#I’ve been occupied with uni so I’m just sharing my idea here

[quanticq]

I was listening to “The Room Where it Happens” and all I could think of is Narinder post-game seeing the Lamb meet up with the Mystic Seller and seeing them slowly spiral into Godhood.

[heylittlehollywood]

Whiling Away

This has been hanging in my drafts for a while. 

Merry Christmas, MMFD fam x

He watches as she checks her watch for the fourth time in about twenty minutes. She looks more put out every time she sees the answer on her wrist, her nose wrinkling up like she’s just realized she’s got dog shite on the bottom of her trainers. 

She brushes her long raven hair out of her face, throwing it behind her right shoulder as she glances around her. Finn quickly diverts his eyes and looks down at his boots with an amused snort. He doesn’t need her noticing him noticing her...not that it’s bloody likely; she hasn’t so much as smiled his way in the last four hours that they’ve been sat here in the terminal. 

He looks up and to his left, finding Chop and Archie curled up in their seats and facing each other. Chop’s girlfriend Izzy is tucked under his arm, her head tilted at an odd angle resting atop his chest. Finn doesn’t know how the lot of ‘em managed to fall asleep, not with all of the people milling about and the constant stream of announcements over the intercom. 

He chances another look at the beauty sitting across from them and finds her mate staring at him. His shoulders jump in surprise at the direct eye contact. He chuckles to himself and shrugs at the mate before his eyes dart to the dark haired woman again. 

The woman’s shoulder shakes from the nudge from her mate and pretty soon the beauty’s eyes connect with his. Her startled expression and slight curve to her mouth has him shifting forward in his seat. 

“She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she Finny?” Chop announces from next to him, sitting up in his chair and lifting his hands up to cup his chest. Poor Iz grumbles as she sits up next to him, moving her neck to the side with a wince.

Finn’s head falls forward into his hands. “Make it a bit more obvious, will ya?” he groans, shaking his head from side to side. 

Chop’s laughter reverberates around the terminal, waking any passenger that might be getting a wink or two of sleep. “She’s just a bird, Finn,” he explains, clapping Finn on the back, “it’s not like you’ve got the bollocks to say hello, mate.”

Finn turns his head until his cheek rests flat against his palm. “Iz, please promise me he’s not going to be like tha’ during the entire trip home?” 

Izzy wipes the sleep from her eyes, frowning at Finn. “You’ve known him since primary, Finn. Of course he’s going to be.”

Archie stretches his arms over his head, sitting up in his seat beside Chop. “Go say hello, Finn.”

“I liked you all better when you were sleeping.” Finn crosses his arms over his chest and sinks down in his seat.

Archie reaches out to touch Finn’s forearm. “I’m serious, Finn. She looks a bit sad at the moment and could probably do with some cheering up.” 

“Don’t be daft, Arch.”

Archie looks over at the two women and shrugs. “Reckon she might be sad that ol’ Finn panty-dropping Nelson isn’t staring anymore.” He turns back to Finn with a smirk. 

Finn looks to the ceiling. “What have I done to deserve such pricks for mates?” 

“Just lucky I guess,” Chop says close to his ear, causing Finn to jump in his seat. When and why his friend got out of his seat and sidled up right next to Finn, he’s got no idea. 

Finn reaches up to scrub his hand at the side of his neck. “Don’t breathe on me neck like that, ya nutter.” 

Chop grins big and sits back into his own seat. “Bet you wouldn’t mind if your love interest over yonder was doing it, eh Finny?”

Finn has to grab at Chop’s hand and force them onto his lap before the lovely woman notices his mate waving wildly in her direction. “Would you PLEASE not embarrass me?” He looks to his other mates, eyes large and pleading as he gets up from his seat. “I’ve got to use the loo. Could you two please keep him out of trouble?”

“You can count on me, Finn,” Izzy tells him from her new perch on her boyfriend’s lap, giggling when Chop blows a raspberry against her neck. 

Finns just flushed the toilet when the intercom sounds with an important update on flight 1508 from Palma to Heathrow, but Finn doesn’t quite catch it over the noise. He washes his hands quickly before finding his friends back in the terminal, the three of them looking quite distraught. “What is it? I didn’t hear the whole thing.”

Archie looks up as Finn approaches, shakes his head. “Delayed 3 hours, something about the plane needing a repair.” 

Izzy wipes at her eyes as Chop holds her close. “My mum is going to be so upset if we aren’t home tonight.”

“3 hours. That’ll put us in around midnight, yeah? I should call my da,” Finn states as he wrestles with the tie on his bag and searches the largest pocket for money to call his father. 

****

“I don’t know about the rest of ya but I’m ready to get sloshed. My poor mum were gutted that we won’t be home tonight,” Chop tells them, tossing his wallet onto the seat next to him. “Anyone else want to find a place for a pint?” He gets up and slings his bag over his shoulder, pockets the discarded wallet and starts down the hall towards the pub. 

The rest of the group is quick to grab their things and follow behind 

him, Finn at the rear. He chances a glance back over his shoulder to see if the pretty woman with the dark hair is still there, but doesn’t see her or her friend. He tugs the strap of his bag over with a sigh and jogs to catch up with his friends. 

Archie finds them a table towards the back of a pub a terminal down while Chop goes to the bar to get the first round. “This music is shit, Finn. Why don’t you pick something else?” Archie asks, sliding several coins across the table towards Finn. 

Finn shrugs, picks up the coins and heads in the direction Archie points him in. He’s happy to find nobody else around and is free to select whatever music he likes, selecting several from The Smiths, The Stone Roses, Primal Scream, and a song or two from Blur. With a self-satisfied smirk he makes his way back to his table for his pint and maybe a bit of praise.

He takes the pint from in front of his empty seat and takes a swig. His first selection comes over the speakers and Finn looks up from his beer to his friends expectantly. He nearly spits out his first sip when he finds an unfamiliar pair of dark brown eyes looking back at him, but in a rush not to do so he ends up inhaling the liquid and has to turn away so he doesn’t cough in her face. 

Finn rubs at his chest as he finally turns back to the table, his cheeks heating with embarrassment. He can see both Archie and Chop looking away, their hands covering their mouths as their shoulders shake. Both Izzy and this woman’s mate are staring intently at Finn and the dark haired beauty. 

“Are you alright?” the woman asks, touching his forearm with her hand. 

He nods and takes another sip of his drink, hoping that it will calm his nerves enough to speak. “Sorry about tha’, think I took it down a bit too fast or summat.” 

She smiles at him. “I’m just glad that you’re OK.”

Izzy clears her throat from across the table, but Finn’s eyes are otherwise occupied. “Finn, this is Chloe,” she explains, pointing to the lighter haired woman next to her, “and this is Rae,” she tells him, motioning to the woman in front of him. 

Rae smiles at him and points to the ceiling. “This your doing, Finn?” 

“The music?” 

She nods and shuffles her feet a bit, drawing his attention down. “Yeah, I reckon it is. Who doesn’t want some Stone Roses on Christmas Eve?” he asks, perusing her body from her feet up. 

Chloe laughs from her seat next to Izzy. “Don’t see much use trying to interject ourselves into this conversation.”

Finn puffs out his cheeks, blowing out a deep breath before taking another sip from his pint. Guess he hadn’t been very sly in his quest to get a good look at her. He doesn’t regret it. He likes what he saw, likes that her bulky jumper ends right below her bum, but is still just tight enough that it doesn’t hide the curve of her hips. 

Rae looks over at her mate, her eyes opening wide and her lips pursing. This only causes Chloe to laugh harder, waving her mate away with the flick of her wrist and turning her attention to Izzy. 

Finn catches sight of the glass in Rae’s hand, which just so happens to be resting against her hip and can tell that it’s nearly empty. “Do you need another drink?”

Rae takes her last sip of the beverage and shakes the glass between them. “I’d love one, Finn.”

She follows him up to the bar and places her drink on the bartop. “Snakebite please,” she tells the worker before turning her attention back to Finn. 

“So Finn, where are you lot flying to?” she asks, resting her elbow on the bartop and turning her body towards him. The man behind her keeps bumping into her back, forcing her closer to Finn. He’d tell the bloke off if she looked the least bit bothered and to be honest he’s liking her closer. But really he can practically feel the heat of her body she’s so close and he’s really struggling to focus on much else, not when with each breath she takes her tits are brushing up against his chest. 

He clears his throat and meets her eyes. “London, but only to pick up our car and drive home. We have another 2 hours to go or so from there.” He reaches into his pocket and slides the money to the barkeep when he drops off the snakebite. “Where are you and Chloe headed?”

She takes a sip of her new drink before answering, “about 2.5 hours north of London, unless one of us needs a bit of a break of course. We’ve got another week before we have to go back to Uni, so we’ll spend it in Boston.”

“You’re joking?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Joking?”

“I’m from Stamford. How’s it possible we’re all from Lincolnshire?” he asks, motioning between the two of them and to their group at the table. 

Rae laughs and shrugs. “It really is a small world.” 

She picks up her pint and moves to make her way back to their friends, but he stops her with a hand at her elbow. “Do you want to stay over here - with me for a bit?” He’s got no idea what he’s doing, but he knows he doesn’t want to share her time with the rest of the group. 

She looks back at their friends and then to Finn before she pulls a stool out and takes a seat. “I’d like that.”

He takes another stool from under the bartop and positions it next to Rae, far enough away to not crowd her, but close enough to tell the rest of the patrons that she’s here with him. “So Uni? Where’s that?”

Rae’s knee brushes against his as she shifts in her seat. “Both Chlo and I are at Bristol, our last year actually.” She looks down at their knees, biting at the side of her bottom lip. “Are you at Uni, Finn?”

“I finished up last year. I’m back in Stamford working.”

Rae rests her elbow against the bartop, chin tucked into her palm as she looks at him. “And what do you do for work?” 

His eyes haven’t left her mouth in the last several minutes, but luckily he still hears her question. “I uh - I run the local radio station actually, “ he tells her, eyes tracking the tiny droplet of cider on her bottom lip and the tip of her tongue when she licks it off. “I’ve got a show with my mate Craig in the evening as well.”

“Well you’ve got decent taste in music from what I can tell,” she says with a smile, her grin growing as she leans forward to whisper, “ but, I bet you slip in a dodgy tune every now and then, yeah? A little ‘Babylon Zoo’ for the drive home.”

He chuckles, his head tilted forward as he drags his hand through the back of his hair. He lifts his eyes to look at her. “Can ya really classify Spaceman as dodgy?” 

Her laughter lights up her entire face and he’s grinning at the way she tips her head back and groans. “Bloody Spaceman. I had so much hope for your show until that bomb.” 

Finn lets his hand drop from his hair and onto his lap, sitting up in his seat. He decides to shoot his shot while she’s distracted and lightly touches the pads of his fingers against her legging clad knee. “Don’t judge me too harshly, yeah?” He can see and feel her leg jump at his touch, but he’s happy when she doesn’t move her knee out from under his fingers. 

He withdraws his fingers from her knee and asks, “will your family be disappointed that you won’t be home until real early in the morning?”

Rae takes a sip of her snakebite and shakes her head. “My mum and sister are in Tunisia with my step dad for another two weeks. I’ll be staying at Chloe’s.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear before placing her hands in her lap. “What about your family?”

“My da’ were a bit sad, yeah. I don’t like that he’ll be alone, but not much to be done.” 

He watches with a little smile as her thumb brushes against the side of his hand in gentle sweeps. “I’m sorry that you won’t be with him tonight.”

“What are you two lovebirds talking about?” Chop asks from next to him, throwing his arm over Finn’s shoulders. 

Finn groans and shakes his shoulders to get Chop’s arm off him. “We were talking about you, ya knobhead.”

Chop pushes his face between the pair, looks down at their hands and then up at Finn. “Only good things I hope.” He bats his eyelashes before pushing back on his heels. 

“I thought Iz was keeping you in line. What are you doing over here?” Finn asks, pushing at his friend to watch him rock backwards. 

Chop waves his hand over his shoulder. “Iz and that other woman Chlo are about 5 Hooches in each. I don’t think they’ll be controllin’ anyone, mate”

That’s all it takes for Rae to push her stool back and excuse herself to go find her friend. 

Chop is too far gone to notice Finn’s annoyance. “Do you want to go get something to eat? Arch and I are starving.”

“Sure,” Finn grumps. He finishes his pint and gets up from his seat. “Should we go see what the girls want to do?” He grabs onto Chop’s sleeve and pulls him behind him as he walks to the table. 

When they reach the table they find Izzy and Chloe grinning, their heads pressed together and facing Rae. Rae’s cheeks are pink and she’s shaking her head in response to a question Chloe has just asked her. 

Finn decides to leave them to chat, seeking out his other best mate Archie with Chop it tow. He finds Archie chatting up some bloke at the back of the pub. Archie is laughing and touching the man’s shoulder. He looks happy, so Finn decides to leave him to it.

“Let’s see if anyone else wants something, yeah?” Finn directs Chop to the table of women. 

Chop presses a wet and loud kiss against his girlfriend’s cheek and whispers something in her ear that makes her giggle like mad. 

Finn rolls his eyes at the pair and steps forwards to lean across the table. “You lot want anything to eat? Chopper over here is starvin’.”

“Some chips would be lovely, Finn,” Izzy says, her cheeks pink and eyes wide. 

Finn smiles at her before turning to Chloe. “Me too,” she tells him quickly, pushing Rae at the hip towards him, “why doesn’t Rae go with you, yeah?”

“Round of chips, I think we’ve got it.” He turns to Rae, motioning for her to step in front of him. He looks back at his mates. “I expect a beer when I get back here.”

The two make their way down the hall in search of a fast food restaurant where they can load up on chips for their friends. 

“Chlo alright?” Finn asks, bumping his shoulder against Rae’s. 

She laughs and shakes her head. “Yeah, a bit pissed but mostly she wanted to give me grief.”

He looks over at her, eyebrow raised. 

She groans and throws her head back, her pretty hair tumbling down her back. “She wanted to know what was going on with us. Fit bloke like you...with me?” She waves her hands over the front of her body. 

 Finn steers them off course and to the side of the hallway with his hand against her lower back until she’s pressed between him and the wall. He’s not pressed against her, no - doesn’t want to seem too forward, too eager to press his body to hers. 

She’s looking down at the floor, a blush coloring the apples of her cheeks and stretching to her hairline. He tips her face up with his forefinger and thumb pinched at her chin. “What do ya mean, Rae?”

