my place tonight?” He was hesitant to ask, worried that Y/n would think he was taking advantage of her, but to his relief she gave a slow nod, a smile creeping across her face before passing out again.

Sonny smiled too, and the rest of the drive was quiet, him pulling into a back parking lot a few minutes later and unclipping his seatbelt. A look over at Y/n, fast asleep and softly snoring in the passenger seat brought a smile to his face, and quietly he got out of the car and moved around to her side, carefully scooping his friend into his arms bridal style and locking the car.

The smile didn’t leave Sonny’s face the whole trip across the lost, up the elevator, and into his apartment, where he gently laid Y/n’s sleeping form across his couch and draped a warm blanket over her. She looked peaceful as she slept, the layers of stress usually hardening her face having vanished, and it warmed Sonny’s heart. Pulling another blanket over her, Sonny crouched down to press a soft kiss to Y/n’s forehead, and with a whisper of “sweet dreams, doll”, he clicked off the light and left her to sleep.

[hughiecampbelle]

I know I'm not the only person struggling with their mental health right now, and I know I'm absolutely no expert or anything, but I thought I would offer what I could. I don't normally write these things, but if I can be helpful to one person, then why not? These aren't life changing things that'll magically make all these overwhelming feelings or thoughts go away, but they can help short term, and sometimes that's all we can ask for/manage :) These might not all be unique or something you can do rn, but it's been helping me:

Get out of bed. Personally, I don't have a lot of places to go or sit, especially in quarantine, so I sit on my floor :) Where I live it's been too hot to sit outside, but that's also a really good place! I always end up feeling really bad and guilty when I can't get out of bed or end up staying there all day, so when I go somewhere else to do whatever (read, write, etc.) it makes me feel more productive. It makes me feel more accomplished.

Wash the one blanket you've been wrapped in. Or throw it in the dryer. Even just switching it out for another one can make you feel better because it's clean, and soft, and warm and now it's not associated with all bad days you spent wrapped in it. It's not a reminder anymore because it's been washed or switched out. It's a small fresh start, but it makes a big difference. Plus, all blankets need the same amount of love :)

Read a book. Or a chapter, or even a few pages. Lately that's all I've been able to manage and that's okay! A new book, something you've read a dozen times. You don't even have to start at the beginning. Go to that one chapter you love or that one scene or find those quotes you love. I haven't been able to read a lot lately, but when I have, it's made me feel a lot less lonely. It reminds me why I love it still and it gives me hope I'll be able to read like I used to. For now, a few pages is a big step :)

Clean. But I don't mean reorganize everything and end up with a mess that's too big and too overwhelming to handle right now. I mean getting a wipe and wiping down a dresser or chest or desk. I mean washing a dirty mirror. I mean restacking the book pile in a new way. It doesn't have too be too intense or ask too much of you because when you're feeling like this, everything feels like a chore. Even just vacuuming to feel the warm carpet is enough. Not everything needs a place to go right now and not everything has to be picked up. Just one small area is enough.

Change your wallpapers/backgrounds. This might be dumb, but it made me happy. I changed my computer backgrounds and now they're artsy and cute and every time I open it it makes me feel good. I switch up new pictures of my dogs on my phone wallpapers, too! It's easy, it's mindless, it's not a huge change or a big commitment, but it's something you can control, something you have that can make you feel better. Sometimes, it's little things that make a big difference and we just don't know it.

Watch comforting videos on your phone, ones you've taken. This might be a dumb one, too, but it helps. There's a reason you filmed it, sometimes you forget why. I have dumb videos of my dogs rolling around, and concerts where I'm the one screaming over the songs, and ones of my Nana laughing cuse she doesn't know it's taking a video and not a picture. Sometimes rewarding them can make you feel like you did when you took them. They can be a reminder of when you were happy and excited even when you forget those feelings.

Dye your hair. Permanently, semi-permanently, with that chalk stuff, whatever. Personally, I love change, I need it, but I can't get tattoos or piercings in quarantine and it's driving me bonkers. This is something I can change! It's also something I neglect. I don't brush my hair, I don't give it much thought, doing anything I can to get it out of my face. But, when it's a new color, I'm more thoughtful of taking care of it. I want the color to last and I care about it more when I like the new color. Even just one or a few strands of hair can be enough! It doesn't have to be huge!

Candles!!! Light one, smell one, spray febreeze, whatever! I cannot tell you how many candles I've burned through since quarantine started. The scent fills the room and makes it feel so much more welcoming and comforting. I feel better knowing all the things in my room are gonna smell like that candle. The ones I don't wanna burn yet just sit with the cap off. It makes me feel better knowing my room/are smells good :)

Art! Painting, drawing, writing, etc. It doesn't even have to be in an artistic way, it can be a chore. I had to paint the railing to my front steps because it was rusty and let me tell you, it was the most stress free afternoon I'd had in a long time. It was mindless and simple and I knew I was doing something, accomplishing something, that didn't need a lot of concentration. There are no expectations to create the next museum worthy masterpiece. Simply have fun with it, even if it ends up looking like a littke kid did it. All art is good art, and a healthy distraction.

Games :) I don't really play video games, but I've seen it be really good for my brothers who are dealing with their own issues right now to put their focus into something with an end goal and objectives. I like the app Two Dots which I actually found out about on here! I don't normally like these kinds of games, but I ended up loving this one. It's something to focus on and make you think, trying to figure out the best strategies, it's a distraction that makes you put all your focus in on one thing. Without school work and grades, that's been really hard for me to find.

Even if you can't do any of that right now, I want you to know one thing:

Please don't feel like you're wasting your time because you're trying to get through the day. I know a lot of people don't have school anymore or have lost/can't get jobs right now with everything going on, which means there's a lot of free time now and you're not really sure what to do with it. Let me tell you, you don't always have to be doing something huge and productive. You don't have to be "glowing up". You don't have to be losing weight or working out. You don't have to be reading or studying. You don't have to do anything. Time feels like it's dragging on and that's a lot. It can be overbearing. Some days are filler days, where maybe all you did was laundry or all you did was make your bed and that's okay!!! Even just sitting on the floor and remembering to eat is all we can manage. Quarantine and all this isn't about how you'll end up coming out of this, but if you do at all. I know my mental health has been so rocky and frankly, really scary, and i can only assume a lot of people have been feeling this way, too. If getting to end of it means a day full of movies or taking a day to binge an old favorite show, then that is enough.

Please feel free to add more if you have any, I know I'm in need of any ideas or things I could do to help right now. I hope you're staying safe my loves, staying healthy. Please be a lil nicer to yourselves, more understanding, more kind, and more aware when things start to change. There's nothing wrong with putting your mental health first. I love you all more than I could ever put into words!!! Xoxoxo💜💖💜

[wannawritefast]

Whiplash (Prologue)

A/N: Hey, guys! Long time no see! This is a fluffy little, slow burn, friends-to-lovers, fake dating Christmas fic I’ve been working on. Basically if it gets enough attention I’ll write and post the rest.

Fandom: Bo Rhap

Pairing: Gwylim! Brian x Reader

You threw your pencil at your friend and he dodged it while falling to the floor in a fit of laughter, curls bobbing as he went down.

“It’s a fortnight before final exams, Bri!” You were torn between whether you yourself were going to laugh or cry. Your emotions hadn’t decided yet. “And I’ve hardly made any progress on my thesis!” Brian howled in laughter as he continued rolling in the doorway of your dorm. You crossed your arms over your chest and pursed your lips. “Forgive me if I forgot that two plus one is three.”

