#we’re getting a photo with him tomorrow that I obviously can’t post here

[autisticstevenuniverse]

Xena Con day 1! (Part 3)

Now THIS is what I came here for! Most of our picture and autograph tickets are for tomorrow, but today we met Ted Raimi!! And he signed one of my beautiful art cards! He even liked and joked about my name (in a nice way), though I obviously blacked it out here.

I also got to be one of the 30 people playing yes/no trivia about the show and I made it to the last 4 before getting one wrong! We also signed up for karaoke tonight!

[your-averagewriter]

Follow You.

Summary/request: I would like to request an Oli Sykes x F!reader, ( can she be younger than him?) where they are in a semi secrete relationship ( like you have to really stan the group/him to know that because they are so lowkey). Oli/BMTH has been on tour for a while now and reader starts missing him a lot so she decides to surprise so to make sure it doesn't get spoiled she decides to buy her own ticket. So she has to stand in the queue, get through security and stuff like that. Some fans recognized her and asked for some pictures but she asked them to not post it until after the show. She also got distracted by the merch that she also bought and realized that now she has to stand at the barricade in the far side. And Oli is so shocked for a moment but he introduced her in a really cute way and he also sang follow you with her on stage and I'll leave the rest to you 🙂☺️

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: swearing, kissing

-

-

“I miss you.” I whine through the phone, laying on my bed.

“I miss you too, darlin’.” He replies and I imagine him pacing around his changing room preparing for the show. “But we’re over half way through the tour now.” He tries to assure.

“Yeah, but the tour is really long! There’s loads of shows left.” I say, frowning but then I get an idea during the short silence. There’s still tickets for some of his shows and if they aren’t then I’m sure I could get a ticket anyway - being Oli’s girlfriend comes with a few perks, one being front row tickets to their shows.

“I’m sorry, love, but I’ve gotta go - the stage hand just came in and said it’s five minutes till we’re on.” He says but I can’t really contain my smile.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” I quickly reassure. “I’ve gotta go too.” I say, smiling.

“Okay, I’ll call you after?” He asks and I check my watch.

“Tomorrow?” I ask, sweetly. “It’s already 1:00 am here.” I chuckle.

“Shit. Okay, get some sleep, okay?”

“Yeah, you too, love. Bye.” I hang up and immediately grab my laptop. I sign into ticketmaster and click through the different gigs, there’s one tomorrow which I couldn’t get to so I choose one about a week later. There’s no standing tickets left so I quickly call Dave, one of their manager/finacial guys who I’m friends with.

“Hey, could you get me a standing ticket to that America show I sent to you?”

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

I drag my suitcase behind me as I leave the airport. The flight was long but I was sat by myself and just listened to some good music (it might have been Bring Me The Hoirzon because I really miss Oli but that’s not a necessary detail). I get into a taxi and make my way to the hotel I’m staying at, it’s not high end but I’m certainly not sleeping on the streets.

I haven’t checked my phone since I got on the plane as I was a bit stressed out because of all the baggage and airport stuff but I switch it back on and see countless missed calls from Oli.

Sitting in the back of the taxi I call him back. I keep it cool and don’t tell him about how I’m in America now.

The show is in a couple of days so I spend my spare time exploring America, making the most of the time I have here.

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

Finally, it’s the day of the show and I get to the venue about 30 minutes before doors open and their were a surprising amount of people already here. But on the way I get distracted by the merch stall, obviously I had to go over to it and check it out. The young guy working there passes me the multiple items of merch I request and I hand him over the cash I owe for them. I get back in the queue and try to stuff all my products in my bag but I can’t fit them all in so I have to put on both the BMTH T-Shirt and the hoodie on top. I manage to get the rest in my bag but I see a couple of women (probably inin their early 20s) looking at me, or at least I think they are. After a few more minutes they come over to me with big smiles.

“Hey, you’re (y/n), right?” One of them asks and I nod.

“The one and only.” I chuckle.

“Can we get a photo?” The other asks.

“You want a photo… with me?” I ask, confused but they just nod eagerly. “Okay then.” I chuckle and they stand next to me. I wrap my arms around their shoulders as they take a couple of selfies.

“You’re so cool.” One of them says.

“What are your names? Seeing as you know mine.” They tell me their names: Hannah and Vivienne although she prefers Viv. “I love your eyeliner by the way!” I point out Hannah’s makeup. “How do you do that?” I ask, impressed.

I exchange numbers with them so that they can send me the photos.

“If you’re gonna post the photo please could you not post it until after the show?”

“Sure, but why?” Viv asks but Hannah gasps, interrupting her.

“Oli doesn’t know that you’re here!” She exclaims and I only smile in response.

We stand in the queue together for a while before doors open and we enter the venue but then we split up. I surprisingly meet a couple more people who ask for photos with me. I’ve never really been asked for a photos before so it was a bit weird.

Finally though I get to a good space (near the front like I planned) and I enjoy the support bands especially A Day To Remember because I'm secretly a big fan of theirs. I dance along and jump around and even mosh a little bit and I have so much fun but then, disappointingly, their set ends. But on a more positive note, that means BMTH will be on soon.

It gets too hot for the hoodie I bought earlier so I attempt to stuff it in my bag but before then I see one of their stage hands that travels around on your with them so I walk over to him with a smile and ask him if I can pop back stage to store my merch. He agrees as he knows me fairly well but I ask him not to tell Oli I'm here and he just smirks at me.

I head back to the floor, hands free and I stand on the far right of the stage at the barrier (much to my delight). I check out the BMTH top I bought earlier and it fits really nicely, it makes my figure look great but it's not really tight.

I wait patiently at the barrier not being able to contain my smile, thinking of the point when Oli sees me. But all the other fans at the barrier must be big BMTH fans too so they're also smiling - I blend in.

A few moments later and graphics start appearing on the board behind where the bands play. And the intro to Can You Feel My Heart? Starts playing and along with the rest of the fans I go a little crazy. I look over and see that a couple of other members see me in the crowd but I raise a finger to my lips signaling for them to not say anything.

A couple of songs later and Oli makes his way off the stage to walk across the barrier which isn't a rare thing, I've seen countless videos of him interacting closely with the fans at the front. I watch carefully and clap as he approaches where I am in the crowd.

He looks straight at me as he makes his way along the barriers and our eyes meet. Smiling at him I watch as his face lights up even more than it had before. He looks shocked which makes me chuckle but he quickly snaps out of it and jogs towards me.

His smile matches my along with a face of relief. He presses his forehead against mine and wraps his arms around my neck. I place a kiss on his lips quickly and a whispered confession.

"I missed you so much." I whisper to him but I can tell by his eyes he heard me.

It's as if the crowd's melted away and it's just us now but the crowd is going crazier than ever tonight.

"Come on." He beckons quietly by my ear so that I can hear him.

"Go up?" I ask confused, this was not part of the plan but he just nods. "Okay then." I say and he calls (with the help of a couple kind fans) lifts me up over the barrier and I end up in a bridal style carry.

I bury my face in his neck, embarrassed.

"Oli, put me down." I say as he carries me to the stage.

"C'mon, darlin'." He says with a toothy smile I simply can't resist.

He climbs up onto stage, somehow still carrying me in his arms but we make it to the center of the stage.

I chuckle nervously as I look out on the arena full of people, fans cheering for Oli. He puts me down gently but keeps his arm wrapped around my shoulders.

"This… is (y/n), some if you may know her…" He trails off, placing a kiss on my cheek. "If you didn't you do now. She's…" I expect him to say girlfriend or partner but the rest of his sentence shocks me. "The love of my life." He announces to the hundreds of thousands of people and I look at him slightly shocked. "And I haven't seen her for weeks, months even." He says speaking to the audience but it feels like he's just speaking to me. "For this next song I want you to sing along with us as loud as you can." He looks to me with a sparkle in his eyes and I rest my head on his chest. "This song is called Follow You." He says and cheers erupt again.

The intro to the song starts playing and I look at him, nothing but adoration in my eyes. There is truly no one I'd rather spend my life with than this man and I couldn't be more glad that he feels the same.

He starts rocking slowly holding onto me and starts singing the song. Obviously I know the words to the song, I know all their songs but I don't sing along until he prompts me to with the lowering of the mike to my height.

I look at him doubtfully but he reassures me with his eyes so I start singing gently into the mike. This is definitely one of the best moments of my life.

In a short instrument only section of the song he turns around slightly and places one of his hands on my shoulders and one on my waist. I look at him confused as he starts to slow dance with me but I relax into it, resting my arms around his neck, draped over his shoulder and laying my head on his chest.

"I love you." I says and I smile.

"I love you too." I say and once again forget the crowd are even there.

At the end of the song I'm snapped out of the trance and look back at the crowd, the numerous phone lights and recording cameras that litter the audience. It's quite harsh to look at so I just look at Oli.

"(y/n) (l/n), everyone." He says, releasing me from his arms like a presentation. I smile meekly as the audience cheers and screams, it is overwhelming but in a good way.

"Thank you, everyone for letting this be such a special show and letting (y/n) be here as well." He says, sounding like it's the end of the show but this is only the fourth or fifth song.

"We'll be right back." He says before lovingly dragging me backstage. "You're fucking incredible." He says to me, once his mike is discarded. "I can't believe you." He says wrapping his arms around me, leaving little space for breathing. "Traveling to America, sneaking into one of our shows." He mock chastises.

"You know you love me." I say, my voice slightly muffled my his chest.

"I do, maybe a little too much, darlin'."

-

AN: I hope you enjoyed reading!

I loved the request, if any of you guys wanna request things like BMTH or similar then go for it!

[nancypullen]

Where Was I?

It’s been a busy few days, where did I leave you? I think we were stuffing our faces with Valentine food.  I’ve been on a celery and salad kick since then - my arteries need scrubbing.  Since then we’ve made more progress on the kitchen (hardware added, sink and faucet ordered, quartz counters ordered) and I love it more every day.   Here’s the hardware -

They’re a warm, oil-rubbed bronze finish and Mickey made short work of attaching them to 28 cupboards and drawers.  My hero.  That’s why you see a glimpse of his shop vac in the second photo - he even sucked up sawdust from his drill as he worked.  His mama trained him right.   We finally chose and ordered our countertops. I spent a long time shuffling and staring at samples.

I thought I’d be more of a fan of the sort of soapstone sample - the rectangular, dark tile that’s middle left.  Maybe I should have waited until we had the hardware on and viewed hem that way. Nah, I knew that I was getting the right vibe from some of the beige pieces.  I zeroed in on one that is a few shades darker than the cabinets, but in the same family. Not too cool, not too warm, has a soft, creamy feel, that sort of thing.  

I didn’t like the really busy samples at all.  The darker options seemed too harsh in the open concept (I hate that phrase) floor plan we have. Beige worked best, but some were too light, some were too gray, and the sample named Taj Royale was baby bear’s chair - just right.

Our installation date is March 10th and I can’t wait.  Hallelujah! In even better news, Matt arrived yesterday!  He came home to spend his birthday week with us and it’s already been fun. Tomorrow he’ll be 38 and there’s absolutely no way I can have a child that old. NO way. How did that happen?? Obviously, I was a child bride. When Matt and I are together something weird usually happens.  We’re both freak magnets, and we thoroughly enjoy that.  Today we went out and about on a couple of errands but it was all very ordinary. Bummer.  We’ll try again tomorrow.

One of the stops that we made today was at an auction house.  There’s a company in Denton that deals in estate sales and that sort of thing and they have an auction every week.  During the pandemic everything went online and they’ve never gone back to hosting live auctions.  They post a catalog of items every Sunday and customers have all week to scroll through it.  On Saturdays and Sundays they throw open the doors so you can inspect the goods, and bidding ends on Monday, with auctions closing every few seconds.  We have lost our ever-loving minds over this stuff.  Last week we picked up two Cracker Barrel rocking chairs for less than the price of one.  Score!  I bought a gorgeous large mirror to start a makeover of the downstairs powder room...and only paid four dollars for it. The cheapskate in me is quivering with delight.

Here’s the mirror, stashed in the garage.  You can see the rockers too!

Don’t judge that corner of the garage. It’s a work in progress.

I’ve picked up batches of gorgeous picture frames for a few dollars. Mickey won the bid for a beautiful Longaberger storage basket with a wooden lid that is currently storing vinyl and paper in my craft room. It’s so nice. We turned Tyler and Jamie on to the auction sit and they’ve made a couple of fabulous purchases.  Yesterday’s auction had some wonderful patio furniture that I wish I had a need for - and it went cheap.  We did get these great wicker trunks for the master closet, perfect for keeping things tidy.

They’re in excellent condition and you know I love pretty storage.  I couldn’t resist this adorable baby doll cradle.

It rocks perfectly.  I’ll clean it up and make it sweet for the grandgirl to tuck her baby into. You know there will be rosebuds and lace involved. One of the items that Jamie purchased was an exceptionally nice faux plant. She’d been shopping for one for their home office, and as you know they’re ridiculously pricey.  I sent her pics from the auction house of three different plants and this was the winner.

She won it at just over the five dollar mark.  She’ll fluff it up and put it in a pretty pot and she’s saved herself about a hundred bucks. I’m giddy over the bargains.

Mickey purchased this thing.

He says it’s a saw, and that giant rolling case has some saw-related paraphernalia in it.   He’s looking toward retirement and thinking of making frames (for his millions of photos) and doing a bit of woodworking like his dad did.  I’ve shared a few of the purchases the Pullen family made, and left out a bunch of odds and ends that were smaller. A wooden desk organizer, vintage bowls, etc.  Mickey was working today and the Edgewaters are over the bridge doing the same, so I told everyone that I’d be happy to pick up all of the winnings.  I love doing it and it makes me look like a big spender.  BUT...I forgot that our SUV is in the shop (that’s another story) and we have a rental.  A little sedan with a trunk just about the size of that doll cradle.  Matt said he’d come with me to help load up and I warned him that I might have to make three trips.  Those big wicker trunks, that enormous saw and case, the large plant, the cradle, the odds and ends...oh dear.  Luckily, I raised kids in the generation that played countless video games and Matt’s Tetris skills kicked in.  We filled every nook and cranny of that little car and got it all home.

It wasn’t purty but we got ‘er done. Now I’ve got to wrap this up and get dinner on the table.  I started a pork loin in the crockpot about 11am and I’ve got taters and green beans to roast. I’ll add a balsamic glaze to the pork loin and serve it all to these hungry boys.  Later I’ll sneak upstairs and wrap the last couple of gifts for the birthday boy and tomorrow we will celebrate him. Sounds like a recipe for a wonderful day. I hope you’ve got something on the calendar to look forward to - anticipation is half the fun.  If not, put something on the calendar - “treat myself to a facial” or “picnic in the park”.  Oh gosh, stretching out on a blanket with a good book after a picnic lunch sounds like something I need to schedule.  Choose something you’d enjoy and make it happen.  Life is short, might as well make it sweet. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well.

Nancy P.S. I typed this super fast, I’m sure I’ll look at it later and cringe over the typos. Have mercy.

[kiyomai]

Just thinking of haikyu! boys and their Instagram accounts!! Every single one of them would have different vibes to their accounts and it’s only right to go through them together.

BOKUTO uses the same account he made when he first downloaded the app. If you scroll far enough, you’ll see the first picture of a younger Bo with a wide smile and a thumbs up, don’t forget the corny caption reading ‘Welcome to my life!’ Timeskip!Bokuto would still post cringy things, but don’t think for one second that you won’t make special appearances on there. Remember that he’s a pro athlete, so he will have that blue check mark signifying he’s verified; if you’re not for social media presences he’ll respect that. He’ll try to bring you up only on special occasions, either by keeping it limited or just not showing your face (he’s respectful like that).

“Babe, come take pictures with me! Everyone’s dying to see you!”

“We’re only doing a few pictures, Kou!”

He loves livestreams so much! The first time he made a live, he had no idea how to use it. Oh my goodness he was so clueless. The comments were flooding in and the hearts were floating. He tried his hardest to answer everyone’s questions and that’s the reason for his struggle. He would try to scroll up and start from the beginning, but it obviously backfired on him. He would’ve struggled a lot more if it weren’t for your help. Telling him to just thank everyone for their kind words in general, and if he wanted to answer full on questions, to read them as quick as possible and do it. After getting the hang of it, Bokuto would make his livestreams frequent. Sharing with his lovely followers what he was up to and sneaking the phone towards you every once in a while.

“‘How is your relationship with Y/N so perfect.’ Babe, come here! The people wanna know how our relationship is so perfect!”

“Kou, don’t go telling your followers everything’s perfect when you haven’t taken out the trash like I asked you to!”

“I will talk to you guys tomorrow, I have some important things to do. But, this is how you maintain a perfect relationship. Okay, bye!”

IWAIZUMI has two Instagram accounts; a public and a private. His public is only used when he wants to share his moments with his team, the pictures that don’t make it to the official team Instagram page. His private is the same one he made when he was in high school. The earliest post you’ll find is a mirror picture of him in the gym, post-workout sweat covering his bare chest and somewhat toned legs. The captions are those lame gym quotes to ‘inspire’ motivation, but Iwaizumi didn’t realize that most people found them quite obnoxious. He’s always tempted to delete them, hating the way you and his friends always bring it up and poke fun.

“You’re not allowed to delete those pictures, Hajime! How else is Mattsun supposed to get inspiration for his upcoming Halloween costume?”

“You’re unbelievable. I’m deleting them as we speak!”

Having his own private account gives him room to be himself, so Iwaizumi always posts things that catch his eyes. He’s always posting nature and the trips he makes, not wanting those memories to go away. He’s the type of boyfriend to want to take pictures of the two of you kissing in a new area. Countless photos of different outfits, different settings, different locations, but always the same two lovers.

“L/N Y/N, you get your ass back over here and kiss me like you mean it. You know better!”

“We’ve done this five times already, Hajime! It’s not my fault you have grandpa hands and can’t stop shaking while taking the pictures!”

“That doesn’t excuse the lazy kiss!”

SAKUSA only has an Instagram account because of Komori, and he only continues to use it because of the teams pr manager. If it weren’t for them, Sakusa would not have social media. He hates that it’s public, but he also doesn’t want to make a private account, that’s just too much work. He knows it’s to make him more appealing to his fans, but Sakusa wishes he didn’t have to do it.

“All you have to do is smile and it’ll be over, Omi. You haven’t posted in a while and your manager only wants three little pictures.”

“Maybe if you ask me nicely, I’ll be more inclined to do it. Until then, you’re not getting any pictures of me.”

He hates how unauthentic Instagram feels, but you make it bearable for him. You seem to capture the realest moments, moments where he feels like Sakusa Kiyoomi. They range from volleyball to his personal life with you. He loves posting the videos where he’s the first to achieve a service ace, the story behind the competition always brings a smile to his face. And doing normal things with you helps add authenticity and realness that he never would’ve achieved if anyone else was in charge of his account

“Make sure you include the pictures we took at the store. You looked really nice in them.”

“That’s so cute, Omi. See, you can be so nice when you want to be.”

“Forget what I said, don’t post anything, you asshole.”

a/n: this is about as much as i can handle lmao school is kicking me in the booty. but i really loved writing this! if you liked these, don’t be afraid to request this for other characters; i’d love to make this a series :) likes/comments/reblogs are welcome and appreciated <3

[youngbeezer]

Do you Believe in Happily Ever After? | Joel Farabee

A/N: Hello again! I got such a great response to my first fic I posted which literally made me so happy, so thank you so much to anyone who gave me the time of their day to read my fic. Here is a new fic for mr. joel farabee!! This one is a little longer and I tried my best, feedback always appreciated, but I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Few curse words, overall just fluff

Word Count: 2160

Tagging a few people again so this doesn’t flop,,,

@ollywahlygator @joshsandersons @joelsfarabees @fratboyzegras @sorokns @butgilinsky @ricohenrique

I haven’t been to too many weddings in my life. I attended one for my uncle when I was around 10 years old but I don’t remember much from it. My mother also got remarried around 3 years ago, but up until this year, weddings weren’t a natural occurrence in my life. 

This past year though.. I’ve attended two weddings, got an invitation in the mail today for another one, a close friend of mine just recently got engaged (so that invitation will be coming sometime in the near future), and one of my best friends’ wedding is tomorrow. Now I feel like everywhere I look, I am surrounded by love. 

Now I’m not saying that is a bad thing, but when every one of your friends are either having kids, getting married, or in serious relationships, it starts to feel a little discouraging. Is there something wrong with me? Am I the reason why I’m still single?-- No, I refuse to think like that! I could get a boyfriend if I wanted to. Maybe my friends are right though… Maybe I’m not putting myself out there enough. 

Anyway, one of my best friends, Karly, is getting married to her long-time boyfriend Travis tomorrow. I’ve met Travis, or as everyone seems to call him ‘TK’, a handful of times and I know he plays for the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team-- which is cool I guess, but other than that I don’t know much about his personal life or who he hangs out with. 

Karly and I met running into each other at a cafe once. Yeah, yeah I know it sounds like one of those cliche romantic meetings, where two people bump into each other and immediately fall in love. I mean we did hit it off almost immediately and from there we became like two peas in a pod-- just not in the way you think. I’ve always wondered though, if maybe I ran into a handsome man at a coffee shop or walking down the street, would I be having my happily ever after right now?

I snap out of my thoughts when an incoming call from- speak of the devil, the bribe to be. Before I can even say my greetings, Karly jumps right into business;

“Ok! So since you weren’t able to come to the dress rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. I’ll give you the rundown on what you need to do.”

Oh yeah, did I mention that I am one of the bridesmaids? Sadly, I was not able to attend the functions before the wedding due to not being able to get time off from work. But, Karly was super cool with it, which brings us to the reason for this call.

“Ok so basically, your dress and everything is already in the bridal suite, so everything will be ready for you when you get here tomorrow. You’ll be walking down the aisle third with one of Travis’ buddies Joel-- he plays on the team with Trav and he’s such a sweet guy he’ll definitely help you out if you need anything.. You know now that I think about it you guys would be such a cute couple-”

“Uh Karly? I don’t think now's the time to play matchmaker, when we should be preparing for your big day tomorrow.” I cut her off. 

“Alright, alright. But I will be coming back to that thought. Ok so anyway--”

After that I kind of zone out from trying to keep up with whatever Karly is spitting at me right now. While still on the phone, I pull out my laptop and search for the name ‘Joel’ with ‘Philadelphia Flyers’ next to it in search of this man who is said to be walking me down the aisle. Right away the name ‘Joel Farabee’ pops up with a wikipedia and multiple photos. Hm this guy is kinda cute. Just as I go to click view more images, Karly’s words register back in my brain;

“Ok y/n, did you get that?”

“Hm.. oh yeah! Got it. What time should I be there tomorrow?” I ask, praying that she didn’t already mention that and realize I wasn’t paying attention. 

“8 AM sharp,” she responds all giddy. 

I suddenly remember that my best friend is actually getting married tomorrow. Feeling giddy as well I reply, “Sounds good. I am so happy for you Karly and I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look tomorrow!” 

Karly does a little shriek in response and reiterates her excitement as well. We then say our goodbyes and I wish her a great last night as an unmarried woman before hanging up. I got back to what I was working on before the call and all my jumbled thoughts entered my brain, totally forgetting about a certain someone named ‘Joel’ as I exited the browser. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning I arrive at 8:17 AM at the wedding venue and as soon as I exit the Uber, I start booking it to the bridal suite. When Karly says to be somewhere at 8 AM sharp, you be there at 8 AM sharp, and I’m not particularly fond of facing her wrath today, especially on her wedding day when stress levels are through the roof. 

There’s just one problem though… Since I wasn’t able to attend the rehearsal, I have no idea where I am going. 

Trying to recall the directions Karly told me on the phone last night (when I wasn’t paying attention), I take a sharp turn around a corner looking the opposite direction and suddenly collide with a dead end. Wait- no that’s not a dead end, it’s a person. 

Immediately going to spit out an apology, I stop dead in my tracks when I make eye contact with the handsome man I bumped into. 

“Oh shit! I am so sorry. Are you alright?” I see his lips moving, which are very nice to look at by the way, but my mind doesn’t register his words as I stare dumbfoundedly at this handsome stranger. Who, now that I think about it, looks a little familiar. 

When I still don’t answer, the familiar stranger clears his throat before giving me a once over of my whole body, which does little to bring me out of my trance. If anything I now start to feel my whole face flush from noticing him obviously checking me out. 

His face then seems to light up in recognition before asking, “Wait, are you y/n?”

When he notices my look of confusion on how he knows my name he continues, “I’m Joel, Joel Farabee.” Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, I notice a slight blush coating his cheeks before he adds, “We’re paired to walk down the aisle together… Um, also I think Karly is looking for you. She was kind of freaking out a little.”

With that last sentence my whole body comes back to life realizing that I am late and Karly is going to kill me. Hurriedly I exclaim “Oh my gosh! I am so late and I have no idea where the hell I’m going.” I frantically search around for any directions to point me to the bridal suite.

Joel kindly puts his hand on my shoulder, which immediately ignites a fire on the skin he is touching, before he reassures “Hey, you’re good. Just take your first right down this hall and then it will be at the end of the corridor, you can’t miss it. Seriously. She hung up streamers and balloons everywhere with a poster on the door that says ‘Bridal Suite. NO BOYS ALLOWED’.” 

Letting out a soft snort I gently thank Joel before rushing in the direction he pointed me to. Before turning right, I sneak a quick glance over my shoulder to find Joel already glancing my way. My heart does a little flutter when we make eye contact and he gives me a little lopsided grin before going on his way. 

What just happened… 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as I walk through the doors of the suite, I am immediately ambushed by the bride to be on why I was late, until she notices the deep blush covering my cheeks, which then prompts another ambush on what made me blush. 

I change the topic as quickly as I can and direct our attention on getting ready for the ceremony. Karly looks absolutely beautiful in her white gown and her hair all dolled up. She doesn’t even seem remotely nervous for today as well. Most weddings I have been to, the bride is always going batshit crazy making sure everything is perfect or worrying that her soon to be husband might back out. That just shows how happy and comfortable Karly and Travis are in their relationship. God, I wonder what it must feel like to have that kind of love that is so solid and healthy. Suddenly my mind starts drifting to what it would be like to have that type of relationship with Joel. 

Oh who am I kidding? I just met the guy. Sure, when his hand touched my shoulder my whole body felt like it was on fire. And yeah, maybe when he gave me that little lopsided grin it gave my entire stomach butterflies. Oh jeez. Today is gonna be a long day… 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ok now I feel like my whole body is going to explode. He is looking at me like I’m now the bride and he is the groom. And suddenly, I’m wishing that were the case. We are getting closer and closer to walking down the aisle together, and every step we take towards one another my stomach does a little flip. 

When we finally reach each other, he offers his arm for me to take as he speaks, “Wow… Uh yeah wow, you look gorgeous.”