Her hand wraps around his forearm, but she doesn’t tug his hand away. She looks up at him through heavy lidded eyes - he can’t tell if it’s lust or the snakebites, but he likes it. “Ignore me.”

He studies her, his front teeth dragging over his bottom lip. He wants to push it, but thinks maybe this isn’t the time or place to do it. Instead, he drops his face closer to hers, looks down at her mouth. He smiles at her little intake of air. 

“Finn.” He can smell the cider on her breath as she speaks, the faint fragrance of vanilla coming from her - he suspects her hair. 

He presses his thumb against her chin, making her bottom lip jut out. “Rae,” he says before he places a feather light kiss against that bottom lip. 

She sighs and flexes her fingers against his arm. “Do ya think we should go get the food before our mates pass out?” Her hand drops from his forearm and she blinks her eyes a couple of times, as if she’s waking up from a nap. 

His hand joins hers at their sides. “‘Spose we should.” Finn steps back, giving her space to slide by him. He grabs hold of her hand, watching her as she straightens her jumper. “To be continued?”

Rae takes his hand, pulling him towards their destination. She looks over her shoulder at him with a little grin. “To be continued.”

*****

Their friends cheer when they arrive with their food, causing quite a scene. Finn has barely put the bags of food on the table before Chop is grabbing containers and passing them around the table and shoving chips in his gob. 

Iz is looking quite green as she watches her boyfriend, her hand covering her mouth before she forces herself to look down at the table. “You OK Iz?” Finn asks, pushing some of the food in her direction. 

She gives a quick nod before she darts towards the toilet.

Rae touches the top of his hand. “Should I go check on her?”

“Would you mind?”

She gets up from the seat she’s just sat in, her fingers skimming up his forearm before she makes her way to Izzy. 

He watches her go, completely mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she walks that he barely hears Chloe say his name. He turns to her. “Yeah?”

“You can take my seat on the way back to London.”

“Wha? Your seat on the plane?” 

Chloe rolls her eyes and laughs. “Yes, of course I mean my seat on the plane. You know….the one next to Rae?”

“That’s reall--” 

“On one condition!” Chloe holds her hand up to stop him before adding, “I’m not sitting next to Chop.”

Chop, who has finally stopped eating, places both of his hands over his heart. “I’m wounded, Chlo.” 

Finn agrees to Chloe’s offer with a nod and a smile, which she returns. 

“Oi Arch, I know you’re a bit distracted, but if you don’t get your arse over here I’m going to eat the rest of ya chips,” Chop shouts over his shoulder before he opens up the last bag. 

Archie is standing next to the table in a moment, slapping Chop’s hand away from his food. “Oh no you don’t.”

Chop grins up at Archie. “I weren’t really going to eat them, ya numpty. Just wanted to give those lips of yours a break.” Chop chuckles and ducks his head out of the way of Archie’s hand.

Finn shakes his head at his friends’ antics and swipes a chip out of Archie’s hand, laughing at Archie’s answering scowl. “Sorry mate,” he says, shoving it into his mouth. 

“Prick,” Archie mutters under his breath, shoving at Finn’s shoulder.

Finn can feel her behind him as she walks back to join the group. He turns his entire body to greet her. “All right?” 

“I think she’ll be fine after she gets a bit of sleep on the plane,” Rae tells him, her pinky skimming his at his side. 

He leans in close to her, his mouth near her ear. “Chloe said that I can have her seat on the plane.” He rocks back on his heels, his head still bent and his lower lip tucked behind his teeth. “What do ya think?”

“Yes. I think yes.” 

“Flight 1508, Palma to Heathrow will be boarding in thirty minutes,” the intercom announces, drawing the group’s attention. 

“That’s it, that’s us Iz,” Chop tells Izzy, who is now tucked up against his side with her face pressed against his chest. She groans in response, shaking her head against him. 

Chloe assists Chop with getting Iz out of the seat and places the strap for her bag over one shoulder. The three of them lead the rest of the group from the pub and towards their gate with Archie running behind - as he had to say goodbye to the bloke that he was chatting up. 

The gang make it to their gate with plenty of time to spare. Finn and Rae rest their backs against the wall facing the other four who take seats near the back of the seating area, poor Iz slumping over on her boyfriend. 

Finn turns to rest his side against the wall to face Rae, not quite looking at her. “So uh - Rae, do you have any plans for New Years?”

She tucks her hair behind her ear, which quickly falls in front of her face again when she turns to look at him. “Don’t think so. Probably get some takeaway and have a drink or two with Chlo.”

He’s looking at his shoes and chewing at the frayed cuticle of his thumb and he knows he probably looks like a nervous twat when he asks, “I was hoping you might like to go out...with me?”

“Yeah, YES, yes I would.” 

[simsadventures]

Not Me: Chapter 1: Sweet, Sweet Life

Summary: You always wanted the perfect life- great husband, fulfilling job, and overall happiness. What if you can’t have even a bit of your fairytale?

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied smut, memories (in italics)

Word Count: 2074

A/N: The first ever chapter of Not Me is finally here! Im so excited about this story, and I seriously can’t wait for you all to read it. Let me know what you think so far, and what do you expect from this little story? The ride has only just started, and it will get spicier as we go along, I promise xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The sun was shining through the blinds, and you groaned loudly. Another day in your personal nightmare. You tried to snuggle into the pillows harder, willing your sleep to come again and take you for at least another few hours, so that you wouldn’t have to face the world. And by the world, you meant your husband, James.

Just the thought of him made a shiver run down your spine, and not the good kind. You didn’t even know how you got to that position. There used to be times when James was all you could think of.

You were at high school together, buddies, thanks to your fathers owning a publishing company together. You were a freshman, and he was a senior, but that didn’t stop you from spending a lot of time together. You used to piss off your fathers too often for your own good, whenever there was a banquet or some other fancy shit, you and Bucky would always find a way to make it at least a bit enjoyable for the two of you.

You had each other to hold on to, and that was enough. You both went to a different university, Bucky attending Yale, while you went to Brown. It was during this time that you grew apart, having different goals in life, and life choices as well. But your crush was still strong as ever at that time.

James had this ability to draw people to them. You could even pinpoint the exact thing that made him so charming because there were so many of them. His eyes, his deep, gruff voice, his physique, which would get any girl to her knees, or his charm. But you knew he wasn’t interested in you that way.

While you saw Bucky partying every second possible, you were more the studying type. Not that you didn’t have your fair share of wild parties, making you wake up in Canada instead of your home. But you were a passionate reader and student, and so when the crucial times came, you knew how to use your brain. And form what you heard, with Bucky’s party habits, he had to pay somebody to take all his exams. That was the only plausible option in your mind.

You only saw each other during summers, when you both worked for Barnes&Clark, your fathers’ company. And while Bucky was much more interested in all the sexy secretaries, you were impressed by all it entailed to be a businesswoman. You sat with Mr Barnes and your father in their meetings, they even seemed to listen to you while you spoke about your ideas of new ways of getting books to young people.

It was close to your graduation that your life turned completely, and, at the time, you thought for the better.

There was a knock on your door, and you frowned. It was Thursday evening, and you weren’t expecting anyone. What was even weirder that the person was already in the building, without ringing the bell from the front door. You cautiously went and looked through the peep-hole, only to be utterly surprised.

You opened the door, a confused frown on your face.

“Bucky. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked him, stepping aside, to let him inside.

He didn’t say anything, just stepped in and waited for you to take him further inside your apartment. When you led you to the sofa and sat down, you raised your eyebrows, indicating that he really should start explaining what it was he wanted.

“Look, Y/N. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve been thinking, recently, and I reached a decision in which, I hope, you’ll support me.”

You still didn’t say anything, not sure where he was going with it. You haven’t heard from him in months, and so it was peculiar as to why he suddenly came knocking on your door.

Without any other word, he got on his knee and pulled out a white velvet box from his pocket. Your eyes were suddenly the size of a cartoon character, and you were pretty sure they now occupied most of your face.

“W-what? Bucky are you drunk? Or are you fatally ill? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, on the verge of a mental breakdown. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, you liked him and sure, you did try to write Y/N Barnes a few too many times before. But you were both young, 24 and 27 years old, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for marriage.

“I prioritise doll. I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. I know you have been single for far too long, and you’re never comfortable around any other guy than me. I’ve had my fair share of fun, and now I’m ready to settle down. And with whom better than you? We used to be best friends, and I think you never really grow from that kind of bond. Just think about it, will you?”

You were looking in those icy blue eyes, and for a weird reason, you saw the desperation in them and a hint of anger. You couldn’t be too sure, because you haven’t seen him for so long, but he had one thing right. You never really grow out of that bond. You thought he did, but obviously, he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“I’ll need some time, and I think we should spend some time together if you want to marry me, don’t you think?”

A flash of something you weren’t able to recognise ran through his face, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and you weren’t really sure what it was.

“Sure, can I stay tonight and we can watch a movie, or something, huh?” He asked, without a hint of a smile, and you enthusiastically nodded. After all, this was something you dreamed of quite often, to be completely honest.

It went like this for a while, you and Bucky spending evenings together, and after one particularly fun evening, full of gin and tonics and tangled sheets, you finally gave him your answer.

“I will marry you Bucky, if it’s still something you want, I think we could be really good together,” you whispered against his naked chest, laying almost on top of him in your bed. He hummed, patted your shoulder and got up from the bed.

You looked at him confused, trying to determine if you said something wrong, but he only pulled the velvet box out of the pants that were laying abandoned on the floor and slipped the massive diamond ring on your finger.

“Good. Now sleep so we can plan the damn thing,” he said in a hushed voice, got dressed, and left you laying on the bed, naked and exhausted from the amazing sex you just had, confused as hell.

And that’s how your marriage pretty much started. Despite Bucky leaving that day, you were pretty excited about the whole ordeal, and so was your and Bucky’s family. The only unexcited party seemed to be Bucky, but you thought it was just his face, nothing serious.

But after a year of marriage, you realised that it probably wasn’t just his face. When he was around his Uni friends or his colleagues, his demeanour changed drastically.

He was joyful and funny, and always the life of the party. But when you two were alone, he was brooding and looked pissed 99% of the time.

You thought you’d have everything you ever wished for. Happy family, amazing husband, and a dream job. But things aren’t always the way we want them.

Your amazing husband rarely ever spoke to you, and when he did, it was to point out a flaw on you.

You shouldn’t talk so loudly. Your language isn’t lady-like. I don’t like it when you wear sweatpants, I think you should look nice even at home. This steak isn’t medium-rare. This make-up is too much. Stand and be pretty. Blah blah blah.

You tried to do all he said, trying to be the best wife for him, because you still had the idea of Bucky loving you, and wanting to spend his life with you. But every sentence like this created a gash in your heart, and by the first anniversary, you thought your heart was just a shredded piece of muscle, unable to function any more.

What broke you down to your knees, was, however, a different kind of message, delivered to you by Bucky and your father.

“James will lead the company, he has most of the rights to Barnes&Clark, and we think it would be great if you were a stay-at-home wife like you were supposed to be from the very beginning. Look, Y/N, you are a woman, and those shouldn’t be heads of the company. You understand that, don’t you?”

You were in total and complete shock. He trained you your whole life, to be the CEO, or at least the head of the publishing, while somebody else would take care of the numbers. But now he was telling you that your dream was vanishing right in front of your eyes.

“But, but, dad, I thought you-“

“How about you stop thinking and just be a pretty thing, sweetie?” Your father asked you mockingly, and to your utter surprise, Bucky laughed as well, patting your father’s shoulder.

You wanted to run away in tears, because every time you tried to speak up, either your father or Bucky would shush you. By the time the meeting ended, your eyes were filled with tears, but you didn’t want either of the men seeing this weak side of yours.

When you left the company’s building with Bucky by your side, you were shaking with both sadness and anger.

“Are you seriously with him on that, Bucky?” You asked, desperation evident in your voice. But the look Bucky gave you made you regret that you even asked him anything.

“Of course, I agree with him. You have to take care of our household, and not be busy with business. Oh, and, by the way, I would prefer it if you called me James, from now on.”

It felt like he pushed a dagger deep inside your guts. He let everyone call him Bucky, he would always say that it just felt better when the people around him called him Bucky. And now he wanted you, his wife, to call him James?

You sighed again and sat up in your bed. Ever since you moved in, you had separate bedrooms, James telling you he needed his rest to run the company. And even if you wanted to protest in the very beginning, you gave up. Like on many things in your life at the moment.

You used to have dreams, you used to be ambitious, but this life took everything from you. You rarely ever had sex with James- he would always tell you how tired he was and that you should be tired as well. And if you weren’t, it meant you weren’t doing enough through the day.

You learned how to cook, how to bake, how to sew, how to have the perfect garden, but it still wasn’t impressive enough for James to spare a kind word for you.

And neither did you father. He would always only remind you to be a good wife to James and to leave the rest to the men, and by your first anniversary, you believed all of those things, your self-respect pretty much non-existing.

You got up from the bed and headed towards the closet, to put on something representative to not give James any reason to pester you. You took a quick shower and put on some make-up, knowing full well that James was against the natural beauty look. You put on high-waisted wide pants and a blouse, trying no to look too shabby even if you were only going down to the kitchen to make James a breakfast.

When you came into the kitchen, he was already there, sitting by the table, reading news on his phone. He didn’t even spare you a look, and you sighed, walking towards the kitchen isle. It would be just another day in your hell, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Or, at least, you thought you couldn’t.

/Next Chapter >

Not Me:

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[eemeelyy]

Request: could u pls do harry x actress reader. So basically harry and y/n started working on a romance movie and they start to fall in love. The movie premire is in italy and harry and y/n spend there time together having fun and swimming in their villa hiding there relationship from the public. fast forward to the award nominations. y/n gets a call at midnight saying she is nominated for best actress at the oscars. Harry is so happy for her. fast forward ti the oscars harry is presenting the award to best actress. y/n is scared that she might not win. But harry calls her name and she gets her oscar. harry and y/n are so happy they share a kiss forgetting that they have a private relationship from the public. The crowd shares ‘awwwwww’ and y/n gives her speach. Later is the after party and all her actor friends congratulate her. Harry and y/n spend the night dancing and kissing - @www-imbored-com

Real-life love interest

I did not take this role because Harry fucking Styles was gonna play my love-interest. I took this role because the script was great. There were so many rom-coms out there. Girl meets boy. Girl and boy fall in love. Something shitty happens so they part ways but it was all a misunderstanding and they find their way back to each other. I would have never taken a role in a generic movie like that. This one had all the ups and downs, characters with a proper personality.