Brian got his bearings. “I was going to ask you how you were doing but I think that was answer enough.” He stood to his feet and dusted himself off before offering his hand to you. “Come on.”

“What?” You glanced between his outstretched palm and amused face.

“We’re leaving, come on.” Brian walked over and grabbed your hand. He began to pull you out of your chair.

You locked your legs, slamming the brakes on what was happening. “What do you mean ‘we’re leaving’?”

“I mean ‘we’re leaving and I’m taking you off campus to get food because I’m willing to bet that you can’t tell me the last time you ate a proper meal or at least left this cave of a room.”

You gaped, speechless. You honestly couldn't recall. Brian started pulling you along again. “Brian, Brian. Wait!”

He halted again. “What?”

“I can’t leave right now! I have too much to do.” Leaving right now was not a logical use of your time. You had better things to do, like studying, rather than going out for dinner. “I have so many notes to go over and I haven’t finished grading my section’s tests for Professor-”

“I’ll help you grade the tests,” he answered calmly. “Remember, I TA for the sections that you don’t. I’ve finished mine. I can help you with yours.” Brian pulled you away from your desk for a third time.

“I shouldn’t leave. I… I’ll eat when I finish this set of notes.” Your hands still interlocked, you began pulling him back to your desk.

“You’ll feel better after you eat.” Brian walked you toward the door once more. “You won’t be productive if you don’t take a break. You’ll fry your brains.”

You took a deep breath. He was right, you supposed. You relaxed your strained stance and rolled back your shoulders exhaustedly. “Let me grab my shoes.”

[{...}]

Brian took you to a small diner a few miles off campus where you were subsequently seated at a small booth. You looked a mess, of that you were quite certain. But neither you, Brian, nor the wait staff cared.

The moment your plate with a burger, chips, and a pickle slice was placed in front of you, your hunger hit you at full force. For a few minutes, both you and Brian yammed in contented silence.

“Brian,” you spoke through a mouthful of chips. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he replied.

As if on cue, the server set down two milkshakes in front of the both of you. You dropped the chip from your fingers and looked at Brian. You felt yourself tear up.

“Are you alright?” He asked with concern as you stared down the glass of cold deliciousness.

“Are you for real, Brian,” you asked, meeting his hazel eyes with your own. You were genuinely touched by the gesture. “My god,” you laughed, “I mean, will you marry me?”

Brian rubbed the back of his neck with a cheeky smile and sighed. “I don’t know. I have a long line of suitors.”

“You took me to get food,” you bargained playfully. “I must be pretty bloody high up, ranking-wise.” You pulled the milkshake toward you and took a drink of the delectable dessert.

“At the very top.”

The two of you ate the rest of your dinner talking and joking about the effects of maths on the human psyche. Immediately after dinner, you and Brian walked around the city. A chance to stretch your legs a bit before returning to your work, he had said.

The city at night with the faintest lights of the stars right behind the skyline was a sight to behold. The people around you bustled and cars honked blissfully ignoring the universe just outside of their own little worlds.

“Our universe is strange, isn’t it,” you said out of the blue. Brian cocked his head at you with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I mean here we are, living, breathing accumulations of stardust and elements of the cosmos, and yet each and every one of us humans is so different. I mean person to person, life is never the same and we find ways to relate to each other and find our way to those who know us best.”

Brian chuckled to himself and playfully nudged you. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re switching to a Literature major, is it? Because that would be utter bollocks.” You threw your head back and laughed. “I’m serious! There’s very few astrophysics majors I can actually talk to. Poor blokes have terrible social skills. I can’t TA on my own either… That would be a nightmare.”

“No, Brian,” you corrected with a lingering giggle, “this is my way of saying that I’m really thankful that the universe made us friends. I’ll have you know, I reckon you’re my best friend actually.” Something about the day was making you feel particularly sentimental.

People didn’t usually take kindly to finding out you were a woman in a science field. Even as a little girl the other girls at school didn’t allow you to play with them and the boys were less than impressed by the fact that you were interested in the same things that they were when they had gone previously unchallenged. High school wasn’t much better.

Not even your family was thrilled by your academic achievements and career choices. You constantly battled them on your choice to pursue your love of space science. You had to fight to be where you were at the university against bigoted professors and even more bigoted classmates.

Brian treated you like you were a classmate of his, female or not. And he had, on more than one occasion, defended your right to be in the astrophysics program. Needless to say, not only was Brian a breath of fresh air but he was your lifeline.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Brian replied. 

“Oh…” You breathed. Your heart panged painfully. That wasn’t exactly what you had expected.

“Because you’re stuck with this curly-haired bloke forever now,” he teased. You laughed in response. That’s all he ever seemed to make you do. “Seriously… is that your final answer?”

“Brian!” You scolded teasingly.

“I’m serious,” he laughed out. “I am really just a blundering idiot behind this modelesque facade.”

“It must be so hard for you,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, nobody said beauty was easy, Y/n.”

[imalwaysintune]

Barbershop Au

This is purely for my own indulgence, as I thought of this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head. I woke up at 5:30 am this morning in a cold sweat and intensely wanted to write about these four funky little men in a barbershop group. No I don’t know why.

Also, I got my new laptop today (yay!) and this is the first thing I’m writing on it, so it’s basically officially cursed now. I also blame @ggracee for fueling this fire.

Enjoy! Stuff under cut!

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

In the Archives:

Martin had been quietly working on his notes when he suddenly felt the air behind him grow colder. His stomach dropped and he turned his chair around, just as he saw the air shift and Peter fade into view. It was terrifying the first time he’d seen it, had seen the way the space shifted and how it looked like the universe was going to collapse into a black hole.

But it hadn’t, and Martin had gotten used to Peter’s comings and goings. Peter himself, on the other hand, was another story. He was cold and heartless, and he had ripped Martin from all his friends and would chastise him every time he even so much as look at another member of the archival staff.

Martin sighed as he leaned his head on his hand, and waited expectantly for Peter to start talking. It was just better this way.

“Hey, Martin. I see you’re busy here doing... things. Um, you know, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor,” Peter seemed almost nervous, to Martin’s surprise. He didn’t normally look Martin in the eye out of habit, but this seemed intentional. 

“As if I have a choice?” Martin sounds bitter, probably more bitter than he meant. He had just been having a rough day, rougher than usual. He wanted nothing more than to talk to Jon, but Peter made that virtually impossible.

“Oh come on Martin, I deserve more credit than that,” Peter looked at Martin directly then, and he looked nervous. It would’ve taken Martin aback if he cared enough. He just rolled his eyes and made a lazy gesture with his hand that roughly meant “go on”.

It wasn’t until that moment that he realized Peter’s hands were held behind his back, and he appeared to be holding something. When he brought his hands forward, they were holding something that looked like a piece of clothing. It was covered with red and white pinstripes, and Martin just stared at with mild surprise.

“So, I know we aren’t really friends. At least, you don’t consider me a friend. But there was no one else we could ask. We lost out last tenor to the Hunt and Elias doesn’t want to switch just to spite me now that I forced him to sing lead, so... you’re basically our only hope,” Peter was almost stumbling over his words, and in that moment he seemed more human to Martin than he had ever seen the man.

“Okay,” Martin said, remembering how much fun the show choir had been when he was in high school. That felt like so long ago now.

“Okay? Just.. okay? Like that? No fighting? You don’t even want me to beg?” The nerves that had fueled Peter just a second ago were replaced with bewilderment. 

“I mean, you can if you want. But, I have nothing better to do, and frankly, the prospect of seeing Elias in that ridiculous suit you’re holding is just too good to pass up,” Martin said as he sat upright in his chair. He grabbed the suit from Peter’s hands and left the room, going to one of the many bathrooms that were littered around the institute. 