Blushing, I respond with a quiet “Thank you.” 

“Guess I was the lucky one eh? In case I end up tripping and making a fool of myself, no one will even be paying attention because all eyes will be on you.” There’s that little lopsided grin of his again. 

“Well aren’t you a sweet talker.” I responded. 

He just gives me a subtle wink before we ascend through the doors and down the aisle where Travis is waiting for the big moment. He gives us both a little smirk before we part ways like he knows something we both don’t. 

…

Eventually Karly walks down the aisle looking like an absolute princess. The officiator says his whole ordeal, Karly and TK both say their vows to one another, there are lots of tears, and Joel and I can’t seem to keep our eyes off of each other. 

After the ceremony, we all head in the direction of the reception hall where the real fun begins. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding was spectacular, the way everyone expected it to be. Now as music filled the air with a giddy sort of elation, the newlyweds looking beautiful and so happy while dancing, friends and relatives chatting between one another about this and that; I can’t help but feel a little bittersweet about it. I want this. I want that giddy elation to be surrounded around me, I want to wear that beautiful white gown, I want the guy to be looking at me like I just hung the moon while we had our first dance. Where’s my happily ever after--

“You know you never properly introduced yourself?” 

Startled, I spun around to find the source. Joel. 

I give him a sweet smile before returning my gaze back to the happy couple and responding, “Y/n y/l/n.” 

He follows my gaze and lets out a little sigh before expressing “They’re perfect for each other, aren’t they?” 

“Yeah, they really are.” Before I can get another word in Joel blurts;

“Do you wanna dance? Like,” He stumbles a little with his words, “like with me?”

Letting out a soft giggle, I happily reply, “I would love to.” 

Seemingly relieved, Joel takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor as soon as a slow song comes on. He puts his hands respectively on my waist while I put mine around his neck inching him closer to my body. We dance with each other for a while, even after the song is over and a fast high tempo song blasts through the speakers. It’s like we are lost in each other, just savoring this ‘moment’ together. 

Eventually after the fourth song comes on and we are still dancing, Joel pulls away just a little to look me in the eye before softly whispering “Do you believe in happily ever afters?” 

Seeing that look in his eyes again, the one where it seems like he is looking at me like I just hung the moon? I answer in that same soft whisper, “Yeah… yeah I think I do.”

[1d-discourseoftheday]

Thurs 7 Jan ‘21

Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3 Z3!!! Firstly Zayn posted a teaser of a red curtain, labeled 'tomorrow', beginning to rise with a snippet of a song-- it's Vibez! Vibez is HERE! NEW ZAYN MUSIC! And hell yeah that's super exciting (and the curtain is reminiscent of the filming at the theater last month I'm hopeful we're about to get that video) but THAT'S not the half of it-- Z3 listings are UP! 'Nobody is Listening' (friend we are ABOUT TO BE and I CANNOT WAIT) is out Jan 15 and has 11 songs (titles unrevealed with the exception of Better, already released, and Vibez). The cover art is a painting of a bright colorful sea of staring faces; everybody looking, nobody listening? Spotify also has Vibez cover art- a cool blocky noir looking painting- and a new photo of Zayn smouldering in a tank top. Happy almost Zayn's birthday to US, and thank you very much!

Liam did a long live today with an also long BEARD (oh shush on his FACE you guys) to talk about Saturday's show, but then he ends up talking to Ben Winston for most of it which is, as you can imagine, a mixed blessing. I mean all that 1D reminiscing is great for dredging up unknown tidbits for us but otoh Ben: the part where Liam puts manager Steve on to say hi to Ben and it's just the two of them is the worst content I've seen in a minute and I mean... Holivia is current..? ANYWAY, before Ben, Liam has his cousin Ross on and tells us Ross will also have cousin Luke playing drums for him at the show Sat, and snippets of all the openers' music are played. They discuss accents, and Liam, as usual, says that he was just on the phone to Louis (relatable I too immediately think of Louis when discussing strong British accents). And then the Ben chat: they talk about the We Are 1D Family fan project at San Siro and how the band didn't know it was going to happen, Liam talks about not wanting to do the Leroy piece for the BSE video (“haha remember I had a meltdown but you made me do it!”:/), and they talk about the two Midnight Memories videos-- we learn that Ben didn't have anything to do with the scrapped first one so he can't release it sorry, and “you guys didn't like it so we had to make a new one in like a week”. Liam: “no I preferred the first one!”, lol. Ben talks shit about not liking You and I (no wonder he did her so dirty), Liam: “WHAT??” and “didn’t Zayn’s high note turn you on a little bit? It had to!” sksksjfa okay calm down there, and then he turns me into the 'had me in the first half' meme when he says his least favorite 1D song is I Would! CAN YOU BELIEVE. He quickly realizes though that no! He means I WANT! Yeah okay that makes more sense but jeez Liam, don't mess with me like that! He also says (not about I Would or I Want), “when I was younger I didn't really understand the songs as much as I understand them now, they mean so much more to me later on in life than they ever have done before, the feeling, the emotions that come through, the lyric as well for some of them.” Oh and Ben mentions the Grammy awards being pushed to March 14 which btw I forgot to say yesterday so there ya go. New date. And last but not least, new LP Act 4 merch! RAINBOW HOODIE! Omg it's so good! The rest is great too but that rainbow hoodie (uh 'hoody' that is hmm why) is soooo nice.

9 am PST came and went without a single Holivia pap pic, but don't worry (darlings) they were just a little late today, though you'll be excused if you didn't realize there were new ones, as they are simply more of the same batch as yesterday's- it was a very exciting parking lot after all, they needed a lot of documentation! Harry grabbing Olivia's arm SO AWKWARDLY is a gem though, I'm starting to have doubts that they're even really friends now that I'm seeing them interact so much tbh. I think the press time excitement was supposed to be the 'candid' pics of them drinking coffee together with Harry in the spa robe (taken... maybe you can guess... YES! it was over the weekend!) but aside from being memed they didn't seem to get much traction. Even so, the press is still all over Holivia ofc and if you only read one article about it PLEASE make it the Harper's Bazaar one that marveled at today's pics “Wilde happened to be wearing the same outfit from last weekend” oh SO CLOSE YOU GUYS, defensively states that Harry was wearing a mask (in response to the many articles out there about people being mad at him for not wearing a mask which yes are very much still up and not being suppressed by HSHQ, btw) but some enterprising layout person placed a picture of him without a mask right under that line, and tells us twice in a row that their relationship is 'very organic'-- definitely 100% truly oBvIOusLy ORGANIC, 'a source' says so. So you can see that clearly it's all very organic. In case you were wondering! STRONG honorable press mention for Vogue though, who declared that Holivia were “already 2021's most stylish pair” with a picture of Harry in his paint splattered merch hoodie and pushed up sweats; but then they also said the other day that larries were people “who ship Harry with Liam Payne”...hey Vogue I really recommend getting an intern if you're struggling, so helpful!

[yoontopia]

𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗷𝗷𝗸

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: detective au; fluff, a smidgen of angst, childhood friends to lovers

rating: 18+ (mentions of assault, domestic abuse and suicide; minor character death, serial killers are mentioned, minor mention of alcohol and weapons, most likely an inaccurate portrayal of policework)

word count: 7.7k

summary: when a case forces you to re-visit your hometown, you’re also forced to re-visit your past and one particular jeon jungkook, your childhood friend, and the man you’d fallen in love with -- while he’d been been engaged to someone else.

author’s note: whew this is me coming back to writing for the first time in a WHILE.  happy (belated) birthday jungkook! I’m sorry for being 8 days late T_T

The first thing you do when you get into work is make coffee. The lieutenant has recently invested in a rather pricey looking coffee machine after giving the entire team a loud and exasperated lecture about “leaving the precinct to take too many coffee breaks”. You can’t say that you complain about this new arrangement.

The second thing you do when you get into work is check the files on your desk. It is when you’re rifling through these, a mug of steaming black liquid next to you, that your partner slaps another folder on your desk.

“What is this?” you ask, looking up at his tired demeanour. Min Yoongi is an excellent detective, but talent and success come at a price. You don’t think the man has ever gotten a good night’s rest.

“A 16-year old girl found murdered by the piers in Busan,” Yoongi says, pulling the chair from the empty desk next to you and subsequently collapsing in it. “The fishermen found her early this morning.”

“Busan?” you ask, the name of your hometown heavy on your tongue. “What business does that have with the Seoul Major Crimes Unit?”

“It becomes our business when you see how she was killed.” Yoongi states, leaning forward and flipping open the file for you. You look down at the medical examiner’s report, light finally shedding on your situation.

“Legs and hands tied with plastic cable ties, throat slashed, face carved into a permanent mangled grin – its Him. The age and description of the girl match with his previous victims and Busan PD asked us to come down since we’re handling The Joker’s case.”

“Don’t call him that,” you snap. “What did I tell you about enabling him?” Yoongi shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

You stare back down at the photos of the crime scene, your brain trying to piece together the information. This particular serial killer – nicknamed The Joker by the general public for the way he dismembered his victims’ faces – had been at large for a couple years now and had murdered five young girls. Well, you muse, the count is up to six now.

“He’s never struck outside Seoul before,” you murmur. In your periphery, Yoongi nods, taking a sip out of his own coffee. “This is so out of his way. Are we sure its not a copycat?”

“I considered that,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “The lead detectives in charge of this case want us to check it out and see if we can figure out of it’s the real deal. If it is The Joker, the case is ours anyway.”

“I know some cops in Busan,” you say, closing the file. You had grown up there and worked there before transferring. “Who’s in charge?” Yoongi stares at you before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slip of paper with names scribbled on it.

“Let’s see—the man who called this morning – a Kim Taehyung – do you know him?” You blink.

“Yeah, we-we went to college together,” you say, your voice suddenly hushed.

“Aw that’s cute, a little reunion,” Yoongi grins but then studies your expression. “Is it not a happy occasion?”

“No no,” you laugh weakly. “Taehyung is fine – great actually! He’s good at what he does too. I’m grateful he’s in charge of this one.”

“Great, we leave tomorrow first thing,” Yoongi says, electing to ignore your high voice and nervousness. “I got us KTX tickets for the first train out.”

You nod, swallowing. Kim Taehyung isn’t the problem, it’s who he’s partners with that has your stomach in knots.

Your train pulls into Busan at a very early hour that even coffee can’t fix. You heave your duffel bag over your shoulder and wait for Yoongi to grab his before stepping off onto the platform. Yawning, you look around.

The dawn has left behind a slight fog around the city and the morning October air has a slight chill in it. You haven’t been back in Busan since the day you left, some two years ago. Your parents had moved to Seoul recently, taking with them the only reason you’d ever have to visit this seaside city.

Yoongi hops off the train next to you and looks around. He’s a Daegu native, but knows this city like the back of his hand.

“I booked us a hotel near the crime scene,” is the first thing he says.

“That’s not morbid at all,” you chuckle, and he rolls his eyes. “But first I’m guessing we head straight to the precinct?” Yoongi nods and the two of you opt to share a cab instead of taking the public transport.

Before you know it, you’re getting off at the police department. Two officers at the entrance have been alerted of your arrival and show you the way. Yoongi shoots you a surprised look, but you grin back. Busan has always been known for its friendly and amicable citizens.

When you enter what is obviously the homicide department, Taehyung is the first person you see. He shouts your name from across the room, turning several heads, and bounces towards you like a golden retriever reunited with its long-lost owner.

“That is Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi asks and you’re not sure if he’s impressed or disappointed.

“Its so good to see you!” he says, a boxy grin painting his face. You take him in. Taehyung hasn’t changed much since college, but the dyed blonde hair he used to sport when he was younger has now been swapped for his natural black curls, which bounce every time he walks. “And you must be Detective Min, we spoke on the phone”

“Ah—yes,” Yoongi utters, thoroughly thrown off. You hide a smile.

“Come in, come in! Ah you can leave your bags by my desk for now.” The two of you do as you’re told, and Taehyung then leads you to a small conference room which holds a projector screen, a small round table, and a few chairs.

“I assume you’ve read the case file?” he asks and when you nod, he continues. “We haven’t had anything quite like this before – at least not during my career. I realize the two of you are the leads on The Joker right now, so any help you’re willing to provide is appreciated really.”

“Any new developments?” you ask, pulling out the file from your backpack. Taehyung hums before sitting down across from you.

“The toxicology report came back right as you arrived, I got a text from my partner,” Taehyung says, and you try to keep a straight face. “He’s over there right now he should be here soon, by the way,” You’re thankful that he doesn’t dwell on the topic for too long, most likely out of respect for you. “They found morphine in her system, so we’re inclined to believe that she was drugged before being tied up and killed. Your raise your eyebrows at this piece of information.

“The Joker doesn’t drug his victims.” You state. “They’re all very much awake when he ties them up and slashes their throats. The carved smile is always scratched in post-mortem.”

“Well there are inconsistencies then,” Taehyung says, running a hand through his hair. “All the wounds here were caused after he actually killed her – and that includes… whatever he did to her face.”

“So, we’re looking at a copycat.” You state.

“Or he’s changed his MO.” Yoongi adds.

“He hasn’t changed it for his first five victims what was special about this one that he had to drug her to knock her out first? No, this sounds like someone plotting murder and covering it up. Either way let’s explore all avenues.” You say.

“I agree,” comes a voice from behind you and you almost jump out of your seat. You turn to see the very person you’d been dreading running into since stepping foot on the platform this morning. Jeon Jungkook walks in, two cups in his hands, setting one down in front of Taehyung. He leans over to shake hands with Yoongi, giving you a mere side-glance. He sits down across from the two of you and takes a sip of his drink. Distractedly, you wonder if its coffee – as far as you know he was never a big fan.

The again, you muse, you’re not sure you really know him anymore.

There’s an awkward sort of silence and Yoongi’s body language tells you he’s noticed something’s off. Taehyung clears his throat.

“I’m assuming the two of you will want to check the crime scene out?”

“And the body.” You add. Taehyung nods and stands up.

“Do you want to split up or do both together?” You look at Yoongi.

“Together,” the two of you say at the same time. Yoongi’s smiling. You smile back.

Getting into the back of Taehyung’s sleek black SUV, you watch Yoongi jump in from the other side, dark hair slightly tousled from trying to get some sleep on the train. He’d been your partner for the entirety of your career with the Seoul PD. The two of you had started as rookie cops and had spent the first few months catching small-time criminals. Yoongi was easy to work with, and you’d found a fast friend in him, being alone in a big, unfamiliar city. You closed cases like no one else and before you knew it, the two of you were promoted to Major Crimes as detectives. The Joker was one of your first cases and it was a real thorn in your side that you hadn’t managed to catch the bastard yet.

Jungkook gets in the passenger seat next to Taehyung. He hasn’t so much as addressed you yet, except for agreeing with your previous statement. You had expected as much. He’s still sipping on his drink. Taehyung is talking to one of the officers by the main gate and you take this time to really take in Jungkook’s appearance.

He hasn’t changed – gotten broader maybe. His hair is slightly longer, falling into his eyes. His ears are still pierced in multiple places, although right now he’s only wearing simple rings in both ears. He’s wearing a dark sweatshirt, which you recognize is from the Busan Police Academy as you own the same one. His right hand is littered with tattoos you can’t make out, and they disappear into his arm. That is new and you wonder when he got them done. Unable to help yourself, your eyes travel to his left hand, his ring finger. You’re surprised to find it empty. The last time you saw him, there was definitely a ring there. It was the last time you were in Busan. You haven’t returned since.

“Did Namjoon text you?” Yoongi’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. You look at your partner distractedly. “He said he was going to.”

“Oh, I haven’t checked.” You mutter, before pulling out your phone from the back pocket of your jeans. There is an unread message, surely enough from your co-worker.

“Yeah he says Holly’s fine,” You tell Yoongi, scrolling through the message. “He was a little shy last night but seems to have taken a liking to Joon.” Yoongi heaves a sigh of relief. Yoongi was also your roommate back home, and his dog meant more to him more than anything else. You secretly were also extremely fond of the little brown poodle. “He says he’ll send pictures later.” Yoongi scoffs at that.

“He better, I do not trust that man with our dog.” Yoongi says and you smile at his wording. Holly was definitely Yoongi’s dog, you had just moved into his apartment when he was in need of a roommate to help cover the rent. It was so easy to be platonically domestic with Min Yoongi.

“Why didn’t you just leave him with your brother?” you ask, putting your phone away, looking out through the window to see if Taehyung is done.

“Geumjae’s in Daegu for my Mom’s birthday.” you turn to Yoongi in surprise.

“It’s your Mom’s birthday and you’re here?” you ask in surprise. Yoongi shrugs. “Maybe we should stop in Daegu on the way back.”

“I considered it,” he says. “If we have time.”

“I’d like to meet her.” You say warmly.

Jungkook clears his throat and you look at him, having forgotten he’s in the car too. He’s about to say something when Taehyung opens the door and gets in on the driver’s side.

“Sorry,” he says. “We have another ongoing case.”

“It’s not a problem,” Yoongi says. “You could’ve just left us to go do all this by ourselves.”

“No this case takes precedent for us too,” Taehyung says, starting up the car. “Plus, we’re here to help you if you ever need anything.”

The rest of the drive is silent, but its an almost-comfortable type of silence. You look out the window, taking in the familiar streets from your younger years. Nothing really has changed but then again, two years isn’t a long time at all. Or maybe it is. You’re not sure anymore.

“You say she was found near Haeundae?”

“Near the Haeundae market, yes.” Jungkook answers, surprising you. “She hadn’t been in the water and no water was found in her lungs, so she wasn’t drowned. No blood or signs of struggle in the surrounding area meaning she was killed elsewhere and brought to the market. We aren’t sure why this particular location was chosen--”

“The killer wanted her to be found,” you say, your voice soft, cutting him off. “The markets open before anything else. Everyone who lives here knows that.” Jungkook turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since he’d walked into the conference room.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think so too.”

“ID?” Yoongi asks, and either he’s pretending not to feel the tension in the car, or he doesn’t notice it. Knowing Yoongi, it’s probably the former.

“16-year-old Park Sohee,” Jungkook says, turning back to look at the little black notebook he has open. “Attended high school in Haeundae, grew up in the area too.”

“Have you spoken to the parents?” You ask.

“Yesterday,” he replies. “She was on the swim and dive team at school. Had excellent grades and many friends. A popular kid. Parents say she had no enemies, and no boyfriend, and wasn’t involved in anything ‘bad’.”

“Yeah well a parent is always going to say that,” you muse. “Have you spoken with her school? Friends? Swim coach?”

“Not yet. We waited for you.” You nod at that.

“I’d like to see the body after this if that’s okay. Yoongi can go talk to the school.” Yoongi nods beside you.

“Sure, one of us can go with you and the other can go with Detective Min.” Taehyung says, pulling up near the fish markets. You step out of the car, the smell of fish immediately overpowering you. You wrinkle your nose and look around. The market is exactly the same as you remember it. The familiar stalls selling everything from fresh produce to seafood to small trinkets and jewelry. It isn’t too busy right now considering it’s a weekday, which means you can look around easily.

“Nostalgic?” Jungkook asks stepping in beside you. You smile slightly.

“Only a little,” you answer him. “We used to come here a lot.”

“I still do to be honest,” he jokes. “The naengmyeon here is unrivalled.”

“Still?” you ask surprised, and he nods.

“Have some while you’re here,” he says, tossing his now empty cup in the nearby trashcan. “I know you like it.” He’s looking at you once again looking like he wants to say something. You understand, there are so many words left unsaid between you after all. You’re not sure you want to open that door though. Jungkook has always worn his heart on his sleeve.

“Over here,” Taehyung motions from some distance away and the two of you make your way to him. Yoongi is already standing there and he hands you a pair of gloves. Pulling them on, you lift the yellow police tape to make your way to the scene.

“They found her in front of this stall, on her back.”

“On display,” you say, kneeling near the chalk outline of the body. “Killer wanted us to see her face and neck.” You looked up at Jungkook and Taehyung, who were looking at you in confusion.

“It’s another inconsistency,” you say, standing up. “The Joker’s victims are all found face down. This guy totally didn’t do his research considering he was trying to be a copycat.”

“He wanted us to see the slashed throat,” Yoongi says. “He’s an amateur at this.” You nod.

“The cause of death was the morphine, I’m guessing. The wounds were all inflicted post-mortem”

“She had no other inflictions,” Jungkook says. “You can look at the tox screen when we go see the body and talk to the M.E. too.”

“Who found her?”

“A couple fishermen,” Taehyung reads off his notes. “Time of death is approximately 3-4 AM and both their alibis check out, they were out on the docks ready to head out.”

“I say we tell the press we’re convinced it’s the Joker,” you say, taking off your gloves and pocketing them.

“I agree,” pipes up Jungkook.

“Detective Min, if you can come with me to go talk to the family,” Taehyung says to Yoongi and then turns to you. “Go with Jungkook to see the body,” he says. You nod hesitantly, half-hoping it would’ve been the other way around. “We’ll drop you off on our way.”

Before you know it, you’re standing next to Jungkook outside the medical examiner’s office. Jungkook pushes the door open, letting you go through first.

“Hey Jin, I’m back,” he says and you hear a crash and a man appears from behind some shelves. He’s wearing a lab coat, dark hair disheveled. He looks at you.

“Oh, the detective from Seoul I’m guessing!” he says, his voice oddly melodious. “Kim Seokjin, MD.” You shake his hand, grinning and introducing yourself. You already like him.

“She wants to take a look at the body.”

“Of course, of course,” Seokjin says rushing around to the many shelves in the wall, popping one open and pulling out the body of Park Sohee.

You and Jungkook make your way towards it. You peer down at the young girl.

“The morphine is likely what killed her,” Seokjin says, watching you.

“She has bruises,” you say softly, staring at her abdomen. “Post-mortem?”

“No.” Seokjin replies. “She got those when she was alive. The coloring indicates they’re old.”

“Swimming and diving aren’t high contact sports,” you say. “Where did she get these bruises on her arms and chest?”

“You thinking domestic abuse?” Jungkook asks from behind you

“The parents said she didn’t have a partner. How did the parents seem?”

���Upset,” Jungkook starts, then stops. “You think the parents did this?”

“Just considering all options. Her team coach is also a possibility. I won’t know until we’ve checked all of them.” You look down at her again. “A pretty girl.” You say. “Can I have copies of the tox screen?”

“Sure,” Seokjin replies, walking over to his desk to print out a copy. “There isn’t much other than the morphine. An overwhelming amount.”

“Where would they get access to so much morphine?”

“No idea,” he says walking over and handing you the toxicology report, which you subsequently put in your bag. “But it was way over the lethal amount. The killer isn’t an expert on dosage. My guess? Someone who has no idea how killing works.”

You and Jungkook walk out of the building. The afternoon sun is peaking out, making you shed your jacket.

“You hungry?” he asks, and you realize you are. All you’ve had since arriving in Busan is coffee. “There’s a galbi place around here.”

He leads you around the corner into a small restaurant and you enter behind him.

“Jungkookie!” comes an excited voice and you see an elderly woman wearing a flowery apron making her way towards you. “It’s been a while!”

Jungkook grins at the woman and greets her politely and she ushers you over to a small table by the window facing the busy street. Handing you a menu, she smiles kindly at you.

“You’re a regular?” you ask.

“I used to be. It’s been a while honestly.”

You scan the menu, your mouth immediately watering.

“The dak-galbi here is unreal,” he tells you and you pretend to throw the menu away.

“Well how dare I eat anything else then!” Jungkook laughs, high and melodic. Its been a while since you’ve heard that laugh. “Let us split the dak-galbi. I also want rice.”

Jungkook gets up and walks over to the counter himself to give your order. You watch him, a small smile on your face. He collapses back in his seat, bringing over two glasses of water.

“So,” he says.

“What’s with the tattoos.” You blurt out, eyeing his hand. He stares down at it too.

“Wanted a change, I guess,” he says slowly. “Life was getting pretty dull around here.”

“So, you got inked,” you say grinning. He grins back.

“I’m happy this isn’t awkward,” he says after a while and you freeze. “I’m glad we can sit and talk like this still.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Me too.”

“About back then—” he starts, and you sigh. You want desperately to avoid this conversation but Jungkook, ever the straight arrow, has never liked underlying tension, and prefers everything laid out on the table in front of him. “I’m sorry for everything.”

“Don’t apologize for your feelings,” you tell him, but he shakes his head vigorously.

“No, I am sorry,” his tone is firm. “I ruined our friendship, made everything weird and drove you away. I know I’m the reason you’ve avoided this place until now and even now you’re only here because you have to be—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt gently, and he halts mid-rant, his doe-like eyes wide. “Stop talking. I’m the one who’s sorry. I acted immature and it was me who ruined everything, not you. I didn’t come back because-because it hurt at first and then I didn’t come back because I thought you’d be happier without having to deal with me.”

“How could you think that?” He’s gripping the table, knuckles white. It makes the ink on his hand stand out even more. You see a sketch of a small rose, about an inch tall, right below his index finger, and bite your lip. “You were my best friend.”

“It’s different now,” you assure him, still staring at the rose. It’s staring back at you, a silent taunt. It brings up repressed memories you rather not face. “Things are different. I’m happy—in Seoul. Please don’t blame yourself for everything that happened. I wasn’t angry to see you, I was just worried you wouldn’t want to see me. I’m happy now and I’ve moved on from all that.”

“With Yoongi.” Jungkook says, and you’re not sure why he sounds so bitter.

“With Yoongi, yes,” you say. Yoongi’s your work partner and a steady shoulder when you need one. He’s your roommate and best friend. Seoul is lonely and even after two years of living there, he’s one of your only friends. But as soon as you say it, something in Jungkook’s expression shifts, like a door slamming shut. He sits back. “He’s the best partner anyone can ask for, and a damn good detective.”

Jungkook nods once, jaw clenched. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, your food arrives and you’re too hungry to think of much else.

After that, the two of you only make polite small talk. There’s no tension but you can’t help but feel like the wall that was crumbling has somehow repaired itself. Jungkook’s phone rings as he’s finishing his rice.

“Tae, hey,” he says, phone in his left hand as he eats with his right. You distractedly wonder why he doesn’t wear his ring anymore. “Okay sounds good. No, we can just walk to the station its only a couple blocks. Yeah man see you there.”

“They done talking to the school?”

“Yeah they’ll fill us in when we get there.”

“So, what’s the deal?” Yoongi asks, his lithe body curled up on the hotel armchair in your room. His room is next door, but the two of you had ordered room service for dinner. Empty bowls of jajangmyeon lie littered on the small side table next to him.

“The deal with what?”

“Detective Jeon,” You turn to Yoongi and fix him with a stare. Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “He doesn’t seem to like me very much.”

“Nonsense,” you reply.

“You two have a history? It got seriously weird at times today.”