I never even really watched rom-coms. Or romantic dramas while we’re at it. So, who knows, maybe this was a generic film and I just didn’t know because I knew that little about romantic movies. 

The first time I met Harry was at the first table read. He sat on my right and when I sat down he grinned up at me brightly. He waited for me to be seated and smile back at him before he extended his hand. I shook it.

„Hi there. I’m Harry. Big fan“, he smiled, „I’m really happy about this. I mean getting to play your love interest. The (Y/N) (Y/L/N)? Pretty much the only reason I got into acting.“

I chuckled. „You’re joking, right? By the time I started acting you were already an international rockstar.“

„That’s not entirely true, love. You were big when I was a kid. You were the reason I became obsessed with tv. So thanks for ruining my marks back then“, he chuckled to let me know he was joking.

„I’m terribly sorry, sweetie, that must have been so tough for you“, I feigned pity but then went back to smiling brightly, „I took a longer break to get my A-levels. And then I went to uni because I thought I wanted a degree in acting but then I realized I’m better at learning by doing, so here we are.“

„I guess your awards and credentials speak for themselves.“

We both laughed a bit at that and then got to work. The majority of the film was made in a little city in southern Italy. There wasn’t a lot going on there and most of the inhabitants were some older people who had no idea what was going on. It was great getting to work without the entire world getting updates and showing up on set. I stayed in a beautiful little hotel by the coast and, as it turned out, so did Harry. It wasn’t much of a surprise though because there weren’t a lot of other options around. 

The entire hotel was already occupied by just the two of us and some members of the crew who didn’t stay in trailers. We’d spend many evenings and some mornings together before and after we worked. Our schedules were similar so that worked wonderfully. Around two weeks after we started filming we were sitting in the adjacent restaurant by our hotel. We shared a rather large pizza and drank some Lambrusco while we just talked.

„You’ve got to be kidding. You can’t be in a romantic film when you never watched them. And, goodness sake, you can’t say you don’t like them if you’ve never seen them“, he told me with wide eyes.

„I mean I’ve watched some. My mum loves them. But it’s just so cringy. That’s not how relationships happen!“

„So? That’s the point. I picked up all my flirting techniques from those films.“

„Oh, so, that’s why you’re single“, I laughed.

He feigned being hurt before he spoke up again. „Tell you what. We have a late start tomorrow and it’s still early. I’m going to pay this bill now and then I’ll take you up to my room and I’ll show you what’s so great about romantic films.“

„Sounds like a plot line to one of those films“, I chuckled.

He smirked and wiggled his eyebrow before he waved at the waiter to show him he wanted to pay.

„I’m paying tomorrow then, you can’t just keep inviting me or I’ll genuinely start believing I’m stuck in a romance film.“

He winked at me just as he put down the money, including a rather generous tip, and downed the rest of his wine. I did the same to my glass and then we headed back up to his room. Some clothes were scattered on the floor and the bed wasn’t made. The door to the bathroom was slightly open and I could see that it looked pretty clean compared to the main room. Other than that it looked pretty much exactly like mine.

Harry scurried in before you could get too much of an impression though, quickly gathering all of the clothes into his arms and throwing them in the open suitcase before shutting it. He grinned at me awkwardly and taking a hint I excused myself to my room quickly to change into some comfortable clothes and freshen up a bit. When I came back in pajamas, a fluffy robe, slippers and my hair in a messy bun his room looked really presentable and he was wearing an outfit similar to mine, with his hair clipped back and without slippers. 

He had set up his laptop on the coffee table and thrown some blankets and pillows onto the couch. I smiled and sat down.

„I’m going to ease you into this. Let us not start with my favourites“, he told me and put on Sleepless in Seattle.

„That’s my mum’s favourite“, I told him with a smirk.

„See, this would not happen in a film. In a romantic film your mum and I would coincidentally love all the same things that you don’t like and then she’d like me more than you“, he told me and chuckled.

„Oh, good thing we’re not in a film then because if my mum loved you more than me this wouldn’t work out“, I said before realizing what I’d just said, „Not that we would work out, we’re just friends, right? I mean, I guess our characters have great chemistry and so per association so do we but that’s it.“

He interrupted you with a laugh. „You’re acting like a character in the films. Now zip it and listen to the magic of Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan falling in love.“

It was just a couple minutes past eleven when the film was over and both of us were pretty tired by the end, subconsciously leaning against one another and yawning. I pushed myself up just as the credits started rolling and stretched a bit.

„Okay, maybe I liked that“, I admitted.

„Maybe tomorrow we should totally watch You’ve Got Mail“, he replied.

We kept that routine up and watched a new romantic film almost every night if we weren’t too tired or had too little time in between shots anyway. We’d been working together for nearly four months when he finally showed me his favourite film The Notebook. I had to admit at that point that I had liked all the films thus far. It was a Saturday evening, nearly ten pm, when we met in his room. The next day we didn’t have any work so we weren’t too worried about sleep.

I fell asleep halfway through the film. Harry was too wrapped up in the film to notice. He never woke me up. Instead I woke up the next morning. It was almost eight and Harry and I were cuddled up on the couch. I didn’t know if he also fell asleep during the film or if he did this intentionally but I got up and stretched before I turned back to him and looked at his adorable sleeping face.

His eyebrows scrunched together and he rolled himself into himself before he stretched back out and blinked his eyes open. „Good morning“, I said quietly when he smiled at me.

„Did you like it?“, he asked.

„I don’t know. I fell asleep, sorry.“

He pouted and rolled back up. „Then I don’t wanna get up until we’ve watched that film entirely and you tell me you’re in love with Ryan Gosling.“

I laughed. „I’m in love with Rachel McAdams. That good, too? She was in that film from the other night. About Time. That was a good one. Or Mean Girls. Or Doctor Strange. Or many other films I can’t think of right now.“

I went to the window and opened it. „Do you hear that, Harry? You can’t ignore the growing desire to jump into the ocean.“

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, listening to the waves below. Then I heard Harry sigh. „I’ll get my swim trunks.“

I smiled brightly and took off to get my own bathing suit. We hurried downstairs and ran into the ocean. It was great. We just swam and splashed around for a few minutes before he dove into the water and came back out right in front of me.

„Have we watched Dirty Dancing?“, he asked.

I giggled. „Yes.“

„Wanna do that?“, he asked and stretched his arms into the air.

„Absolutely not. That didn’t end so well in the film and it won’t end well here. Remember how much practice we needed for the dance scene? No.“

He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me closer. „I have used all the tricks on the screen, (Y/N), help me out here“, he whispered.

I smirked before I lunged at him and wrapped myself around him, smashing my lips against his. „Tell me the plot twist of our story, Harry“, I whispered against his lips.

„We’re past plot twists, love. The plot twist was this.“

I grinned and went back to kissing him.

We spent even more time together after that. The filming was finished two months later and we had to spend a little over one of those back in England. I spent most of that time at Harry’s place. Some of it at my own but our relationship moved pretty quickly. Two weeks after we’d wrapped filming we were back at my apartment, Harry going through my bookshelves as I packed up my clothes. I was going to move into his place since that was where I spent most of my time anyway. When I came out of my walk-in-closet Harry was standing in front of my bedroom window.

„It’s raining“, he said.

„Obviously, darling, we’re in England“, I chuckled.

„But in Italy it only rained one day out of them all“, he pouted, falling onto my stripped bed.

„Have you packed up all the books?“, I asked, flopping down next to him.

I put a hand on his chest and looked up at him. He nodded. „We should go back.“

„To Italy?“, I asked with a playful expression.

„Yeah. We don’t have anywhere to be for the next few months until the premiere. Which is in Italy. So we’ll just go there and wait for the premiere, all in the privacy of some rental home. And then we can go back to our hectic lives in rainy England“, he explained.

I thought about it for a minute. He was right, it did sound heavenly. „Let’s finish this up, okay? And then we can look up a place to stay back there.“

I’d just gotten settled in Harry’s place a week later and now we were packing up again to leave for Italy.

„You still haven’t made it through The Notebook“, he told me on the plane.

„And I probably never will, love, I made it through all the other films. Please give that one up for now. I will still find Ryan Gosling terribly attractive“, I replied.

„No, that was only fine to say before we were an item, darling. Now Ryan Gosling is kinda handsome, at the most. And I am the epitome of attractiveness“, he said, raising his chin with pride.

I laughed. „I can’t agree, that would be poison to your ego. But do know I love you more than Ryan Gosling.“

„Good enough“, he laughed, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to it.

Over the next few weeks we watched more films, we swam, we strolled around and just enjoyed each other’s presence. The day of the premiere came around and we took a train to Rome where it would be happening. We didn’t see each other all day, getting styled and dressed up. 

I wore a pale blue dress that flowed down my body and hugged it in all the right places ending just around my ankles so my white ballerinas were visible. When we finally met on the red carpet I saw Harry wearing a suit in a similar shade (I’m imagining the suit from the Variety shoot). We posed together for a bit, not giving anything away about our relationship and the went to the screening.

After everything had gone amazingly we had to go press touring together. It was only a couple weeks. We didn’t attend a lot of interviews and tried to squeeze them closely together so we could get back home. 

It was three months after the film’s release, early January, when I woke up from my rather light slumber because my phone was vibrating on the bedside table. I picked it up without looking at the caller ID.

„Hello?“, I groaned.

„(Y/N), it’s Doug“, my agent said, „Shit, I’m sorry, it must be the middle of the night over there. But you’Re nominated for an Oscar.“

„I’m- sorry, what?“, I wasn’t quite grasping what he was saying since I was still half asleep.

„You’re nominated for an Oscar, (Y/N), I’ll send you an e-mail with all the details, I just wanted to hear you when you got the news. And I gotta say, this is underwhelming. Anyway, sleep tight, call me back when you’re awake.“

Then he hung up and I went back to sleep almost immediately.

Still, in February, Harry and I went to the Oscars and I had now realized that I was nominated. Even through all his reassurances I wasn’t entirely certain about everything. Would I win? And if I didn’t would I be able to mask my disappointment? Would I feel happy for the winner?

„Fuck, (Y/N), stop worrying. I’m about 98% sure you’ll win. And the other two percent was just me being too nice to not wish the other nominees all the best as well. I have to be unbiased after all. And if - big if - you don’t win, it’ll still be an honour just to be nominated. You’ve been gushing about the others for so long now, even I’m annoyed.“

Harry would be presenting the award which would make it even more awesome to win. We showed up at the ceremony together, posing together, walking together, starting all the rumours without giving anything away again.

Soon, it was time for Harry and Saoirse Ronan to go on stage together and present the award. They talked about the category and the nominees, we were presented, clips were played and then Saoirse opened the envelope.

„And the Oscar goes to…“, she started, before looking at Harry to say the name together.

„(Y/N) (Y/L/N)“

The smile on my face grew and a few tears slipped from my eyes as I made my way to the stage being welcomed into Saoirse’s arms first before Harry bear hugged me so tightly I thought he’d never let me go.

„Wow, thank you, oh my god“, I started, looking at the award in my hand, „I hope we didn’t waste too much of my speech time hugging it out“, I laughed, the audience joining me, „I want to thank so many people so please don’t hate me if I forget you, I can’t hear myself over the beating of my heart. But I want to thank everyone who worked on this film. Patty Jenkins, you most incredible director, first and foremost. I want to thank my mum and dad, they’re great, I wouldn’t be here without them, literally. And Harry, my wonderful on-screen-love-interest, my real-life-love-interest, fuck, I love you so much, this is incredible. They say I should wrap it up now so, uh, thank you, do come up to me and scold me later if I forgot to thank you.“

After that night the internet blew up. I hadn’t even noticed that I’d just come public about our relationship. But as we were dancing the night away we couldn’t care less.

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (21) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: omg i’m emotional. guys, welcome to the last chapter of n19f. this fic has been the absolute best fun to write and i truly love these girls and the journey they’ve been on so much. big big huge thanks and love to every single person that’s ever left a note, hit reblog or left me lovely anons, DMs, comments or tags, they’ve all meant the absolute world to me and i love u so much. obviously i can’t let things go, so keep an eye out for some form of sequel coming in the next few months or so (patience is a virtue xo). for one last time…….let’s go, lesbians!!!!!!!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

tw: bit of weed in this one. no zoos, dw xo

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the girls all went to the beach, Scarlet and Yvie made plans for after uni, and Scarlet got the degree classification she so desperately wanted.

this chapter: it’s Brooke’s graduation day.

***

Brooke looked around at the chaos that was their kitchen. The kitchen utensils (which were all Nina’s that she and Yvie had shamelessly used as if they were their own over the 2 years they’d lived together) were wrapped up in bubble wrap and packed neatly into cardboard boxes which sat on top of the dining table. Yvie’s kitchenware- a blue bowl with a chip out of it, a huge white plate, a Tigger mug, and a mismatched fork, knife and spoon- had been inelegantly packed into an orange Sainsbury’s bag and left on the counter. Brooke had already packed up her own belongings and had moved them into a corner of her room so they wouldn’t take up space in the already-tiny kitchen. All their store cupboard food was in the process of being packed up for the foodbank, which was inevitably going to be flooded with the discarded super noodles, tinned soups and flavoured teas of the migrating tenants of student flats.

Yvie let out a snort from her position in front of their food cupboards, and Brooke’s heart gave a twinge at seeing them so empty. Top shelf had been hers: pasta, rice, stock cubes, and emergency maple syrup tin. The middle shelf was Nina’s: loaf of white bread, tins of tuna, ryvita, breadsticks, crisps. And Yvie’s food had occupied the bottom shelf: chocolate digestives, Ainsely Harriott cous cous, peanut butter, and sour patch kids. All gone. Except, Brooke noticed, for a jar of Marmite which had sat on the middle shelf and that Yvie was holding in her hand.

“Whose was the Marmite?” she asked, an amused tone to her voice. Nina shrugged from her position on the sofa.

“I’ve never once eaten Marmite.”

“It’s on your shelf, girl,” Yvie shrugged, her eyebrows questioning. Nina gave another shrug.

“I know. It’s always lived there. I swear to God it just turned up one day and I left it there. Thought it was one of yours because Christ knows you’re both too lazy to put it on your own damn shelves,” Nina reprimanded them both. Brooke laughed.

“You know you’re going to regret being so mean to us when you don’t live with us any more and we’re adults and it takes 9 months to clear our schedules for one singular coffee,” she raised her eyebrows at her flatmate as Nina pouted and let out a groan, held out her arms for a hug which Brooke fell into.