He didn’t know what he expected of the suit, but he was pleasantly surprised when he felt the fabric grow and shrink to fit Martin’s form. He absentmindedly wondered what kinda freaky fear magic was used to make the suit fit so well as he examined himself in the mirror.

For how ridiculous he thought the fabric design had looked before, he quite liked how it flattered him. It made his ginger hair pop, and his body looked good. He’d never worn a suit that was properly tailored to him, so it was a nice change.

He walked out of the bathroom and back into the room where he knew Peter would be waiting. His eyes lit up as they landed on Martin, standing up from where he had sat down and walking over to the shorter man. 

He beamed like a proud dad as he pulled out two more items from seemingly nowhere. He held out an iconic boater hat in one hand, and a bright red and white cane that matched the pattern of the suit. 

Martin had the urge to laugh, something he hadn’t felt in awhile, so he let the laughter flow as he grabbed the items from Peter. It almost felt surreal, but it would seem that the being who took away all of Martin’s happiness would also be the one to provide it

Skip forward a few weeks to Elias’s office:

Martin stood outside of Elias’ office, debating whether or not he should follow through with his plan. However, as he figured Elias would already know he was there, he opened the door anyways.

Elias’ was staring up at him from the huge desk in the middle of the room, and Martin swallowed hard.

“Can I help you, Martin?” Elias drawled, looking up at Martin expectantly. 

Martin crossed the room towards Elias, holding a stack of papers that looked like they were dangerously close to spilling everywhere. When he got to the desk, he dropped all the papers on the desk and started rifling through them, looking for a specific paper.

When he finally found it, he picked it up and walked around the desk, coming to settle next to Elias. He placed the paper down and pointed to a specific area on the page.

“I was trying to practice my part of ‘Coney Island Baby’, but I can’t get this one phrase here on page 7. I was wondering if you would work with me on it so that I have something to compare my part against and maybe it can help me-” Martin was abruptly cut off by the dreaded feeling he got when Peter was about to show up.

Sure enough, the space in front of them started to shift and soon Peter was just... there. Martin mentally chastised himself for being so careless. Of course Peter wouldn’t want him talking to anyone outside the time he allowed, even if it was to get help.

“Now, Martin, you surely know why I’m here. I have to say I’m majorly disappointed in you,” Peter didn’t sound disappointed. He sounded like he always did. His inflection rarely changed but it didn’t stop the words from stinging. 

“Look, I’m sorry Peter, but I was just asking for Elias’ help on a part. If you don’t let me ask him for help when you’re not around, how am I supposed to get better?” Martin regretted challenging Peter as soon as the last word left his house.

Peter didn’t look angry. Far from it in fact. He looked like he’d been struck by genius. Martin’s stomach dropped when Peter finally revealed his brilliant idea.

“Here’s an idea. You can sit in the Lonely until all your sheet music is memorized! You need to learn to be part independent, Martin. You’re in the big leagues now.

Before he knew it, Martin felt the air around him grow thick as him and his papers were thrust into the dimension. Right before he lost complete contact though, he managed to thrust out “Can I at least have a pitch-pipe-” before disappearing into the Lonely.

It was Elias who broke the silence, sighing heavily. “You know, Peter, just because I offered you Martin to use for your secret little experiment doesn’t you can take him away from his work. He was doing important filing-” And suddenly with another ‘whoosh’ of Peter’s hand, Elias was destined to join Martin in the Lonely.

He could almost imagine the fit Elias was having, but he told himself that it was all for the best. This was the most productive they were going to be until Simon showed up.

Ah Simon Fairchild, the wild-child of the group. He was unpredictable, rarely showed up rehearsals and yet always seemed to know the sheet music intimately. It was as frustrating as it was liberating, to know that at least someone was serious about the group. 

Oh well. At least this fun little experiment will test if his boys are up to the test.

A non-disclosed theater:

A few weeks after the “Lonely” incident, Peter, Elias, and Martin all gathered at the theater Peter had rented out for their rehearsals. Martin thought it was a bit much, but Peter thought the huge auditorium was perfect. Martin couldn’t even fathom how much something like this cost.

Suddenly, Martin had the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach. He looked over towards Peter, who was smiling giddily. 

To Elias’ left, a being popped into view. He was wearing a dark green suede suit, brown and tan saddle shoes, and a wide brimmed hat that outlined his face like a halo.

Martin had never seen this person before, but Peter was looking at the figure in elation, walking over to him and enveloping the figure in a hug. 

When Martin looked towards Elias for any sort of assistance, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Martin, this is Simon Fairchild. He’s our Baritone. Even though he rarely shows up to rehearsal, I have to admit, he’s a borderline musical prodigy,” Elias explained to Martin. 

Peter and Simon seemed to be in deep conversation, and Martin strained his ears to hear what they were saying.

“-but it seems entirely unfair that you would send them into the Lonely without me. I could’ve helped them! They could’ve been out in half the time. Plus, I’ve never actually been inside The Lonely so it truly would’ve been quite an enlightening experience-” At this, Martin couldn’t stand to listen to Simon again. Talkative, that one.

He turned towards Elias and opened the sheet music for the latest song Peter had assigned to them and got to work. If Simon and Peter wanted to goof off, that was on them. At least he and Elias would be productive.

“One, two, a one two three four-” Martin began, and him and Elias erupted into wonky two part harmony. It wasn’t the most beautiful thing, but it was the most alive Martin had felt in months. 

- THE END!

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

This one is so cursed I’m sorry-

I just really wanted to write about these stupid cursed men if they joined force and made a barbershop group. I don’t have everything I wanted to write about in here, so maybe there will be a part 2 if it seems like y’all want it. Don’t be afraid to hit up my ask box and my ao3!

Words: 1708

[joonsmagicstudio]

Meet Me Where The Waves Touches The Sky: funny things happen i guess? (V)

Note: I put a keep reading break but I am unsure if it is working, if there is no keep reading link then please let me know! I do not wish to bother anyone with long posts.

Story Description: We all have our issues, but some of us are sub-consciously pushing it away without realizing how deep under water we are. You don't realize the things around you aren't what used to be until you meet a celebrity struggling to live. Like the hypocrite you are, you help others without helping yourself first. But no one told you about helping others gives you this exhilarating feeling of being a saint. So for how long are you going to keep being a saint in a doctor's coat?

Genre: Angst, fluff (if you squint) and smut.

Pairing: You x Namjoon

Trigger Warning: It revolves heavily around suicide, depression and death. Please don’t read it if it is a sensitive topic for you. Also keep in mind it isn’t like ‘13 reasons why’. It takes place in more of an adult setting hence mature. It also has mature (+18) scene, alcohol consumption and occasional use of foul language hehe.

I am writing about suicide, death and depression not because I romanticize it or engage in it for others to partake. It is strictly for the purpose of writing a story to convey a message beyond these three words.

Story masterlist is here: MMWTWTTS

Ever since you clocked in for a night shift, working didn't help. Not even the recent news of Jungha's death was able to get your head out of the thoughts of your brothers. You ended up zoning out a lot, your co-workers had to keep snapping you out of your daze every time they found you staring at the hospital beds. They all brushed it off as you being slightly disturbed by Jungha's case, but that wasn't it. You just kept seeing faint and wispy images of your brother lying in a hospital bed weakly, but never failing to shoot you a bright white smile.

That infectious smile that was forever ingrained in your memories. You felt sick to your stomach that despite the fact that death was always near him, he still had it in him to smile. To be happy.