“No history—it’s the same as Taehyung, we attended the police academy together. Taehyung was a couple years ahead of us though.”

“And?”

“And I’ve also attended middle school and high school with Jungkook. He was my neighbour growing up.”

“Ah childhood friends,” Yoongi hums. “But what went wrong?”

“What makes you think something went wrong?”

“Because you left behind a perfectly good life here when you moved to Seoul? Because you never talk about these people? Before today I didn’t even know of them. And also, because you were absolutely dreading coming here.” You sigh, hating Yoongi’s astute personality.

“Jungkook found out how I felt,” You say quietly. “About him.”

“Oh.”

“While he had a girlfriend.”

“…Oh.”

“Who he was engaged to.”

“What the fuck,” Yoongi’s tone makes you giggle, relieving the pain a little.

“Obviously, he never felt the same way, but then things got so weird. It was like we could never go back to what was. Jungkook skirted around me, his girlfriend hated my guts, I had to avoid our whole friend-group because all of his friends were my friends. It felt claustrophobic.”

“So, you left.”

“Not exactly,” you say. “I wasn’t actively looking to run away, but when the option to move was presented to me, I hesitated way less than I originally would have.”

“And are you still in love with him?” Yoongi asks, voice casual.

“I don’t know,” you reply, thinking of the small rose tattooed on Jungkook’s hand. It’s easier to deny. “It’s been two years and as far as I know he could be married by now.”

“I didn’t see a ring,” Yoongi answers, like the detective he is. “And that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say. “He was head over heels for Jangmi.”

“What a delicate name,” Yoongi muses.

“She was the delicate kind,” you agree. “Kind, pretty, gentle – just like her name—like a rose.”

“Every rose has its thorns though,” Yoongi says wisely. “He cares about you, you know.”

“Who?”

“Detective Jeon. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You’re such a romantic at heart Min,” You tease. Yoongi only smiles softly in return. “It doesn’t matter. Jungkook’s life is here and mine is in Seoul. After we wrap this case up, I probably won’t see him again. I’m happy with my life right now.”

“Maybe if you tell yourself that enough times, it’ll one day become the truth.”

“Anyway, go over what you saw with the victim’s school again.” You sit on your bed cross-legged, your go-to posture when you’re trying to focus.

“Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary. Her swim coach is a well-respected man. Usually men in power take advantage of multiple people under them but none of the other girls in the team seemed out of sorts to me. Her teachers all spoke highly of her—she really did have excellent grades. It seemed she was friendly with everyone in her class and on her team. I’ve hit a block.”

“That’s frustrating.”

“The bruises you mentioned are bothering me,” Yoongi adds. “They don’t seem to have an explanation and the parents seemed surprised when we asked them about it.”

“Alibis for the parents?”

“Asleep at home,” he hums. “No way for us to check that. Sohee was on her way back from swim practice and when she didn’t show up at home at the regular time by 10pm her mother started worrying. They claimed they would call the police the next day, but of course it was too late.”

“They didn’t think their daughter not showing up at home was a cause for panic?” You ask. “It’s weird to me. She wasn’t the rebellious type, so this must not have been normal behaviour.”

“You’re set on the parents, aren’t you?” Yoongi grins, stretching his legs out.

“It’s just this feeling, I don’t even have an explanation for it.”

“A hunch.”

“Yes but no proof,” You grit your teeth in frustration.

It rains on your second day in Busan. You roll out of bed to the sound of the tell-tale pitter patter and groan. Getting ready and putting on the jeans from yesterday along with a black dress shirt, you hop around trying to tuck it into the waistband. There’s a knock on your door and you open it to greet Jungkook.

“Oh—hey,” he is not who you expected to be at your door so early in the morning.

“Your partner left your hotel info with Tae.” He says, curious eyes peering around your hotel room. You quirk a small smile and let him in. He sits down on the chair Yoongi was occupying last night.

“So, what’s up?”

“We found a suspiciously large amount of money in a savings account under Park Sohee’s name,” Jungkook is still looking around your room curiously and you don’t know why.

“Suspicious?”

“She was sixteen,” he says. “What’s a 16 year old doing with fifty million won?” Your eyes widen at the amount.

“Do her parents know?”

“We’re going down to see them now that’s why I’m here.” Jungkook stands up. “Where’s Min?”

“In his room probably. He’s not a morning person.” Jungkook blinks down at you.

“You two aren’t sharing a room?”

“Huh?” You pause mid-way of packing your backpack for the day. “Why would we?”

“Because… you’re together—wait what,” Jungkook looks so confused you almost find it adorable.

“What the fuck Jeon, we’re not together – not like that.” You say.

“B-but yesterday you said you’d moved on with him—”

“Yes, as partners – you know? The thing we do for work.” You’re trying not to laugh.

“B-but you own a dog together and live together.”

“We’re cops, Jeon, not billionaires. Rent in Seoul is atrocious, he’s my roommate. Also, Holly is Yoongi’s dog, not mine.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook hides his face behind his hands and sits back down. You’re laughing. “I’m sorry for assuming.”

“You know—you should ask Yoongi how Jung Hoseok is doing.” You say, grinning.

“Who?” Jungkook looks up.

“His boyfriend,” you’re trying hard not to burst back into giggles. “Lives in Gwangju on a temporary assignment. The guy whose room I’m technically renting out. They were roommates before getting together. When he had to move out for work, Yoongi needed someone to help cover the rent.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans, hiding behind his hands again. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you say laughing. “Easy mistake to make… I think?” Jungkook is looking at you from in-between his fingers.

“So then, are you seeing anyone?” His direct tone throws you off. You turn to fully look at him, but a knock on the door interrupts you both.

It’s Yoongi, and he doesn’t look surprised to see Jungkook in your room.

“Taehyung texted me,” he says. “Detective Jeon,” he adds in greeting.

“Please,” Jungkook smiles, “call me Jungkook.” Yoongi raises both his eyebrows and looks at you in question and you’re trying to fight laughter once again.

The ride to the victim’s parents’ house is quiet. Taehyung drives and you spend the time pondering over Jungkook’s words from earlier. He’d been angry yesterday because he’d assumed you and Yoongi were together. You frown to yourself because nothing makes sense. Had he fallen out with Jangmi? But it’s not like Jungkook had ever thought about you as anything other than a friend. You remember his words from back then, loud and clear, and they come back to you now.

“I’m sorry.”

You remember his apologetic eyes, the glint of his wedding band; he had looked like a child who’d been told off. You hate that look, the pity staring down at you. But most of all you hate the fact that you’d been rejected before you’d even had a chance to explain. A mutual friend had let the cat out of the bag at a party, and Jungkook being Jungkook had confronted you right away. None of it had been on your own terms.

You’d brushed it off as a small crush, defence mechanisms kicking in, but things had never been the same afterwards. Jungkook had always been good at seeing right through you and he could tell you’d been lying about the depth of your feelings.

You clench your fist. Moving to Seoul had meant burying all this behind you, pretending none of it had happened, forgetting about Jungkook and how madly in love you’d been with him. You’d always been good at compartmentalizing, it’s what made you a good cop. You’d ignored everything for two years. Until now.

Yoongi calls your name, breaking you out of your reverie. You’re at Park Sohee’s home, but you can see from your seat in the car that the main door is ajar. Jungkook is already tossing you a vest which you hastily put on. He pulls out his gun and exits out the car. The three of you follow suit.

“Stand guard at the back, we’ll clear the house.” Taehyung tells you and you and Yoongi nod. The two of you position yourself near the backdoor. After about 10 minutes you hear Jungkook shout. The backdoor opens, and his head peeks out.

“Father missing, but we found his wife,” at your expression, he continues, “Dead, in the bathtub. Overdosed, it seems, in an apparent suicide. She left a note.” He holds up a piece of paper.

“Her husband, a nasty man, is our guy.”  

“Where is he?”

“Taehyung is putting a trace on his credit cards and cellphone as we speak.”

You’re reading the note, disgust piling up inside you. Sohee’s father had been an abusive man, and she was planning on running away and going to the police. She sold some of her clothes and other belongs to earn money through the years. The mother, an abused woman herself was complicit in the crime but had been unable to handle the guilt.

“This man killed his daughter and is directly responsible for another woman’s death. We better find him.”

At that moment, Taehyung appears at the door.

“Got him, let’s go.”

“When we said he was amateur at this, I didn’t mean this amateur.” You say, staring at the balding man through the one-sided mirror.

“He panicked when his daughter threatened to go to the police and killed her in a fit of rage. Then he tried to cover it up.”

“Only a psychopath tries to copy other psychopaths.” Yoongi says behind you. Jungkook is in the interrogation room, dark jeans and a dark t-shirt on, looking like he’s going to strangle the living daylights out of Park Sohee’s killer. His arms are bare for the first time since you’ve been back, and you can see the black ink swirling all the way up and disappearing into his sleeve. They’re all little designs, instead of a cohesive piece, as though he got them done separately.

“When are you guys heading out?” Taehyung asks. “We should at least grab a drink before you go.”

“We managed to get in on a train this evening,” Yoongi says apologetically. “Duty calls back home.”

“We’re still going to stop in Daegu for the night to wish Yoongi’s mother a happy birthday.” You tell Taehyung. “Early morning tomorrow, we head back to Seoul.”

“That’s too bad,” Taehyung nudges you playfully. “We barely had time to catch up.” You smile slightly, still staring at Jungkook, who’s coaxing a confession out of the man. You can’t deny that you want to leave Busan as soon as possible, but somewhere deep inside your heart breaks.

Park Sohee’s father confesses not too shortly after that and the case is officially closed. Taehyung suggests a late lunch at a nearby restaurant as a final get-together before you and Yoongi have to leave in the evening. Jungkook doesn’t say much throughout the meal, only offering a distracted smile every now and then.

When the four of you are heading out Jungkook grabs your wrist.

“Can we talk?” he asks and you look over at Yoongi who gives you a small smile.

“I’ll meet you at the train station tonight then,” is all he says before pulling Taehyung away towards his car. Jungkook is still looking at you.

“Walk with me,” he says, and you do, falling into step beside him. “I think we need to clear up some misunderstandings.”

“Misunderstandings?”

“I broke up with Jangmi,” he starts and you’re genuinely surprised to hear that. “Actually—she broke up with me. It’s been over a year since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say carefully, hating yourself for the selfish happiness that blooms inside you. “What happened?”

“She left me for someone else,” Jungkook says, smiling lightly. He doesn’t look hurt. “Someone who can love her way more than I ever could.”

“That’s so not true,” you argue back. “You loved her.”

“I did,” he agrees, and you try not to wince. It’s harder to hear it than say it. “To an extent. When she left, I didn’t cry. In fact, I was barely upset, and I hated myself even more for that. But then Jangmi pointed something out that made me see things very clearly.”

“What was that?” you whisper. The two of you are standing beside Nakdong river now, cyclists and runners passing by you in the blink of an eye. The air smells fresh and cold, the rain having left behind a chill and bright blue sky.

“She pointed out that I was more upset when you moved away than I was when she told me there was someone else for her.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

“Oh.” Is all you say.

“When I apologized yesterday, for ruining everything, I meant that I was sorry that I was so confused. My confusion and indecisiveness ruined everything. When everything became clear to me, you were already gone.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?” you ask, your voice still hushed.

“I tried,” he is being earnest now. “Your parents had already moved to Seoul, and I contacted Kim Jooyoung from school to see if she knew of your contact information, she was your best friend in college after all. All she had was a cellphone and a landline phone number, but it was worth a shot. When I called, your old roommate picked up and said you’d moved in with some guy. When I tried your cellphone, it was dead.”

“Oh I-I changed my number,” you say, your voice shaky. “I don’t even remember why now—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jungkook’s voice is urgent. “Before today I’d made peace with the fact that you were the one that got away. I could look you up using my connections but until today I was under the assumption you’d moved on. But you’re here now, by some miracle, if I can even call it that given the circumstances, but to me its too big of a coincidence to just pass up.”

You watch him quietly. He’s slightly out of breath and the wind ruffles through his dark hair.

“You never got to answer my question from earlier,” he says. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“N-no I’m not but—” You never get to finish your sentence because Jungkook is leaning in and crushing his lips to yours. His hands come up to rest on your shoulders, then your neck and then your cheeks, which he grazes with his thumbs. Once you get over your initial shock, you reach up to tentatively grasp his t-shirt on both sides. He tastes like the hot chocolate he had with his lunch. You feel his tongue tentatively swiping at you and you open yourself up to him. Immediately, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

After what feels like both, and eternity and a few short seconds, he pulls away. His lips are glistening and swollen and he’s out of breath.

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, hands still cupping your cheeks. “Stay here.” Slowly, you pull away, resting a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

“You’re asking a lot of me,” you start. “My entire life is in Seoul, Jungkook, I can’t just up and leave—”

“You just up and left Busan,” he says, and you freeze. Studying your sudden shift in expression, he hastily corrects himself, “I didn’t mean it like that. That came out wrong.”

“Jungkook,” you say, hoping you sound more patient than you feel. “Things are different now; I’m almost settled down in Seoul. I love Busan, I do, but I have no intention of moving back here. My family lives in Seoul now too and my lease with Yoongi isn’t even up, and I love my job, I wouldn’t dream to leave it.” Jungkook abruptly pulls away. “And I won’t ask you to leave Busan, I know how much you love it here.”

“Then what now,” he asks, a small smile on his face. “That’s it? You leave tonight and I never hear from you again?”

“I never said that,” you say softly. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“Dramatic is my middle name,” he mumbles, and you giggle.  “Do you at least feel the same way?”

“Of course, I do,” you say. “Otherwise I’d have pushed you into the river by now for your advances. Give me some time to think things through alright?”

“But—”

“We have a case back home that needs us, I really do have to go back today. Yoongi’s visiting his family tonight and I’ve made him a promise to come along and they’re expecting me. I won’t go back on that.”

Jungkook is now silent, staring wordlessly at you.

“Do you trust me?” you ask.

“Yes.” He answers. There’s no hesitation in his voice. You smile.

Six Months Later

“Are you sure?” Yoongi asks. The party is in full swing, loud music almost drowning out his voice. He’s holding a cup of clear liquid in his hands and you doubt it’s water.

“Yeah it’s not a problem, I can watch Holly for the weekend.”

“I’ll drop him off on Friday then,”

“That’s fine! You and Hobi deserve the weekend away.”

“But it’s not a hassle for you? It’s your weekend off too,”

“Yoongi I’m not going to try and convince you to let me take care of your dog in the middle of Hoseok’s welcome-back-bash.”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Hoseok slithers in next to you, tossing an arm around your neck.

“Yoongi’s worried about his dog,” you roll your eyes. “This has never happened before.”

“I’m not worried,” Yoongi seethes, making you and Hoseok laugh. “I just don’t want my dog being neglected because you and Jeon are copulating like rabbits all weekend.” Blood rushes to your ears and you grit your teeth.

“Jungkook’s going to be too busy this weekend for that, I promise you.”

“Oh yeah, has he found an apartment yet?” Hoseok asks conversationally.

“Yeah, he’s signing the lease on Friday, and then moving here over the weekend.”

“And he starts work on Monday?” You nod.

“The Organized Crime boys are gonna love him,” Yoongi grins. “Man will fit right in. Where is he anyway? I haven’t seen him since you two arrived.”

“Right here Min,” Jungkook pops out of nowhere, a wide grin plastered on his face. You roll your eyes. “What’s up?”

“Yoongi thinks we aren’t responsible enough to take care of his precious dog.”

“I believe the phrase he used was, ‘copulating like rabbits’” Hoseok chimes in unhelpfully. You elbow him in the stomach. Jungkook eyes you, grin fading a little and you recognize the dangerous spark in his eyes.

“Well he’s not wrong—” he starts, but is met by loud interruptions from you, Yoongi and Hoseok.

“Too much information!” Yoongi yells, downing his drink. “You two are disgusting! Lets go Hobi.”

Jungkook comes up to you, still grinning slyly and you automatically slip your arm around his waist.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” you ask, looking up at him. Jungkook has an arm around your shoulder as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Bit too late to ask me that, don’t you think babe?” You pinch his waist and he yells out loud. “I didn’t move to Seoul for you, I moved here for the job.”

“Ha. Ha,” you roll your eyes, but a part of you knows it’s partially true anyway. Long distance between Busan and Seoul hadn’t treated you too badly and things had been going surprisingly well. You were a good five months into your newfound relationship when there had been a sudden opening in the Organized Crime unit, a real step-up for Jungkook’s career. Jungkook had told you once he’d applied for the job that he’d have applied anyway regardless if you were in the picture or not, and you appreciated his honesty. Both of you had always been the type to put your careers first, but you couldn’t believe your luck that things had just fallen into place like this. You’re happy for him.

“Although having you here is a pretty sweet bonus,” Jungkook adds, making you smile. The two of you stand there in silence, arm-in-arm, enjoying the celebrations from afar.

[buck-buck-boose]

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: I am... so sorry for taking so long. I was not expecting the start of the semester to be so hectic. I can't promise I'll go back to posting as regularly as during the summer, but I can promise that I'm not disappearing. I promise. I WILL SEE THIS FANFIC THROUGH EVEN IF IT KILLS ME. Thank you for the kind words and support while I've been MIA. Enjoy a chunky chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Little Saint Lottie

October 27, 1943

“I’m worried about her, Betty.”

“I know, Gladys. I know.”

Lottie couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full night’s rest. Days seemed to bleed into each other, with no slumber to distinguish today from tomorrow. It wasn’t long after arriving at Azzano that she realized that he wasn’t waiting for her. Bucky was gone. In his place, dozens of men awaited her arrival with sunken eyes and twitching lips that begged for relief, whether it be through a healing touch or a final blow to the head.

When the realization hit Lottie, there wasn’t much she could do besides throwing herself into her work; if she couldn’t help Bucky, the least she could do was help his brothers in arms. Although anxiety ate her up from the inside out, Lottie had confidence in Bucky’s abilities. He wouldn’t let himself die in some POW camp, he just wouldn’t. Because then who would take care of her and Steve? He’d fight tooth and nail to get back to them, she just knew it.

She threw herself into her work, rarely stopping long enough to have a proper conversation or a full meal; this bad habit of hers came to a halt, though, when she came upon a boisterous redhead in need of stitches. Lottie had been deep in thought while examining the gash above his forehead when the soldier cracked a grin and peered up at her without moving his head too much.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lottie shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Private—” she glanced at his dog tags, “—O’Connor.”

“Ever done pinup? Maybe I know you from one of those cheesecakes we’ve got hanging up.” The man— more of a boy really, with his lanky frame and jovial smile —wiggled his eyebrows and ruined her diligent work of cleaning the blood from his wound.

The question left Lottie flustered; the idea of dozens of men gawking at her scantily clad figure left her feeling mortified, “Certainly not! I find that my talents are better suited for healing.”

O’Connor nodded and inspected her face carefully as she went to work on his gash once more. “I’ve got it!” Lottie nearly jumped away from him when he clapped his hands together, “You’re Little Saint Lottie, in the flesh!” The boy crowed his revelation, earning him glares from the other men recovering in the medic tent.

Lottie nearly dropped the needle that she’d been preparing to thread, “Excuse me?”

“Ah, it’s a funny story,” O’Connor chuckled, “Y’see, Sarge had this little photo he’d take everywhere. Always had it in his pocket, tucked in his helmet, you name it. Wouldn’t let the damn thing go. Anyway, we stole it out of his fatigues one day while he was cleaning up in some river ‘cause we wanted to see what the big deal was. Once we saw it was some dame—” Lottie shot him a look, “—lady, we started yanking his chain about it. He was just about as obsessed with that photo as my Ma is with her holy cards, so when he finally told us your name, we dubbed you ‘Little Saint Lottie,’ patron saint of the one hundred and seventh. That kinda pissed him off, but it’s not like you’re his girl, y’know? Though he sure acted like you were.”

Lottie was speechless. About halfway through his story, her mouth had dropped open and her hands had fallen to her lap. Here she was, looking dumb as an ox, while the soldier in front of her chuckled with childish glee.

“Me and the guys would even ask for your intercession whenever the chaplain came by to pray with us. Poor guy had no clue which saint we were talkin’ about. We tried to give it a place of honor in the tent but Sarge made us run laps when he found out we’d nicked it again.”

O’Connor nearly doubled over in laughter as he watched Lottie’s expression grow in horror. “Well as I’m sure Bucky— Sergeant Barnes has told you, I’m no saint. I’m just a nurse. Now hold still, unless you want these stitches to be more painful than they already are.” Before she could stop herself, the question came tumbling out of her mouth, “Speaking of Sergeant Barnes, do you know—” she fumbled with the needle as she made the first stitch, “—is he alright? Did you see him?” The soldier let out a hiss of pain, “Yeah, I got a glimpse of him while they were takin’ him away. He was battered but alright. There’s no man quite like Sarge, I know he’ll be back. He’d fight tooth and nail to get back. That’s what he said at least, ‘cause he always went on and on about how you needed him and all that. He sure talked about you an awful lot for a guy who hasn’t even asked you to go steady.”

Lottie’s breath hitched at the final comment, the mere idea of going steady with Bucky reducing her to a stuttering schoolgirl. She began to tie off his stitches, “We’ve been best friends for over a decade, it’s perfectly normal to care for each other deeply without bringing affection into it.”

O’Connor shrugged, which jostled her arm slightly, “I’ve never heard a guy talk about his best friend like that.”

Lottie didn’t respond. She gave his fully sutured wound one last glance, “Looks like you’re all set. Now don’t do anything stupid to get it infected.”

He gave her a crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows, Lottie nearly scolded him but held her tongue, “As you wish, Saint Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and moved along to the next bed, where another soldier waited with a smile just as wide. It seemed that these men had become pleased as punch to know their patroness had come to grace them with her presence.

The USO’s visit to their camp took Lottie completely by surprise. She’d spent so much time floating from one medic tent to the next that she’d ended up completely out of the loop of the camp’s other goings-on. It wasn’t until she saw the fully-erected stage in the middle of camp that she realized. Her heart beat powerfully within her; with Steve here, she would be one step closer to finding Bucky. One step closer to bringing him home. “They say he’s gonna be here in a few hours,” Mary beamed, obviously giddy to see the Star-Spangled Man up close and in the flesh.

Lottie returned her smile, though it was weak. The weariness was starting to catch up to her, making her feel much older than a youthful twenty-three. Her stomach was in knots with anxiety; she needed to get to Steve as soon as possible.

Betty stood with them as they watched the hustle and bustle of preparations, “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones looking forward to seeing Captain America. All these boys care about is seeing a bunch of girls dancing for them on stage, not some hunk of meat in a red, white, and blue suit.”

Nancy, who had just joined the conversation, scoffed, “It’s quite disappointing how little you think of these men and their patriotism.”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “They’re still men, Nancy. Scantily clad women or a guy singing about war bonds? They’re gonna prefer the women.”

Several hours later, Gladys was indeed proven right. Although he’d been driven off-stage with jeers and taunts, Lottie was waiting for him with a warm embrace.

“Hey, Lottie,” She could hear the smile in his voice, she felt its warm timbre as it surrounded her and reminded her of home.

“Good to see ya, Stevie.”

Steve pulled away from her and gazed around the camp, a grimace growing on his features, “Things don’t look to good around here.”

Lottie nodded, a twin grimace gracing her lips, “The hundred and seventh started out with two hundred men. Now they’ve only got fifty left. They’re barely holding on.”

Steve’s gaze shot to hers the moment she mentioned the one hundred and seventh, “Lottie that’s— this is Bucky’s—” The desperate look in his eyes made her own calm exterior begin to crack.

“Stevie, I know,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes, “I know, and I’m sorry. He’s not here. They— Those bastards took him, damn them!” For the first time since arriving at camp, Lottie cried. She sobbed and clung to Steve once more, feeling every bit like a scared little girl from days gone by.

Steve rested his hand against her back, “I’ll get him out, Lottie. He’s gotta be alive and I’ll get him out.”

She shook her head and wiped the hot tears from her cheeks, “No, Steve. You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”

“Lottie, you know I can’t put you in harm’s way like that—”

“Steve. I’m serious. What do you think I was doing that whole time I was with the SSR? Yes, we were making the serum, but they nearly trained us to death. I can shoot, I can use my knife. I can’t let you go without me.” Her voice was starting to crack, “We have to find Bucky together.”

There was silence between the two of them until Steve finally conceded, a wary gaze in his eyes, “Fine. But you need to be by my side the whole time.” Lottie nodded her chest warming with hope. “C’mon, we need to have a conversation with Colonel Philipps.”

The two of them jogged to his tent with their coats held above their heads to shield them from a sudden shower of rain. They entered the colonel’s tent, looking comical with their wet hair and heaving chests. Around them, soldiers and officials paced to and fro, examining maps or signing off various forms. If Lottie squinted, she could just barely make out the words. Letters of condolences; heartbreakingly clinical letters of regret for the losses of these sons, these brothers, these boys.

“Colonel Phillips,” Steve began, “Are you planning a rescue mission? For the surviving prisoners from the Battle of Azzano?”

The colonel looked back at him with a straight face, “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.”

Steve’s blond eyebrows furrowed, “But if you know where they are why not at least—”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save, but I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl,” before Lottie could protest, he shot her a glance as well, “and you’re just a nurse.”

Steve’s gaze on Colonel Phillips was cool, “I think I understand just fine.”

The colonel pushed past them, “Well then understand it somewhere else. Now if I read the posters correctly, you’ve got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

Steve grabbed Lottie’s hand and pulled her behind him, “C’mon, we’ve gotta get going. You go get changed.”

Lottie nodded; her medical uniform would impede this mission so she’d need to wear the fatigues that the government had finally issued to them. Her heart raced a mile a minute as she scrambled back to the nurse’s tent to change. She knew that Colonel Philipps would be terribly angry once he found out she’d shirked her night duties, but her loyalties to Bucky took precedence. The recovering soldiers were left in the capable hands of her peers. She swore as she nearly toppled over while yanking her boots on; it was rather hard to get dressed in such a hurry. By the time she was ready and had exited the tent, she was met with the somber faces of Agent Carter and Steve.

“Agent Carter, what are you doing?” For a moment, she feared that they’d already been caught, that the SSR was already putting an end to their mission.

The other woman pursed her lips, “I’m here to help.”

A mere half-hour later and they found themselves in the SSR’s plane, headed to Krausberg, where the POW camp was located. Howard Stark called out to them from the cockpit, “We should be able to drop you right at their doorstep.”

Fear was starting to creep into Lottie’s mind and burrowed itself deep within her gut. She heard the conversation continue all around her, but she was still processing the daunting mission before her. She and Steve up against Hydra. All alone. Even Bucky had struggled against them; he’d lost to them in the Battle of Azzano. Bucky. That’s what worried her most. It’s what filled her with the most fear. If she and Steve got through the Hydra camp safe and sound only to find that he was dead, Lottie wasn’t sure how she’d deal with it. She’d probably go mad, in all honesty. She’d end up in some institution, crying over lucky pennies and charcoal drawings while being molly-coddled by some woman in white. How tragic that would be.