“Don’t! This is already too heartbreaking, I can’t believe we only have two days left here.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually organised with this moving out process.”

“I can’t believe we have a phantom jar of Marmite that nobody’s claiming,” Yvie piped up, peering at the jar with interest. “Brooke, you like this shit, right?”

“Marmite is Satan’s black fecal matter and I’m offended you think I eat it,” she deadpanned, shifting to get comfy in Nina’s lap whilst attempting to be as inconvenient as possible to her friend.

“Get the hell off me. Only my girlfriend is allowed to sit on me for so long that I lose feeling in my legs,” Nina huffed, shoving at Brooke until she relented and sat beside her. It didn’t stop her from putting her cold feet on her bare thigh though, and Nina hissed and jumped away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to miss either of you idiots at all.”

“You’re a crap liar,” Yvie smiled smugly, binning the Marmite and joining the two girls on the sofa, squeezing in between them both. “Awh, guys…it’s the end of an era.”

Brooke suddenly felt tears prick at her eyes out of nowhere. “Shut up. We’ve still got tomorrow and the next day.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow you’re gonna be doing graduation-y shit and then it’s moving day!” Nina protested. Her voice grew small, dropping to a murmur. “It’s kind of like it’s our last day.”

The girls fell silent. Yvie let out a huge puff of air from her lungs. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I’m gonna miss you girls so fucking much.”

“Awh, Yves. I’ll miss you too,” Nina sighed, burying her face into Yvie’s shoulder and curling her arms around one of Yvie’s. “But this is good! Change is good, even if it’s scary and different. And you’re gonna be living with Scarlet! That’s exciting!”

“How’s the flat hunting going?” Brooke asked Yvie, who had a little smile on her face. Brooke didn’t know if Yvie knew that she always began to smile a little whenever Scarlet was mentioned. She wasn’t going to mention it to her. She would maybe mention it to Scarlet.

“Like I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Yvie groaned, running her hands down her face. “It’ll be fine, though. We’ve got a while. Her lease isn’t up until August so we’ve got a few weeks to keep looking and in the meantime I’ll just stay with her in that Dickensian death trap she calls a flat.”

The girls let out a laugh, Brooke resting her head on Yvie’s shoulder too. There was a small silence.

“At least you and Monet are sorted,” Yvie spoke again, Nina nodding in agreement. Buoyed by how well Yvie’s suggestion to Scarlet had been received, Nina had been determined not to fuck up another relationship milestone with Monet and had asked her to move in with her as well. The answer had been an emphatic yes, and the pair of them had used their terrifying teacher-levels of organisation skills to find a cute two-bed flat in a nicer, only slightly more expensive part of the city. They both knew their relationship was still new and fragile, so they’d agreed a room each was a good idea to give them their space when they each needed to work or wanted a bit of time on their own to simply do nothing. Brooke knew the two girls were joined at the hip though so they probably didn’t need that sort of contingency plan, but it was a sensible decision nonetheless.

“I can’t wait to get the keys and just vomit up a bunch of fairy lights and candles in every possible room,” she beamed, excitement radiating out of every pore. “It’s going to be so fun- we’re going to take turns cooking, and build pillow forts, and blast our songs on a Sunday morning and clean the whole place-”

“Fuck. Adulthood’s fully got you. Brooke, quick, if we run we can still save ourselves,” Yvie deadpanned, Nina giving her a whack as Brooke laughed.

“I personally can’t wait to go round and visit at every available opportunity. I’m going to move in,” Brooke smiled, and Nina gave another sad kicked-puppy pout.

“I wish. Canada is so far away,” she sighed, a little knife going through Brooke’s heart at the thought of moving back. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was just inevitable. It was happening, and it was fact. She was going back to Canada. She didn’t really know what she was doing, she hadn’t found herself a flat, and she didn’t have a job to earn money and pay the rent with even if she had, so she was flying home.

She really didn’t want to think about leaving. She didn’t want to think about leaving the city, constantly busy with tourists and families and drunk students and Very Important Working Adults. She didn’t want to think about leaving the park, with the cherry blossom trees that lined every path and fond memories of barbecues and picnics and drinking in the sun with the girls. She didn’t want to think about leaving uni- because as stressful as all hell her degree had been, she’d loved studying fashion design, loved making prototypes, loved learning about something she loved, even though her degree was fuck all use to her trying to get an actual job. She didn’t want to think about leaving the flat: the shower with its drippy head, the hob with the one gas burner that didn’t work, the carpet in her room with the incongruous red faded stain, the fucking Sports Direct mug. The girls that she loved so much her heart felt sore if she thought too much about it: Nina singing obnoxiously early as she got ready for placement, Yvie making the kitchen into a war zone trying new recipes, the ridiculous squabbles they got into about the washing up, pre-pre-drinks where they shared a bottle of pink Gordon’s and splashed mixers into their mismatched glasses and sang along to Ariana Grande at the top of their lungs.

Tears stung at her eyes again, and she swallowed the big lump in her throat to shoo them away. It was too late though, as Nina had seen her glassy eyes and reached over to hug her. Her own voice was thick with tears as she spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she let out a shaky breath, Brooke giving up the fight as she felt her own tears drop down onto her hoodie. “Change is good…but it’s shit.”

“Fuck you both, I’m not crying,” Yvie said, her breathing all shuddery and letting them both know that was a lie. The girls all sat and held each other as they wept quietly, mourning the death of their student careers and this life they’d lived for three years that they’d all too often taken for granted.

Brooke was the first to dry her tears, giving one decisive sniff and sweeping under both her eyes with determination. “Right. I’m putting a stop to this, we’re not spending our kind-of last night in the flat sitting crying like a bunch of babies. We’re going to order food, get high as St Peter’s balls and watch shitty game shows that make us yell at the TV. Okay?”

She was happy that Yvie and Nina both snorted a weepy laugh and nodded at her. “Okay.”

And the three girls did just what Brooke had suggested. There was, however, bickering about where they should order from. Yvie wanted sushi from the tiny little place tucked away in a back street that did bento boxes with prawn katsu and salmon maki which were like little rice parcels of heaven. Nina wanted Chinese from their favourite takeaway that delivered from out in the suburbs and where, for about fifteen points all in, you could get a banquet of sweet and sour chicken in sticky red sauce, crispy golden salt and chilli chips with huge red jewels of chilli and slices of garlic, chicken fried rice in a rich Cantonese gravy which bound everything together and chow mein with soft spring onion slices and huge chunks of onions all tossed in soy sauce. Brooke’s selection won in the end though as her argument was the strongest- “I might not taste any of this again, Canada is a long fucking journey, okay?!”- so they ordered burritos and chips and salsa from the incredibly-overpriced-but-worth-it burrito bar on campus. They finished the last of the weed that had been wrapped in tin foil and cling film and shoved to the back of the broom cupboard along with the bong, and they made horrifying cocktails from the dregs of their leftover spirits and mixers. The burritos arrived and they stuck Challenge TV on and shouted at the Catchphrase contestants who couldn’t get the most obvious fucking catchphrases Brooke had ever seen in her life.

The evening was perfect.

They talked about Brooke’s graduation tomorrow, Nina and Yvie both saying how proud they were of her. Brooke was glad she had the girls, since her Mum’s flight over to see her graduate had been cancelled because of freak winds back in Canada. Brooke had already cried to her over facetime about it, but Yvie had managed to find the link to the livestream that was only meant to be shown on campus, and she’d sent Brooke’s Mum the link so Brooke knew she would be watching even if she couldn’t properly be there. As soon as they’d heard the news, the girls had all agreed on the group chat to set up camp in the union and watch the livestream (as Brooke and Plastique would be graduating at the same ceremony) and then take photos with them both afterwards outside the great hall as if they were a gaggle of proud Mums. Even though it wouldn’t be what she’d planned, Brooke was still looking forward to it.

It was around midnight before Brooke took herself off to bed, and just as she got cosy underneath the duvet her phone lit up with a notification. She couldn’t help the smile that involuntarily shot to her face when she realised it was Vanessa.

V: hey what’s ya fav Kanye West album mine is GRADUATION!!!!!!! How you feelin about tomorrow boo? xxxxxx

Brooke let out a laugh, muffling it too late with her hand when it came out louder than expected. Christ, she loved the girl so much.

B: Kanye West is a misogynist pig and i won’t stand for him xxxxxx

B: Stronger is a bop though xxxxxx

V: You got that one right xxxxxx

B: And I’m good! Big jumble of feelings. Big happy/sad vibes xxxxxx

V: I know it’s bittersweet af xxxxxx

V: Me n Scar just held each other and cried once the ceremony was over xxxxxx

Vanessa and Scarlet had graduated last week, as had their other friends. Brooke and Plastique’s graduation date was the latest and so they were graduating last. She didn’t mind that, though. The longer she could stay being a student the better.

B: Lol we just had a big cry as a full flat xxxxxx

V: Don’t lmao idk what we gonna be like when our lease is up xxxxxx

Brooke scrolled up and looked at all the texts they’d exchanged from the past two months, the same signature of six kisses at the end of them all. They hadn’t really spoken about where they were relationship-wise since the night in the library. Maybe Vanessa didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best. Brooke’s heart hurt as she realised she was going to be on the other side of the world in a matter of days, and maybe Vanessa didn’t want to see her ever again. She frowned at her own thoughts before tears had a chance to start welling in her eyes again. It had been good to truly get back to where she’d been before with Vanessa- just texting random garbage, having deep chats about the future, being ever-so-slightly flirty with each other. She thought about confronting the issue head on over text, but it wasn’t the medium through which to have that kind of conversation.

As if Vanessa could read her mind, however, another text came through.

V: When do you fly back again? 20th? xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart felt sore.

B: 12th xxxxxx

V: oh right

Brooke’s pulse froze at the lack of kisses. Her fingers ghosted over her screen, trying to figure out what to type. Vanessa sorted the problem for her.

V: fuck I wish you weren’t leaving xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart swelled up then popped. Was this the time? No. But their time was running out, she knew that much. Maybe she could see her before she left. She’d see her after her graduation anyway.

B: I wish I wasn’t either xxxxxx

B: But you’re coming tomorrow yeah? Xxxxxx

V: Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby xxxxxx

Fuck, she would miss her so much. She’d already told Vanessa how much she meant to her, just how fucking incredible she was in every way, and yet Brooke felt like doing it again.

She didn’t, because it would be too weird. But she wanted to more than anything.

V: You gonna look so beautiful and clever tomorrow I just know it xxxxxx

Brooke smiled to herself, blushing on her own at the compliment. Vanessa seemed to be firing risky texts to her left right and centre, so Brooke took a risk of her own.

B: Not as beautiful as you xxxxxx

She almost threw her phone away once she’d sent it. A reply came back almost instantly.

V: Stop with the lies xxxxxx

She was leaving in two days so she sent another risky one, caution truly pissed into the wind.

B: You’re honestly the most beautiful girl in the world xxxxxx

At that point Brooke put her phone face down on her bedside table and decided to sleep, her heart full of butterflies and her thoughts filled with the ridiculously massive crush she had on the girl she’d been idiotic enough to let go the first time.

When Brooke woke up, her phone was blowing up with messages. The one she checked first was from Vanessa in reply to the one she’d sent last night, and was simply a series of heart eye emojis. The next one she opened was a text from her Mum, paragraphs of pride and love for her daughter that made Brooke want to cry already. The others were all from the chat- Silky, Akeria, Vanessa, Scarlet, Yvie and Nina all spamming it with messages of luck and love for her and Plastique, and promising they’d be watching the screen and waiting outside for them when the ceremony was done.

Brooke got ready in a dream-like haze. She took her smart black tailored dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging for the past month, the garment more ready for graduating than she was. She showered then dried her hair, curling it and brushing out so it made waves down her back. She put on her makeup- browns and nudes with only the tiniest bit of highlight. When she stepped into her dress and heels and looked at herself in front of the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.

She looked like an adult. A woman with her life stretching out in front of her, ready to be whatever she made of it.

Brooke phoned a taxi- it was raining just a little, even though it was already July- and pulled on a smart black coat when she saw it pull up outside, dashing carefully down the steps of the stairwell and out into the new day.

Graduation wasn’t til 11, but Brooke had arranged to meet up with Plastique beforehand anyway, just so they could be excited together. When Brooke pulled up at the taxi rank outside the square and the huge ceremony hall, she could see Plastique and her Mum there already, standing bickering amongst the growing gaggle of students and families. The sight only hurt Brooke a bit, until she remembered the girls would all be watching, and her Mum would be watching too no matter how far away. It would, after all, be about one and a half hours of waiting for Brooke to walk across the stage, take a scroll and shake a hand, and then it would all be over.

It was scary to think that that was all that was separating her and the adult world.

Trying not to get too deep and to instead just enjoy the day, Brooke excitedly paid the driver and dashed out of the taxi, Plastique spotting her running towards her and giving an excited squeal. She opened her arms out for a hug which Brooke crashed into.

“Bitch! How are you!” Plastique cried, Brooke only squeezing her tightly in response. “I’m so excited! And sad. And excited! And emotional.”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Brooke teased, Plastique laughing as she stepped out of the hug and gestured to her Mum, dressed very glamorously in a blue dress, blue heels and a pink fascinator. The occasion didn’t really call for it but Plastique’s Mum was always one to embrace the potential glamour in every situation, and so she had gone all out.

“You’ve met my Mum, right?” Plastique smiled. Brooke nodded and waved her a hello. She’d met her once at their second year showcase, the woman keeping her in stitches with her hilarious stories.

“I have! Nice to see you again, Alyssa.”

Alyssa, throwing formalities out of the window, instead pulled Brooke into a crushing hug. “And you too, my angel! Awh, Lord, ‘Tique told me all about your Mama’s flight. My heart is absolutely breakin’ for you, honey. I would’ve sent a plane over for her but nobody’s flying out of there come hell or high water.”

Brooke suppressed a laugh, finding it unbelievable that “I’ll just get her a plane” was on Alyssa’s list of options. “It’s okay Alyssa. Thank you, though. She’s going to watch the live stream, Yvie hooked her up with a link.”

“Well I’ll be your Mama just for today, girl. I am so proud of you both!” Alyssa cried, putting both her hands on Plastique’s shoulders and sighing. “Look at my intelligent daughter, out here gettin’ degrees and lookin’ so beautiful at the same time.”