"Doctor Y/N." Wooyoung tapped your shoulder, pulling your attention to him.

"Huh-yeah? Something wrong?" You stitched your eyebrows together in concern at him.

"You are distracted today huh, I guess Jungha must have hit close to home. After all you disappeared after they were cleaning up her body." Wooyoung rested his hands on your shoulder in a comforting manner.

"Ah yes, I-I just feel that I failed to do my job." That wasn't a lie. Failure was something you didn't handle well and your failure was in the form of actual living beings rather than numbers on paper, rather than the number on the ranking for accomplishing something, rather than the finished products for presentation or others.

"I get that Y/N, but it's unlike you. In the past few years of knowing you, this is the most emotion I have ever seen from you," He breaks into a small fit of chuckles and a wide smile, "it's unusual, we are all used to seeing you have a stone-faced expression Y/N and I honestly feel that despite the situation being a grim one, it's a small improvement."

You knew Wooyoung meant well, but your expression of pain wasn't a means of improvement, it meant that you were going to reinforce the wall a bit more now. To you, there was no need for other people to read into you and know you, especially the traits that you particularly disliked to show.

"Why not just stay at home though? Take some time off? Plus my shift is ending soon." Wooyoung asked as he retracted his hands from your shoulder.

"Didn't feel like it, I don't mind working a bit more though. It keeps my mind off things I don't want to dwell in." You shrugged your shoulders. "I'll be in my office then. See you." You hurriedly turned around leaving him stranded in the hallway, you didn't feel like talking to him anymore and you felt guilty over that. You pushed the doors open to your office widely to step in, letting the door swing shut behind you and welcomed the lavender scented air that you had purposely placed there for it's soothing properties and to ensure your patients could ease a bit in the room.

Without hesitation, you strode over to your desk and stood in front of the desk, your palms pressed flat against your desk to support your upper body weight that was hunched over it. Your eyes were shut tight and lips were pressed against each other tightly as loose wisp of your hair hung over your forehead lightly. The only sound that was heard in the room was the soft humming of the ventilators fixed overhead in the ceiling. You really wished you could go back into time to change a few things, maybe notice some more things and maybe just implemented action then and there only. Maybe not realize things too late, or maybe just-just be a better person.

It all started with him, your eldest brother after all.

〰️ 💠 〰️

A few days had passed by, you managed to curb the thoughts of your brothers by throwing yourself into work and Namjoon had come by your place once again and the two of you were sitting on the couch in your living room in silence. Audible clicking sounds of the keyboard from your laptop and occasional sipping sounds from Namjoon's steaming hot cup of tea resonated in the room. Nothing much changed except that Namjoon kept asking you questions, questions about yourself and every single time you managed to dodge them or monotonously answer it, until he struck a chord with one particular question.

"Are you in touch with your family?"

It was a seemingly innocent question, but it bothered you.

"Can you stop fucking asking questions about myself?" You stilled for a second, before continuing to type away at your laptop, updating the information on the recent patients you interacted with recently in your office.

Namjoon was a bit taken aback by your reply, you had cursed at him. He knew instantly that family was a touchy topic for you and backed off knowing that it was probably the best if he stopped asking questions for now. This made him gain a small understanding of why there were no pictures in the house, it was because you weren't on good terms with them, well that's what he had assumed.

The guilt started eating you away the moment when you swore at him for asking a simple question and you couldn't take it any longer considering you were a person who cared so much about what other people thought since it was literally your job to do so.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to swear at you Namjoon", you closed your laptop and pushed it to the side of your lap to give him your undivided attention. "It's just that I don't like being questioned nor do I like talking about myself."

Namjoon silently nodded, eyes trained on you as he sipped slowly on his cup of tea.

"As for my family, yes, I am in touch with them. I've got 2 brothers, I just don't live with them. They live in a house on the outskirts of Busan. I visit them when I have the time." You felt that at least giving an answer to the last question would compensate for your inappropriate outburst at Namjoon.

"Oh, that's nice." That new information almost immediately squashed the idea in Namjoon's of you being on bad terms with your family members. Namjoon didn't know what else to say because he was a little too scared to proceed with the conversation with you. You sensed that, so you decided to ask him.

"What about your family?"

"M-my family?" He sputtered on his tea, he hadn't expected you to keep the conversation going on, "Well they are good, I've got a younger sister. I just haven't been in much contact with them because I'm busy lately and I-"

"You are a celebrity, it's understandable. I'm sure they will understand why you couldn't visit them." You interrupted him, every celebrity you've encountered had a more or less similar issue, family. At least they had a family waiting for them.

"Yeah, you are right. I hope they do." Namjoon looked down in his cup of tea, his shoulders sinking in. You made a mental note to yourself that his family was also playing a role in his stress lately.

"Is there any issue other than distance and lack of time with your family?" You asked, tilting your head slightly at him.

"Well, not really, I just feel guilty for not spending time with them." Namjoon mumbled his reply.

"You should go to them, kind of obvious but what you are missing is the actual confirmation from their mouth that they understand you that you can't visit them." Namjoon looked up at you at last, setting his tea in his lap, "Correct me if I am wrong but you haven't spoken about this with your family, you haven't told them that you were really busy nor have you heard from them that it's okay and they understand it?"

Namjoon couldn't help but let out a painful chuckle, you had hit a dead spot-on the cause of his troubles. He hadn't realized that he never heard it for himself from his family that it was okay and you had made him realize that right now. You took his painful chuckles as a yes.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to pay them a small visit today Namjoon." You stood up and grabbed his mug after glancing to see if it was empty and took it to the kitchen, leaving him to dwell in his own thoughts and on your words.

"Would you come with me?"

You whipped around. You were surprised to hear him ask for your accompaniment but didn't show it on your face, "Me to come to visit your parents?" You repeated what he had said to double-check if he asked correctly.

"I mean you don't have to but it would give me some kind of support I guess."

You pondered over it, torn between going so you could give him some support or that you should stay behind and let him do it independently. The latter is what a therapist would have done and you decided to go against that. But then you already violated the rules since the beginning and no one noticed. By now you didn't know how many rules had you bent and broken.

"Sure, if it helps you." You shrugged your shoulders.

〰️ 💠 〰️

You had offered to drive the two of you to his home in Seoul, it wasn't too far and plus going by train would be difficult since he's the celebrity. Your car wasn't too bad considering you earned a lot as a psychiatrist in the hospital and of course you worked over time with intentions of earning more so you weren't too embarrassed or affected by taking a celebrity in your car.

The ride to his place was fairly quiet except for soft music playing over the radio and the constant hum of the engine and roadway noise. You glanced occasionally at Namjoon, he simply was fixated on staring outside the window, watching everything pass by him fast. He was busy in his own thoughts and you didn't want to disturb him so you let him be until the two of you pulled up by his house.

"Ready?" You unbuckled your seat after switching off the engine. There wasn't any audible response except for a small nod. It wasn't a confident nod. You were quick to react upon that.

"Namjoon, if you aren't ready, no worries we can go home. You can always do this next time when you are more confident."

"No it's fine, I'd much rather get it done now than to keep pushing it. It'll give me proper relief as you had said." Namjoon replied back meekly, as if he was trying to gather the courage for himself.

"Alright, that's good, listen, it'll be difficult but I'm here alright? Do you want me to come inside or wait here?" You rested your hands on his shoulder in a reassuring manner, you didn't want to make him feel pressured nor forced. That generally never worked out well.