Before her thoughts could become any darker, Lottie was jolted back to reality by the sound of bullets against metal. Steve grabbed his shield and her arm, urging her to join him by the plane’s exit.

Agent Carter shot up from her seat, “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!”

He turned to respond, “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” “You can’t give me orders!”

A smile grew on his face, “The hell I can’t! I’m a captain!”

Steve shifted his goggles and nudged Lottie, “It’s go time. When you see me pull the chute out, you do the same.”

Lottie nodded with a quiet determination, and together, they jumped.

Entering the base was painstakingly quiet; once they’d snuck into a truck and eliminated the guards inside, Steve and Lottie were left to mouth words and offer silent support through unwavering gazes. Once they’d safely passed the gate of the base, they exited the truck and swiftly dealt with any opposition.

Steve led her across the base with caution, giving hand signals when it was safe to turn a corner and sprint across a patch of unobstructed space. The two of them traveled with the shadows, avoiding any spotlights that could catch them in the act. Lottie scarcely felt that she could breathe, it was as if one exhale would reveal their presence to the multitude of guards.

Once they entered the main building, the two of them found themselves in what seemed to be a factory. There were giant sheets of metal everywhere and huge bombs seemed to surround them. Amongst them all, Hydra soldiers transported other metal parts and containers of glowing blue material. That did not bode well with Lottie at all.

Lottie spotted some guards walking to a lower level, jangling keys in hand. “Steve, they might be guarding the prisoners.” Her whisper was barely audible, fear keeping her from speaking any louder.

“The blueprints said they were below the manufacturing level. C’mon.”

They followed the guards onto a walkway that had large circular grates that cut into the metal, each forming the ceiling of small cells that the poor prisoners had been separated into. Lottie and Steve knocked the guards out and stole their keys. The two dropped to the same level as the cells and began unlocking their doors.

One of the soldiers gazed at them through the bars of his cell, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Steve panted from stress, “I’m Captain America.” He gave Lottie an expectant look.

“I guess I’m Little Saint Lottie,” she responded somewhat sarcastically, referencing the retrospectively comical nickname that was developed by the one hundred and seventh.

Some of the men cracked grins, “So you’ve heard our prayers, huh?”

“Loud and clear. Now let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

She tried to ignore the growing horror inside of her upon the realization that none of these men had brilliant blue eyes. Not a dimpled chin in sight.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” It seemed that the same horror was growing within Steve.

A man in a scarlet beret responded, his British accent prim and proper, “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

“Alright,” Steve nodded, “The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. We’ll meet you guys out in the clearing with anyone else we find.”

“Wait, you know what you’re doing?” “Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.”

Lottie couldn’t help but stare at Steve in amazement. Gone was that awkward boy from Brooklyn. He was a man now, a leader who could do anything he put his mind to. He’d grown so much, not just physically, but in his character.

While the prisoners worked their way out of the base, Steve and Lottie began their search for the isolation wards. Lottie tried to ignore the sounds of explosions and men crying out from below them while they traveled across metal catwalks. She could only hope that the cries of pain were coming from Hydra soldiers.

After turning several corners, they found themselves in an old hallway, surrounded by brick on both sides. They hurried down the corridor out of desperation; they knew they were running out of time. Lottie stopped suddenly when she heard a groan. It was close. She drew her weapon and dragged Steve into the room, her heart stuttering and her palms slick with sweat.

“Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven…” That voice. Oh, how she knew that voice; she loved it so. Lottie heard it whenever she found the time to fall asleep. It crept into her sweetest dreams but tore her apart whenever it wiggled its way into her nightmares.

Bucky lay in front of them, strapped down to a table; his lips moved ever so slightly as he repeated the same phrase over and over again.

She rushed to his side alongside Steve and nearly let out a cry of happiness. Had the situation not been so dire, she would’ve descended upon him with a bone-crushing embrace and great big sobs of joy by that point.

Lottie whispered a quiet, “Bucky?” His eyes were glazed over and his mouth agape, “Is that— is that—”

“It’s us, Buck,” Steve nodded reassuringly as he tore at the straps across Bucky’s chest. Bucky looked up at him, taking his face in,

“Us?”

“Me and Lottie,” he nodded, tugging her closer so that the two of them could be in Bucky’s field of vision.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, finally feeling whole again. She’d gotten her Brooklyn boys back. Bucky only looked back in confusion, “Little Lottie, she— she’s always been here. Always. Stayed with me the whole time.”

It was Lottie and Steve’s turn for confusion. Lottie brushed the hair back from his forehead to calm him down and ground him, “Bucky, I’ve been with the SSR this whole time. We’re here to rescue you.”

Steve nodded and dragged him off the table, “I thought you were dead.”

Bucky was obviously having a hard time processing everything that was happening, “I thought you were smaller.”

Lottie listened as the gunfire intensified, “Come on, we need to move.” Steve threw one of Bucky’s arms over his shoulder and the two fell into step behind her.

“What happened to you?” Bucky grunted out, pain etched into his voice.

“I joined the army.”

“Did it hurt?”

Steve was growing agitated, “A little.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Lottie huffed, “I’d sure hope so after all that effort I put into it.”

Bucky mustered out a befuddled, “Huh?”

“I helped to create the serum that made him like that.”

“So that’s why you left without saying a word.” Bucky’s tone was only slightly accusatory.

Lottie muttered a weak “Yeah.” They’d need to have a lengthier conversation once he wasn’t struggling to walk five yards.

As they crossed the catwalks to get towards the exit, the factory below them began to combust. Huge flames erupted from the metal contraptions and triggered explosions all around them. They hastily climbed the metal stairs to get to higher ground.

“Captain America, how exciting!” A thick German accent cut through the noise of explosions and gunfire. “I am a great fan of your films!” Before them stood two men; one was a short little fellow clad in a jacket and fedora. The other was tall and wore a distinguished Hydra uniform with its menacing crest emblazoned on his shoulder.

The taller of the two gave Captain America a once over as he strode across the catwalk that separated them, “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Steve snarled and punched the man in the face. The swift blow caused a blotch of redness to appear near his eye and a sinking feeling of realization settled into Lottie’s stomach. This was Schmidt, the monster who used the serum prototype.

Before she could say anything, Schmidt struck back and left a dent in Steve’s shield, “Haven’t I?”

There was a brief scuffle before Schmidt backed off while the other man pulled a lever, pulling the catwalk apart. With a grin, Schmidt began pulling at the skin of his face and revealed fiery red muscle and tissue beneath, just as Lottie had seen when she first began experimenting with the formula. “You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

“Then how come you’re running?”

Steve never got an answer. Schmidt and the other man had already boarded an elevator and left them standing on the catwalk, nearly helpless.

Another explosion went off, cueing the trio to leave, “C’mon, let’s go. Up.” Lottie instructed the men to follow her, though she wasn’t too sure how to escape the factory. All she knew was that they needed to keep ascending the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they were faced with a metal beam that led to a catwalk with an exit. It was terrifyingly slim, with only enough room to place one foot in front of the other.

“Ladies first,” Bucky murmured, “but I’ll be right behind you.” Lottie felt sure of herself knowing that at least she wouldn’t have to cross on her own.

She took a tentative first step, testing how well it would hold her weight. Lottie tried not to look down at the fiery pit below while she carefully moved along the beam. It was a comfort to have Bucky behind her with his chest nearly pressed against her back as he followed her every step. Lottie had just scrambled over the railing of the catwalk when a jarring explosion shifted the beam’s position and sent it careening downwards. She gasped in horror as Bucky leaped to grab onto the catwalk.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something!”

Steve stared at the two of them from across the pit, “Just go! Get out of here!”

Bucky slammed his fist on the railing, desperation tearing at his voice, “No, not without you!”

“Steve, please! We can’t just leave you here!” Lottie pleaded. Steve couldn’t die, not like this.

With a look of determination, Steve backed up and made a running jump to clear the gap between the two catwalks. An explosion threatened to swallow him up, but he made it over safely, although a little worse for wear.

Lottie and Bucky could only stare in amazement. Steve nodded to them both, “Let’s get outta here.”

Several ladders and a whole lot of dodging later, the trio found themselves trudging towards the tree line.

It was silent amongst the three of them; painfully, dreadfully silent. She decided it was time to break the silence, “Bucky, I—”

“Look, Little Lottie, I know you’re sorry, alright? And I forgive you. Even though you lied to my face and left without saying goodbye, I had a whole lotta time to spend forgiving you.”

Now that the fear of being caught by Hydra soldiers had fully subsided, Lottie allowed herself to let out a sob of joy and nearly threw herself at Bucky. She almost apologized for the force of her embrace since it was likely to hurt a man who’d been captured by Hydra, but he didn’t show any sign of pain. She’d need to remember that for later.

“I missed you so much, Bucky. I really did,” Lottie nearly whimpered. Gosh, she sure sounded lovesick. “I missed you too, Little Lottie.” His embrace was sure and strong, and with it, a flood of memories came back to her. Nights on her fire escape. A birthday evening spent swing dancing. A lucky penny slipped into her hand. For the first time in months, Lottie finally felt whole. Her heart that had been splintered into shards of pain and hopelessness had finally begun to mend itself back together. While she found comfort in his arms and forgiveness, she knew there were still so many words left unsaid; words that he needed and deserved to hear.

“Yeah, I missed you guys too,” Steve muttered, obviously peeved that he was being left out of their moment.

“Aw, come on, Stevie,” Lottie grinned and pulled away from Bucky a little to allow Steve to join their hug.

“And if I remember correctly, Bucky, I think it’s actually Little Saint Lottie now,” she grinned. While she couldn’t see his face at the moment, she just knew it was turning a gorgeous shade of scarlet, based on the sputtering coming out of his mouth.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

When Lappland woke up that morning, the first thing she noticed was how cold her bed was; the second thing was the Doctor-shaped hole in it; and the third was that it was, in fact, her bed and not his. This series of observations confused her - she’d definitely fallen asleep in his bed last night and had been for the past four months - and so she did what any rational person would do: yell.

“Doctoooor!” The Lupo roamed around her apartment, finding neither hide nor hair of her captive darling...darling captive? He was hers, that was what mattered. “Dooooctooooor! You there, my guy?...No?...Well, shit, where’d he go? I’ll try texting him.”

A rigorous search of her phone told her nothing - or, rather, it told her ALL information related to the Doctor she’d kept on there (contact info, some pictures both safe for work and otherwise, conversations, anything related to him) had been precision-stripped from her device while leaving everything else intact. It was like he’d never existed according to her phone. “Well, fuck. Weird bug, but maybe someone can help me find him. Or fix my phone. One of the two. Seriously, what the fuck happened?”

“Lappland?” A voice at her front door. Since she was wearing pajamas (for some reason), there wasn’t anything to stop her from answering.

“Yeah? Oh, hey, Pipsqueak.” Her ‘affectionate’ name for Sussurro. “What’s up?”

The Vulpo simply gave her a look - not offended, at least not at this hour of the day. “You were calling for a doctor.”

“Huh? No, I was calling for Doctor.”

“The only difference is a definite article in there.” She walked around the Lupo in a tight circle. “Feeling alright?”

Lappland...well, she might as well tell someone what was happening, and Pipsqueak seemed to know something. “You know where The Doctor is?”

“Who are you referring to? Dr. Kal’tsit?” Now Sussurro’s tone was drifting into confusion.

“No, The Doctor.” The Lupo shook her head. “Company hoodie, runs strategy and personal relations, been shacking up with him for the past four months?”

More, deeper confusion. “I’m sorry, Lappland, I don’t know who you’re talking about. Four months, you say?”

“Yeah. Look, he gave me thi- what the fuck?!” There should’ve been a bite mark from the other night on one of her shoulders, but it, too, was gone.

“Calm down, Lappland,” the Vulpo advised. “Would you mind coming with me to my office so we can get this down in writing?”

She certainly did...but she needed her Doctor and she needed him NOW, damnit. At least Pipsqueak wanted to help. “Yeah, sure, whatever brings him back, take me with you.”

“Alright. If you wouldn’t mind stepping in front of me? I’ll tell you when to turn.” With that, the Lupo took the lead, following Sussurro’s directions to Medical, then to a small office near the front.

“Good morning, Dr. Sussurro,” Ptilopsis chirped as they entered the office. “How may we help you?”

The Vulpo gestured to the door. “Close that for us; I’ll be writing a transcript for an exam with Lappland here.”

“An exam? You think I’m lying?”

“Lying, no,” the Medic replied, “but there’s a reason you remember this Doctor person and I don’t- Ptilopsis? Something wrong?”

At the mention of ‘Doctor,’ Tilly had stutter-stepped. “Corrupted database entry found: one file labeled ‘The Doctor.’ Peripheral contamination detected; quarantining affected data...This unit needs to record this infraction.”

“Close the door and record it for the transcript; this is more serious than I thought. Perhaps some kind of cognition hazard...” Sussurro hopped over to where she kept her medical journal, flipped to a fresh page, and began writing furiously.

“You remember him, too, then?” Lappland grabbed the Liberi’s shoulder as she turned away from the now-closed door. “Do you know what happened?! Tell me if you do!”

Ptilopsis shuddered. “This unit apologizes, User Lappland, but this unit’s memory bank has been corrupted. This unit cannot determine the veracity of their data-”

“To hell with that! What. Do. You. Know.” The frenzy was starting to kick in.

“Lappland, control yourself or I will be forced to control you,” Sussurro called from her desk, eyeing her patient with a frown. “Please give us time. We’re working through this together.”

The Lupo growled. “I could throw you across the room and make sure you wouldn’t bounce.”

“I believe that. Ptilopsis, how are you doing?”

“Data recovery complete,” Tilly replied as her eyes changed color. “Assuming direct control.”

Both Vulpo and Vulpo-chucker looked at the Liberi. “Ptilopsis?”

“She realized I was the only one who knew what happened to him, so I’m gonna take over for a minute. Nice to see the outside after all that time cooped up in her head.” She giggled.

“...Ah.” Sussorro reached for her tranquilizer setup. “What happened, then?”

The Other Voice grinned at Lappland. “This is all a dream, lil’ Lappy. Alllll a dream.”

“Then get me the fuck out of it.”

“Oh, I can’t.” ‘Ptilopsis’ opened the door. “Go find Dusk. She’ll get you out.”

The Lupo was gone before the tranq dart landed in the analyst’s neck.

Locating Dusk was actually rather simple: find Saga. “Hey! Saga! Where’s Dusk?”

“Oh! Hail and well met, Miss Lappland!” The Perro gestured to a nearby wall that was curled in on itself - attempted camouflage? Hard to say. “Surely you shall come upon her in here, although she has most graciously asked for a warning-”

“I’ll give her a warning, alright. Thanks.” No further questions; the Lupo charged across the painting’s threshold.

The monk looked on for a moment. “If only I’d spoken more precisely. I meant to give her a warning, not ask her to give one in turn...”

“Ashes to SilverAsh, dust to Dusk!” Lappland called into the inky blackness she’d found waiting for her. “I don’t know why I’m here, but you’d better take me back quickly!”

“Even a facsimile of Saga can’t help but be helpful, it seems. Will you stop shouting so much if I send you back?” The Dusk addressed her without revealing herself.

Her visitor, though, knew exactly where she was. “You’re my world’s Dusk?”

“Obviously.” The artist waited. “So?”

“Take me back, or my shouting will be the least of your problems.” Lappland’s hand was pressed against the back of her neck.

Dusk sighed. “A thousand rivers will dry before a drop of my blood meets the earth. You really think-”

“I don’t.” The Lupo struck the Dusk’s back with her other hand in three very specific places, and her victim fell forward. “I also found the exit while you were replying. You’ll be back on your feet in an hour. The next time you do this, you’re dead.”

“Ah...So this is where she took her?” The Doctor was standing in front of a conspicuous, swirling void made of paint.

Saga nodded. “Verily, I witnessed her in the midst of crossing the threshold. Doctor, thine anger burns brighter than I hath seen.”

“Don’t worry, Saga, I’m not angry.” He cracked his neck. “I’m furious. When I see her-”

“Doctor!!!” Lappland, like a streak of white lightning, bolted across the threshold and sent them both flying into the opposite wall.

Their Perro witness clapped. “Lappland! Thou hast spared Dusk the wrath of thine beloved!”

“Why?” Said beloved’s face was covering her with kisses and secondhand tears at the moment. “Why the fuck did she take you?”

She didn’t have an answer for that, and she didn’t care; much more important was the fact that she was home.

“If I might interject? Lady Dusk oft spoke of Lappland’s cackling having a powerfully distracting effect on her. Mayhaps she found herself incapable of restraining herself and acted out in anger?”

“...Sounds like what she said,” the Lupo muttered in the Doctor’s ear. “Can we go home?”

He squeezed her tightly to his chest before letting her rise to her feet and following suit. “Let’s go home...Saga? Let Dusk know I’ll need to speak with her tomorrow. I see a lot of Orirock in her future, and I’m not talking about her painting a fucking mountain.”

“Um, yes, I shall inform her of thine will post-haste.” Saga took her leave into the ink dimension.

“She’s got another fifty minutes of time-out,” Lappland noted, her entire demeanor muted by relief, both hers and her dearest’s. “Some god...same weak points as a Lung...”

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “Let’s forget about her for the rest of the day, hmm? All that matters right now is that you’re here, and I’m here, and that’s not changing any time soon.”

“Mmm...Yeah. You have my phone on you?”

“Sure do.” He handed it to her, and she opened her photo album. “Everything there?”

The Perro nodded, scrolling until she was satisfactorily reassured that this was the right reality she was in, before putting it away in her pajama pants pocket. Everything was back to the way it should be.

Everything, that is, except for Dusk’s locomotive capabilities, but they’d sort themselves out eventually.

[blueberry-sunghoon]

"#welovejay" | jay park

*in this story, you are also a member of enhypen. you and jay are the main characters (though the other members are there as well). minor swearing warning (one "hell", one "ass", one "shit"). the story is 4,357 words long. i really hope you like this story. if you do, leave a comment if you want😊*

The time was 8:45 PM. You and the other Enhypen members were at the dorm, sitting around in the living room. You were all exhausted after a particularly long day of practice.

“I’m starving but I’m too lazy to get up,” Ni-ki groaned.

“I’ll make us some ramen,” said Heeseung as he got off the couch and headed to the kitchen.

~~~

At 9:05, all of you were eating the ramen Heeseung made and you had broken off into conversations. Jake and Heeseung were talking to each other, Sunghoon and Sunoo were talking to each other, and you were talking to Jungwon and Ni-ki. In the middle of your conversation, you realized that Jay was the only one without anyone to talk to. Not only that, he wasn’t eating; he was just staring at his food and picking at it. 

You tapped on Jay’s shoulder. “Jay,” you said. No reaction. You tapped his shoulder again. “Jay?” 

“Huh?” he said, startled, and turned to look at you. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“That’s alright,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

“Are you going to eat?”

Jay sighed. “I’m not really hungry.”

You could sense that something was wrong with Jay, but he obviously didn’t want to talk about it and you didn’t want to pry any further. “Okay then. Let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about.”

After that, the mood was somber and quiet for a few minutes, but eventually you all returned to your conversations. You were still worried about Jay, but you pushed your worries to the back of your mind. 

When all of you (except Jay) finished eating, you decided you would clean up today since everyone was tired. As you started to collect everyone’s bowls, Jungwon stood up and said, “I can help with that.”

“No, that’s okay,” you said. “I can do it myself. You had a long day; you should rest.”

“But you’re tired too. You also had a long day,” Jungwon protested.

“Rest or I’ll take your elbows,” you said finally.

Jungwon chuckled to himself. “I guess if you put it that way. Are you sure you don't need any help?”

“Positive.” 

~~~

Some time later, at 10:30, you were still cleaning up and washing the dishes when everyone (again, except for Jay) walked up to you. “Are you sure there’s nothing we can help with?” said Jake. 

“100%. I’m completely fine,” you answered. 

“Okay. Well, in that case, we’re all going to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Everyone waved to you, said goodnight, and walked out. 

“Wait, Jungwon,” you whispered to him before he could go anywhere. He turned to face you. You motioned for him to come over and he did. “Have any of you tried talking to Jay? I think something is wrong and he isn’t telling us,” you said as you kept your voice at minimum volume.

Jungwon sighed. “Yeah, I thought so too. Sunoo and I tried talking to him but he wouldn’t even look at us. I think it’s best if we leave him alone for now.”

“I think so too,” you said defeatedly. 

The room went silent for a few moments. Eventually Jungwon broke the silence and said, “See you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Jungwon walked out of the kitchen and you kept cleaning the dishes. Eventually you finished, but you looked over at Jay in the living room and sighed in frustration when you realized you had forgotten to take his dish. You walked into the living room and you found him sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. You then went to the small table where his food was and quietly asked, “Can I put this away?”

He didn’t look up from his phone; he just gave a silent nod. 

So you took his dish back to the kitchen and put it in a food saver. Then you washed the bowl and went back to the living room to retrieve your phone. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Once again, Jay didn’t acknowledge you, and you felt absolutely defeated. You were about to head to your room when you heard Jay say something.

“I can’t do anything without being made fun of.”

You paused for a moment to think about what he could have meant. Who was he talking about? You sat down next to him. “Was it something I said?” you asked softly.

Jay shook his head. “No, it wasn’t you.” Jay handed you his phone and said, “Look.” Confused, you took his phone and you saw the selfie he had posted on Twitter earlier that day. He was in the practice room and he was making a peace sign. “You see it?” he said.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Look at the comments.”

You realized what was making him so upset when you scrolled through the comments. All the comments were making fun of his double-jointed fingers. “Oh my god,” you said in complete disbelief. “I’m so sorry, Jay.”

“Whatever,” Jay huffed. “It is what it is.” 

You were at a loss for words, so the room went silent for a few moments. “I mean, does anyone take me seriously at all?! Literally everything I do, they find something to laugh at. I really spent three years as a trainee just to be someone’s meme.” Hearing his voice laced with sadness and anger broke your heart. 

“Jay, you can’t focus on those comments; those aren’t real fans,” you tried to encourage him.

“I don't see anything else to focus on,” Jay said as he continued to scroll through the comments. “Do I even have real fans?”

“Jay, of course you do-”

He didn’t bother to let you finish your sentence. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said. Jay’s voice was shaky and you could tell he was about to cry. He didn’t want you to see him shed any tears, so he said, “I gotta go.” And just like that, he left. 

The living room was now empty except for you, and all of a sudden your emotions hit you like a truck. You felt mostly angry, though. You were angry at those commenters, angry at the fact that Jay felt like he had no real fans, angry at yourself because you didn’t know how to make Jay feel better… tears formed in your eyes and you didn’t try to stop them. You just stared into space as they fell down your face. 

You had to prove to Jay that he had real fans. Did you know how? No. Were you going to rest until you did it? Absolutely not.

~~~

The time was now 1:28 AM. Following the vow you made yourself that you wouldn’t rest until you found a way to make Jay feel better, you were still wide awake, laying on your bed in your room (you had a separate bedroom from the boys). Your mind was racing trying to come up with an idea, but unfortunately you were in a constant cycle of coming up with a new idea and then throwing it away once you saw a flaw in it. 

“It’s useless,” you thought to yourself. You took your phone from under your pillow and logged in to your secret Tiktok account. Belift let you have a secret Tiktok account, and you were grateful for that. Your page looked like a fanpage like any other, but being able to communicate with your fans without them knowing it was y/n from Enhypen, becoming mutuals with them, and participating in the trends they made really made your day. These days, the Sunoo cult was going around, and it was funny to see that pretty much everyone had the same profile picture. 

All of a sudden, a lightbulb went off in your head. What if I started something similar for Jay? You ran to Twitter to find the selfie Jay posted that day and downloaded it. Then you opened a photo editing app, added heart stickers and sparkles all around it, and put some text that said “We love Jay”. Going back to Tiktok, you switched your profile picture to the one you just made.

It looks good, you thought, but how am I going to spread it? It wouldn’t be an easy task, especially since the Sunoo cult was still raging in popularity and you didn’t have much of an audience on Tiktok (71 followers to be exact). The only way to quickly spread the word was to post a Tiktok and expose yourself as y/n from Enhypen… expose yourself as y/n from Enhypen? said your head. No way. You’ll get in hella trouble and you know it. You probably wouldn’t be allowed on your secret Tiktok anymore. 

Do you have any better ideas? said your heart. This would be the fastest way to spread the message. You’re y/n from Enhypen for goodness’ sakes, the fans would listen to you in a heartbeat. Besides, you aren’t doing this for yourself. You’re doing it for Jay.

What your head said made sense, but you would rather help Jay than help yourself. Like you did most of the time, you took your heart’s word for it.

You tried to think of where to film your Tiktok. Your room was definitely not suitable. Unless you wanted to film yourself whispering, the boys would definitely hear you. Your room was adjacent to theirs, and the wall between the two rooms was thinner than a piece of paper… well, not that thin, but thin enough. 

You also considered the living room, but that was also a no-go because anyone could just walk in and see what you were doing. Eventually you decided to film it outside on the porch. There’s no way anyone would be going outside at this time (except you, of course). You slowly crept out of your room, into the hallway, into the living room, careful so as to make as little noise as possible, and eventually out the front door. You took a deep breath of relief and waited for your pounding heart to return to its normal rhythm. 

You turned on the light next to the door so you could see, and then you pulled out your phone and started to record. “Hey everyone, it’s y/n from Enhypen,” you started, but before you could continue you heard the front door open and there was Sunghoon.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

You panicked and your heart started to rush again. “I think the real question is, ‘What are you doing out here?’” you said, trying to laugh it off.

“I asked you first though,” Sunghoon said with a smirk. “But I’ll answer your question to humor you. I woke up and I was thirsty, so I made my way to the kitchen to get myself some water. But then I saw that the light outside was on, and I went to check it out. Then I saw you and asked you what you were doing out here.”

“Oh.”

“So what are you doing out here?”

“Well, um, I, you see, see I couldn’t sleep, right?” you answered, stumbling over your words. “So I came out here and started to record a -note video.”

You were sweating bullets and you could feel your heart going 100 miles per hour. By some miracle, though, Sunghoon couldn’t see how anxious you were and he said, “Okay then. Don't stay out too late. Don't forget we start shooting our music video in the afternoon, and we have to get some practice in before then.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“See ya,” said Sunghoon as he waved goodbye and closed the door behind him. 

That was way too close, you thought to yourself. I should hurry up and get this filmed before someone else sees me. Even though you were a K-pop idol and you were constantly in front of cameras, you still sometimes felt weird about recording yourself. It took a few takes, but you finally finished filming.

You turned off the light and quietly made your way back to your room so you could edit the video before posting it. You plopped yourself back on your bed and added subtitles to the video. Then you went to add a caption and some hashtags including #welovejay. Your thumb hovered over the “post” button and your head tried to interfere once again. y/n, before you post that, think! is it-

But you didn’t care for any of that; you posted the video without hesitation. Feeling better than you had all day, you decided it was time to get some shut-eye. You put your phone back under your pillow and let your eyes drift to a close. 