Plastique smiled at her Mum lovingly, the two of them sharing one last hug before she and Brooke took themselves off to pick up their robes. It was surreal actually wearing the gown, all billowing and black, and helping each other fix their hoods, light blue with fringes of pink. They went to get their graduation photos taken, Brooke surprised that they were given a prop degree to hold as she’d always thought it was her actual degree she’d be holding. She laughed as Plastique moaned to her about not being able to see the photo until it got mailed to her, and the fact that her Mum ordered about twenty four copies so even if it was horrible she wouldn’t ever be able to escape it. Alyssa texted Plastique to tell her she’d gone into the hall to get a good seat, so her and Brooke decided to just go and sit ready anyway. They had to say goodbye to each other briefly until the end of the ceremony, as everyone had to sit in alphabetical order. As she waited for the ceremony to begin, Brooke scanned the huge crowds all seated in the hall’s three tiered levels. Her eyes fell on each empty seat and her heart broke a little more each time she saw one.

Nobody she truly loved would see her graduate in person. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely gutted. But at least she had Plastique, and of course, Alyssa.

Before she knew it, the ceremony had begun. She tried to pay attention to the Dean’s address and the chamber choir singing in Latin but she couldn’t help feeling like a 16-year-old in her school assembly, bored and just full of anticipation. Eventually, the awards began. Brooke clapped for all the other students crossing the stage, her eyes trained on the way they walked. She swallowed down the panic she felt, banished the thought of tripping over to the back of her mind. It reached Plastique’s turn, and she gave a huge cheer as her friend walked across the stage with all the grace and poise of a supermodel. She could hear Alyssa’s voice shouting from the balcony- “That’s my baby! That’s my girl!”- and, for a moment, she thought she heard the yell of a voice she knew all too well.

No. That was crazy. She must have imagined it.

E in the alphabet turned to F, then G, and eventually, H. Brooke didn’t have many others to sit through, and eventually there was only one girl separating her and her degree. The moment these three years had led up to, finally being lived out.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

She heard her name and smiled as she walked carefully across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand tightly and collecting her scroll all wrapped up in its little embossed tube. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she walked to the other side, heard the claps, heard the cheers, and heard…

“Love you, Brooke Lynn!”

Stop.

“Go Brooke! Love you, girl!”

It was her. It was actually her. Vanessa’s voice, soaring above the crowd and reaching Brooke like an arrow.

What the fuck was she doing here, at her actual graduation ceremony? As Brooke dismounted the stage she scanned the room like a meerkat, the place far too packed to distinguish Vanessa from any other of the little blobs of people sitting in each row. But she knew it was her. Vanessa had seen her graduate, had seen her collect her degree and had cheered for her.

Brooke didn’t know how she’d managed to get a ticket - they were all reserved for families- but she suddenly couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end.

She didn’t have long to wait, as time flew by and everything was over before it could all sink in. Brooke and Plastique emerged from the hall to the crowds outside and, just as they had promised, the girls all rushed forward to crush them in ridiculously tight hugs, Silky yelling at the top of her lungs how proud she was of them both and Akeria shaking a bottle of five pound cava until the cork opened easily and sprayed the fizz all over the two girls. Brooke clung to Plastique and laughed, unable to stop the smile that was plastered on her face.

“I can’t believe it! You both did it, congratulations!” Scarlet cried cheerfully, Brooke pulling her into another hug.

“Did you see me shaking when I walked across the stage? I thought I was going to trip and fall off the damn thing!” Brooke laughed, the other girls all laughing too.

“You looked like a confident, graceful, successful queen,” Nina told her, Brooke wanting to cry at her friend’s compliment. “And you are all of those things! Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve all graduated now. What the hell are we going to do?!”

“Aw, let’s not think about that,” Akeria shushed her, a proud smile on her face. “Well done, ladies. We’re all proud of you. You did that shit.”

Plastique hugged and thanked them all again before making her excuses, saying she’d be right back, and dashing off to Alyssa. As she left, Yvie took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it.

“So, have you not got some big, teen-movie speech to make, or something?” she quipped. Brooke frowned, looking at her with confusion. The rest of the girls all waited for the penny to drop excitedly, and Brooke saw Akeria’s eyes land on someone just over her shoulder. Brooke turned around and, through the crowd, saw Vanessa waiting beside the hall. Their eyes met, and Brooke could see her try and then fail to suppress the smile on her face. Brooke turned back to the girls, pointing over her shoulder at the girl waiting for her.

“How did…you were all-”

Akeria rolled her eyes, gave her a gentle shove. “Go get your fuckin’ girl, idiot.”

Brooke hardly had to be told twice. She turned around, took two steps, then three, then four, until she realised she was almost jogging over to where Vanessa stood. And suddenly she was in front of her- her hair wavy and falling over her shoulders, her outfit exactly what any graduation guest would be wearing- a smart red dress that accentuated Vanessa’s collarbones and dark eyes and the bright white of the smile she was flashing Brooke’s way.

“Hey,” Brooke began, faltering slightly. She didn’t know where to start, so she chose the obvious. “You were there.”

“Yep!” Vanessa smiled at her proudly.

“How did…how?” Brooke stuttered out, still completely at a loss. Vanessa let out a laugh, charming beyond anything Brooke had heard before.

“I messaged your Mama. Got her number off Yvie after she sent her the link for the livestream. Basically said “hey Ms Hytes…can I grab your ticket and see your daughter graduate so I can surprise her”?” Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Brooke couldn’t believe it. Her own Mum had been in on the whole thing and hadn’t let on. She was going to kill the woman the moment she touched down in Toronto.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing,” Brooke gasped, taking a little step forward so they were closer. She felt like crying. Vanessa was here, in front of her for what was maybe the last time. She had to do something. She couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Amazing, huh?” Vanessa asked shyly, looking to the ground. They both knew the question meant so much more than simply what it was, and Brooke, without knowing where her confidence had emerged from, took both of Vanessa’s hands in hers. Vanessa’s gaze shot up, and their eyes met.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, please.”

Without waiting a second longer, Brooke tipped her head down and met Vanessa’s lips. It was somehow just like the first time, even though in many ways it wasn’t at all. This time, Brooke knew every single inch of Vanessa’s body, she knew her ambitions, her fears, she knew what it was like to have almost lost her and be lucky enough to have her come back again. But most of all, Brooke knew that she was in love with her, so fucking in love with her, this one of a kind girl who she was desperate to keep in her life no matter if Vanessa chose her to be hers or not. Their kiss was gentle and urgent and passionate all at once, and Brooke wanted to hold onto the moment forever. When Vanessa’s lips were gone and Brooke was all at once looking at her again, she had tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, ‘Ness. Come on, this isn’t…don’t be upset.”

“I am, though! I’m an idiot. These past two months we could’ve been kissing like that and going on cute dates and planning the future and having fuckin’ insane levels of sex but I left you hanging like boo boo the fuckin’ fool when I knew what my decision was the moment we had that conversation in the library, because it’s you, Brooke, fuck, it’s always been you. I love you so much,” Vanessa sniffed, frantically wiping her tears away as Brooke pulled her against her chest. Vanessa’s voice murmured against her, the most hopeful, plaintive question. “Do you still love me?”

“Fuck, Vanessa, of course I love you. You’re just…the person I was meant to meet, you’re the person I’m meant to have in my life. I love you so much.”

Brooke felt like an idiot as tears began to well up in her own eyes. She looked down at Vanessa and she looked back up at her.

“You’re leaving,” Vanessa let out a tiny sob, her forehead hitting Brooke’s chest again.

“I’ll come back,” Brooke said immediately, meaning it. “Honestly, I will. I’ll book my flights as soon as I’m home. I’ll look for flats and jobs and we can start again. We’ll make it work. I want to be with you.”

Vanessa looked up at her, her happy, grateful smile at Brooke’s words all she needed. She let out a tearful laugh. “Brooke Lynn, will you be my girlfriend?”

Brooke laughed too, taking her both her hands and squeezing them. “Hey, fuck you, I wanted to ask first!”

They both laughed then leaned in for another kiss. Brooke didn’t need to answer. Vanessa hadn’t needed to ask.

As they broke away and wrapped their arms around each other, Brooke felt the tears spring up in her eyes as she looked over at the girls. There was Akeria, making some quip about something, and Silky howling at whatever it was she’d said. Monet had joined them all and was swigging the cava out of the bottle, an arm around Nina who was looking at her with adoration. Scarlet and Yvie were telling them both a story, their hands intertwined and their bodies close. Plastique had dragged her Mum over to meet them all and her face was animated as she spoke to her, so full of happiness and excitement.

“Fuck, Vanessa, I can’t believe it’s all over,” Brooke let out a small sob. Vanessa reached up, swept her tears away with a gentle finger.

“Hey. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Brooke smiled down at her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. There was nobody she’d rather have spent the past three years with.

“You wanna go steal that cava back from Monet?”

Brooke giggled and nodded. Joining their hands together and giving them a little squeeze, they walked back over to be with their family.

[knoepfchen]

Thank you Alex, my fellow “I have a URL that no longer really fits the fandom I’m in but I’ll be damned if I change it now” TOG AU conspirator, @meet-the-girl-who-can, for tagging me in this!

I enjoy “end-of-year reflection” a lot actually, but I’ve not really gotten round to it much in previous years, and so I’m making the best of my planlessness this year. (Also it’s Theodor Fontane’s birthday tomorrow, and I believe it’s what he would have wanted.)

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works (fics, art, edits, etc.) you’ve created this year and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world in  2020. If you don’t have five published works, that’s fine! Include ideas/drafts/whatever you like that you’ve worked on/thought about, and talk a little about them instead! Remember, this is all about self-love and positive enthusiasm, so fuck the rules if you need to. Have fun, and tag as many fellow creators as you like so they can share the love! <3

The Old Guard found me at a strange little time in my life. I lost my job earlier this year and decided to take it as a clean break, try to go back to university and take it from there. The Old Guard came out the day I got the acceptance letter from my uni, which was great – but also meant I would definitely be starting all over again, and find myself in a long-distance relationship after years of living with my partner. I guess what I’m trying to say is, when I randomly saw the film on Netflix and pressed play, I was in a bit of a mental and emotional limbo from all the uncertainty suddenly going on in my life, and I latched onto the ideas of immortal love and the only true difference we can make is through acts of kindness like a baby koala to its mother. I wrote my first TOG fic a day later, and what a ride it’s been since.

I’ve read fics by and spoken to so many amazing people in the past couple of months, but I think they’ve all already been tagged (because I’ve been reading these posts like the morning paper) and so I will cop out of tagging on this one. (If you haven’t been tagged and want to do this, feel free to use me as your tagger though – I mean it when I say I love reading these posts!)

5 - a slow landslide AND what i wouldn’t gif

I can’t pick between the two so I’m including them both. This is probably surprising to anyone who’s read both because they could not be more different if they tried, but that’s exactly the problem – I like them equally, but for entirely different reasons. (I also wrote them really shortly after one another, and so it’s quite hard to disentangle them in my mind.) But because while I think I personally just want to read the same fic with the same topic from the same authors over and over, the fics I write sure are all over the place in tone, theme, setting and relationship tackled, and nothing has made me happier than seeing people read and enjoy both :) 

4 - i am lost, in the robes of all this light

Writing Andromaquynh fic can be a bit demoralising if you also write Joe and Nicky – and I don’t mean this as a dig at all, it’s just that that part of the fandom is smaller and so there’s less people reading/commenting/leaving kudos – but I really like how soft this one got. My friend somewhat rightfully pointed out to me that it’s basically an atonement fic because I felt guilt for writing an absolute angstfest of a witchhunt retelling beforehand, but if you can’t guilt trip yourself into writing fix-it fics, who can you guilt trip?

3 - and you smiled, because you knew.

This is the first thing I wrote in this fandom, and it’s a silly idea (five times Joe proposed and one time he didn’t) executed with a degree of serious introspection I’m not sure the trope is made for. Looking back, the narrative voice is off, the tense I used for flashbacks questionable, and the imagery quite literally all over the place, but it also has some of the best lines I’ve ever written and it introduced me to @avaniesque, who has taught me so! much! about history and been a wonderful beta whenever I forayed into historical settings with the guard, so I can and will not complain about it. (She’d tell me to shorten that sentence, too.)

2 - we that are true lovers run into strange capers

Okay so. For my brain, writing this fic was a little like going to my favourite fast food restaurant every day for a month. It was a strangely addictive endeavour, occupying most of my waking thoughts and causing my Spotify Wrapped to look like a fever dream, but it was also the most fun I’ve had writing anything, ever. By all rights, it should have been a hot mess, (I guess it kind of is, but by the time I noticed it seamlessly transitioned from rom-com to corporate heist it was too late) but that’s the way of self-indulgent fic! I still read the comments on this fic when I have a bad day, because everything about it is my happy place.

1 - not sleepy enough to give it up

I was tempted to put this here just because it’s the last thing I’ve written, and the last thing I’ve written is always the momentary best thing I’ve written. But more than that, I think this is the first time I managed to actually write the fic I intended to write; a fic that, reading it, feels exactly the way I imagined it would in my head. I don’t usually reread my own work, but I’ve reread this one a couple of times for non-editing purposes, and I still love it.

[taurusjaehyun]

just a little bit of your heart // j.jh

♦Pairing: Jaehyun x fem reader

♦Other Members/ Characters: Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung, Hyuck, Ten, Jisoo, Rose and Mingyu

♦Genre: ANGST!!!

♦Warnings: unrequited love, mentions of smut, sad, shitty situations, y/n is very very sad and in love, cheating

♦Word count: 3,978

♦Story: A little is better than none.

 Note: Hiiiii!! I’m back! I know I’ve been MIA in a while but life just happened and so many situtations led me to lose inspiration over writing, esp with Jaehyun (for reasons induced by other jaehyun fans L) and life was generally shitty esp with my already bad mental health lol a anyways, here’s an angsty piece that I’ve been working on for a while since I was sad lol I hope you guys enjoy it! Some references to Ariana Grande’s Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart which is sad af lol.

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

 “No. I never loved you and I don’t think I ever will, y/n. I wanna say sorry but I’m not. I know you love me but I really don’t think I can give it back.”

 Ouch.

 For once, you wanted to initiate the kisses that led to fucking just so he could shut the fuck up, much like how he’d shut you up when you kept asking if he loved you. You kept asking him if he finally loved you, and you had begged just even for a little bit of his heart but he never gave you just a hint, even. At least now, he was being honest. After one year. The one year you begged for him to date you just so you could convince him and make him fall for you.