"Well, just walk me to the door, you don't need to come inside." He opened the car door and stood outside in the cold, fresh air of Seoul, taking in a huge breath and exhaled sharply. You followed his actions too and locked the car before shoving your hands along with the key in the pockets of your coat.

"That I can do." You gave him a small smile and walked towards the wooden door of his parent's place, the front yard of the house was decorated with bunches of small flowers such as petunias and some unknown generic colourful plants you saw everywhere but never knew what it was called and the small patches of grasses were well trimmed. When you stood in front of the door, you didn't press the doorbell but instead you urged Namjoon to take the initiative. After all he was the one that needed to talk to them, not you.

Few seconds upon ringing the doorbell, an older woman with an apron tied around opened the door, this was unmistakably Namjoon's mother as you saw her. Her eyes sparkled, her mouth stretched into a motherly smile in a fraction of seconds she set her eyes on her son, Namjoon. Anyone could see that she loved her son dearly. All mothers would for their child, with of course some exceptions.

"Namjoon-ah, what brings you here my son?" She lets go of the door handle and takes a step towards Namjoon to bring his face in her hands, she didn't notice you nor greet you but that didn't bother you since it meant that she hadn't seen her son in ages. Namjoon didn't respond but kept looking at his mother, he was slowly losing his courage to actually have the talk with his mother, so you decided to leave him with no choice but to just do it.

"Mrs. Kim, it's a pleasure meeting you." You bowed slightly and pulled out your hand from your coat pocket to greet her, "I'm Namjoon's psychiatrist and I came with him today so that he could talk to you about some things that have been bothering him lately. I thought it would be good for him and I'm sure you would also agree with me." You glanced at Namjoon briefly and he looked like a child who was uncomfortable stuck in a conversation between his parents and teacher as if he had done something bad. "I'll take my leave now and let the two of you discuss it out." You bowed again to his mother and gave Namjoon one pat on his shoulder, "I'll be in the car when you are done." You whispered before heading back to the car, leaving the mother and the son to enter the house. You hoped that Namjoon would talk about it and get it sorted out soon, it would at least mean that one issue is gone and he has got one less problem to worry about.

〰️ 💠 〰️

3 sharp knocks against the car window was good enough to snap you out of your little nap session, the sun had already set and the lamplights were glowing brightly as if they were trying to banish the darkness within the area. Just how long had it been since Namjoon entered his house?

You looked out the passenger window to find Namjoon smiling in a more carefree manner, the talk must have gone well. You couldn't help but smile back too and unlock the car door for him to enter.

"I take it that it went well with your parents?" You watched him buckle up and set a white plastic bag comfortably on his lap.

"It did, thank you Y/N. I really needed that and you made me realize it. They understood my situation and said it themselves that it was okay." He spoke happily like a 6 year old telling their mom what happened at school today.

"That's good to hear. What's with the bag though?" You asked as you pulled out onto the streets leading back to the highway.

"Ah, this? Well, my mom was just a little bit concerned about me not eating properly so she made me take some packed home-made food for the dorm and our members. That's why it took so long because she prepared everything from scratch. I hope it didn't cause you any inconvenience." He patted the bag softly.

"Nonsense, getting home-made food from your mother is hardly an issue." You replied back monotonously. Things like this didn't bother you much since at the end of the day you knew that Namjoon would go back home feeling better, that's all that really mattered.

"My mother also made you something small, I didn't know what you liked so she packed a small box of Kimchi for you. Kimchi is her specialty so I hope you'll like it."

"That's-that's really sweet of your mother. Please do tell her thanks from me then." You were rendered silent for a second, you never really had home-made food since your parents passed away, all you ever ate was crappy ramen that Seonghwa made or just some convenience store packed meal. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the car-ride.

Later in the night, Namjoon bid you goodbye and headed off to his dorm, the small box of Kimchi laid on the seat where he sat moments ago looking cold and almost sad.

You didn't feel like eating it and that felt like being the biggest asshole on earth.

Back at the flat, you contemplated what you were going to with a small box of Kimchi. The food couldn't go to waste so you put the kimchi in a disposable box at the apartment and left Namjoon's box by the sink to wash and return. What were you doing to do with the disposable box of kimchi? You were going to give to someone you thought was more deserving of it than you were. The homeless, the ones who were struggling to get some food to eat..

The disposable box with the kimchi with a heapful serving of rice from your flat was later on given to one of the homeless person living in a poverty ridden area of Seoul. You normally would feel a small sense of gratitude for giving a homeless person a small side-dish to eat but you felt even worse, maybe because you were essentially giving away a home-made food made by a mother with care and love for you only, to someone else.

You definitely didn't deserve any home-made food.

〰️ 💠 〰️

Despite seeing Namjoon a few days ago regarding the parent issues, your mind was still occupied by what more problems you could find within Namjoon. You wanted to fix him as much as you could even though he wasn't officially your patient. You were unintentionally giving him more priority over the severely ill patients but that was because you saw something familiar but new in him. Familiar as if he reminded you of someone from the past and new because it was a different person, different face, different status in the society.

You knew for sure he had a camera issue, splitting his celebrity persona from the real persona. He had issues with his fans in terms of just wanting to go out and not getting bombarded by flocks of fans, but that one was something you couldn't do much about, it was inevitable, it was something that came with the package of being a celebrity.

You were distractedly looking through your schedule for the following patients in the next few days on your laptop. Your chin rested in your left palm as you hunched over the table and mindlessly kept scrolling through until a soft vibration pulled you out of your thoughts about Namjoon, a notification popped up on the screen, it was from your brother, Hongjoong.

'Wanna come over for a night? I know you have work tomorrow, but let's spend some time tonight!'

You rolled your eyes at the message, he knew that you still had work tomorrow and even going by a high-speed train, it would take approximately 3 hours, however your first patient tomorrow doesn't come until 11 AM...It seems possible to go. It's been a while since you had dinner with him anyways. It was 4:30 PM right now, so you grabbed your coat off the coat hanger and bags in a haste, the soonest train you could catch was at 4:50 PM.

'Alright Joongie, but I leave at 7 AM sharp.'

You sent a quick message before boarding the train, you managed to buy the tickets in a nick of time so you were a little out of breath. It didn't take you too long to find a seat by the window and sit down before the train started. Few seconds later, your phone vibrated, that must Hongjoong you thought.

'Yes! I'm so happy my lil sis is coming for dinner at last! Shall I make your favourite ramen?'

You chuckled softly, the two of you had a small ongoing joke over instant ramen, more specifically Seonghwa's ramen.

'Haha very funny, I still want Seonghwa's ramen.'

'Eyy how could you like that ramen? He keeps forgetting to put the flavour while the water is boiling, not when everything is done!'

'Crappy Seonghwa's ramen still is the best!'

'Alright alright, I guess we will be eating some take-out tonight.'

'Huh? Seonghwa isn't home yet?"

'Nope, this idiot is working overtime.'

'Again...?'

You sighed disappointedly, and sent back another text confirming the plans the two of you had made.

'Alright, I'll be home at 8 PM!'

With that note you tucked your phone away and laid back in the train seat, the headphones over your ear playing music loud enough to drown the soft chattering of other passengers and the rumble of the engine working at high speed. Staring outside the window as the scenery blended into one constantly changing motion picture that made you feel that you were breezing through life without ever having some sort of control over it.

〰️ 💠 〰️

The salty aroma of soy sauce along with familiar grease in the chinese take-out and the sounds of soft creaky wooden floorboards welcomed you home in Busan.

"Y/N! Is that you?" Hongjoong head stuck out from the living room door.

"No, it's me, God." You dropped your bag and coat to the side of the entrance hallway.