~~~

Your alarm, which was “Fairy of Shampoo'' by TXT,  went off at 7:15. You groaned because you didn’t want to wake up, but you liked the song so you didn’t turn off your alarm. Instead, you laid there with your eyes closed because you didn’t feel like opening them. 

Then, all of a sudden you remembered the Tiktok you posted five hours earlier. You opened your eyes and feverishly opened Tiktok to see how the post did. You gasped when you saw that your Tiktok received 150,000 likes and over half a million views. Still in shock of how well your post did, you scrolled through the comments. 

“changed my profile picture! #welovejay”

“OMG ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN MUTUALS WITH Y/N FROM ENHYPEN”

“b00sting so more people see this!!!”

You also saw that many of the people in the comments had the same profile picture you made. And #welovejay was used in over one million videos. It worked, you thought to yourself. It really worked! You were so happy that you started doing a little dancey-dance around your room. I can’t wait until Jay sees this. 

~~~

At 10:45, all eight of you were in the practice room, taking a short break from practicing. You watched as Sunghoon and Sunoo made a Tiktok. They were doing the dance of “Me gustas tu” by Gfriend (Sunoo wouldn’t leave Sunghoon alone until he agreed to do it with him).

“Do you like this take?” asked Sunoo.

“It’s definitely better than the last one,” answered Sunghoon, “I think it’s okay to post.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

Sunghoon wrote the caption for the video (“Just so you all know, Sunoo made me do this”) and posted it.

“Did you post the video already?” said Jake. “I want to see the comments. Engene's comments crack me up.”

Sunoo motioned for him to come over. “Yeah, we just did. Come and see.” 

Jake walked over to where Sunghoon and Sunoo were. Sunghoon pressed the “comments” button, and all three were shocked by what they saw.

“How come everyone in the comments has the same profile picture?” asked Jake.

“I don't know, but it spread pretty quickly. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since he posted this picture,” Sunoo remarked. 

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked. You walked over to where the three were standing and looked at Sunghoon’s phone, and then you realized what they were talking about. A smile came across your face. “Wow, that’s really cool,” you said as if it wasn’t your doing. “Guys, you gotta come see this, this is really cool.” 

“What is it?” asked Heeseung as he walked over with Jungwon and Ni-ki.

“Everyone has the same profile photo here,” Sunoo beamed. 

Jay didn’t even bother walking over. If everyone has the same profile picture, there’s no way it’s me. It’s probably someone cute like Ni-ki. I’m the last person it could be. He stood aloof as he watched the seven of you gush over the picture.

“Jay-hyung, come see this!” said Jungwon.

Jay sighed and he reluctantly walked over. At least he could be happy for whoever’s picture it was instead of standing there jealous. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see. The second he did, his smile was so huge and it wouldn’t come off his face even though he tried to hide it. “Oh my god,” he said in utter disbelief. “Sunghoon, can I see your phone?” 

Sunghoon handed Jay his phone, and Jay kept scrolling and scrolling through the comments. “This is insane. Everyone really made me their profile picture.” Maybe I do have real fans.

“The text on the picture is so small though, I can’t read what it says,” said Jungwon. 

“Me neither,” said Ni-ki, and everyone else agreed.

Without thinking, you blurted out the answer. “It says ‘We love Jay’.” The seven boys immediately looked at you, and you realized your mistake. 

“How do you know? That text is way too small and none of us can read it,” Jungwon inquired.

You hesitated for a moment, and then you replied, “Well if you click on one of the profiles and click on the picture, you’ll be able to zoom in and see what the text says.”

“Is that how you found out what it says? Because none of us clicked on any of the profiles.”

Oh. You didn’t think about that. There was no way around it now. Guess it was time to tell them the truth. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you heard the sound of your least favorite manager storming through the hallway and screaming, “PARK Y/N!!!” 

“Holy shit, y/n,” said Ni-ki. “What did you do this time?”

You knew exactly what was about to happen. The manager burst through the door, anger scribbled all over her face. She walked over to where you were, and she pulled out her phone, revealing a screenshot of your Tiktok. She pointed the screen in your direction. “Park y/n,” she yelled in lower case, trying to calm herself down, “What. Is. This.”

The other seven pairs of eyes in the room were on you, expecting an answer. But you stayed silent. 

The manager couldn’t keep her cool anymore. “Do you not understand Korean?? I asked you WHAT IS THIS???” 

“A Tiktok,” you mumbled.

“Oh my goodness, y/n,” she started as she took a deep breath. “I’ve known you for eight long years, and of all of the ridiculous things you’ve done, this is by far the most audacious! What possessed you to do this, huh?! Do you remember the day I agreed to let you have a secret account?!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Last I remember, the secret account was to be SECRET! Not known or not seen by the public. How could you go directly against our agreement?? Look at this - 700,000 likes! This was when I screenshotted it. Who KNOWS how many it could have now!”

700,000 likes? Wow, it blew up so much since I last checked. When I woke up it only had 150,000. You were so excited that your plan worked, and you didn’t realize that a tiny smile crept up on your face.

“YAH!” screamed the manager. “How can you be laughing right now?! Is that what you have to say for yourself?! Why did you even do this?!”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before you spoke. “Mrs. Choi, did you watch the video?”

“y/n, I don't give a rat’s ass what’s in your video. It's probably something stupid. There’s no reason you couldn’t have posted it on Enhypen’s official Tiktok.”

“I believe if you watch the video, you’ll understand why I posted it.”

“Nonsense,” she huffed as she opened Tiktok to find your video. “Let’s hear it.” The video started as she turned her volume all the way up.

“Hey, everyone, it’s y/n from Enhypen. Um, this has been my secret account for a while. I guess it won’t be much of a secret anymore after I post this, and I’ll more than likely get in trouble for it, but I don't care. What I need to say is that important. You guys know Jay. Well, he’s having a tough time and I really wanted to encourage him. Do you guys see my profile picture? I made it myself. If you guys want to do me a favor, you can change your profile picture to this so we can show Jay how much we love him. I’ll put the picture at the end so you can crop it. If you don't want to change your profile picture that’s completely fine; you can also help by boosting the video so more people see it. Like, comment, share/copy link, use the hashtag #welovejay, whatever you need to do. If I don't post again on here, it means I got in trouble. Engene, I’m counting on you. Hwaiting!”

As the video ended, Mrs. Choi’s anger faded away. “Oh,” she said softly. “Did any of you know about this?”

“Yes and no,” answered Jake. “Sunghoon and Sunoo just posted a Tiktok, and we saw that all of the commenters had the same profile picture, but we didn’t know that it was y/n who started it.”

“I need to see this,��� said Mrs. Choi. She searched for Enhypen’s most recent Tiktok on her phone and looked through the comments. “You know what y/n?” she said as she looked up from her phone to face you, “I respect you for this. I’m sorry that I got so angry at you.”

“It’s okay,” you said.

“While I respect what you did, that doesn’t change the fact that you broke the agreement you and I had. I can’t let you go without consequences. Consider the secret Tiktok thing over. From now on, the only one you use is @enhypen. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said. 

“Good,” she said. She took a deep breath. “Well, I’ll see the eight of you later at the music video shoot.”

You all bowed as you said bye, and Mrs. Choi took her leave. 

After she left, the room went silent. You could tell that everyone else was thinking about what just happened and you tried to divert their attention to something else. “Well, we should get back to practicing.”

“Not so fast,” said Heeseung. “y/n, you’re the one who started the Jay profile picture thing?”

You looked at him and nodded.

“Respect,” he said. He extended his fist and you gave him a fist bump, and you smiled. 

Out of nowhere, Jay gave you a back hug and rested his head on your shoulder. “Guys, can I talk to y/n alone for a minute?”

“Yeah, of course. Take your time,” said Heeseung. At that, the boys left the practice room, leaving you and Jay alone.

“You really did that for me?” he said softly.

“Of course,” you said without hesitation as you turned to look at him. “That’s what friends are for. I saw the way your face lit up when you saw all those comments. That moment was priceless. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” 

“I suppose so.” You noticed that Jay’s voice was a bit shaky. Then you realized why when you saw tears roll down his face.

“Jay-ah, why are you crying?” you said as you wiped his tears away. 

“It’s my fault your Tiktok got taken away,” he said regrettfully. “I remember how excited you would get when you made a new friend on there. I really took away your greatest joy.”

“No you didn’t, Jay. I got my Tiktok taken away because I broke a rule,” you assured him.

“But you wouldn’t have had to if I-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupted. “You’re being too loud. I don't listen to Jay slander.”

Jay laughed a little and tried to hide his smile by looking away. “I see you smiling, Jay, don't try to hide it,” you said playfully.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are!”

“Okay, you got me,” Jay said as he pulled you in for a hug. “You best believe I’m going to bug Mrs. Choi until she lets you have your account back.”

“You can try, but don't be surprised when it doesn’t work.”

“It will. I’m her favorite, so she’ll have to listen to me,” Jay said confidently.

“Boy, since when are you her favorite?”

“Since forever.”

“You wish.”

“No, you wish.”

~~~

Two weeks later, you knocked on the door of Mrs. Choi’s office. 

“Come in,” she said. 

You walked through the door and bowed. 

“You needed to see me?” you said. She was sitting in her desk and she didn’t look at you.

“Yeah,” she said. “Take a seat.”

You did as she said. Her eyes were still glued to the computer and she was typing something. You were worried because you had no idea what she was about to say, so you sat there nervously as your hands started to sweat. 

Finally Mrs. Choi looked away her computer and turned to face you. She took a deep breath and said, “I regret to inform you that I’m allowing you back on your Tiktok account.”

“Regret to inform you”? You wanted to ask why she would regret that, but you didn’t want to say anything that might change her mind, so you simply said, “Thank you.”

She turned back to typing on her computer. “You should be grateful your friend is so annoying. Jay would not leave me alone until I agreed to let you have it back.”

“Oh,” you said. You had completely forgotten that Jay had said he would do that.

“Know this: you are on very, very, very thin ice. One more slip-up and it's over, no matter how much your friends annoy me. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. That’s all I have to say to you. Go back to whatever you were doing, and don't you dare forget what I said.”

Standing up to leave, you said, “I won’t. Thank you, Mrs. Choi.” You bowed once again and left her office. 

Once you closed the door behind you, the first thing you saw was Jay across from you in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face. 

“I told you it would work.”

[idy-ll-ique]

Dogs.

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Requested: Nope

Summary: Y/N and Chris meet at the garden when their dogs take a liking to each other. Can the same be said for Y/N and Chris?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! I already posted this on my old account... which is gone (RIP) so I'm posting it again over here! Enjoy!

---

"Zeus! Zeus, honey, get back!" Y/N sighed as her cute little dog chased butterflies in the garden. She sat down on a bench, tired. Zeus would get to her soon. Zeus, if you didn't know, was a female dog. A bitch, if you will. She had just jokingly decided to name her that but Zeus liked it so much, she wouldn't answer to any other name. "Dodge! Dodger! Come back!"

Yes, celebrity sightings in this garden were a lot more common than you think. When someone sat next to her, Y/N looked at the person. Chris Evans sat next to her, drinking some water. When he noticed that his bottle was empty, he sighed. He was feeling extremely thirsty. Y/N noticed that and looked at her own water bottle which was untouched.

"Would you like some water?" she offered, holding it up.."Thank you so much!" He sent a grateful smile her way as he drank the water. After that, they sat in silence for a while. Chris stole a glance at her. "So, which one is yours?" he asked slowly. "The one playing with your dog," Y/N laughed. Chris looked at her. Y/N was smiling at the place where Zeus and Dodger were together chasing butterflies.

No, Chris, she's a stranger! he thought. But she gave you water! That's not called being a stranger, water is the most important component of your life, his conscience scolded him. "So, what's your name?" Chris asked the pretty lady sitting next to him. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, delighted to meet you," she said, turning to give him a small smile.

The two dogs returned to their owners after successfully getting themselves tired by chasing insects.

"Dodger likes you." Dodger was happily barking as Y/N ruffled his hair. "Zeus likes you, it seems," Y/N chuckled when she saw Zeus snuggling into Chris' leg. The owners quickly tied their dogs on leash and stood up with their belongings. When they tried to take their dogs away from each other, the dogs whimpered.

"It's okay, Zeus, I'm sure we'll meet Dodger again soon," Y/N cooed at her dog. Then she looked at Chris. "Yes, of course, we will." He smiled at her. She grinned as Zeus dejectedly started following her. "Y/N wait, give me your number so we can make plans!" She turned around. They exchanged numbers and in the meantime, Zeus and Dodger exchanged goodbyes.

After that, Y/N and Chris parted ways. The reason Zeus and Dodger had bonded so much was that they were... they're dogs... male, female... figure it out. They were dogs, they didn't care about love. Breeding was more important to them, unlike humans.

After Y/N had reached home, she first kept all the stuff away and prepared food for Zeus. Zeus, meanwhile, was lying in front of the door with a sad face.

"Oh don't worry, you big baby, you'll meet Dodger soon enough," Y/N said, "Hopefully," was added under her breath. Zeus looked up. She whimpered and Y/N's heart went out to her dog. "Aw, it's okay, eat. You'll feel better," she chuckled, cuddling up to Zeus as Zeus ate.

"Dodger, cheer up, I can't see you like this," Chris sighed once he was home. Dodger, like Zeus, laid down in front of the door with a whine. Chris had the same idea as Y/N and prepared some food for Dodger. He kept his bowl in front of him and Dodger looked up. "That's my boy," Chris said fondly as Dodger started munching on the food. Both the dogs felt better after eating, but they still missed their best friend.

Chris, not bearing to see Dodger like that, called Y/N. Y/N was doing the laundry when her phone rang from the living room. Zeus barked. "Don't worry honey, it might be mom," Y/N chuckled, going to the living room to get her phone. When she saw Chris' name, she got confused. "Hi," she answered the call.

"Hey, I just wanted to ask, is Zeus doing okay?" His question didn't frighten her, nor startle her. "She wasn't but I gave her food, now she's fine. She still misses Dodger, though," Y/N chuckled.

"Good, I was just wondering if you'd come to the garden tomorrow, too," Chris asked nervously. "Of course, I take Zeus there every day, it's her favourite place," Y/N replied. "That's good, I'll be there tomorrow, whatever timing's convenient for you," he smiled, relieved. "6?" she asked him.

"Yes, that'll do. Bye, see you tomorrow!" He hung up the phone and turned to Dodger, who was watching intently.

Y/N kept her phone away and turned to Zeus, who was watching her intently. Both Chris and Y/N got smiles on their faces at the same time.

"Tomorrow you're meeting Zeus."

"Tomorrow you're meeting Dodger."

Both dogs simultaneously let out a happy bark, making their owners 1000 times more happy than they already were. Y/N went to do her laundry again and Chris went to see the TV with Dodger. As Y/N was putting her clothes in a dryer, she realized something.

"Oh, God, is this a date?" she groaned. Meanwhile, Chris had realized the same thing too. He freaked out, he had just asked her on a date! "Doing it for Dodger. Not myself," he mumbled under his breath.

"I'm doing it for Zeus, not myself," Y/N reminded herself and took out the dry clothes from the dryer. She then went to her room to iron them.

---

The next day dawned way earlier than either of them would have wanted. Y/N's biggest concern was the media seeing Chris and her together.

She didn't want hoards of angry fans at her doorstep attempting to murder her for having a goddamn date with Chris Evans. She hated the media for posting mindless things like those.

Chris' concern, meanwhile, was not that he didn't want to be seen in the media with her, it was that he didn't want the media to notice her in the first place.

Since the garden was a popular spot for celebs with pets, paparazzi and reporters were always roaming around. And they always printed the wrong sorts of news. He didn't want Y/N to be in a bad light because Hey, did you see that girl with Chris Evans? Yeah, she's such a bitch, I mean, I'm more beautiful, obviously, why doesn't he notice me?!

He had fans like that.

Y/N was obviously more beautiful than any other girl, any other celebrity he had ever seen. Kind, generous, polite, good looking, intelligent… What more could he want? She also had a dog. That was a bonus for him. She treated her dog so well, so kindly, as if it was her firstborn child. Chris could see why Dodger was attracted to Zeus.

He could say the same about himself being attracted to Y/N. She was nice, why the hell couldn't he date her? He would date her and proudly so, okay? "Come on Dodge, we're going to meet Y/N and Zeus!" Chris called out, tying his shoelaces. Dodger came running from the living room.

He waited patiently as Chris quickly tied the leash to Dodger's collar. Y/N was tying a leash to Zeus' collar while she excitedly jumped around. "Okay, baby girl, here we go," Y/N took a deep breath and wore her goggles, opening the door. As soon as the door opened, Zeus attempted to run.

Y/N somehow managed to lock the door when she lost control and Zeus ran, pulling Y/N behind her. Y/N laughed as she ran behind Zeus. They reached the park at 2 minutes to 6 o'clock. They walked in and looked around, Y/N trying to find Chris. She saw him sitting on a bench, far away.

He was checking his watch, Dodger sitting by his leg, wagging his tail. Zeus, when she saw them, ran. Y/N, naturally, ran behind her.

When Chris heard her, he looked up and nearly dropped his phone to the ground. That happy laugh on Y/N's face could make stone-hearted people smile. Y/N, once she was by Chris' side, stopped and took the leash off of Zeus. Chris did the same with Dodger and the two happy dogs took off.

Y/N collapsed on the bench next to Chris, taking deep and heavy breaths. Then, she realized she had forgotten her water bottle. She groaned. "Y/N, everything alright?" Chris asked with concern. "Zeus... made... me... run... all th... all the way up... to here," she wheezed, coughing.

"I feel like you should drink water," he said, patting her shoulder. She was wearing track pants and a loose t-shirt, same with Chris. "I... forgot... my... bottle," she coughed more, sitting up straight. She felt better, but not without water.

"Here. I brought extra, just in case." She accepted his bottle, thanking him. When she drank the water, she felt better. "Thank you so much, Chris," she said, a grateful smile on her face. "A date helps a date." When she heard those words, Y/N looked at Chris with a look of disbelief on her face.

Her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. Chris chuckled. "I realized yesterday, what a date-like situation it was. Couples always bring their dogs for a walk," he shrugged, giving her a lopsided grin. "I didn't think you'd want to acknowledge this as a date," Y/N laughed, running a hand through her shoulder-length hair. Chris was sporting his iconic Captain America beard and long hair.

If you had a chance to see them, they looked so much like a couple you would've thought they were married. They started talking about general things, like what they do, where they live, their hobbies, favourite this, favourite that, blah blah blah.

After a while, as both of them got engrossed in their talks, Y/N noticed that Chris' watch said 8. They spent two hours just talking.

"Chris, it's getting late, I should go," she smiled sheepishly. "Oh, it's 8 already?! I have to head home too," he chuckled and they stood up. "Where are Dodger and Zeus?"

They looked around, panicking because they couldn't find their dogs anywhere. There were still people in the park, so they weren't worried much. "You go there, I'll go there," Chris said, pointing towards the left and right.

Y/N nodded and they left to find their dogs. Y/N was the one who found them. When she found them, she smiled broadly and took a photo. Then she called Chris. "Y/N! Did you find them?" She smiled softly. She told him where she was and once he got there, both of them smiled at their dogs. Zeus and Dodger were sitting under a tree sleeping peacefully.

They were curled up next to each other in a small bundle of fur. Chris put an arm around Y/N's shoulder and she turned to look at him. "They look so happy. You should bring Zeus over some time," he whispered, not looking at her. She nodded and looked down at Zeus and Dodger. They gently woke the doggos up and took them home, both the dogs following their owners in a sleepy stance.

At the garden gate, "I guess I'll see you later."

"See you later, Chris," Y/N replied in a soft voice. In the flow of the moment, Chris quickly leaned in, gave Y/N a kiss on her cheek and left with Dodger. Y/N kept standing in her spot, had Chris Evans just kissed her? She shook her head, sensing many more moments like those to come.

She wasn't even bothered.

She was excited.

---

A/N: Hello, I hope you liked it! Leave a like if you did :)))))))

[captain-aralias]

Life stuff

this feels kind of weird, because i’ve never used my tumblr like this, but i would have written something on my livejournal, and i want people to know - i just dont want to have to tell people about it, or really talk about it at all. 

but i also wanted to write this, idk. 

(TW: impending death of a parent)

my mum has cancer. 

it’s a rare form of cancer, called peritoneal cancer, which is similar to but different from ovarian cancer - i think it mostly gets diagnosed (like my mum’s) when it’s too late to do anything about it. all the treatment has been palliative only i.e. letting her live as long and as comfortably as possible.

she was diagnosed in september last year - about a year ago, a few months after running the ‘virtual’ london marathon on the isle of wight, where she lives, and obviously deep in lockdown. 

as someone undergoing chemo, she was deemed extremely vulnerable to covid, and so she spent most of the early pandemic isolating. she also said she didn’t see any point in my brother and i visitng her, particularly given the risks, because we could talk via facetime - which is fair enough - all of which meant my brother and i didn’t go to visit her until May this year, after she’d done the first lot of chemo and was already doing much better again. 

a few months after that, we found out that while she’d responded really well to the chemo, her cancer wasn’t responding at all to the maintenance drugs that were suposed to stop it coming back, so she came off the drugs completely. medical advice was basically chemo is as effective whenever you do it, so you might as well enjoy your life for a while, we’ll monitor it every month, and when things start to get too bad, we’ll put you back in chemo. 

it’s friday tomorrow - so two fridays ago, i saw my mum in london after she’d just seen hamilton with her partner, graham. both of them loved hamilton. her hair had grown back, she seemed pretty normal. about a week later, she was in A&E - and she’s been in the hospital all week. she’s got a total bowel obstruction, which means she can’t eat and hasn’t eaten since last week.

now in a weird situation where there are a few tricky, difficult options (including being moved off the island back onto the mainland to a bigger hospital) that will mean that she stays alive long enough to get the chemo, which will probably get her back to hamilton-watching strength, or ... she could die really soon. like, in a few days. 

we can’t visit. her partner can’t visit because covid - there’s this really sad-making photo of him looking happy on the phone through a window to my mum, also on the phone, inside the hospital. 

i feel...

???? :( :( :( ....

i guess this is the main point of the post. i’m not writing this crying, i’m writing it pretty neutrally - because my brain isn’t really processing it right now, and mostly doesn’t process it. 

i did cry earlier today while on the phone to various people, and then i went back to work. i hate crying, i hate being sad, and i dont like people comforting me, because it makes me realise that i have something to be sad about. 

i’ve known she had cancer for a year. i haven’t been able to hang out with her most of that time. i would say, we are fairly close, although not nearly as close as some families. we don’t talk every week, but we talk regularly, and have seen each other regularly. 

i’m so incredibly privileged that nothing that bad has ever happened to me, even though i’m 35. i’ve never been to a funeral, which seemed like a major life win and now i think was a mistake, i should have gone to funerals for people i card about less to help get used to it. 

the literal only comparison i have to how i feel is when my cat Anton died suddenly  about 3 years ago - i handled it with a mix of not thinking about it, being intensely sad for as brief a period as i could, and probably by thinking about how sad my girlfriend was about it, and sort of sidestepping my own feelings in comparison. 

i remember when my last remaining grandparent died - and i was about 14 or something - i wasn’t sad for myself, i was only sad for her my dad being sad. for ages, i worried that i was not going to be sad enough about this - and i still sort of am. 

but i also passionately hate the idea of being sad and i know i’ll look to avoid it as much as possible, and try and get on with my life. 

i know my mum dying isn’t about me - when people write after death it’s about the person who died, obviously. that makes sense. but this post isn’t about my mum, who is a very cool person, much cooler than me - it’s about me. because i am self-obsessed and this is going to wreck my life for a while.

it’s weird, because i can see it on the horizon but it’s not happening yet. and i dont know whether that’s good or bad - i feel like it’s good, in a way. someone ages ago told me that the grieving period starts when you get the news. that seems very true to me - but also, i know that it’s going to ramp up, and so i’m like in the expectation of true grief right now. 

it’s sort of like she died, but also is still going to die, but also i can magically still talk to her. which is really nice, in a way, it’s like a second chance, because i know i didn’t reach out enough before she had cancer. and i’m aware enough of my own actions that i know this is what’s been going on in my head the past year - i should reach out more, because she has cancer, but i dont want to make it seem like i’m reaching out because she has cancer, even though she knows i know she has cancer....... and also, i’m busy writing this fic. /o\

the fact that she seemed to recover (even though my mum insisted on saying ‘i am not recovered, i’m going to die soon’ like several time as a day as a disclaimer) also totally messed with my head, because i knew logically - ok, it’s happening. but also, things seemed so normal when we speak. even when i called her today, and she hasn’t eaten for a week, it seemed normal. 

btw - i realised this week i had no idea how cancer killed people. my mum is a scientist and has looked up all kinds of things about what’s killing her; i’m clearly a simon snow and didn’t want to think about things i can’t help. if you’d asked me, i’d have said like... it poisons you or something, or blocks bloodflow to your brain. not what i think will actually do it which is.... starvation. or being too weak to survive being pumped full of the poison that is intended to kill the cancer. (that one i guess i could have predicted.) man - cancer sucks. i mean, we all knew it. 