 Throughout the year you spent together, Jaehyun was an excellent boyfriend to you. He provided what you needed more so on the physical side because when it came to feelings, he couldn’t give you anything more than what he already gave. You were thankful he didn’t change the way he was around you and how he treated you as a friend, especially after you started dating. There was really nothing more to being his girlfriend except the dates and the sex.

 You could feel your already broken heart shatter even more. Of course you knew he didn’t love you. He never said and showed he did. And he definitely wasn’t sorry.

“I’d like for us to stay friends, though. I love you as a friend and I don’t wanna lose you over this.” He speaks out, completely calm and reasonable. The hand he had on your thigh felt more foreign than ever.

You give him a tight smile and try to get away from his hold, sitting up and leaning on the headboard of your bed where the two of you had just gone through heated rounds of sex. Couldn’t this have waited after you two were dressed? But he was probably wanting this moment to happen soon anyways so it doesn’t drag out because he’s just too nice. That was the problem with him, he was too damn nice.

“I… Thank you for tolerating me,” you smile, exhaling in the process. You couldn’t let him show how you could feel your insides shatter into powder and that the pain was seeping to your skin and bones. It hurt so much. You couldn’t breathe.

Jaehyun stayed silent but offered you a sheepish smile. It was as if he expected you to just accept his revelation and break up with you even though everyone, especially him, knew how you’d been in love with him for ages.

  The break up news wasn’t as shocking to people as you thought it would. Everyone saw it coming and they were just counting down until the two of you parted ways. Men and women were flocking him and you couldn’t stay mad as he treated them the same way he’d treat everyone while he was dating you but, the problem now is, he never loved you so who’s to say he wasn’t already entertaining people while you two were together?

 Your ‘friends’ saw this coming. Ten, one of the people that clearly expressed that he was not so fond of you, had brutally told you that it was about time before you eventually broke up because according to him, ‘Jaehyun was as interested in you like oil and water wanted to mix’. It hurt and it was embarrassing as he told you that in front of everyone. Even when you were together, he’d even make comments about you and Jaehyun sometimes when you were still together.

 Almost all of your group of friends had agreed with Ten, basically. With the way you were acting like everything was okay and that you were completely fine with parting ways with Jaehyun, everyone thought you had moved on from him. Though Jaehyun had said that the break-up was mutual, they never failed to tease you and tell you that Jaehyun probably dumped you which was real shitty, to be honest, but it was true anyways so you couldn’t deny it.

 You had no one to talk to. It was either they didn’t really care or they sided with Jaehyun. You weren’t apart of the original crew of friends anyways. Now that you’ve broken up with Jaehyun, it felt like there was no reason to spend time with them anymore.

 Jaehyun was very popular in university so of course, everyone knew him and wanted him. While people mostly knew you as the girl who chased after Jaehyun, became friends with him and finally got what she wanted when you successfully got him to date you. No one but you and Jaehyun knew about the one year you begged from him after he had turned you down after your very well prepared confession. Despite that, everyone wasn’t convinced your relationship was out of love in the first place. You’d make Jaehyun turn up in public with your marks inflicted in ‘passionate nights’ but everyone thought of it as purely sexual.

 Everyone knew Jaehyun didn’t like you that way and he was just too nice.

 2 weeks after, you go through the motions as if nothing has changed. You restrain yourself and start to stay away from Jaehyun. You don’t really actively reach out for him, or get close to him like you’d normally would. He’d assume his position beside you because ‘that’s what he was used to and you’re still a good friend to him’.

 You’d decided that little was better than none. You’d take this the feeling of your chest hurting just to see, feel and be with Jaehyun.

 “Did you sleep with her?” Haechan asks, teasing Jaehyun. Jaehyun had started going out with the guys again and although you didn’t wanna know, you were still in this table where the friends shared everything within themselves.

 “No, no! We’re still getting to know each other and besides, we both just got out of a relationship.” Jaehyun explains as he throws a piece of fry he stole from your plate into his mouth.

 Doyoung grunts, flicking Hyuck’s forehead which made the sophomore groan in pain. “Dude, his ex is literally beside him and it’s only been weeks. Rude.” Doyoung scolds Haechan who only retaliates back.

 “Oh, I forgot about you, sorry.” Hyuck shrugged nonchalantly, knowing that jab was directed to you. Without missing a beat, another topic overtakes the table and you’re left to your thoughts again.

 You lose your appetite and decide the peas in your mashed potatoes were very much interesting—just to tune out the others conversation. You tended to overthink and you admit for the past 2 weeks, you’ve thought of nothing except Jaehyun, especially when you were in bed. At night is where usually everything comes crashing down.

 2 weeks of sleepless nights full of tears and no one has noticed nor mentioned it. But you think it’s actually better than actually having to explain yourself. No one had heard your side of the story after the break up and how especially hard it was for you, of course. No one knew what was said and what transpired between your relationship.

 You always thought Jaehyun was just particular about his privacy but turns out, he was doing damage control and not letting people assume about your relationship so when the time came, no one could get in your business because they knew nothing at all. You felt stupid because now it’s clear that it was more like a day dream in your head. Jung Jaehyun, turns out, wasn’t as nice as everyone thought he was.

 You had your classes timed in your phone since you always managed to be late, mostly to the fact that Jaehyun had you pressed against a wall, crying for him, so when your alarm for your next class goes off, you quietly leave the table and as expected, no one really noticed. You liked it better that way.

 As your presence with Jaehyun’s friends started to become non-existent, you started having your food in the courtyard instead of the cafeteria where Jaehyun and his friends usually ate. They’d text you on your whereabouts but you managed to make excuses and you recently joined an org in uni that took up your time and your focus so they didn’t really bother asking much for you. You had a few classes with them anyways.

 Jaehyun texted you whenever he could, though. After all, before you dated, you were the closest to him so it’d be weird not to answer his messages. You had agreed to be friends with him anyways after that night when he dumped you. You did your best to reply, of course, you didn’t want to disappoint him. Again, a little was better than none.

 Most of the time, you’d end up thinking about wanting to cry about Jaehyun that eating became physically taxing and annoying, and you throw yourself in so much work and studying that you barely had time to rest and it didn’t help that Jaehyun was everywhere in your dorm as well so you resorted to sleeping in one of the empty classrooms.

 And that was where you saw him with her.

 You had no idea of what Jaehyun had been up to except for the stuff he’d tell you on text, but you definitely knew he always had had his eyes on this one girl from your Politics class and she definitely was very interested, and now even more that he’s single and you’re definitely out of the picture.

 Jaehyun and Mina were at the front of the room, with Jaehyun pressing the perfect Mina against the board, passionately kissing her in the classroom you were occupying. It seemed like they hand’t noticed ur existence as you were jolted awake when her heel hit the wooden tables when Jaehyun had lifted her from the table and onto his lap before pressing her against the wall, kissing her so slowly and passionately.

 He’d never kissed you that way. No matter how much he kissed you, how harder he fucked you, this was the most you’ve ever felt actual feelings from him. You couldn’t deny the painful jab at your heart so you distract yourself, thinking about your tiredness and want to sleep. You try to force yourself again back to sleep so you had to listen to them making out while talking like lovers. You didn’t cry at all, and you were damn proud, but after they had left, you missed your class and went straight to your dorm, seeing his ghost again. Seeing the ghost of him from your past memories was better than the Jaehyun you saw earlier. You couldn’t deal with him after that.

 After that, you’d completely tried to ignore Jaehyun and his friends. They were never your friends. You’d just smile and wave at them when you see them at classes but there was no point for conversation. They’d text you but it was over nothing. And not to mention that Ten was being extra cold and hurtful with the texts he sent you, knowing you being absent around them was because of Jaehyun.

 From TY:

-          I know you love him a lot.

-          I’m always here if you need to talk.

 From JCC:

-          We miss u broski 😔 we’ll kick Jaehyun and his new gf out for u just come back 😂

-          Oh. Sorry, they’re together now tho... I didn’t mean to tell you... but Ig it’s only right.

-          JN: Sorry :(

 From Junguwu:

-          Hang in there, y/n :) fighting!

 From: Hyuck

-          JAEHYUN HAS A NEW GF???? LMAOOO

-          Suck it up and come back! Show him u don’t need him 🤪

 From Doyoung:

-          You ok?

-          I guess you already know about Jaehyun and his new gf?

-          Take care of yourself, y/n. I know you love him a lot.

 From Jaehyun:

-          Y/n?? Where are you??

-          Miss hanging out with u!!

-          Imma buy u fries just hang out with us again!! I have sumn to tell u!!

-          Im seeing Mina now!! Reply when u see this!

 You busied yourself with the new organization you joined and turns out, the news of Jaehyun dating Mine was bigger than expected, well not to you. It had been a long time coming anyways. Mina and Jaehyun were hooking up even way before you and Jaehyun got together. Jaehyun and Mina were both well known to be one of the most beautiful people in campus and it just made sense they’d date. People were even calling them the most beautiful couple even before they met so needless to say, this couple was approved and well supported by the people in your uni, not just your department.

 You were old news. It had just been 3 months since you and Jaehyun broke up and it was long forgotten. However, comparison wasn’t avoided now that Jaehyun was dating a goddess in his league now, compared to when he dated you, a nobody. You were just known for being the girl that Jaehyun dumped after a year.

 Some people though, find it funny that you were still so obviously into Jaehyun. Your parting ways with Jaehyun and his friends was not unnoticed by the gossip mills in the uni. Out of spite and pure entertainment, people would as you about Jaehyun and how your relationship was, which you ignore—for the most part. Some people are just really interested in him and how it was dating him, and most people asked how he was in bed and of course, you didn’t answer. You tried to distance yourself from him and anything to do with him. You didn’t realize how popular Jaehyun was, honestly. You knew so many people were against you when you were friends and even more so when you started dating.

    You decide to go out again, linking up with a few girls in your org, Jisoo and Rose. It was a club you’ve never been before and you’re glad because they were actually good company. After the break-up with him, you often hung out with them because of the time you spent in the org and you’ve been inseparable ever since.

 It wasn’t common for you to wake up with a stranger next to you for the past 2 months. You heard that Jaehyun started sleeping around a week after you broke up and even if you tried to act like it didn’t hurt, it really did. He was always one to sleep around but he assured you he was loyal when you were together and you gave yourself to him whenever he needed you so he wouldn’t stray but clearly, that wasn’t enough to keep him.

 You recognize your one night stand as Mingyu who you had class with last semester and was good friends with Jaehyun. Not that it mattered, though.

“You were crying last night,” Mingyu started when he passed you a bowl of cereal as breakfast from his position in the other side of the kitchen island. He had offered, of course.

 It wasn’t anything new, really. “Oh?”

 “You were calling his name, you know,” he started as he looked up at you, gauging your reaction, “even when I was fucking you.” He said awkwardly then cleared his throat.

 You sigh, clicking your tongue, “that’s embarrassing. I’m so sorry.” Again, it wasn’t anything new.

 “It’s ok. I know you love him. Everybody knows.”

 You frown, “is that supposed to be a good thing?”

 He looks at you and sees your less than welcoming expression. “No, I mean like, he knows you love him and everyone does. It shows. And it’s completely understandable why you’re hurt now that he’s... with Mina.” He cleared his throat when you visibly wince at the mention of Mina’s name. “He’d tell us... about you sometimes when we hung out.”

 You didn’t want anyone’s pity, honestly. “Yeah, well. See how that didn’t work out.” You laugh bitterly. “I gave him a lot of me and he never felt the same way. It’s ok, though. I mean...” you pause and start to eat your cereal and he nods.

 “Umm... I’m really sorry I don’t know how to comfort you but if it makes you feel any better...” he pauses, as if pondering then smiles before speaking again, “you’re a great fuck.”

 You burst out laughing, “well, that was the only way I could keep him, Mingyu.”

 Mingyu ended up dropping you off at your dorms on the way to his first class, and in his car so the walk of shame wasn’t as embarrassing. You didn’t forget what he told you before you came down the car.

 “You’re worth it, y/n and more than enough. Jaehyun isn’t just for you and it’s his loss, honestly.”

 You skipped on your first class, staring up the ceiling as you let the tears fall silently until you couldn’t breathe. Even with the amount of guys you’ve slept with, none of them compared to Jaehyun. You knew some of the guys you’ve slept with knew you were Jaehyun’s ex and if they didn’t, they’d know from the way you could call his name and cry for him in the middle of drunken sex. You felt extra bad for Mingyu as he turned out to be a great ear for you and the fact that he said that you were one of the best fucks he’s ever had while you couldn’t say the same.

 Sex was pointless at this point, honestly. You couldn’t feel anything but the emptiness and pain you felt while you were being fucked and usually, the after effects were you being sore. And the only way you would cum was when you’d think about Jaehyun fucking you but that made the pain in your heart grow. It was an annoying cycle.

    “Fuck me, Jaehyun.” You’ve admittedly had a little more to drink so it was the first thing you said as soon as you saw him. He was in a booth along with his friends and your arrival and opening words surprised them all, no doubt.

 “What are you doing here?” Jaehyun asks, confused. He’s never seen you at a club before and knew you didn’t like going to clubs. Well, you only started going after you broke up anyways so how would he know. Jaehyun and a few of the guys stand up, holding you in your drunk stupor.

 “Fuck me.” You mutter as you push yourself to him and catch his mouth in a heated kiss which he stops by pushing you away and wiping his mouth. That hurt.

 “What the hell is happening here?” Ten asks, confused and surprised as Jaehyun looks at you in so much shock.

 You were desperate and the alcohol inside you was giving you the push and confidence that you usally didn’t have. “Jaehyun, please. Fuck me. I’m begging you.” You plead, trying to kiss him and grind yourself against him that you smell Johnny’s familiar cologne and you just know that he was the one who pulled you away from Jaehyun and is currently holding you back. “I can’t feel anything. I can’t. Jaehyun, please. Fuck me. Make me feel. Please, please.”

 “Are you on drugs?” Johnny asks, scanning his eyes over you as he holds you back from Jaehyun.

 “I’m not high or drunk, Johnny. I just can’t take it anymore! I can’t feel anything! Just-I just need to feel something… anything.” You reach out for Jaehyun again and Johnny’s hold tightens around you. “I’ve tried fucking other guys, I even fucked Mingyu and the guys in your team but I... can’t. If they’re not you. I can’t fucking feel. Make me feel, Jaehyun. Please.”