"That is so overused and not funny anymore." Hongjoong warmly smiled and walked up to you to engulf you in a warm bear hug. You sighed contentedly, closing your eyes and snuggled your head into the crook of his neck, "How have you been Y/N?" Hongjoong asked, softly caressing the back of your head before pulling away.

"Just so-so Joongie." You wrapped your arms around his arm as the two of you headed towards the living room where a considerably large-sized plastic bag laid atop of the table, containing all sorts of Chinese take-out Hongjoong chose.

"Well, I'm sure it will get better, whatever is bothering you, it'll go away eventually." Hongjoong handed you a pair of chopsticks as he pulled out few boxes of noodles.

"I guess so, like you for example, you are recovering now." You fell back into the couch in the living room and took the first bite out of the noodles. Hongjoong too sat down and opened up his take-out box, "Yeah I guess, I am recovering, the cancer is gone now." He swirled his chopstick in the box of the noodles, not taking a bite yet. That went unnoticed by you as you were too busy inhaling the noodles, after all travelling made you incredibly famished sometimes or maybe just eating with the family was better than eating alone.

"But, aside from that. Something else is bothering me." You stated, mouthful of noodles which made you look like a chipmunk for a moment.

"What is?" Hongjoong rose one of his eyebrows at you, urging you to proceed with what was bothering you.

"It's Seonghwa, Joongie."

"Not this again, you know Seong-" Hongjoong sighed sharply as his mouth opened slightly, tilting his head in a full circle before he took a good look at you.

"No, I mean like I am working now, I am earning well. I am able to support all of you aren't I? So why won't he just stop working?" You set down the empty box of the noodles and set the chopstick next to it on the table.

"Y/N, Seonghwa wants to work, let him-"

"Why? There is absolutely no sense in him working his ass off when he could have gone to University ages ago! It's been several years and he keeps working part-time, even when you got better and I started working." You interrupted your brother, you rarely interrupted your brother but this time it was getting ridiculous to hear Hongjoong constantly defend your elder brother over this matter. You guys have had arguments this many times and it always was Hongjoong defending Seonghwa. You couldn't quite grasp the idea of your eldest brother constantly over-working despite things being financially fine now.

"He should have gone and completed his university, it was his dream to become a nine-to-five office worker. He had that chance and now it's too late, you too, I finished university and the two of you could still apply for late admission." You were borderline spitting words at your brother, watching him become uneasy at your anger, it wasn't like you to get angry anyways.

"What is done is done Y/N. Just let it be. Maybe he likes working these kinds of jobs more than doing office work." He sighed, shoulders slumping down. You had nothing to say anymore, he still kept defending him for continuously working and you gave up. At least you respected his determination and tenacity to constantly defend Seonghwa.

The two of you sat in an uncomfortable silence that had steeped in after your small burst out. You glanced at his uneaten, now cold box of noodles, "Aren't you going to eat? You still need to eat Hongjoong."

Hongjoong simply closed the take-out box and pushed it further away from him on the table, "Look Y/N, I just wanted to have one simple dinner with you. No arguments or anything, but that seems too difficult for you I guess. I'm not that hungry anyways, the chemo messed up my appetite these days." Hongjoong stood up, clenching his teeth slightly in disappointment at you as his eyes bore tiredly into your head.

"I understand Joongie," You tried using his nickname to coax him a bit, to soften the atmosphere you had ruined, "Please at least eat something, I get it the chemo messed you up, but you are getting skinnier even though the chemo is over now. You are much more skinnier than I saw you last time. You need a bit of food in your system."

"You see, the way you are supporting and helping me, why don't you do the same for Seonghwa huh? Why not go visit his workplace and check on him, or see if he is eating well instead of coming here and ruining some time together by ranting about the past?" This time it was Hongjoong's turn to get angry. You were rendered silent by his words, you didn't say anything back because deep down, you knew he was right. As a sister, you should have at least been supportive of what Seonghwa is doing and at least check up on him whenever you were in the area.

"I'm off to bed. Sleep or go home, I don't care. Do whatever you want." With that, Hongjoong turn on his heels and walked back to his room in a solemn manner. The sounds of the creaky wooden floorboards got farther and farther away until you heard the door close, effectively ending the noise from the floorboards.

Guilt and regret coursed through your body as you gingerly cleared the food and chopsticks away to avoid disturbing Hongjoong from whatever he may be doing in his room. Then a small, but clear sound of light clicking off told you that he went to bed, without wishing you a goodnight. That hurt deeply even though it wasn't anything major.

〰️ 💠 〰️

You laid in your bed of your old bedroom in that house in the darkness, constantly shifting due to restlessness and uneasiness of today's conversation between Hongjoong plaguing your mind. If you had kept your mouth shut and enjoyed the meal, chattered about useless and miniscule stuff, maybe then the two of you could have been watching a movie together late in the night to wait for Seonghwa to come back home so it would haven't ended everything so abruptly. Your throat had gone dry from being awake for hours and a pounding headache came like an unwanted guest, so you went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

"Y/N?" A familiar husky voice called out your name, it was undeniably Seonghwa. Why was he back home at 4 or 5 am? Well, when is he not back at that time.

"Seonghwa, you came? Why so late though?" You turned around, gulping down the glass of cold water which quenched your dry throat.

"The convenience store, my shift was till 4 am." He walked up the sink and stood by your side to fill up a glass of water for himself.

The need to ask him why was he still continuously working so late built up again, you didn't want to upset him, especially when he came late and is definitely dead tired.

"You want to ask me something Y/N. Go ahead, I can feel it whenever you want to ask, there's no point keeping it to yourself." Seonghwa braced himself mentally, he had a gist of what you were planning to ask him, it was pretty much the elephant in the room, one way or the other, someone was going to have to address it. It would be more surprising to Seonghwa if you didn't ask about it.

"Why do you still keep working, that too ridiculously late when I can do this for all of you?" You blurted out, eyeing Seonghwa cautiously for any signs of irritation. Only thing you picked up was a deep and long sigh.

"I've told you before, I want to keep doing this. I want to keep earning for all of us."

"But I am earning now, you could have gone back to university and have gotten that job you have always wanted." You mused, you still hadn't grasped why he kept doing this, it seemed completely inconvenient to you.

"I get that, it's logical to you, but I don't mind doing this. I like doing this Y/N. I like working various activities till I am exhausted."

"So, you like this better than the office job?" You asked hesitantly, you weren't so keen on accepting his reply as an answer to his actions.

"Yes, I do Y/N. Funny things happen I guess. Just leave it for now, will you?" Seonghwa patted your head, much more half-heartedly than he used to a few years ago and more out of habit, initially that bothered you but then you eventually accepted it. It seemed like this was the best you were going to get for a long time now that the relationship between the two of you had soured beyond repair. It wasn't just the issue of him working late that got in the way of the two of you, there was so much more that had yet to be resolved.

With that, you were left alone in the kitchen, in the darkness. Sounds of the creaky floorboard faded away just like Hongjoong and the door closing ended it all.

Well that family reunion went well.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Jughead//...Baby One More Time

Request: Would I be able to request a reader/jughead smut where you both find out the other is sleeping in the school, maybe you happen upon each other in the showers?

Warning: Smut! ooooo

After school most people run out the doors as fast as they can. Once the bell goes, they leave as quickly as possible, a trail of dust behind them as they all race to get home. 