(i failed to get into cambridge university at interview stage, many years ago. the man who interviewed me gave me some extremely memorable feedback, which is that i needed to dial back the ‘defensive irony’ - which i thnk in that context meant i put myself down and tried to make a joke of everything. i remember when i got the phonecall to say Anton, my cat, was dead, i literally did not know what to do with my voice - because my instinct was to try and make the vet feel better, and also to present myself as bright and capable, and yet this unexpected and devasting news had just come through. rainbow wrote something sort of similar because she’s a good writer, for shepard as he tells penny about his curse. i feel like that.) 

what else did i want to say? 

i thought i had more time. ‘hamilton’ will probably always be tied to this moment in my mind, because of how much i’ve spoken to my mum about it in the past few weeks (i sent her the remix - she liked it, she listened to it in hospital while trying to drink more than 100ml of fluids) but yeah - this is basically a line from hamilton here. whatever. don’t make me feel my own feelings, let me just quote things. i dont like my own feelings. (no, i dont want to go to therapy - they’d make me talk about my feelings all the time, i’m british for god’s sake.) 

i’m 35 - my mum is 68. i didn’t think she’d die this early or that i’d have to deal with this yet. but then i also don’t think bad things are ever going to happen to me - because mostly they haven’t, see above. i wear a mask and am double vaccinated because i’m not an asshole, but i dont really believe i’ll get covid because bad things don’t happen to me. i didn’t think my mum would die - maybe ever, but definitely not yet. she’s been retired a decade after teaching (science) and has enjoyed it. 

i thought i had time to not have kids yet - which is the other thing (like hamilton) that this moment is really tied up with for me. i feel like 35 is getting quite old, but also not that old to still not have kids, but intend to maybe have them. my feelings about kids were basically like - up until like 25, i thought, yes, definitely. i mean, before i had a realtiosnhip (22-ish), i just assumed i would probably have a het marriage and have kids etc, like people do, but after that we were still talking, yes, children at some point. 

didn’t prioritise it for a few reasons - none of my close friends had children until quite recently, so it just didn’t seem like an urgent thing in the way that it probably does for people with different friendship groups. waiting to be settled enough in a job to be able to take maternity leave without it feeling like a rip off for my employer. waiting for a good time in erin’s PhD writing cycle. and then pandemic. and then a few years ago, maybe as i turned 30, i thought - maybe we won’ have kids, because we still haven’t - and i vocalised that to erin. 

also, i know a lot of people are gay and have children, so it’s not like it’s a thing that is impossible at all, but it’s much much harder if you have to leave your home and your relationship in order to get a child. it has to be a very very conscious decisions. i have friend who are men who have good genes, but we’re not so close i want to ask them for their sperm/to be involved however remotely in making a child - and (i was surprised to discover) (what a lot of things i dont know anything about) you an’t really just buy sperm, it’s not truly legal except through a clinic. and it’s extremely expensive to get inseminated in a clinic, and the NHS don’t really do that, so you do have to pay it. i thought kids would be expensive after they were born, but not before. and i REALLY wanted a house, much much more than - i think even today - i’ve ever wanted a child. i REALLY wanted a house - and now we have a house, and it’s pretty good. but - that’s where the money went, until the pandemic - thanks pandemic - so now we do have some disposable cash at last, because i didn’t commute. 

but now erin is worried about climate change - and wheher it’s right to bring more children into the world, and other things. and.... i think i do want to be pregnant, it’s what i’m planning for - don’t leave this job (which admittedly i also really like, and pays me well - i dont thin i need to leave) because next stop maternity leave, but..... 

i don’t know whether i am thinking, time ot have kids because my best friend just had a baby (the baby’s name is horatio - for real, i actually love this name) (i also haven’t seen her or the baby except over skype, because anna - my friend - is, like my mother, also scared of pandemic) and my brain is like - ok, well, if anna is doing it, i guess the time is here 

AND - i know there’s a large part of me that was like, gotta be pregnant and ideally have the baby before my mum dies so she gets to see that she had a grandchild. my brother and i are both queer, btw, in case you were wondering - he’s considering whether he wants to transition right now (but is still happy with he/him pronouns) and - you may find this astonishing, but i genuinely don’t know whether he’d consider himself ace, or has been in relationships. he’s very private, he has OCD and is in therapy - but anyway, he’s probably not having kids anytime soon (i think!) and graham - my mum’s boyfriend/partner of 10+ years. -has grandchildren, but my extremely middleclass white (but definitely not conservative voters, always 100% not-tory) parents ended up with me and my brother.... and i don’t know, as i say, i don’t know whether my brain is saying ‘have kids before it’s too late’ - although i know by now that it will be too late. even if my mum recovers from this, this time, i don’t think i can produce a child before she dies - and she isn’t asking me too, she’s not like that, but i would have liked her to be there. i thought she would be. 

so - i’m thinking about that. also, about getting a dog. i really want a dog - although i don’t want to upset the three cats (one we’ve had for eight years or so, the other two we got after Anton died). it’s ALSO really hard and expensive to get a dog. you’d think with all these ‘a dog isn’t just for the pandemic, a dog is for life’ type adverts around, that it would be easy to adcidentally get a dog - i’ve looked! you ccan’t get a dog unless you have no cats and you’re super experienced and can take a dog with lots of trauma or medical problems, or you’re willing to pay thousands of pounds. like - even for a regular not even pedigree dog - at least a thousand. pedigree dog - several thousand. i dont want a puppy either - i want a dog. 

and - this is embarrassing to admit, but i’ve alrady told erin - i genuinely had a phase of being super annoyed when i’d read fics where someone just ‘got a dog’. it’s not that simple!!! it’s fiction, it doesn’t matter - chill out. the baby thing too - although weirdly not fics where magic meant it was possible to get a baby, weirdly it was smut. i had a brief week or so of crazy (and i don’t think i am that crazy) where i’d read about fictional semen and just be like - wtf, it’s so hard to get hold of that shit. (it’s not real, this isn’t real semen being wasted, calm down - and i dont even really know if i want kids, i might just think i do.) 

the other thing about the bad thing being soon but not yet (but also being all the time, but not if you dnt think about it) is that i’m thinking - should i prioritise writing my remix now, in case my mum dies and i’m too sad to do it, and then i didn’t do my remix? i was definitely thinking this while writing classroom politics (i hope my mum doesn’t die becaue i dont want to be too sad to miss the deadline) and in the run up to AWTWB .....

today i wrote a list of things for work that would need to be picked up if i have to unexpectedly stop working, either because i’m too sad, or because i have to do funeral stuff, or .... i guess legal stuff about settling the estate. (i guess this happens to a lot of people, too, but it’s also a bit of a mindfuck that my brother and i will inherit her house and a bunch of cash when she dies - i’m pretty well off, my brotehr does virtual reality theatre stuff so really isn’t - we’ve talked about how much easier both of our lives will be with a huge injection of cash, and how we dont know what to feel about that) (great news, dogs and kids are really expensive! time to find out whether i really wanted to spend my money on those.) told people i like at work that it’s coming, and that i dont want to talk about it. and mostly just... carrying on with life, really. until it happens. 

it’s so weird how easy it is to carry on most of the time.i know my mum’s partner is not doing nearly so well - he has to cope with an empty house and he’s retired. i’ve had periods - including right now - where i wake up every morning and check my phone to see whehter someone called me or texted me to tell me it’s over. but most of the day i’m actually really fine. i even had an ok day today. and i don’t know whether i want that to be the case, or whether i shouldn’t let myself do that. i dont know what i should prepare for in terms of where i’ll be - will i want lots of stuff to distract me (this is my guess) and work is very good for that, or i will want to clear time and space because i can’t operate and dont want people to offer me comfort. (FYI - this post isn’t written to make people say anything to me, i definitely dont want to talk about it, so please don’t feel you either have to comment or check in on me - i don’t really want you to. it’s enough to have written it, in my own time, in my own space.)

i think i wanted to write this post in a way because i thought i probably wouldnt want to write it after my mum died - because i probably wouldn’t want to say anything about it at all, for a few years. 

my mum keeps telling me about the show ‘jane the virgin’ - which she’s half way through. shhe asked me to give it a try, so i did (she often tells me about shows on radio 4, which i rarely listen to. i thouht i had more time.) i’ve watched an episode (because she has cancer, i should listen to her recommendations)(but i dont want her to know that’s why i did it) and i do quite like - it’s light and frothy and well cut together (although about kids and artificial insemination, of course). i guess in a worse case scenario where i’m too sad to work or write, i will probably watch a lot of this show - which is incredibly not sad - and feel sad about how my mum never finished it. 

BUT ALSO SHE MIGHT BE OK. for a while. 

i dont know how i feel, blargh. anyway. this was a long post. i think i wrote it mostly for me. feelings are weird. covid really sucks and so does cancer. 

going to order some chicken and watch inuyasha.

[passionatefanfictionbka]

Chrianna Short: Selling Dreams

A/N: An old short that was sitting in my drafts. Figured I finish it and post it. Enjoy!

Rihanna looked around her house and huffed before she just started grabbing photos and items that were spread out and mixed in with her decor. She had spent enough time playing this role and she wanted her life back, as much back of it that she could get. She grabbed a huge duffel bag and started throwing things into it. Just as she went to clear off the table behind her couch, she bumped into Melissa.

“Damn Girl, where you rushing off too?” Mel asked as she gingerly rubbed her shoulder.

“Nowhere. I didn’t see you there. When’d you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. You obviously didn’t hear me come in either.”

“Yea, I was cleaning up and wasn’t paying attention.”

“Cleaning up what?” Mel looked around the room, “where’s all the pictures? Don’t you think he’s gonna be a little suspicious?”

“I don’t care what he is especially since he’s not my problem.”

“How is your man not your problem?”

“He’s not my man. Never was. Don’t know how many times I have to say that.”

“Well according to media and your PR, he was your man so outside of this house he was your man. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m finished.”

“Finished what?”

“I’m finished lying. I’m finished pretending. I’m tired, Mel.”

“Does he know that?”

“I don’t give a fuck what he does or doesn’t know.”

“Whoa there, what is going on?”

“I just told you. I’m finished.”

“Robs, that’s not it. Something happened.”

“Nothing happened, honest. I’m really just over all of this. The trips and shit, it gets really boring after a while, especially if it's not with who you want to be with.”

“Chris know you done?”

“This has nothing to do with him either.”

“That’s not what I asked you. Does Chris know you are done?”

“He knows I was thinking about it.”

“Before me?”

“I didn’t want the judgment, Mel.”

“When have I ever judged you?”

“Not out loud but I could feel the way you’ve been looking at me since this started.”

“That wasn’t judgment, that was disappointment. I told you from the beginning that this wasn’t a good idea. You’ve been letting PR run your life for the last few years and just when I thought you were settled into your own, you let them pull you right back in.”

“Mel, I made the decision to go along with it.”

“For what purpose other than media bullshit?”

“It wasn’t media bullshit to me.”

“And what was it to Chris then?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You might want to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m right behind you.”

Rihanna jerked around at the sound of Chris’s voice. She smiled before she could catch herself and Chris chuckled, “you look more shocked than I thought you would be. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why? How are you here?”

“I drove here, what do you mean?”

“How’d you even know I was in town? I didn’t call you.”

“You normally don't and somehow I still have perfect timing,” Chris walked towards her and plopped down in an armchair, “besides I could always sense when something was wrong and considering this room, I was right.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“You don’t pull a Bernadine in Waiting to Exhale for nothing. What’s going on?”

“I really don’t have to answer you.”

“You don't but you will. Eventually.”

Melissa laughed causing Rihanna to remember she was in the room, “there is nothing funny about this.”

“Oh there’s a lot funny but I’m gonna go to my room and laugh. It’s tense in here.”

Melissa patted Chris’s shoulder as she walked past him to leave the living room. Rihanna turned her attention back to him, “why are you here, Chris?’

“I told you that I sensed something was wrong and...I miss you.”

“I just saw you in New York.”

“That was well over two months ago. Still not used to these long gaps.”

“We’ve dealt with longer.”

“That’s when we really didn’t have any options.”

“Who says now that we do have options?”

“We did especially once we started this up again.”

“This what?”

“What? Does your nigga have the room wired for sound or you just acting dense on purpose?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“You don’t get to barge in my house in the middle of my recharging session, demanding answers to shit that isn’t your business.”

“All of this is my business.”

“Really? How?”

“Because you’re my business and have been over the last decade. I told you this from Matt to Drake to this Arab nigga, I don’t give a fuck about no PR stunts and relationships, we’ve been in this from the beginning and it hasn’t changed. When I feel like something is wrong, I’m gonna come whether you ask me to or not, guns blazing if I have to. We’ve been good for this long so clearly something has changed if you giving me attitude like this and I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Rihanna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before settling her hands on her waist. Chris was right; he didn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally do when she came in town and she was overreacting.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just- I don’t know.”

“What is it? Is the pressure getting to you? Are you changing your mind? We’ve been communicating so well up until now, just let me know what’s up.”

“It's not you. I just don’t have my head on too straight.”

“Then let me help you, all you gotta do is talk to me, you know that.”

“I know Babe, it’s just- I’m still trying to figure it out. I feel out of control.”

“So stop trying to figure it out and just relax. You’re not gonna gain more control by acting out of control. Forcing things has never been helpful for you.”

“You’re right.”

“So sit down. Stop trying so hard to make things happen and just let them happen.”

Rihanna frowned and Chris chuckled, “what’s the matter, Baby Girl?”

“When the hell you’d get so wise?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. Now can I get a proper greeting or you still taking your anger out on me?”

Rihanna rolled her eyes and she moved to sit on Chris’s lap. He kissed her and she laid her head on his shoulder, “I wasn’t taking my anger out on you. I was just frustrated.”

“Same difference.”

Chris made circles on her exposed thigh with his fingertip, “I missed you. Why didn’t you call me when you got in town?”

“Because I’m not staying long. I’m actually out of here tomorrow.”

“Even more reason why you should’ve called me.”

“I also didn’t come here by myself.”

“Ah, now that makes sense. Where’s your Arab money?”

“Fuck you.”

Chris laughed, “I’m serious. Where he at?”

“He left already.”

“Argument?”

“Gotta actually talk to have an argument. I’m just over everything and told him to go. Services no longer needed.”

“Should’ve never enlisted them in the first place.”

“I am not having this discussion with you again, Chris.”

“We’re not, I’m just saying.”

“No more saying. You’ve expressed your dislike with the arrangement enough over the last year or so. You didn’t like him, I get it.”

“So you my girl again or nah?”

“Always been yours.”

“But am I still sharing you or no?”

“No.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

“But we’re not together, Chris.”

“By whose definition?”

“Anybody’s definition. I need time, Chris.”

“I can give you time. I’ve always given you that.”

“I mean real time. Not you sitting in the corner, staring at your watch and willing me to hurry up time.”

“I do not- nevermind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Well what do you expect? We were on a good path, babies, marriage, rings and then you spring him on me. Everytime I agree to give you time, you end up giving your time to somebody else. Regardless if it’s a real relationship or not, you’re giving time you promised to me, to somebody not me so yea, it makes me hesitate with this time shit.”

“It’s not like you’ve been waiting all alone.”

“Actually I have. Commenting on IG and shit doesn’t mean nothing when it doesn't translate to real life. ‘I’ve been chilling, minding my business, and taking care of myself. I’ve done nothing but wait by myself.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“You’ve never asked me to do a lot of things but you knew I would, did you not?”

“I did.”

“So I rest my case.”

“This isn’t easy, Chris.”

“I never said it was but you aren’t making it any easier either.”

“Clearly.”

“So what exactly is your next step?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet. I really don’t know what I want or what I want to do.”

“Just chill for a minute. Give yourself time to relax and actually sleep for a while, it’ll come to you.”

“You’re always good for a positive thought.”

“I don’t like seeing you stressed out, Baby Girl. Makes me anxious and puts me on offense.”

“Chris, you can't protect me from myself.”

“I can try.”

Rihanna laughed as she leaned up to kiss his lips, “what’s your plans?”

“I came here for you. It’s up to you.”

“I just needed to clear my head, probably should’ve come here alone in that case.”

“That’s very true but you also had an image to upkeep so a certain presence makes sense.”

Rihanna sighed, “can I quit?”

“You can do whatever you want to do. Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re my conscience right now. Can I quit?”

“Depends on why you want to quit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you quitting because you’re done or because you’re running?”

Rihanna went to say something then closed her mouth. Chris gently rubbed her thigh, “I am the last person to be giving advice on anything because I still don’t completely have my shit together but I do know what happens when you make decisions based on fear and not fact. I’ve wasted great opportunities doing it.”

“Like?”

“Our entire relationship. Past and present.”

“We’ve both done it if that’s the case.”

“We have, I just actually acknowledge it.”

“I really have no idea what to do.”

“You could start by stopping selling the public dreams.”

“What?”

“You keep pulling people into your PR antics, and that’s what they are no matter how you try to justify it, for the sake of keeping up an image that the public is comfortable with instead of actually being yourself. You being a savage is a cover. You being this pick ‘em and dump ‘em person is a cover. All a mask. You are selling them a version of you that is not real.”

“How would you know that it’s not real?”

“Because I know you. I know you in ways that the public would never get to know you. That’s why you burn out so quickly. That’s why you can’t commit to whatever you’re doing for so long because you’re not being true to you.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re included in what I want to do.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Listen, I’ve been out of the picture for extended periods of time and you still stick to the script. You pick people who you don’t really like because you know that they can’t hurt you. I pick people because they’re easy to get and easy to dismiss. I go for ease. You go for comfort.”

Rihanna sucked her teeth as she folded her arms across her chest, “I don’t agree with that.”

“I can accept that, don't make what I said wrong though.”

“So what about you?”

“What about me? I am a complete and utter fuck up at times, I’m transparent about that. I play games to distract myself and others from reality. I bullshit myself a lot but I know it. I accept it therefore I accept the consequences that come from it. You, on the other hand, not so much.”

“Are you saying that I don’t accept accountability?”

“Yea, pretty much.”

Rihanna pushed off his lap and moved to grab the duffel bag she was holding earlier, “Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

“Baby Girl, if you accept accountability, you wouldn’t be lying and justifying things to anyone, especially not to yourself. You wouldn’t be cleaning out the pictures of a man that you publicly entertained for a year even though you didn’t like him. You wouldn’t be hiding and letting the world turn you into a recluse, just to do what you want to do. You wouldn’t be teasing albums when all you really want to do is make clothes and make up. You’d be upfront and honest regardless of others’ reactions. The fact you haven’t and you can’t even verbally express why without providing justifications for it is exactly why we’re having this conversation. None of this can happen without your participation. You have to be accountable for that.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“That’s fine.”

“And I’d like you to leave.”

“That’s fine too.”

“Are you serious?”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you or make you feel worse but we’ve prided ourselves on being honest with each other thus far so I don’t regret what I’ve said. I’m not judging you because we do what we have to do to survive,” Chris stood up and straightened his pants, “I’ve done worse. I’ve fucked up my life worse so I’m telling you from experience. IF you want to quit, you need to be honest with yourself about why and once you do that, you need to be honest about how you got to this point in the first place. That’s the only way for you to quit in peace because the change of outside circumstances doesn’t get rid of the issues inside you. That much I know for sure even though I’m still figuring out what comes next.”

“And this makes you so much better than me, huh?”

“Absolutely not. I’m still fucking up but I’m honest with myself about why and work on how to not do it again. I backslide every once in a while but I’m human. Maybe if you accepted that part about you, you wouldn’t be working so hard to keep up this image for the world.”

“I went back to you after everything we’ve been through, that wasn’t enough?”

“Wow. I hoped you came back to me because you wanted to, not to make me your redemption story. If loving me was the worst thing you think you’ve done as a human, that’s on you. I think. I’m just your most public mistake. Don’t confuse the two.”

“I never said you were a mistake.”

“Nope but you’re saying it as if our second chance was the only thing you’ve done that others’ didn’t accept. You’re protected but you’re not invincible.”

“Sounds like you want me to fail.”

“I want you to be honest with yourself about who you are so you can stop acting like what you’re pretending to be isn’t a bunch of bullshit. I want you to be successful while being you, the real you.”

“Chris.”

“Rih, Baby Girl, there’s really nothing else to say and I think I’ve pissed you off enough for the night.”

Chris walked over and kissed her cheek before he started walking towards the door, “Tell Mel I said bye. Oh, and you missed a couple pictures on the console.” 

He left.

“You know he’s actually right, Robs. He might be a fuck up sometimes but he’s an honest one,” Melissa said as she walked into the room.

“I’m guessing you heard,” Rihanna replied.

“I did. I thought y’all were about to start arguing so I was standing in the hallway.”

“No need. He doesn’t really like to argue with me anymore.”

“That bothers you.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

“It’s uncomfor-” Rihanna stopped mid-sentence, “Am I really that bad? Do I really avoid accountability like that?”

“Nobody can answer that but you. Maybe you really do need time. I’m not saying to shut down into complete isolation but you need to really think about your life and how you want to live it moving forward. Nobody is saying that the world needs to know everything but at least let what you do decide to let them in on, be honest and true to you. If you don’t want to do music or if you only want to do it on your own time, be honest about it. If you want to date, do it but be honest about it. You can be private without treating your personal life as a secret. The best savages are the honest ones.”

Chris had just pulled into his driveway when his phone rang with a FaceTime call. He put the car in park then slid over the answer key, “Hey Baby Girl.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do. I overreacted and it wasn't fair especially since you came all that way to see me.”

“And you had all right to tell me to leave if you no longer wanted me there. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Are you home yet?”

“I just pulled into the driveway. What’s up?”

“Can I stop by?”

“Sure. I’ll order something for us.”

“OK. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Cool.”

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Hope you enjoy the next chapter of this story. Thanks to you all for reading this. You comments are lovely to read.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

Previous

AO3

Chapter 5: From Facebook to Friends

When I was a little girl, Uncle Lamb would sometimes take me into university with him. I would creep into the lecture theatre and sit at the back watching him as he enthused about Phoenician trade routes, or long gone military strategies. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but I loved it anyway. The passion he had for his subject matter thrilled me.

And once the lecture was over, I would join him in his office and we would squeeze together in an old armchair, drinking hot, sweet tea while he tried to explain the principles of a three thousand year old civilisation in words a seven year old would understand.

The armchair is now in my office at the hospital. It looks more than a bit incongruous amongst the standard NHS furniture. The rich green velvet fabric has faded to a shabby eau de nil colour and years of shuffling bottoms have left a large depression in the seat cushion. But I won’t have it reupholstered. I love it as it is. It’s a great reminder of my wonderful uncle. I sit in it and somehow it comforts me, like a soothing hug.

**********************

I glance at the clock as I walk into my office, paper cup of hot, sweet tea in hand, and head straight for Lamb’s chair. Gratefully, I sink into its depths and take a tentative sip of the steaming liquid before closing my eyes for a moment. The surgery was long; much longer than anticipated—having taken all morning and most of the afternoon, in fact. It had also been far more complicated—my original plans for keyhole surgery had to be changed, but, eventually, we completed the operation successfully. I’m always proud of my theatre team, but never more so than in situations like this.

And now, after hours of concentration, I feel in need of some light relief. I can go home, have a wonderfully reviving shower and then what? I know that Dougal is taking Geillis out for a meal tonight, so she’s not available. Mary and Anna are both working nights this week, so no joy there. Other friends live too far away for an impromptu midweek activity.  I could go to the gym. I should go to the gym. Or… more likely, I’ll go home, have cheese on toast, a glass of wine and watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ for the fifteenth time instead.

I reach for my phone to check for messages.  A notification for a Facebook friend request appears on my screen. I very rarely get new friend requests—other than the odd random gentleman hoping, I presume, to make some sort of connection. I always delete immediately.

And, yes, the request is from a gentleman—one Jamie Fraser. The profile picture is definitely Samsonite Jamie, even wearing the Scotland rugby shirt I fingered whilst foraging through his suitcase. I click accept. Why not? I don’t think I have anything too embarrassing on my posts. In fact, I don’t use it very often at all.

Neither, it seems, does Mr. Fraser. His cover photo shows a very youthful bunch of Scottish rugby supporters and his recent timeline seems to comprise mostly of being tagged in photos by Laoghaire Mackenzie. Is it my imagination, or does he have a resigned look on his face on each of their ‘selfies’?

My tea is cool enough to drink now without scalding my tongue. I put my phone down and take a large gulp whilst considering tomorrow’s workload. My job is a series of highs and lows. Today, for example, started as routine, slumped to a worrying low, before peaking at a very relieved high. Tomorrow appears to be an easier day, certainly—a review of patients’ case notes in the morning followed by an outpatient clinic in the afternoon. All follow up patients, and all doing well as far as I know, so tomorrow is shaping up to be a very good day.

I open up my phone again. Facebook messenger is encouraging me to ‘say hi to your new Facebook friend.’  Without thinking, I send a little waving hand emoji to Samsonite Jamie.

I have no sooner put the phone down than it pings. Waving hand returned. I smile. What are we… thirteen years old? Next I’ll be asking him out for an Irn Bru and a bag of chips.

Ping again.  

You owe me…

Shit! The stain on his t-shirt, no doubt. I watch the dots on the screen. Perhaps he’s calculating the cost of a dry cleaner, or a new t-shirt.

You promised me an ice cream.

You up for buying one for me tonight?

I hesitate for a moment. I hope Jamie doesn’t think I’m after him or anything like that. I mean, he’s not really my type. As I’ve said before, I’ve always been attracted to academic, cerebral kind of men like Uncle Lamb, rather than Viking marauders.

And I’ve never subscribed to the idea that men and women can’t be friends. One of my closest friends at university was a man—Joe Abernathy.  If it wasn't for the fact that he is currently three thousand miles away, working in Boston, I would be arranging platonic ice cream outings with him.

So, deciding I have nothing to lose, I type my response.

If you can get to the kiosk by 6:30, it should still be open

A brief pause, then the response.

Great. See you there?

****************

Even at a distance, I recognise him sitting at a table next to the kiosk. No white t-shirt today, it looks like some sort of check lumberjack shirt. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not what I would call ‘first date’ clothing. Which is handy, seeing as I’m wearing ripped jeans and an oversized Aran jumper. I’m clean, presentable and fresh-smelling but definitely not dressed to impress.

He stands up when he sees me and greets me formally with a handshake. His hands are warm and dry—no nervous, sweaty palms here, which is another good sign. His shirt is blue, red and cream flannel and actually quite hideous.

“I hope this ice cream lives up tae ma expectations,” he says with the merest hint of challenge.

I crane my neck and look him straight in the eye. “No doubt at all. Cherry bakewell, is it? Double cone?”

“Aye. With a flake too. Compensation, ye ken.”

He stands aside to allow me to make the purchases. Before accepting the cone, he picks up half a dozen or so paper napkins and stuffs them in the pocket of his jeans.

“I’m prepared fer ye now. Do yer worst, Ms Beauchamp.”

I ignore his clear inference and follow him to a nearby bench.

“I can manage to eat and walk at the same time, you know,” I say in mock indignation.

“Hm,” he replies. “All the evidence sae far suggests the contrary. I need proof afore I believe it.”

There’s a moment of silence as we both focus on our ice creams. I lick neatly all the way around, trying to prevent any rogue drips trickling down the cone. Jamie pulls the flake from his cone and consumes it in two mouthfuls. He looks at me and laughs.

“Caught me. I’m a bit of a bugger fer chocolate,” he mumbles before swallowing.

“Right,” he continues, much more clearly now. “I suggest we get all the boring stuff out of the way. Ye ken, name, age, family, job, blah, blah blah. I’ll go first, if ye like.”

I nod my agreement.