 Jaehyun talks to the guys and they decided to leave you be, Jaehyun personally drives you to your apartment while they cover for him. Mina was there after all.

 He helps you to your house, not trusting you alone. Yes, you were drunk but you were aware of everything you were doing and saying. In the car, you didn’t shed a tear, keeping quiet. You basked in the feeling of anxiety he was giving you. It was better than not feeling anything at all.

 As soon as you got in your room, you kissed him and stripped. And of course, he did fuck you after you begged him. And he made you beg more and more in bed, too. The tears that you thought would run out, never stopped pouring as he fucked you. Because the person that you heart longed for was finally in your arms again.

 Your heart was full with him. His warmth filled your being, his scent filled your senses, his kisses left you breathless, hos touches leaving warmth in his wake, his cock filling you like no one has ever and his cum filling you to the brim. You felt everything all at once that you felt overwhelmed. You knew you were screaming how much you loved him as he was fucking you and you don’t regret it. You let him use you for his own pleasure as you cried for him. You’d take everything and anything you could for tonight.

 After multiple rounds of fucking, you were beyond exhausted but seeing him in the flesh beside you, in your bed again made you... feel. Before tonight, he was just a ghost in your home and in your mind. You’ve longed to see him like this again. You spent a lot of the night awake, watching him sleep, tracing the features of his beautiful face you’ve missed that you’ll probably won’t see again.

 “Am I ever gonna be someone worthy of your love?” You ask quietly as you stare at his serene face. It was unfair how beautiful he looked, even at his most vulnerable. “I miss you so much.” He shifts and you pull your hand back as if you were burned, tucking your hand away, feeling awkward. “I’ll never be enough for you and I know that. I don’t wish for you to feel the same way because I don’t deserve it. You deserve better. You deserve her. She’s everything I’m not…” You scoot away from him, giving him much space as possible. “But I wish I was her and you were mine.” You feel the tears fall down your temple and you quickly wipe it away. “I’ll never be deserving of you, even just a little bit of your heart, Jaehyun.”

  You decided to clean up, taking your time in the tub and wearing sweatpants and a hoodie to hide the marks he inflicted onto you. You didn’t want him to see, even if he knew what he was did. Walking was a bit hard to do because of the sex but it wasn’t new with him.

 You sit on the solo sofa by the bed, watching Jaehyun asleep, lying on his stomach and head facing you as he slept, mouth agape and body completely limp. You could see the scratch marks on his back and arms and the hickies on his neck too but frankly, you try not to care about it too much.

 You barely notice the sun coming up until the room is filled with light and the sun just highlights Jaehyun’s beauty more and more. You feel... everything all at once. The loss, the pain, the love, the anxiety, the despair, the desperation, the jealousy—everything. It had you feeling breathless, as if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

 You hated it but it was better than feeling numb. You’ve never been so lonely and unwanted before and you it hits you so hard.

 A little was better than nothing.

[herocentral]

Possible Hero 6

Evening folks Chapter 4 is here, sorry for the unfortunate delay I’ve been a little occupied with uni work. Plus I’ve been to see the Sonic the Hedgehog film, loved it loved the references and the action scenes, it defiantly deserves a sequel heck the games could learn from some aspects of it. Now without further delay heres chapter 4 of Possible Hero 6

I don't own the characters in this story this is just for fun! 

Kim Possible & Big Hero 6 (c) Disney, 2020

Chapter 4: Train up Hero style!

Things couldn’t be any worse for Big Hero 6 not only did their mystery villain thief AKA Shego escaped from them, twice and Momokase escaping as well with her intentions unknown. Now they return to Hiro’s garage to find Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable waiting for them, this could only mean one thing. 

“Hiro?” Hiro said but then coughed and straightened up. “Sorry Miss, uh Possible but I have no idea what your talking about.” He then acted. 

“Yeah, Ki.. uh, complete stranger who we have only met once at the…”

“Okay drop the poor acting Fred.” Kim said interrupting Fredzilla. 

“You, mean you…” Wasabi guessed. 

“Wasabi, Honey Lemon, Gogo, Fred Frederickson, Hiro Hamada and of course Baymax.” Kim pointed to each member of the team in a Batman like style which confirmed that she knew their secret identities. 

Everyone looked at each other in worry wondering what this could mean for the teams future. 

“Oh guys it’s so not the drama, your secrets safe with me.” Kim then assured. 

So one by one each member of BH6 removed their helmets/masks revealing their true identities and Honey Lemon put her glasses back on her face. 

“So how’d you know it was us?” Hiro asked. 

“Well for starters when I first saw Big Hero 6 and the tech they were using I could see that it looked a lot similar to each of your friends majors.” Kim began to explain. “Chemistry, mag lev suspension, laser induced plasma and of course Freds super hero theme all applied with the use of robotics, which with Hiro being a super genius could engineer.”

The team listened with interest and Ron as always was impressed by Kim’s deductive skills. 

“Plus when you told me that robot gauntlet was a souvenir from Alister Krei I could tell by your micro expressions that you were lying.” Hiro could only rub his neck in embarrassment as Gogo glared.

“And the final thing being, Tadashi’s death, his connection to the fire at SFIT and Professor Callaghan AKA Yokai. The fact being that Big Hero 6 appeared during his attack on Krei tech that day. Plus the coloured visors they’re terrible identity concealers.” Kim finished.

Everyone’s jaws dropped with amazement how could she have put together all the dots in such a way to find out their identities.

“Wow very impressive.” Gogo said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah told you she could do anything.” Ron added.

“Yeah that and being the daughter of a rocket scientist and brain surgeon doesn’t hurt.” Kim then added. 

“But I’m surprised that you were obviously followed all the way here and didn’t even notice, you’ve got to work on your security training.” 

“Wow, we do need to keep our eyes open or we’ll be blind.” Said a drunk Baymax. 

“Uh is he okay?” Ron asked. “Uh yeah he’s just low on batteries.” Hiro explained. 

Soon Baymax was out of his armour and on his charging station recharging his batteries. He begins to reinflate as he recharges. Meanwhile the rest of the team talk things over with Team Possible. 

 “So, now that you know are you going to tell my aunt Cass about this?” Hiro asked with worry. 

“No I’m....” “it’s just if she ever found out about this she’d literally put me under house arrest she worries a lot like a lot and.” Hiro said interrupting Kim. 

“Hiro!” Kim said getting his attention. “I’m not going to tell anyone about your identities.” 

“Oh.” Hiro said. “Actually when I first heard about Big Hero 6 I started doing some research I’ve seen the work you’ve done to help people and I’m pretty impressed how you’ve handled supervillains and kept the city safe.” Kim explained.

“But I do want to know why you decided to become super heroes in the first place?” She then asked. “Yeah I mean every super hero has a cool origin story.” Ron added as Rufus nodded his head.

Hiro took his time to answer but knew that since Kim and Ron now knew who they were that it was time to share why they do what they do. 

“Tadashi.” Hiro said then turned his attention to Baymax. “Show them Baymax.” 

Baymax’s chest monitor then lit up and began showing his video logs of Hiro’s brother building Baymax. 

“This is Tadashi Hamada.” He said introducing himself. Kim and Ron looked at the screen as did the rest of the team. 

“And this is the first test of my robotics project.” Tadashi then said holding up a black board with the words test 1 on it and he began testing his invention. 

“Hello, I am Baymax.....” Suddenly Baymax’s voice generated feedback which nearly deafens Tadashi. 

“Stop, stop stop stop!” Tadashi said as he quickly shut Baymax off. 

Kim saw who exactly this was whilst Ron was all but puzzled. However he saw the looks on the faces of everyone watching the video and could see some of them were happy and nearly brought to tears by the sight of this. 

“So is that...” “Yeah that’s Tadashi.” Hiro answered Rons question. 

The footage then moved onto the next entry log of the tests. 

“The seventh test of my robotics project.” Tadashi announced. He then activated Baymax to test him again. 

“Hello, I am Baymax.” Baymax said but suddenly began punching Tadashi with his inflated hands his left hand then flew off like a balloon quite literally. 

Tadashi held onto Baymax to try and get him to stop. 

“Wait wait stop scan stop!” Tadashi exclaimed. 

The next log showed Tadashi was completely exhausted, with bags under his eyes completely sleep deprived. 

“Tadashi Hamada again, and this is the thirty third test of my robotics project. He then said tired out.

Suddenly there was a spark and it completely took out the lights in his lab rendering leaving him in complete darkness. 

Tadashi then shines a torch  and looks over his creation though he was looking doubtful of making it work he wasn’t one to quit. 

“I’m not giving up on you.” Tadashi sighed. “You don’t understand this yet but people need you, so let’s get back to work.” Tadashi said shutting down Baymax to begin testing again. 

Kim just looked at the video in awe, she knew that Hiro’s brother built Baymax but didn’t know he saw difficulties doing it he persisted not giving up. She had to admit she was starting to admire him. 

The footage then moved to the next log it was the afternoon and Tadashi was looking a little tired after working hard through the night. 

“This is Tadashi Hamada, and this is the 84th” Tadashi sighed before continuing. “Test, what do you say big guy?” 

Tadashi activates Baymax and waits for another fault. 

“Hello, I am Baymax your personal healthcare companion.” Baymax said. 

Tadashi could only look in complete shock and surprise to see that his creation was operational and working. 

“It works.” He breathed. “IT WORKS!” Tadashi then shouted. ‘This is amazing! You, you work!” He said kissing Baymax in joy dancing with delight and excitement. 

“I knew it I knew it I knew iiiit!” He squealed. “You work I can’t believe it!” 

Ron nudged Kim’s shoulder and saw that there was a lone tear running down Hiro’s face and they could tell that he missed his brother. 

“Alright, alright big moment here.” Tadashi said as he stepped back ready for the biggest test of all. 

“Scan me.” Tadashi said and Baymax did as he was asked. 

“Your Nero transmitter levels are elevated, this indicates that you are happy.” Baymax diagnosed. 

“I am I really am.” Tadashi said in joy. “Oh man, wait till my brother sees you, your going to help so many people buddy.” 

Honey Lemon hugged Gogo slightly whilst Wasabi put a hand on Fred’s shoulder. 

“So.. many, that’s all for now, I’m satisfied with my care.” Tadashi said with a smile. The recording then ended and there was a minute of silence before Hiro broke it. 

“He wanted to help a lot of people, he cared, that’s why he worked so hard to create Baymax.” Hiro said gesturing you his robot friend. 

“So you became superheroes to, honour his memory?” Ron asked. 

“Well it didn’t really start that way at first, we did this to just catch the guy responsible for his death.” Hiro explained as the rest of his friends came over. 

“But after we saved everyone at Krei tech then after I enrolled at SFIT and stopping an army of rouge Baymaxes.” Hiro said. Kim could see where this was going. 

“The last thing that Tadashi ever said to me was, someone has to help.” Hiro explained. “So, that’s what we decided to do.” 

“Yeah Tadashi was our best friend, in a way his dream lives in all of us.” Honey Lemon added. 

Kim couldn’t help but smile at what she’d just heard, she knew they had the best of intentions and couldn’t help but relate to that sure when she first started out she didn’t ask to be a hero but after saving a billionaire collector and many other things after that, she knew this was her path.

“I see, well I know you guys have the best of intentions but Shego isn’t like most villains you’ve faced.” Kim then said. 

“I thinks that’s pretty obvious.” Wasabi said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah even with our tech we have no way to fight her.” Honey Lemon said. “Come on guys we can’t just give up!” Gogo argued. 

“Yeah didn’t stop us before won’t now!” Fred said standing dramatically. 

“With our current skills I calculate our chances 0.000” Baymax explained. “Baymax no need for the number crunching.” Hiro said.

The team could see they would need to do something to be able to handle the likes of Shego but Kim seemed confident about what to do in this situation. 

“No big guys we can handle Shego and Drakken just leave this to us.” Kim said. “Ron, Rufus let’s go.” 

“Right behind you KP.” Ron said Hiro was all but shocked to see they were going to stop Shego by themselves however they had been following the case too and they couldn’t just let this go after tonight. 

“Hold on!” Hiro said getting the duos attention. 

“We’re coming too.” Hiro said standing forward. 

“It’s okay guys we got this.” Ron assured. “No.” Hiro said with confidence. “We have to help, my brother would have.” 

“Besides San Fransokyo is our turf, we’re not going to stand by and let this green lady or her boss wreck it.” Gogo said. “So you’ll need our help, like it or not.” 

“Yeah.” Said the rest of the team. In response to that the teen hero could only smile in response. 

“Good, that was actually a test, to see how committed you were to what you do, and I’m happy to say you’ve passed.” Kim said. “We could use help navigating this city.” 

Hiro could only smile in pride and relief. “Oh yeah I’m sensing a super hero team up!” Fred said practically jumping up and down in excitement. 

“Okay geek cool your jets.” Gogo said. “Yeah we still need a plan to take on this Shego.” Wasabi agreed. 

“Well maybe it’s best if we first get our facts straight.” Hiro said gesturing to his board of all the locations that Shego has robbed over the past week. 

“Hiro, you are due to wake up in 2 hours, sleep is recommended.” Baymax said 

“I guess your right Baymax we’ll talk more in the morning.” Hiro agreed to which Kim nodded because even heroes need their sleep. 

Drakken’s lair

Meanwhile as San Fransokyo slept Drakken’s evil mind was at work using the equipment stolen he began assembling something in his lair. All the while his henchmen were moving the components into place. 

“Now thanks to those plans we stole from the Krei tech servers our plans are now moving into place.” Drakken said as he worked. “Soon the world shall know my name and tremble before my genius! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“So you’ve said the last 23 times Dr.D.” Shego said filing her nails. “Quiet Shego your harshing my mellow!” Drakken said harshly.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Shego said when she continued to do her nails. Suddenly an alert sounded from her phone and she looked to see she had received an email, from an anonymous sender. She opened it only to reveal a strange monster symbol in purple on her phone and then. 

“Greetings, I have a proposition I’d like to discuss with you  Miss Shego, I’ve attached directions come alone.” Said a voice from the phone. The message then disappeared. 

Shego was very much surprised, how could someone know her contact details only Drakken knew that, but at the same time she wanted to know how someone could find her. There was only one way to find out.

The Water front San Fransokyo bay:

In the dark of the night fog surrounded San Fransokyo harbour all was quiet in the air soon a figure arrived at the waterfront she was wearing a dark green jacket brand new Club Banana. It was Shego, she had to admit she was a little skeptic about this meeting but was never the less curious. 