Not me however. Whilst everyone was running and pushing past me, trying to be the first ones out the door, I’m slowly wandering the halls, waiting for it to quiet down so I can hide in the old supply closet in peace. Not ideal, no. But for now it’s all I have. Growing up on the Southside meant you don’t have a lot to begin with, but throw in some lousy parents and missed rent payment, and you have no other choice to say goodbye trailer that you’ve grown up in, and hello to cramped, dark school supply closet. 

Things haven’t been great at home, my dad has been drinking more than usual and my mom was off doing god knows what, but me? I was coping...kinda. Doing a few shifts at the Wyrm each week and the money that my dad made when he actually did work was enough to scrape by. However school had picked up its pace, meaning revision and homework instead of wiping down bars. And dad had been more than useless, a few days later him and mom had disappeared, leaving behind a note saying they were going away for a while. Meaning I missed the rent payment (+ apparently dad hadn’t been the best at keeping up with them), so I was kicked out, and with no where else to go, Riverdale High is my new home. Yay, me... 

I mean sure, I have friends on the Southside. I have plenty of them, but they have their own problems and their trailers were small enough as it is, never mind adding one more person. 

And living in the school isn’t that bad. For a supply closet, its kinda cozy. I have a little blow up bed, a duvet and tons of shelves to put all my things on, I just have to share them with cleaning products and mouse traps. But, it’s in a part of the school thats rarely visited and I do get first dibs on the vending machines when they’re re-filled, plus I know where to hit them exactly to get free food. And because I’m staying at the school constantly, I know all the drama thats happening with the teachers. Like who’s sleeping with who and who’s stealing Mrs Thompson’s pens. 

Oh, who am I kidding. Living in a school sucks. It’s lonely, cramped and cold. Plus, just a nightmare. The only plus point? The showers. The school showers are the best I’ve ever had. They’re the highlight of my day, which to be honest, is quite sad to admit. 

Okay, 3:30. That means I have two hours to kill before the school is completely  empty and then I can shower. Library or bleachers? Library, I’ll do my homework for the week. 

“Y/n!!!!” Sweet Pea’s deep voice breaks the silence that has settled over the library, making me giggle. “What the fuck are you looking at?” He glares at two people sat at the table beside him who are staring and shaking their head at him. Both of them shake their head quickly and stare at the table. 

“I don’t mean to offend you.” I start and sit opposite him. “But what exactly are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” He asks offended. 

“Its 3:34, meaning school finished ages ago, and you’re sat in the library doing...” I trail off as I look at the work he has open in front of him. “Spiderman?” 

“I can’t afford to buy it, but sometimes the library gets the new ones in, however because I’m a Serpent, I can’t take them home.” He explains. 

“Ohhhh. Yeah that makes more sense than you actually doing homework.” 

“Yeah. Who do you think I am?” 

“Sooooo.” I start, taking out the History homework from my bag. “Where’s the rest of the gang?” 

“Ermmm.” He says absentmindedly. “Toni is with Cheryl. As always.” He rolls his eyes making me giggle. “Fangs is helping Kevin with the drama department. And Jones? I dunno where Jones is. I saw him last period but he was acting weird.” 

“Weird?” 

“Yeah. Weird.” 

“Care to expand?” 

“Not really no.” He shakes his head. “I’m trying to read.” 

“Ouch.” I placed a hand over my heart. “Don’t worry, I got the hint. I’ll shut up.” I added and he grinned at me. 

-----

“Do you wanna ride home?” Sweet Pea asks as he stands up. 

“Errr.” I stuttered. “Its fine. I have a bit more to do.” 

“You sure?” He asks again and I nod slightly, sending him a soft smile. “Watch out Y/n. Your bordering on nerd territory.” He teases and I roll my eyes. He laughed as he walked to the front desk, handing the comic to the old lady that was looking him up and down. 

“Ha. Ha.” I deadpan and he looks back, laughing softly. 

“See ya.” He mock salutes before wandering out the library, leaving me alone...again. 

5:25 finally rolled around and I dragged myself out of the library and down the dark corridor so I could hide for five minutes. Once I was sure that everyone left I grabbed my towel and wash bag and made my way to the showers in the basement. Whistling as I went. Sometimes its nice to fill the quiet, what’s not nice though, is when you hear somebody else whistling faintly. 

“Oh shit.” I whispered and gripped the towel tighter to my body. Because that’s gonna save you from a serial killer. Okay. What would any normal person do in this situation. Well, I suppose no normal person would be living inside a school, so maybe that wasn’t the best thing to ask myself. 

Right, I have three options. Go back to the supply closet I call home and hope to god that whoever this person or thing is, doesn’t need any cleaning supplies in the near future. Run far away from the school and sleep in the park until they go away. Or be brave and maybe a little stupid and face this school demon, head on. Maybe it was the fact that I had been living in the school for a few days, making me slightly delirious. Or maybe it was because I’d witnessed Sweet Pea reading for what felt like the first time in forever, but apparently I’m feeling brave, so toothbrush gripped tightly in one hand, and razor in the other, towel over the shoulder and wash bag tucked under my arm, I decide to investigate...very slowly. Until I figure out if whatever this things is, is a threat or not. 

“Wait.” That tune is familiar. The whistling has turned into soft singing. “Is that Britney?” I ask myself, relaxing as I stop in the middle of the corridor. What kind of ghost/demon/killer sings Britney Spears while they’re showering in school?

Whoever is in the shower is not threatening, however this could all be one big ploy to brutally murder me. I grip the toothbrush tighter and slowly make my way forward, until I’m stood right in front of the shower curtain. Whoever this person is, is really getting into the chorus of ...Baby One More Time, making a smile replace the frown on my face. Okay, deep breath Y/n. You can do this. And if this is how you die, at least they’ll be a good soundtrack to go out with. Pulling the curtain back, I make eye contact with a very familiar Serpent and the two of us stand screaming for a few seconds. 

“Jughead!?” I shout, my hand gripping the shower curtain tightly. The razor and wash bag have long been forgotten, failing to the floor as I opened the curtain, but the toothbrush is still gripped hard in my hand and I can’t help but think how unthreatening I would look if this was a serial killer and not just a fellow serpent.

“What the fuck!!!” He screams and squeezes the soap he was using as a microphone. 

“Ahhhh. Holy shit! Cover yourself up.” I stutter and start to back up, my hands covering my eyes. 

“Cover up?” He asks. “I’m in the shower!” He adds and grabs the shower curtain, hastily covering himself. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, finally recovering from the shock. However I can’t help but bite my lip and the sight that was just before me. Jughead Jones in all of his glory. I mean, it’s not so bad. 

“What am I doing here?” He asks sarcastically and I nod my head. “I’m having a fucking wedding, what does it look like.” He shouts, now more angry than anything else and I flinch at the tone. 

“Sorry.” I mumble, hastily picking my stuff up from the floor and turning around. “Forget you saw me here, and I’ll forget I saw you. And I’m really sorry.” I ramble, my cheeks heating up. I make it a few steps forward before a wet hand is on my wrist pulling me back. I turn around, finding myself face to face with Jughead. My eyes trail down and my eyebrow quirks up. “I think you forgot something.” I whisper in his ear and he looks at me confused before looking down and blushing profusely. 

“Can you pass me my towel please?” He asks quietly and I nod, an amused smile taking over my features. I pass him the towel that was hanging on a stall beside me and he hastily wraps himself up. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes and you shrug.

“It’s fine.” 

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have snapped. I just got a...fright. I thought I was in some sort of re-enactment of Psycho.” 

“I thought I was in a re-enactment of every teen horror film ever while I walked down the corridor.” I admit and the two of us laughed softly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Family troubles. Me and my dad have been arguing recently so I decided to get away, give him some space.” He shrugs, a sad expression taking over his face. I frown sympathetically at him and place a hand on the top of his arm, giving it a soft squeeze.