“Sae, I’m James or Jamie Fraser. I’m thirty years old. Since our last conversation I am most definitely single. I live in Glasgow, obviously, but grew up on a farm near Inverness. My parents still run the farm. I have one sister, Jenny, who’s married tae Ian, my childhood friend. I have one nephew—a grand little lad known as Wee Jamie and a wee baby niece, Maggie . And I dinna think it’ll be long afore they’re joined by others. They all live here in Glasgow. My job, weel, I have a business—FraserFood—recipe boxes delivered tae yer door.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of that. ‘From farm to fork.” That’s you, is it?”

He smiles proudly. “Aye, it’s me and ma family. Looks like ma marketing manager is doing a fine job, then.”

“Oh, forgot tae say, after the blah blah, ye have tae tell one confession. Only a wee one, mind.” He takes a large mouthful of his ice cream.

I purse my lips. “Really, and what if I’ve nothing to confess?”

Jamie snorts with laughter and does a funny sort of blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes. Is he trying to wink? If so, he’s failing miserably. I try to look angelic and sin free. Judging by the look of scepticism on his face, It doesn’t seem to be working.

“Sae, my confession is, dah-dah-daaaah,” he does a fake fanfare, trying to build suspense. “I wanted tae be yer friend on Facebook because I wanted tae see if there were any photos of ye in Barcelona, with all yer...er… accessories.”

I feel myself redden. I’ve just remembered catching Geillis on Facebook the other day at work and I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming next.

“Verra interesting… in particular, the one with ye and six penis shot glasses. How d’ye manage tae get two of them in yer mouth at the same time?”

I inwardly curse Geillis and her desire to live her life through social media.

“Excuse me,” I reply somewhat primly. “I don’t think we’re at the Q and A stage yet.”

“So,” I continue in a lighter tone. “Me. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I’m thirty two and I’m a paediatric  orthopaedic surgeon, here at the children’s hospital. I love my job so much, I can’t begin to tell you. As of two weeks ago, I am thankfully single. I was born in Oxford and moved up here when I was twelve, when my Uncle Lamb became a professor at the university. He brought me up, you know. Raised me when my parents died in a car accident... I… er...I was four at the time.”

I can feel Jamie looking at me, but I can’t raise my eyes. Telling people about my parents never gets any easier, no matter how many times I say those words. I concentrate on picking bits of wafer off my cone and throwing them to the ducks loitering nearby, waiting for some sort of treat.

“So it always was just my uncle and me.” I carry on talking. “Then he died… seven...seven years ago…” I can hear my voice start to crack as I fight back tears. A hand creeps into my vision and I gratefully accept the proffered paper napkin and wipe my face.

“Och, lass.” He says softly.

I clear my throat. “I'm sorry. We were having a nice conversation and then there I go, getting all teary. It’s just, well, we were a team, Uncle Lamb and I… the two musketeers. He was my hero.”

Blowing my nose in a most unladylike way, I toss the napkin into the neighbouring bin.

“And that’s pretty much me. As for a confession, well… I suppose it’s kind of one.”

He raises one eyebrow quizzically, making a better job of that than the whole winking lark, I think.

"Ok, well,  when I had your case, I tried to ring before I emailed you. I called the number in your case… twice. A woman answered and told me I had the wrong number—"

"Laoghaire."

"I know that now. But she obviously knew how to get onto your phone."

"Why did ye no' tell me?" He smiles as he says this. It's not a reprimand.

"I would have but you seemed to be coming to a conclusion anyway. No need to add more fuel to the fire."

"Happen ye're right."

He notices me shivering and gets to his feet. “Aye, there’s a bit of a chill. Fancy a wee walk tae warm up and we can carry on wi’ round two. It’s a quick fire round.”

I stand up and we move away from the pond. The ducks have already lost interest in us since they realise that we’ve nothing more to offer them. It’s pretty quiet in the park now, the cooler evening air seems to have kept people at home. The gravel crunching loudly under the soles of our shoes, I glance down and notice Jamie’s doing a sort of awkward stuttering movement with his feet. He’s clearly trying to match his stride pattern to mine. Which isn’t easy when his must be a good few inches longer than mine. Nice, considerate gesture, though.

“Sae, quick fire questions and answers. Ye can go first,” he says generously.

It only takes me a moment to think of a question that I have been wondering about ever since I explored the contents of his suitcase.

“What were you doing in Barcelona? I mean the contents of your case weren’t really fun-weekend-away stuff.”

“Nah, ye’re right. It wasna a holiday—flying visit only. I was there on business—talking tae a food wholesale company. Serrano ham, chorizo, saffron, that kind of thing,” he explains, a look of excitement on his face. “We’re expanding our range, starting with Spanish influenced recipes. A full three courses ready tae prepare, plus wine delivered straight tae yer door. Dinner party FraserFood style.”

He can’t stop smiling as he talks about these plans. And his hands move animatedly as he continues to elaborate on his new venture. His business is obviously his passion. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t got the desire for a relationship with a girlfriend—FraserFood seems to be his one love. No girl could compete.

He stops talking for a moment. “And here I am, boring ye.”

I shake my head. “Not at all, it’s really interesting.” I don’t have to lie. It’s the truth. My mouth is watering at his description of albondigas and flavoursome chicken and chorizo with cannellini beans. I’m ready to sign up for this delivery service any time.

“Sae, ma turn tae ask a question. Tell me, d’ye like this shirt?”

I try to stifle a laugh. The question is so unexpected and the shirt so awful. Trying to be diplomatic, I search for the right words, evading the actual question. “I’ve only seen you in white tops before, no colours.”

He sighs. “Ye’ve only seen me twice afore... anyway I dinna think ye need tae say any more. I ken ye’re being polite, but ye’re a terrible liar. I can tell by yer face ye dinna like this shirt. Laoghaire hated it, always made me change it. I did wonder if that was jes’ her being difficult. But apparently no’.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Ye dinna need tae apologise, Claire. Being honest is a good thing, is it no’? And friends should always tell each other the truth. And that’s what I think we’re going tae be, Claire— friends. D’ye no’ agree?”

I crane my neck  and look Jamie straight in the eye. “Yes, I do… friends.”

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Eighty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You floated through the halls at work the next day. No, not because of the wonderful 3AM sex you had with Harry last night. It was because this Saturday would be one year since your first date, the date that the two of you were choosing to be your anniversary, instead of when you made things official in October.

“What do you two have planned this weekend?” Niall asks you at lunch. Buster was with Harry today.

“We’re going to a spa for massages and to get our nails done.” You swoon. “And I think we’re going to the tapas place.”

“That’ll be great!”

“I still can’t believe it’s been almost a year since you convinced me to go out with a complete stranger.”

“I know! I spent so much time talkin’ him up to yeh, and you never showed any interest. No choice but to be blunt.”

//

“Alright, you talk about this girl all the time. You’ve talked about her for almost two bloody years! Ask her the fuck out already!” Harry slurs over drinks with Niall at their favorite bar.

“S’not like that, mate. Don’t want her in that way. She’s just my good friend…although…I think maybe she’d fancy you.”

“Lots of girls fancy me.” He smirks.

“You’re annoyin’.” Harry bursts out laughing.

“Okay, okay…why do you think she’d fancy me?”

“I don’t know exactly, you just seem like her type.” He shrugs. “I can’t really explain it, Harr, I could just see it.”

“Will yeh finally show me a picture of her? I’m not doin’ another blind date.”

“Alright, fine, why not?” Niall took his phone out to show Harry some pictures of you. “Here’s a selfie we took when we went out to the beach a week or so ago.” Niall handed Harry his phone.

Harry’s eyes popped out of his head. You were smiling big, and you could really see your freckles. Your arm was around Niall’s shoulders and you could just see the cleavage from your bathing suit top.

“Holy shit…” Harry looks back up at Niall. “And you’ve seriously never hooked up with her?”

“Nope. She’s literally just my friend.”

“Her smile is…beautiful.” He looks back down at the photo and smiles. “Do you have one of just her?”

“Let me look on her Facebook.” Niall takes his phone back. “Oh! Here’s one from our company party a few months ago.” He hands him back his phone.

You were wearing a strapless blue dress with your hair in a nice bun. Yup, he thought you were breathtaking.

“Tell me again, why have you never brought her around?”

“She’s been at my holiday party the last two years…you just never noticed.”

“Or you just never introduced us.”

“You still just sort of hook up with girls, I didn’t wanna bring up you two meeting until I knew you were sort of over that…you seem like you are, so…” He takes a sip of his drink. “I’m sort of protective of her too…”

“I get it, I know I can be an asshole.” He smirks. “I swear I’m over all that…” He scrolls past some other photos. “When was this?”

“Oh! Her best friend got married, she didn’t wanna go stag, so she asked me to go with her. It was a lot of fun.”

“She’s so…pretty.”

“Yeah. Plus it doesn’t hurt that she has a nice personality too. She’s really smart, funny, all things you’d want…she’s an incredible friend. She’d drop anything to help, and half the time you don’t even have to ask.”

“Alright, can I have her number?” Harry starts to scroll through Niall’s contacts, but Niall snatches his phone back.

“I can’t just give some random dude her number.”

“But I’m not just some random dude.”

“To me…but to her…look, I haven’t even talked about you to her…let me see if she’d be into it, okay?”

“Sure, but I’m gonna keep buggin’ yeh until you make it happen.” He smirks.

****

You and Niall were hanging out at his place, getting ready to watch Bachelor in Paradise. He hands you a bowl of popcorn, and you snuggle up next to him.

“So, who do you think is going to hook up tonight, I think-“

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“When was the last time you went on a real date?” Your face falls. That was sort of a loaded question. “Was it…Jake?”

“I’ve been out a few times, but obviously no second dates. Why?” Your eyes grow wide and you inch away from him. “Wait, you’re not like asking me out are you?”

“What?! No!” He laughs. “Not that, that would be funny, I bet you’re super fun to date.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I just mean, we’re friends, and I like being just friends.”

“Me too.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, have I ever mentioned my mate Harry to you?”

“Maybe a few times. I know you hung out with him over the weekend.”

“Yeah! We had drinks for the first time in a while.”

“Cool.”

“So…he’s a really great guy. I think you’d like him. He’s single, and so are you-“

“No.”

“Come on, Y/N.”

“I don’t wanna do a blind date. My parents met on a blind date, and look at how well that worked out.” Niall can’t help but laugh.

“Harry is nothin’ like your dad. He’s really nice, a true sweetheart.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, he said he’d go out with you.”

“He did?!”

“I talk about you enough.” He blushes. “He said he was interested.”

“I’ll have to think about it…is that okay?”

“Sure.” He shrugs and throws an arm around you.

***

Over the next several weeks, Niall kept dropping hints that Harry wanted to meet you. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he hadn’t even met you yet. He really wanted to get to know the beautiful girl that was in his friend’s life.

“Niall,” You sigh. “Why are you bringing up Harry all of a sudden? I mean, I’ve known you for almost two years.”

“Well, after your last break up, I honestly didn’t think you’d ever want to look at another man.” He shyly told you in the break room one day.

“Will you at least show me a picture of him?”

“Nope, want this to be a true blind date.”

“You’re annoying.”

“I’ll set everything up for the both of ya, and if it goes well then you can both take it from there.”

“That’s if I even agree.”

***

“Ask her if she’s free this Saturday.” Harry says to Niall on Tuesday night as they play video games. “I feel like she’s gettin’ closer to sayin’ yes.”

“What exactly do you want to do with her?”

“I’d just like to take her to a nice dinner.” He shrugs. “Think she’d like that?”

“She’d love it!”

“Figured that would be a chill way to meet, you know?”

“Yeah, takes a little of the pressure off.”

“I’ll ask her at work tomorrow.”

***

“What are you doing this Saturday night?” He asked you Wednesday morning, handing you a coffee. You each took turns buying coffee for the other. Today was his turn.

“Um, I think I was just going to binge watch something on Netflix. Why?”

“Harry was wondering if you’d be interested in dinner.”

“Oh he was?” You raise an eyebrow, and take a sip of your coffee.

“Yes, well I nudged him a little, but I’ve told him a lot about you and he’s very interested.” You blush at the thought.

“Well, I’m definitely free for dinner. Where was he thinking?”

//

“Well, obviously I’m glad I agreed.” You giggle.

“Didja get him anythin’ or is the spa day part if it?”

“It’s our gift to each other. He’s spent so much on me for my birthday, so I told him I didn’t want anything else. Was he always like that? So extravagant?”

“Not really.” Niall tries to think about it. “I mean, he loves surprisin’ people…and he really likes makin’ people smile. Never seen him do it all for a girlfriend before.” Niall takes a sip of his water. “Y/N, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to put a smile on your face. I feel like I’ve been sayin’ this from the beginning, but I’ve never seen him like this before. You’ve really changed his entire life, all for the better.”

“He’s changed mine too. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to be this happy.”

//

Saturday morning you woke up far too excited for the day ahead, but you couldn’t help it. This was the longest relationship you had ever been in. An entire year with the perfect guy. You look at him, he looks so peaceful while he sleeps. You shift to straddle him and you kiss him all over his face. He smiles without opening his eyes. His hands move up to grip your hips.

“Good morning.” You coo.

“Mornin’, angel.”

“Wanna see the video I made you? Well, for us, but it’s mostly for you.”

“I’d love to.” His eyes flutter open.

“If you’re still too tired we can wait…”

“Nope, wanna see it now.”

He sits up and you grab your phone. He throws his arm around you and you pull the video up.

“I haven’t posted this anywhere yet, it’s just for the two of us…”

“Alright.” He kisses your temple.

You hit play, and You’ve Made Me So Very Happy by Blood Sweat & Tears starts playing in the background. Harry tries to play it cool, but he was internally screaming. You pause it quick.

“I feel like this is sort of our song…we listened to it on the way up to get Buster. We both really liked it…”

“It’s great, it’s, uh, definitely our song.” He smiles and taps play again.

Throughout the song there’s pictures and videos of the two of you over the last year. There were so many good memories. You both giggled at some of the things, especially the pictures from Halloween. When it ends, you look up at Harry whose eyes are glossy.

“That was…really somethin’.” He chuckles and wipes his eyes. “You’re really good at making those.” He cups your cheek. “Happy one year.”

“Happy one year.” You lean up and kiss him. “I couldn’t wait to show you, I’ve been putting it together for awhile. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Can we watch it again?”

“Mhm.” You beam at him as happy tears come to your eyes. “I’m gonna go make us a big breakfast. I got that vegan bacon we both like.” You kiss him quick and get out of bed.

You throw on one of his t-shirts, and a clean pair of his boxers, and head out to the kitchen. Buster yips at you, and you throw your sneakers on to take him out quick. Harry gets up and finds you in the kitchen making his favorite banana pancakes.

“You know, this day is for the both of us, not just me.” He chuckles.

“I know, but I wanted to do this for you, and we haven’t made this for breakfast in forever.” You flip a pancake over.

Harry grabs the pure maple syrup from the fridge and sets it on the counter. He looks you up down. He wasn’t sure what it was about you wearing his boxers that always turned him on so much. Maybe it was the way they sort of bunched up around the tops of your thighs so he could really see the curve of your ass. He opens the syrup bottle and dips his finger in to have a taste. He loved real maple syrup.

“Give me some.” You open your mouth and smirks as he puts more on his finger. You suck the syrup off. “Mm, that’s so good.”

“You know where I’d really like to put this?”

“All over your pancakes?” You put the last pancake on the plate and turn the burner off.

“No…well, yes eventually, but not right this second.”

“But they’ll get cold…”

Harry sighs and turns the ‘Keep Warm’ burner on, and sticks the plate on top of it, along with the bacon.

“Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“Actually, that’s my shirt, so take it off.”

You swallow hard and take the shirt off, resting it on the island. Harry grins and grabs the bottle of syrup. Your nipples were already pebbled from the cool air in the room. He dips his finger back into the syrup and spreads it onto both of your nipples.

“Now I’m all sticky.” You pout playfully.

“Let’s see how we can fix that, hm?”

Harry lifts you up onto the island, and he stands between your legs. His lips wrap around one of your nipples and sucks on it. Your breath hitches as you hear him moan.

“Mm, so sweet.” He mumbles as he moves to the other one. He sucks it off with a pop and look at you. “Let’s make a mess.”

“What do you mean?” You giggle.

“I mean, I’m going to get this all over you and lay you down on the island, and then I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Oh.” You nod. “Alright then.”

You and Harry end up on the floor in the kitchen, naked, covered in sticky syrup, and giggling. You had brought the pancakes and bacon down to the floor with you.

“Mm, you did a great job with these.” Harry says, biting into the pancake.

“You certainly worked up quite the appetite.” You feed him a piece of bacon and he nips at the pad of your thumb.

“What time do we need to be at the spa?”

“At eleven, we’re getting massages first, and then our nails.” He hums his response.

“What time is it now?”

“Around nine.”

“Jesus, why did we get up so early?” He chuckles.

“Because we just couldn’t wait to love on each other.” You both giggle.

Buster comes over and you both have to sit up so he doesn’t lick at any extra syrup on either of you.

“This really was a good breakfast, thank you.” He gives you a bacon filled kiss, and stands up. He reaches his hand out and helps you up. “Come on, we need to shower before getting over there.”

“Oh, you didn’t want oil all mixed up with sticky syrup?” You ask sarcastically.

“Don’t think that’s the move.” He chuckles.

You both get into the shower, and wash each other up. You throw some leggings and a tank top on, and Harry gets dressed in some shorts and a t-shirt.

“Be a good boy Buster. Mummy and Daddy will be back later.” You say to him, and out the two of you go.

//

You and Harry check in to the spa and wait to be called in. You’re given robes and slippers. You get called in and you both are given a minute to undress.

“Shit…”

“What?”

“I really fucked up your back this morning.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry…you would think after all this time I would’ve learned to-“

“It’s fine, babe. I’m sure they’ve seen stuff like this before.”

You give him a reassuring smile and get under the blanket on the massage table. It was so relaxing, and something you both really needed. You had both talked about getting massages again pretty much right after you had gotten them the first time. When it’s done you both sit in a light room and wait to be called in for your pedicures.

“You enjoyed it?” He asks you.

“Mhm, it was wonderful.”

“I wanna give you a massage like that sometime.”

“Maybe I wanna give you one.”

“We could take turns.”

“Deal.” You lean on his shoulder.

“Would love to get you all oiled up like that, bur completely naked.”

“Oh, Harry.” You nudge him.

You get called in for your pedicures. You loved doing these things with him. It was so special and intimate. He held your hand the whole time, and you end up choosing the same color for your toes. It was a nice pastel pink that you both loved.

For your manicure, you go for a nice blue with a silver-glittery accent nail on your ring fingers. You made sure to get the shellac so it would last longer. Harry got a light yellow.

“Let’s make an appointment for you and your Nan for when she comes.” He says as you’re both paying.

“Oh, she’d like that. And two weeks from now would be a good time to get these redone, especially my toes.”

You make an appointment for the Friday evening she would be getting there. You figure after work it would be nice to get your nails done and go to dinner with her. Harry would be picking her up from the airport.

Harry knew how important it was to a lot of girls to make sure they had their nails done after they were engaged so when they posted pictures of the rings, everything would look nice. He didn’t know if you’d care that much, but he thought it would be nice for you to have fresh polish on for when it happens.

//

You pull your little black dress out that you wore on your first date after you’ve done your hair and makeup.

“Harry!”

He was out in the living room waiting for you. He looked so handsome. He had a blue silk shirt on with some tan slacks. He goes into the bedroom and he stops short.

“Need some help zipping this up.” You look over your shoulder at him smile.

He grins and comes in to zip it up. He lingers for a moment. He knew this dress all too well. You turn around to look at him and he wraps his arms around you.

“You look so beautiful.”

“Thanks, so do you.” You smile and kiss him.

“I fed Buster and took him out, so he should be good to go.”

“Alright, let’s hit it.”

You get to the tapas place and are seated after giving your reservation name. This time around you split some chickpea fries, cauliflower fritters, and a couple of other small items. You also each order a seltzer with a lime.

“A whole year.” You say as you clink your glass with his.

“Best year of my life, honestly.”

“Mine too.” He holds your hand across the table and squeezes it.

All of your food gets brought over, and you dig in. It’s delicious, you two really need to come here more often.

“Can I ask, what made you wanna bring me here for our first date?”

“I just thought it was a nice, yet chill place. Thought it would be a little more intimate sharin’ dishes. It would give us somethin’ to talk about in case things were…awkward at first.” He smirks.

“Could you imagine if we literally had nothing to talk about other than food?” You laugh. “So boring.”

“I’m very glad you had a personality.” He laughs too. “I remember I was excited to finally be meetin’ yeh. When Niall finally told me you said yes, I was thrilled. I needed to meet the pretty girl from the photos I was shown.”

“Ahh, so it was all about looks for you.” You smirk.

“And Niall told me about how great you were. Needed to see it for myself, really.”

The waiter brings over a small cake made for two people, and a single candle in it. You both blow it out at the same time.

“Mm, I love lemon.” You say as you bite into it.

“I know.” He smiles. “Think it’s one of the few sweets we agree on.”

//

“Would you kill me if I got you somethin’?” Harry asks as you drive home.

“Harry…”

“I just couldn’t help myself…I saw this perfume at the mall and thought you might like it.” He lists the center console and grabs a small box from it. “Here, see if you like it.”

“You always do this.” You smile. “And because I knew you would, I got you a little something too.” You open the box and give it a smell. “Oh! Apples.”

“It reminded me of your shampoo a bit.”

“Mm, definitely.” You lean across and kiss him on the cheek. “I love it, thank you.” You spritz some onto your wrists and rub them together. You reach into your purse and pull out a card. “You’ll want to make sure the car is parked.”

He nods and gets the both of you home. He turns the car off and taps the light so it’s bright enough for him to see. He takes the card from you. His jaw drops when two tickets slide out.

“How…when…are you serious?!” He was in complete and udder shock.

“You’ll need to close the studio for the time you’re away. And before you say anything, I’m not the one going with you.”

“Who else would I go see the Packers with?”

“Louis.”

“What?”

“I spoke with him about all this, he thinks it would be great for the two of you.”

“I can’t believe you got me tickets to see a real Packers game! I mean, I’ve only been able to see them on TV….” He smiles and then furrows his brows at you. “This is way more expensive than-“

“And I got you a plane ticket already. You’ll need to pack extra warm. That game is at the beginning of November, and it’ll be even colder in Wisconsin.”

“Y/N.”

“You got me practically front row seats to see one of my favorite artists for my birthday, and then proceeded to buy my grandmother a round-trip ticket for her to come up here. The game tickets themselves weren’t that expensive, especially since I got them so early. And I got a pretty decent fare for the flight.”

“But…this isn’t something we can even do together, I mean-“

“Harry.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “Happy anniversary.”

“Thank you.”

He opens up the glove compartment and sticks the card inside for safe keeping.

“I can’t believe…I mean…this is one of the most thoughtful things anyone’s ever done for me.” He smiles.

“I’d do anything to see that smile on your face.”

You both get out of the car, and head upstairs. Buster yips at the two of you.

“I know, we weren’t home a lot today, baby, I’m sorry.”

You both rub his belly before sending him off to his bed. Harry gets his hands on you and unzips your dress. You giggle as it falls to the floor. You unbutton the few buttons he actually used on the shirt and push it off his shoulders.

He cups your cheeks and kisses you. He swipes his tongue over your bottom lip, and you open up for him. He needed to taste you. Your tongue molds to his. You undo his pants and he steps out of them. He walks you back to the bed and you both fall onto it.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you.” He says against your lips and you smile.

“You fucked me twice this morning.”

“Wasn’t enough.”

He kisses on your neck and dips his hand inside your panties. He runs his fingers up and down your slit to get you wet. You reach behind yourself to unhook your bra. He tugs it away for you. He leaves wet kisses between your two breasts.

“Paying a lot of attention to the girls today.” You giggle.

“The girls?” He laughs.

“The girls, the twins…a lot of people refer to their boobs like that.”

“Well, that’s just what I’ll call ‘em from now on. I can come home from work and ask how my girls are.”

He starts kneading both of them and you moan softly. He tweaks your nipple piercings and you let out a louder groan. He tugs your panties all the way off you and opens your legs up. Two of his fingers slip inside while he sucks on your clit. Your head rolls back against the pillow as your hips buck up towards him. He was knuckles deep and making the come here motion over and over.

“Just like that babe, so good.” You moan.

He sucks on your clit harder while he pumps in and out of you. You grip his hair causing him to groan against against you. Your legs start shaking and he uses his other hand to keep them open. You release on his fingers, and he sucks them into his mouth after he retracts them.

“Wanna ride you.”

“Yeah? Wanna bounce up and down on my dick?”

“So bad.”

He sits up against the headboard and you straddle him. You line yourself up and sink down on him. His hands slide down to the globes of your ass and he starts to move you on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and sink your nails into his skin. Your mouth finds his and his tongue slips into your mouth. You both had a great rhythm going. He loved when you would almost lift all the way off and slam back down on him while he thrusts up into you. He nips at your jaw, then to your neck, sucking where he pleases. One of your hand slides to his neck, and you wrap it around his throat lightly. He groans as you apply a little pressure.

You use your other hand to rub your clit as he continues to thrust up into you. You both were very close. His thrusts were getting sloppier. As your release comes you loosen your grip on his throat, and hide your face in the crook of his neck. Your teeth sink into his skin as he takes full control.

I can’t wait to have this for the rest of my life. He thinks to himself. That thought alone was enough to have his come shooting up inside you. You groan as you feel him fill you up. He rests his forehead against yours as you both catch your breaths. He cups your cheek with one his hands and kisses you.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Harry. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary.”

You hug for a few minutes and then you get off of him. You both go through your nightly routines.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“What if Buster slept with us tonight? Just for tonight…we were barely with him all day, and-“

“Buster!” Harry calls for him and he comes trotting into the bedroom. “Wanna sleep with mummy and daddy tonight? Haven’t loved yeh enough today, have we?” He yips and jumps up on the bed.

You giggle and get into bed with Harry. Buster lays at the both of your feet and Harry throws an arm around you. You loved your life so much. You had no idea so much could change in a year, and you were incredibly grateful. This was the first relationship you ever had like this. Not only had you never lived with a guy before, but you had never been in a relationship this long. You were with the person you were supposed to be with, and you couldn’t happier. You wondered what the next year with Harry would hold.

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: The Proposal

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: Your's and Ben's agents approach you about pretending to date in order to boost interest in your new movie.

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter other than some swearing maybe? Things may get a little spicy in later chapters though.

Words: 5843

AN: This fic was written for El @laedymoon​ for her 1K celebration! I took the trope 'fake dating' and this was the result! Honestly fake dating is one my my fave tropes and I've been wanting to try my hand at it for a while so this was so much fun to write! Originally it was meant to be a one shot but when have I ever been good at sticking to plans lmao? Instead it'll probably end up as a three or four part series, maybe with an epilogue as well, who knows.

I’d also like to point out I started writing this months before we got those photos of Ben and Olivia so this was in no way inspired by anyone’s theories about whether or not their relationship is a PR stunt and I’m not particularly interested in that kind of talk.

Taglist: @laedymoon​​  @dtfrogertaylor​​   @ezmina98​​  @vee-ndetta​​ @atomic-watermelon​​ @kellypenac​​ @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​  @hannafuckingsucks​​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @supersonicfreddie​

You’d known fake celebrity relationships were a thing that happened, you just never expected to be approached about one. But, here you were, sat next to Ben in an office usually reserved for producers meetings, a slight frown on his face as he listened to your agents explain how beneficial it would be if the public believed you were a couple.  “It’ll be good for the movie,” your agent, Mary, said matter-of-factly, “Studies show that if people – particularly women ages 15 – 45, the exact demographic we’re targeting – believe a real romance sprouted during the course of filming a movie, they are 78% more likely to see the movie. Plus, your names in the tabloids mean more exposure for both of you which means more offers in future, no matter how well this movie does in the box office. It’s all about being seen, people knowing your names.”  “Are you serious?” Ben asked slowly, glancing to you, as if trying to determine your reaction.  “Look, Ben, obviously we can’t force you or Y/N to do this,” his agent, Peter, introduced to you moments before, said, “the movie has already started filming and everyone appreciates your opinions, so saying no isn’t going to affect your jobs. But,” he paused, making sure the words were getting through to you both, “we strongly recommend you consider it. There are enough pros to make it worthwhile and it would only have to last until a week or two after the premiere. We can give you the rest of the day to think it over and make your decisions, but we will require an answer by tomorrow morning. If you agree, we can discuss terms and get everything in order to run the first story early next week.” 

You and Ben left, tempted to laugh at the strangeness of your morning.   “Think I need a coffee after that. You wanna come over to my trailer for a cup?”  “Yeah, okay, sounds good,” you followed him quietly for a moment, thinking over the conversation you’d just been part of, “What do you think?”  “About what? Coffee? You know I love it,”  “Not coffee, the whole pretending to date thing,”  “Oh that,” you could almost hear his eyes roll.   “You don’t think it’s worth it?”  He paused.  “Saying no won’t hurt my feelings,” you nudged his shoulder, hoping to ease his obvious discomfort, “it is a weird situation.”  “Weird is an understatement. And weren’t you with that Luke guy, what would he say about it?”  “He’ll say nothing since we’re not seeing each other anymore,”  “Wait, what?”  “Yeah that lasted like three dates and went nowhere, I haven’t seen him in weeks.”  “Oh, sorry.”  You shrugged, “What’s there to be sorry for, he was boring. Anyway, we were talking about you and me.”  “Right, that.” Ben opened the door to his trailer and waved you inside, following you over the threshold, “What do you think about it?”  “I’m not opposed to it. We already spend a lot of our time pretending to date anyway.”  Ben chuckled as he flicked the small kettle on, grabbing your two mugs and the instant coffee.  “Plus it would be good to get our names out there a bit more. And we're friends, right?” After the weeks of pre-production costume fittings and script read-throughs you certainly thought you were friends and hoped Ben did too.  “Of course we’re friends doofus,”  “Thanks dweeb. But that means it'll be fun getting to hang out and stuff.”   “So, wait, you think it’s a good idea?”  “Well it can’t hurt, can it?”  Ben frowned, forehead creased, “Don’t you think it’s all a bit, well, daft? As if us dating, real or not, would really have an impact on the movie, I think that’s bullshit. Plus, y’know, the work we’d have to put in to making it seem real or whatever. That’s just inviting extra stress into our lives and extra work which it doesn’t sound like we’d be getting paid for. Acting’s fun but I don’t want to spend every waking moment doing it.”  “Well it wouldn’t be every waking moment would it? Just the ones when they had photographers around. They’ll get a few photos of us leaving set holding hands or out having dinner together and spin it into a big romantic story and all we’d have to do is hold hands and have dinner. And you can’t call bullshit when they had actual statistics to back them up.”  “It sounds like you’re trying to convince me.”  “No, if you don’t want to I don’t mind, but I also don’t see anything wrong with it. And I think you should actually think about it instead of writing it off instantly.”  “So if I said I was into it, you’d want to?”  You shrugged, “Yeah. I want this movie to do well, I want this job to go somewhere. And if I have to date you to make that happen I will. That sounded better in my head. I just mean that I’m happy to pretend to date you, even if I wouldn’t in real life, no offence.”  “I’m a little offended,” he chuckled, “but really can’t argue with that can I?”  “If you’re not comfortable with it, say so and we’ll tell them no,”  Ben paused, staring at you as he considered what you’d said, quiet for so long you were sure he was going to say he wasn’t interested. You were about to put him out of his misery and tell him you didn’t want to anymore when he spoke up.   “They did say it would be good for the movie and out careers,”  “Someone’s coming around,” you sing-songed, taking the mug he offered you.  “Alright, I admit, maybe not as awful an idea as I first thought. There are…some pros anyway. And I guess we can hear the terms and then make up our minds properly.”  “Aww, looks like I got myself a boyfriend,” 

The next morning you found out what you were in for if you did agree to it. Once again both of your agents were waiting in the office but this time a third person was with them when you arrived.  “Y/N, Ben, take a seat. This is Barry, he’s a representative from Paramount Pictures.”  Barry, with his salt and pepper hair and well cut suit, leaned forward in his seat to shake Ben’s hand and then yours with a pleasant greeting.  “Well,” Mary spoke up, “have you made a decision?”  Ben looked to you before he spoke, “It’s a tentative yes from both of us. We’d like to hear a bit more about it before we fully agree but, so far, it sounds okay.”  “Glad to have you on board,” Barry said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a manila folder full of paper.  “In that case, the terms,” Peter said, glancing around to make sure everyone was ready, “If you do agree, we’ll need you to sign some paperwork stating you understand your obligations and all that, so take a copy of these,” he took two small stapled documents from Barry, handing you each one, before passing another to Mary, “just so everyone has all the info at hand.”  “Are these the terms?”  “Yes. Don’t worry, we’ll explain, but it’s all laid out in there if you need clarification.”  “There’s more pages than I was expecting,” Ben said, already sounding like it was becoming too much work to worry about.  “You don’t have to worry about the last few pages, it’s mostly just legalese. Essentially, you’ll be required to act like a couple in public. That’s really all there is to it, though contractually it’s a little more complex.”  “What does that mean?”  “We just need you both to agree to perform specific relationship type moments that we can sell. For instance, Y/N, we will need you to be spotted by paparazzi leaving Ben’s apartment a couple of times. Or vice versa. It is the 21st century afterall.”  “You mean like a walk of shame?” you asked, glancing at the paper in your hand.  “That’s not the official term on the contract but it’s more or less correct. You’ll need to change clothes, make it look like you stayed the night even if you didn’t really.”  “Wouldn’t it be more traditional to wear the previous day’s gear?”  “Perhaps but if you’re in the same clothes as the day before the paparazzi can’t sell the photos as easily because they can’t prove they were taken on different days. We want to make these photos easy to sell and easy to circulate. To that end, some paparazzi and gossip blogs will be tipped off by the studio and hopefully word will spread as the buzz around you gets stronger.”  “There will also be required dates, of course. At least one of them needs to take place at the French restaurant Boucher because they have a partnership with the studio. There is also a clause about an argument, provided people become interested in your relationship and we keep it going all the way to the premiere.”  “Wait, an argument?” Ben flipped through his papers, trying to find the right section.  “You just have to be caught arguing, or at least looking like you’re angry and about to fight, just so we can sell the whole trouble in paradise storyline.”  “People like conflict,” Mary shrugged, “Otherwise all we need is the two of you to act like a couple in public, maybe a few social media posts, from now until a week after the theatre release. After that you’re free to ‘break up’, though you will also need to sign a non-disclosure agreement which will stop you from talking about it for a few years. We’ll organise a few magazines and gossip sites to run stories about the split and, depending on how the public react to your story, may later run some Ben and Y/N, back together question mark type pieces, entirely fabricated of course.”  “You will attend the premiere together and, obviously, do press together. We will tell reporters not to ask about your personal lives, so no one suspects the relationship to be fake, though a few questions may slip through. Though we don’t expect this movie to earn any award nominations since it’s not being marketing for any there may be some later down the track. In that case we may ask you to extend your relationship long enough to attend the ceremonies together, provided you aren’t working on other projects at the time.”  “The only other requirements are that, a few times a week you allow yourselves to be seen in public. Hand holding, kissing, really sell the whole fallen in love thing. That’s it really.”  “And we can’t even tell our families?”  “One leak is all it would take to have this revealed. You tell your mum who accidentally lets slip to the neighbour who sells it to a magazine. And if it’s revealed it could be harmful when it comes to box office numbers, which is the exact opposite of what we want. But enough of these have been done so that we know how to manage them, and all you have to do is keep quiet about it and act like you’re in love. Easy. Are you both on board?”  Barry, who’d been quiet throughout the meeting, leaned forward expectantly.  You already knew what to say, "I’m in if Ben is,”  Ben chewed his lip as he skimmed over the paper in his hands again. He sighed and raised his eyes to where Barry sat, waiting.  “I don’t know I-”  You’d seen it coming, his answer. Really it wasn’t much of a surprise. Ben didn’t strike you as the sort of person to go in for schemes like this and he’d been hesitant from the second it was suggested. You heard him sigh again as his gaze landed on you and you wondered if he thought less of you for wanting to be part of it.  “Okay. I’m in.”  You were a little stunned by his change of heart but you were the only one. Everyone else in the room seemed relieved and a little frantic, Barry reaching back into his bag, Mary and Peter talking over each other to assure you both that you’d made the right choice.  “Glad to hear that, Ben,” Barry was saying as he pulled out another folder of documents, “Now, we’ll need you to both to sign here.” 

After shooting was done for the day you accompanied Ben to a small pub for a drink. Mary and Peter had left the meeting on their phones making hurried calls to get photos of the two of you leaving the set together. You’d jumped a little as Ben grabbed your hand before realising why his fingers were linked through your own. It was warm and he didn’t let you go until you reached the pub, the snap of cameras audible as you walked down the street. You found a booth while Ben headed to the bar, returning a little later with a drink in each hand.   “One G and T for my girlfriend,” he laughed as he put the drink in front of you and slid into the seat opposite.  “Y’know if you told me last week that I’d have had a boyfriend before we finished filming and that it was you, I would have laughed.”  “God me too. Our jobs are so bizarre. Literally what other profession would encourage you to pretend to date?”  You laughed and pulled out the papers you’d been given that morning, “And who’d have thought there’d be so many contractual requirements.”  “We should add our own set of rules. Like just so we’re clear about what we’d be uncomfortable doing or whatever.”  “Safewords?”  “Get your mind out of the gutter. Christ, you fake ask a girl out and suddenly all she can think about is sex.”  “My mind was in the gutter long before we were set up.”  He let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, reaching for his glass.  “I know what you mean though. We should definitely define some things,” you grabbed your bag and began digging through it for a pen. When you found it, you turned the papers over giving you a blank canvas to work on, “Firstly sex.”  “Should have known,”  “May as well start with the big one. Rule 1: No Sex. Completely off the table.” you took a sip of your drink as you began jotting it down.  “Your wank game strong?”  The conversation was interrupted as you choked on your drink, finally recovering enough to splutter, “excuse me?”  “Well it sounds like we might be together for a while. Can’t go on any tinder dates or anything since that would look like cheating. You sure you can last that long?  “100 per cent.”  “Alright, if you’re sure. Rule one, no sex.”  You finished writing it down, rolling your eyes, “What about PDAs? We have to do some but is there anything you’d be uncomfortable with?”  “I’m not really one for like public make out sessions,”  “Thank god, me neither.”  “Okay, good. What about cuddling and that kind of thing. Man this is weird to talk about,”  “Yeah, is a bit. I can do some cuddling in public but y'know, nothing too much. Hugs are fine, an arm around my shoulders is fine. Holding hands is obviously okay.”  “What about an arm around the waist?”  “Hmmm….maybe. Yeah, I think I’d be okay with that. But your hand never goes below my lower back. I will have no arse grabs or pinches or hands in my back pocket.”  “Wasn’t planning on that but good to know. Does cuddling include lap sitting?”  “Absolutely not.”  “Okay, strong boundaries, I respect that. You going to write all that down?”  “Rule 2: PDAs kept respectable and to a minimum. And rule 3: hands above the belt at all times. What about our families and friends?” you asked as you made notes on acceptable PDAs, “chances are we’re going to have to deal with them at some point since they’re going to think it’s real.”  “Okay, um, how about…no meeting anyone unless there’s a reason like a family gathering you’d be expected to bring a partner to. And if that does come up we can work out a game plan then.”  “Make sense. Rule 4: No families unless no escape.” 

By the time you left the pub, your list of rules tucked into your bag, it was quite late.   “Hey, you wanna crash at mine tonight?” Ben asked, “we can text Peter and Mary, let them know so they can organise paparazzi for the morning.”  “Tonight? I don’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes or anything.”  “We’ll pop into a shop and buy you a new toothbrush, should probably get you one for my place anyway since apparently you’ll be staying over more than once. And I’m sure I’ve got something you can sleep in.”  “And tomorrow? Can’t wear this again in case we get photographed.”  “I’ll give you something and then I’ll drop you home in the morning,” he shrugged.   “I guess that would work,”  “C’mon, it’ll be like a sleepover. Stay up late and talk about boys, have things devolve into a sexy pillow fight, sleepover stuff.”  “And you say my mind lives in the gutter.”  “That’s not a no,”  “Alright, I’ll crash at yours. Closer to here than mine is anyway.”  “Awesome,” he grinned at you, “c’mon, this way….babe?”  “Didn’t sound so convincing there, Ben,” you snorted.  “You should have used a pet name then, instead of my actual one. And I was just testing the waters, what’d you think?”  “Babe’s okay. As long as we don’t get into weirdly cutesie things like turtle dove or snookums.”  “You don’t want me to call you snookums? How about cuddle bunny? Pumpkin pie?”  “Oh fuck off,”  “Think you mean fuck off honey bear.”  “Rule 5: Standard pet names only!” 

As much as he clearly enjoyed teasing you, Ben made sure you had a good time with him. He took your hand again but it was only so he could pull you into the warmth of a small Chinese restaurant. It was one he seemed to regularly visit judging by the way the man at the counter knew Ben’s order straight away. He seemed a little surprised when Ben asked to add extra dishes, eyes darting to your entwined hands, and then back to Ben’s face, but he said nothing, just cheerily gave Ben the new price.  “What was that about?” you asked as you walked the last block to Ben’s door, each of you carrying a bag, his full of food and yours supplies from the grocery store, “the look he gave you when he saw me?”  “Oh, that’s nothing. I used to go to that place a lot with my ex and then we broke up and I kept going on my own cause it’s close and it’s fucking good food. But, um, they know me pretty well and I guess it’s been a while since I took a girl there.”  “Well I’m flattered that you chose me to be part of this touching moment,” you laughed and followed Ben to his front door, taking the second bag from him so he could pull his keys from his pocket and let you in. You’d never been inside Ben’s place before so you let him lead you down the hallway towards the kitchen, taking charge of pulling everything from the bags as Ben got out plates and cutlery.  “Oh shit, hang on gotta text Mary and Peter,”  You took over dividing up the food as Ben dug his phone out of his pocket. A few seconds after he’d sent the message and put his phone down a ding made him snatch it back up again.  “Peter says there’ll be someone here to snap us while we leave. They want us to kiss if possible. Guess it’s really started then,”  “Guess so. Can I ask one thing?”  “Sure,” he said it slowly, almost nervously.  “Why’d you change your mind about this? I thought for sure you’d say no.”  “Oh, that. I don’t know, I guess I figured it wouldn’t hurt, especially if it was going to benefit the movie. C’mon, don’t want this to go cold,”  You weren't sure you believed him but you let him shrug off the question as you picked up your plate and followed him into the living room. The next couple of hours were spent eating and watching trashy reality tv shows, making jokes at their expense. You and Ben kept talking long after the show ended, until he realised how late it was getting.  “Better turn in otherwise I won’t get up in the morning,” he laughed.  “Yeah, probably a good plan,” you stretched out on the couch, placing a cushion under your head.  “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”  “You mean I’m not sleeping on the couch?”  “Oh my god you’re a dork,” he threw another cushion at you, “I have a spare room you can use.”  “Well I didn’t know that,” you laughed as you pushed yourself to your feet, following him back down the hallway towards a closed door you hadn’t noticed before.  “Nah, you’re all good. It’s honestly mostly used by my friend Joe when he’s travelling over this way. There’re clean sheets in the linen press in the bathroom which is the next door on the right, and extra blankets in the cupboard just there. Also watch the blinds if you try to close them, they can be a little stiff. If there’s anything else you need let me know, my bedroom is at the end of the hall, near the living room.”  “Some PJs would be good, if it’s no trouble.”  “Oh right, yeah of course, give me a second.”  You dropped your bag in a corner of the room and then popped into the bathroom to grab some sheets. Ben came back with an old t-shirt and some flannel pants.  “These are mine so they’ll probably be a bit big but they’ll be fine for the night. And they’ll look good for the camera in the morning.”  “Thanks,”  “That everything?”  “Think so, night Ben,”  “Night, snookums.”  “Rule five mister,”   Ben just laughed, pulling your door shut behind him.  

Waking up in Ben’s spare room was mildly confusing. The bed faced a different direction than yours did, the blinds blocked out too much of the morning light, and the sheets felt different. But the previous night came back to you and then the reason you were staying at Ben’s did too. It made you too nervous to go back to sleep, too restless to stay there, so you got up and stumbled to the door, opening it just in time to see Ben leaving the bathroom.  “Morning,” he groaned with half shut eyes and sleep mussed hair, “you want a coffee?”  “Please. Thanks.”  He yawned, acknowledging your answer with a nod and left the bathroom to you. When you were done you found him in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands and a second on the bench in front of him. You took it gratefully, letting the warm caffeine wake you up.”  “Breakfast? I can offer you toast or cereal unless you wanna wait for pancakes to cook.”  You shook your head, “Don’t normally eat breakfast,”  Ben looked aghast, “You know breakfast’s important, right?”  “Shhh, lemme wake up before you start lecturing me,”  Ben smiled into his own mug, falling silent until you’d downed half your drink, “You good now? Alert?”  “Close enough. Please don’t tell me about breakfast though.”  “I wasn’t going to. There was another text from Peter this morning.”  “What’d it say?”  “Well, a photographer will be here around nine-ish ready for us, but they said he’ll stay for as long as we take.”  “Okay.”  “And, um, he was very careful in how he worded it, but they want us to look like we fucked. Also I told them I’d take you home so there may be someone waiting for us there too, he never got back to me on it.”  “Shit, okay. Umm, guess I’ll just wear this then?” you indicated the pyjamas you’d borrowed, “might lose the pants though, help sell it a bit more.”  “Yeah, guess so,” Ben cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee, his eyes firmly fixed over your shoulder.  “What time is is?”  “Uhhhh,” he glanced at the oven, “Twenty past eight.”  “God I haven’t been up this early on a weekend in months.”  “Not one for farmers markets or anything then?”  “Not really. Much prefer lying in bed doing nothing.”  “Me too,”  “We’re meant for each other,” you laughed, “did you want to have a shower or anything?”  “Nah, you can if you want though,”  “Might as well wait until I get home. But I am gonna clean my teeth, especially if we have to kiss.”  “Maybe mess up your hair too, make it look like you didn’t sleep much.”  “Well how could I when you’re such a good lover,”  “I know you’re joking but if anyone asks, I’m incredible. You came like three times.”  “Did I now?”  “Of course.”  “Good thing no one’s gonna ask then, don’t think I’m great at lying.”  “You’re an actress, Y/N. Besides, it’s not really a lie, I am that good. You just haven’t experienced it personally.”  You poked your tongue out at Ben as you stood and headed towards the bathroom again but you did as he’d suggested and messed your hair up as much as you could. 

“How do I look?” you ask Ben when you were done.  “Gorgeous,” he said, eyes raking over every inch of your appearance from the ruffled hair to the hint of panda eyes you’d manufactured with your eyeshadow to the slightly unbuttoned flannel shirt and missing pants.  “But do I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked?”  “Oh, right, umm, yes I think so,”  “You do? I feel like theres something missing.” You darted back into the bathroom to look in the mirror again, “Oh! I know. Might be taking it a bit far though.”  “What is it?” Ben asked, following you and watching you in the mirror.  “What if you gave me a hickey?”  “Y/N, I-”  “Yeah, I know, that’s a weird thing to ask. Don’t worry, I think we’ll be fine without it.”  Ben’s cheeks puffed up with air that he slowly let escape his lips, “no, you’re right, if I’d really slept with you last night I would have marked you up a bit. A hickey will definitely make it look more authentic.”  “It’s not totally inappropriate for me to ask?”  “No, no, we have to make it look legit, it’s a good suggestion. Here, I’ll uhh,” he stepped in close, one hand tentatively winding around your waist to pull you back against him, the other moving to push your hair aside. His breath was hot as he leaned into your neck. You saw him glance at your reflection, eyebrows slightly furrowed, but then his lips were on your skin, sucking at you until a bruise formed. Your own breath quickened with the contact but you knew it was just because he’d found a particularly sensitive spot and it had been a while since anyone had handled you like that. It was still just Ben and it was still part of your jobs. But all the same you let your eyes slip shut and hummed at how nice it felt. You were almost disappointed when it was over. Ben stood there for a moment, head bent over your neck, long enough to take a deep breath, but then he seemed to collect himself, taking a quick step back.  “Will that do?”  “It’s great Ben, really ties the whole look together.”  Ben returned your smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Good. Good. Okay then, I’ll umm, what time is it?”  “Just after nine,” you said, glancing at your phone, “wonder if the photographer is here yet.”  “I think I will jump in for that shower actually, by the time I’m done he definitely will be.”  “Okay,”  “Make yourself comfortable though, watch some TV or something.”  “Alright. Thanks for being so cool about all this. I know you’re a little sceptical about the benefits and everything.”  “It’s fine, Y/N, no need for any of that.” He smiled again as you left the bathroom and the door shut behind you, but it still seemed off.  

You settled onto the couch to flick TV channels, pausing at a breakfast news show and then at some kids cartoon you didn’t recognise, only stopping when Ben entered the room, clean and dressed.   “Hey, I was wondering,” you said, turning towards him, “should I give you a hickey as well?”  “No,”  You were a little taken aback by how quickly he’d answered.  “I mean, I think that’d be overkill. Keep it up our sleeves for next time, yeah?”  “Okay, yeah, sure,”  “Is he there?”  “I think so.”  Ben walked towards the window and twitched the curtain aside just enough to peek out, “Yeah, looks like him. Big camera pointing at my front door.”  “Okay,” your heart began to beat a little faster, “show time then,”  “Show time.” Ben nodded as he turned back to you.  “Do we have a plan? I kinda wish I had a script right about now,”  Ben laughed a little and you thought he seemed more himself, “I think you should go out first so they can get a good clean shot and then I come out after, maybe with my hand on your back?”  “Sounds good,”  “Okay, umm, I’ll lock the door and when I turn around you kiss me and then I’ll open the passenger door for you and we’ll drive to your place.”  “Don’t bother opening my door. I’m not big into that kind of gesture, plus I think if we were actually being caught by the paparazzi, we’d be getting into the car as quick as possible. Maybe throw a look his way like you aren’t happy about being photographed just so it doesn’t seem too staged.”  “Okay, no opening doors, noted.”  You shrugged, “I just think it’s a bit old fashioned and unnecessary,”  “I’ll keep that in mind for our dates. You ready to do this?”  You nodded and stood up, leading the way to the front door. Ben collected his keys and wallet and placed a hand on the lower part of your back, your signal to open the door and step outside.   “Kinda wish I had pants on,” you said softly, “It’s a bit brisk,”  Ben chuckled as he followed you out, “We’ll put the heating on in the car for you,” he turned to lock the door. You watched him, fingers gripping the key a little tighter than he perhaps normally would, and as soon as he began to turn back around you were moving towards him, one hand thrown around his neck, the other in his hair as your pressed your lips to his. His hand found your back again, pulling you in close as he kissed you back fiercely, as if he were unwilling to let you go after such a good night together, the kiss of a man falling in love. For half a second you forgot it was an act. And then he was gone, his nose brushing yours briefly before there was space between you. You felt a little dazed with Ben looking at you so softly but you took a deep breath and reality came back to you. With another breath your turned and headed towards the car, able to hear the rapid click click click of the camera. You shot a look towards the noise and then got into the car, Ben hopping into the driver’s seat about a second later.  

“You’re a good actor,” you said before silence could settle between you, “I already knew that, of course, but the kiss was really good. Almost completely believable.”  “As long as it’s believable enough in the photos,”  “I’m sure it will be. I think we pulled it off.”  Ben nodded, “Yeah. You still chilly?”  “Little bit,”  He reached over and twisted one of the dials blindly, warm air suddenly washing over your goosebump covered legs, “better?”  “So much, thanks.”  “I think he might be following us,”  “You did tell them we were going to mine, s’pose he’ll be trying to grab a couple of shots of us there.”  “Yeah, probably.”  “Should we come up with another game plan? Maybe you walk me to my door, we stand there talking for a bit, saying goodbye. I stay and watch you leave before I go inside.”  “Perfect. Is another kiss part of the goodbye?”  “Careful Ben, you sound almost like you want to kiss me,” you laughed, “but yes, think it needs to be.” 

It went completely according to plan. By the time you were getting out of the car the photographer had pulled up outside your house, his camera sticking out the window of his car so he didn’t miss his shot. The camera clicked as Ben took your hand and you led him to your door.  “Well, guess that’s it for today. I did have fun with you last night, even if it wasn’t the kind of fun everyone else will think it was.”  “Yeah, me too. Happy to have you stay anytime you want to be photographed again. Maybe we’ll get you some PJs that can live at mine though.”  “Probably for the best. If this goes well I can see them wanting us to do it again soon.”  “Oh definitely. They’ll probably have notes for us so we can get an even better performance next time. You ready to wow them with another kiss?”  “Lay it on me, babe,”  “Anything you want, snookums,”  You groaned but before you could protest too much Ben was kissing you again, softer than before, no longer trying to convince you to stay, just trying to prolong the moment before the goodbye. It left you a little breathless as he cupped your cheek, leaving his hand there when he pulled away. As you opened your eyes you saw him bite his lip and then he leaned in to leave you with a final chaste peck before his fingers slipped from your skin and he was walking away. You let out a long exhale as you watched him go, waving as the car took off. Once you were alone inside, the door firmly shut behind you, you laughed at how ridiculous the whole arrangement was. But at least Ben was a good kisser. Not too firm, not too wet, just the right amount of tongue. Believable enough to give you butterflies.