“How long you been staying here?” 

“A few weeks. I’ll probably go back soon.” 

“Why didn’t you just stay with some friends. You have plenty?” I ask and he looks around the room shyly. 

“I, err. I didn’t want to bother any of them.” He admits. 

“Ah...I get that.” I nod and the two of us look around awkwardly. “Well, erm. I’ll let you get back to your shower. You still had suds in your hair and you need to finish the rest of your song.” I excuse myself and start to walk backwards. “I must say Jones, I didn’t have you down as a Britney fan.” I tease and he rolls his eyes. 

“Wait!” He calls and I stop. 

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you here?” He asks and its now my turn to look away. The floor looks really appealing right now, so much so that I think I may be burning a hole into the tile. However, the intensity of Jughead’s stare is burning a hole in my head and I can’t take it for much longer. I suppose he told me why he’s here, I may as well give him the same. 

“My mom and dad went...away...for a while.” I start, trying to piece together the right words. Its so much harder to say out loud, to another actual human being and the tears in my eyes are threatening to fall. However, I’m not gonna cry in front of a half naked Jughead Jones while the two of us stand in the schools bathroom. At least not today. “Schools been kicking my ass so I had to stop working at the Wyrm and well, I ended up missing the rent. So now I’m here. Home sweet home.” I try to play it off and it’s my turn for the sympathetic look, which for the record, is absolutely no help at all. 

“Y/n...” He starts, his eyes softening as he looks at me out of pity. “I’m so so-” 

“It’s fine.” I cut him off. 

“Do you know when they’ll be back?” 

“Who?” I ask, I’m only half listening now, there’s a lot of things going on in my mind right now, but the main thing is that Jughead is stood half naked in front of me. And I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about this. I mean, maybe not in this context and he is totally fully naked, but, I mean its practically the same thing. 

“Your parents.” 

“Oh, I dunno. Probably soon. But until then it’s Riverdale High all the way!” I fake cheer and he laughs. 

“Yep.” He agrees and raises his fist slightly. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” 

“I didn’t want to bother anyone.” I shrug. 

“Ah.” 

“Yeahhh.” I trail off and we look at each other. His eyes look so pretty in this light. And his hair is all floppy and curly an-

“Did you hear that?” He asks, panic evident in his voice and eyes. 

“What?” I ask, but he grabs my wrist and pulls me into the shower cubicle. 

“Jones! Ask a lady firs-” 

“Shhh.” He places a hand over my mouth and my eyes widen in surprise. His arm is around my waist pulling me tightly against him and the dampness from his chest in making my t-shirt kinda wet. However my thoughts are quickly interrupted when the door to the bathroom opens and the two of us share a look. 

“What the hell?” A man’s voice asks confused and I squeeze my eyes shut. If we’re caught like this, we’re dead for so many reasons. The two of us listen closely as the man picks up the things I dropped on the floor. He looks around, well I assume he does. He could be doing anything for all I know. And then he walks out, closing the door behind him and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The two of us stay in the position for a few minutes longer before I look between the two of us and pull apart (as much as I didn’t want to). 

“Dammit.” I mutter as I open the shower curtain. “He stole my things. The only thing I have is my toothbrush.” Jughead laughs softly behind me and I turn to glare at him playfully. “And that was my good razor too...and towel!” 

“You can always share mine.” Jughead suggests and I eye him suspiciously. 

“What exactly are you proposing Jones?” 

“That you can share my soap and shower gel...and shower.” He winks at the end making me snort, before blushing profusely. “You’re cute.” He laughs and I roll my eyes. “Are you coming?” He asks and holds the shower curtain open. 

“Hopefully.” I reply, sending him a smirk and making my way back towards him and the shower. He turns it on and takes his towel off as I quickly undress. And soon the two of us are stood in front of each other, the hot water running over us as he looks at me with lust filled eyes. “Well, this is not how I imagined today ending.” 

“Are you complaining?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Absolutely not.” I shake my head and his lips are on mine in an instant. He pushes me backwards, his hands gripping my waist as my back hits the cold shower wall and I shiver against him. He pulls me closer to him, making me whimper at the feeling of pushing against me. My hands trail down his chest, while his fingers tangle in my hair and pulls softly. I stop just above where he needs me most and he pulls harder making me moan. The sound seems to travel straight to his dick as his semi, hardens against my thigh. My hand finds it and slowly starts to pump him up and down making him groan in my mouth. 

“Fuck.” He moans softly, the wetness between my legs builds up and I smirk and move quicker. He pulls away and I pout, however he soon makes up for it, one hand plays with my nipples while the other travels down my stomach and stops just above my clit. 

“Please.” I whimper and he gives me a lopsided grin before he starts to rub me, a finger dipping into my core making me buck my hips. He pulls out and away as quickly as he was in me and I whine, a pout taking over my features. 

“Jump, pretty girl.” He whispers in my ear and I waste no time in obeying. Jumping and wrapping my legs around his hips while his arms hold the back of my thighs, pushing me against the shower wall again. He pulls away just a little in order to line himself up with my core, and then presses a kiss against my lips as he slides in slowly. We both moan at the feeling and his head leans against mine as he starts to move, slowly at first but the pace soon quickens until my back is hitting off the wall and his hands are gripping at my things, both hard enough to leave marks. “You feel so good around me.” He manages to make out between heavy breaths. 

“Fuckkkk.” I moan loudly and he looks at me with an unreadable expression. 

“So good baby girl.” He adds breathily. 

“Faster.” I manage to pant out and he thrusts his hips harder and faster, one of the hands gripping the back of my thighs travels to my clit and he rubs hard figure-eights on it, making me scream. The sound of skin against skin mixes with both our moans and they echo against the tiles, which turns me on more. 

“You close baby girl?” He asks, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth and I nod before smashing my lips against his. 

“You’re so hot.” I pant and he giggles against my lips. 

“Thats you baby.” His movements gradually increase before I moan loudly and scratch my nails down his back, my walls clenching around him as I cum. He follows quickly and drops my legs gently. I shake a little and use his shoulders to keep myself steady. The two of us catch our breath, the hot water running over us, and the only sound in the bathroom being the two of them mixed together. I can’t help but smile up at Jughead, who is already smiling back at me. We catch our breaths and actually start washing. 

“Ya know.” I start and he looks at me intrigued. “Maybe living in school won’t be that bad.” I shrug and he laughs. 

“Maybe not, no.” He agrees. “However if I knew this would happen I would have moved in ages ago.” 

“I didn’t live here ages ago.” I remind him and he rolls his eyes as he pushes his head underwater. 

“Yeah, I know.” He replies sarcastically and I stick my tongue out at him. 

“Quit hogging the water.” I push him softly and he laughs. 

“I’m not.” He defends and I raise an eyebrow at him. He laughs louder before moving out the way. “Here, let me.” He says, picking the shower gel up from the bathroom floor. 

“Thanks.” I blush as he pours some on his hands before rubbing it into my scalp. 

“Y/n?” He asks and I hum in acknowledgment. “When I move back in with my dad...if your parents aren’t back, you’re welcome to stay with me.” 

“Thanks Juggy.” I reply sincerely and the two of us blush at the nickname. “However, I don’t know if I’m gonna get used to you singing Britney. Don’t get me wrong, I love Britney, she’s an icon. But you butchered her.” I tease and he pulls my hair playfully, however it has the opposite effect that he wanted, and I end up moaning softly. “Hey!” I turn around and glare at him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

“Who says I can’t finish it?”