It wasn’t clear but she could make out a faint light in the dark it was neon purple and it looked like a thin one sided skull face. 

The fog cleared to reveal Obake standing in the fog. 

“I see you decided to come.” Obake said smirking. 

“Okay, you got my attention what do you want.” Shego demanded. 

“Oh I have been watching you for a while my dear, and I merely wanted to meet someone of great potential.” Obake said simply. 

“Watching me?” Shego asked. “Yes, ever since you and your employer Dr.Drakken arrived in the city.” Obake said. “And I must say the power you have has a lot of potential, potential such as that shouldn’t be wasted on an amateur like him, for you see there is no limit to the potential you have, I learned that from an old friend of mine long ago” Shego listened you what this stranger had to say and a small part of her couldn’t wonder if he was right. 

“ That is why when the opportunity arose I decided to test you’re potential against another with similar ambitions.” Obake then said.

“Wait you sent that ninja lady!” Shego said in surprise. “Yes you see in truth I had no interest with that hard drive, I merely sent her to test your abilities against her. However the arrival of Miss Possible and Big Hero 6 did complicate things it did prove how much potential you have.” Obake said. 

“You said you had a preposition for me, what’s that supposed to mean?” Shego asked. 

“Why to merely have you consider what I’ve said, and to provide you with the means to expand your potential.” Obake said as he stood aside to reveal a small black crate. Shego was all but curious at this point. 

“Consider this a gift.” Obake said as he walked away. 

“Oh and if and when this scheme of your employers goes awry, you’ll know how to find me.” Obake said as the left side of his face glowed and disappeared into the mist. 

Shego used her powers to give a light in the mist to look for the stranger but couldn’t find him all that was left was the small black crate that he left for her. Being curious she opened the crate and found something inside, something that intrigued her. 

The following morning

As the sun shon on a new morning in San Fransokyo Kim and Ron were making their way to the Lucky Cat Cafe. They entered the cafe to see Cass seeing to her customers. 

“Morning Cass.” Kim called. “Oh morning Kimmie” Cass greeted. “Please Cass call me Kim.” Kim insisted. “Oh sorry your mother still washes off on me, even after high school.” Cass said. 

“Right so is Hiro around?” Ron asked. ‘“Oh of course Ron he’s in his garage with Baymax Gogo and the others just recently got here.” Cass said. 

“Right thanks” Kim thanked as she walked through to the back. “So how do you handle being...” Kim quickly pulled Ron away before he could blurt out anything. 

In the garage, the team was gathered, Hiro was working at his computer whilst Baymax scanned Gogo. 

“Gogo, you appear to have fully recovered from your minor concussion.” Baymax said. 

“Thanks Baymax but I’ve taken worse falls than that.” Gogo thanked. 

“So guys is anyone but me excited for this super team up with Kim Possible!” Fred said bouncing round in excitement. 

“Fred calm down.” Wasabi said. “Yeah besides this is a collaboration.” Gogo said. “Yeah to take down a common enemy.” Fred said “classic super hero team up, just like the time Captain Fancy teamed up with another super hero to take down their arch foes who teamed up!” 

“You read Captain Fancy?” Called a voice and they turned to see Kim and Ron standing in the garage doorway. 

“Oh hey guys.” Honey Lemon greeted. “Glad you could make it.” Hiro said. 

“Now, let’s have the sitch about what Shego’s been doing in the city.” Kim said. 

Soon Hiro pulled out his large board from the back of his garage showing all the Krei tech facilities that Shego has hit over the past week. 

“Okay, over the last week Krei tech has had several break ins at their warehouses in the city and we’ve been tracking them.” Hiro explained. 

“Yeah and at each one different things were stolen tech pieces both cybernetic and mechatronics.” Gogo then explained. 

“At first we thought it might have been one of our enemies like maybe Momakaske or Yama.” Wasabi added. 

“But it was actually Shego, who’s been taking these items for Drakken.” Kim eventually surmised. 

“Yeah so what’s the deal with that blue skinned guy?” Fred asked. 

“Right best you guys know what your dealing with, but it’s best to late Wade snow you.” Kim said. 

“Who’s Wade?” Asked Honey Lemon. Then all of a sudden the holo computer near the front of the garage lit up showing Wade in his room at the computers. 

“That’s me” Wade said startling everyone. 

“Guys, this is Wade our resident super genius and our secret weapon.” Ron introduced. “Wade meet Big Hero 6” Ron then gestured to the team in the garage. 

“Dude!” Hiro panicked. “Guys relax Wade can keep a secret.” Kim assured chuckling. “Yeah plus Hiro, he’s a super genius like you and graduated college at 13.” Ron added. 

“All are true.” Wade said. “Well okay, I’m Hiro.” Hiro introduced. 

“Hello I am Baymax.” Baymax introduced with a wave. 

“That’s Gogo.” Hiro gestured and she just blew a bubble gum ball. “He’s Wasabi” “How you doing” Wasabi greeted. “That’s Honey Lemon.” “Hello there.” Honey Lemon greeted. 

“And I’m Fred” Fred said introducing himself. 

“Pleasure guys been reading up on you guys pretty impressive.” Wade complimented. 

“Okay Wade show them everything we have on Drakken and Shego.” Kim said. 

“Right showing files now.” Wade typed in some commands on his keyboard and showed files on Drakken and Shego. 

“Well as you guys have probably guessed Shego is an ex superhero gone rouge, and she works with Dr. Drakken.” Kim explained. “Drakken is your typical mad scientist who wants to conquer the world, he never does though. His real name is Drew Lipsky he was once a friend of my Dad in college.”

“Wait he was a friend of your dads!” Hiro said in surprise. 

“Oh.. a twist I’m liking this origin story more and more.” Fred said sitting down on a chair. Gogo just nudged him. 

“Yeah but he dropped out when he couldn’t build a good robot and his friends laughed at him.” Kim added. 

“Classic!” Fred said. “But what’s with the blue skin?” Wasabi asked. “Maybe he turned blue with sadness.” Honey Lemon guessed. 

“Blue skin is often what happens when someone holds their breath for a long period of time.” Baymax diagnoses with a diagram on his chest monitor. 

“I have a theory.” Fred said with a knowing finger pointing up. “When he was laughed out he must’ve accidentally fallen into a vat of chemicals which turned his skin blue and made him a little insane.” 

Everyone looked in surprise, to what Fred just said Baymax just blinked. 

“Wow that’s actually a good theory.” Wade said in surprise. 

“Yep never underestimate the power of comic books” Fred said proudly. 

“Okay, so back to the matter of Shego, what could she want with these components?” Hiro said. 

“Knowing Drakken it could be another one of his take over the world schemes.” Kim said. “Now they know you guys are onto them we’ll need to work together to stop them and figure out what they’re up to.”

“Great, but don’t we need a plan we haven’t fought someone like Shego before.” Wasabi asked. 

“Well you guys are good and judging by the security footage you stood your ground against Shego, but you need to learn how to fight better to stand a chance against foes like her.” Kim explained. 

“So I’m going to train you guys how to fight and how to better use your tech in team work.” 

“Oh yeah! IT’S SHUGYO TIME!” Fred exclaimed taking a kung fu training pose. “To the mansion!” 

Fred’s Mansion the gardens

Soon everyone was gathered in Fred’s back garden which was rather large with very Greek like architecture structures and statues. Everyone was now dressed in training attire; Hiro wore a white shirt with his normal pants and sneakers, Wasabi was in his yoga gear which was a green shirtless vest with black pants and shoes. Gogo just wore her white shirt with her black pants and leggings. Honey Lemon was in her yoga gear and both were bare foot. Fred meanwhile was in a training suit. 

“Dude this back yard is huge!” Ron said in amazement with Rufus looking wide eyes.  

“Yeah we train here with our suits sometimes.” Fred explained “You see that statue over there.” Fred then gestured to what was left of a statue that was destroyed by something. 

“Baymax wrecked it with his rocket fist when we first got our suits.” Fred then explained. 

“Whoa!” Rufus squeaked. “But weren’t your parents tweaked about that?” Ron said concerned. 

“Nah my dad didn’t like that anyway it was imported from someplace called the Southern Isles they didn’t want it for some reason so my mom bought it.”Fred then added. 

“Alright guys gather up.” Kim called who was now dressed in training gear of her own which was comprised of a pink short sleeved crop top, dark pink yoga pants and sneakers with a grey shirt underneath. Everyone soon gathered as she placed down some training gear such as punching pads. 

“Okay guys in order to stop your opponent you first need to know more about how they fight.” Kim explained. “So when you first fought Shego what did you see?” 

“Shes fast.” Hiro said “Mean!” Fred said “Fights dirty” Gogo then added. “Loves the colour green” Honey added. “And uses plasma blasts!” Wasabi then said. 

“All good answers.” Kim said with a thumbs up. “Shego’s style is all about attack and going on the offensive, and yes she uses energy blasts which trust me sting if you get hit.” 

“Got that notion.” Gogo said remembering her fight with her last night.

“So, how do we fight someone like that?” Honey Lemon asked. “By learning how to fight better and use teamwork.” Kim said “Now lets get you guys in fighting shape.” 

(Music Starts: Call me Beep me Sadie Stanley)

Kim holds up some punching pads in her hands and Gogo begins punching them followed by some kicks and Kim manages to block them all. Soon she and Wasabi are facing each other on the grass. Kim motioned for Wasabi to come at her, though he was a little hesitant at first he knew this was training so he charged forwards and threw a few punches which Kim dodged and then grabbed Wasabi’s arm and flipped him onto his back. 

Hiro was lasting a little longer when training against Kim she threw a few punches and kicks whilst Hiro avoided some of them and Hiro threw a few punches of his own. However Kim did a leg swipe and tripped Hiro up. 

He looked up and saw Kim offering a hand smiling which he took. 

Ron meanwhile sat on the sidelines with Rufus, Mini max and Baymax. Those who weren’t training namely Hiro, Wasabi and Fred were sat resting and with towels. 

Meanwhile Kim was doing a two on one with Honey Lemon and Gogo, they came at Kim with punches and kicks which Kim was able to block, and gave advice whilst doing so. 

“Remember coordinate like a team.” Kim said between kicks and punches. So the two responded by working as a team Gogo slipped past Kim whilst Honey Lemon threw a roundhouse kick and Gogo came up from behind and performed a leg swipe tripping Kim up who was quick to recover. She looked to the two impressed knowing they were learning. She then came in with back flips and then performed several round house kicks. 

From his viewing point Hiro was amazed by Kims fighting skills but given she said she was a cheerleader it did help a little, however when he looked to Baymax an idea soon sparked in his head. 

Later at the garage, Hiro was typing at his holo computer keyboard and was looking at recordings of their training session and Kims fighting skills. He knew exactly what to do with this. However, he then noticed Rufus was in the lab and looking at Baymax’s armour lying around and he saw the little mole rat was pretending he was firing rocket fists from his hands. Hiro could only chuckle a little but he then got an idea and so slid his chair over to the rear desk and picked up a small scanning device. 

“Hey Rufus.” Hiro called getting his attention. “Arms up and hold still.” He then said and Rufus a little confused held his arms up and Hiro scanned him creating a 3D render in his computer. 

Back at the mansion Kim had set up an obstacle course for a training exercise the course consisted of several benches hoops and even a balancing beam.Fred was suited up in his Fredzilla suit. Kim then ran forward and performed some of her cheer leading moves back flips on the benches, swinging on the hoops and then bouncing on the beam to back flip and land on two feet. She then gestured for Fred to try.

“Oh yeah!” Fred said putting on the top half of his suit on then charged in. “SUPER JUMP!” He exclaimed. He performed a super back flip with the enhanced springs in his suit and then jumped and then swung round the hoops and launched forwards jumps on the board and finally span in a circle breathing fire from his suit and landed on the ground in a dynamic super hero pose!

Kim nodded in approval of Freds success. Soon she was facing Wasabi again and this time he was more confident in his hand to hand combat skills and was able to avoid Kims leg swipe and then performs a round house kick knocking her to the ground. She saw him offering a hand which she took. Hiro too was improving not only with his own knowledge of self defense compliments of his brother, but with Kims help. 

He was able to avoid water blasts from water guns that Ron was firing at him from behind a cardboard cut out of Shego. Gogo who was now wearing her mag lev skates slide past all the water blasts grabbed Hiro’s hand and then swung him towards the target and gave it a round house kick. 

Hiro and Gogo gave each other high fives. Back in the garage Hiro was transferring data to something and out of a disk burner came a small data chip coloured in green. He then placed Kims signature logo on the chip compliments of Wade. He then went over to Baymax and opened his access port revealing his health care and superhero chip. 

“Okay buddy ready to take it to the next level.” Hiro asked. “Doing shugyo makes me a better health care companion.” Baymax replied and so Hiro placed the chip into Baymax which then retracted into his chest. 

Soon everyone was taking a break from their training and soon Hiro arrived with Baymax armoured up. Hiro then laid out some small devices in the garden and then opened his laptop typed in several commands and then Wade appeared on his desktop. 

“Okay Wade let it rip!” Hiro said “Right initiating training exercise.” Wade said as he typed in several commands and then activated devices which then projected holograms of several villains including Baron Von Steamer, Shego, High Voltage and Duff Killigan. 

“Baymax Go!” Hiro said and Baymax responded by rocketing forward and the holograms became aware. Holo Steamer fired a huge blast of steam which Baymax then formed his wings flew up into the air then came slamming down to the ground fist first, knocking the hologram to the ground. 

Holo High Voltage then attacked, and Baymax was quick to avoid it and rocket forwards performing a round house kick then saw Shego coming and backflipped over her back and in slow-motion fired his rocket fist from his left hand and knocked down the two holograms in one shot.

Kim was all but amazed by Baymax’s abilities and noticed how his fighting style was similar to hers, she then remembered how Hiro told her he’d made a chip full of combat programs for the original Baymax (the one Tadashi built) when they were starting out. So it was clear he had programmed him with her skills. 

Holo Duff then fired some explosive golfballs and Baymax quickly reacted by deflecting two with his left hand then jumped into the air rolled into a ball then kicked away the next three that holo Duff fired which didn’t hit him but Baymax then landed in front of him and then just looked down on him. 

“Aye I surrender!” Said Holo Duff and with that Wade and Hiro ended the exercise and the hologram disappeared.

(Music ends)

“Whooo!” Fred said in excitement. “That was amazing Baymax!” Honey Lemon said. “Not bad.” Gogo said. “Boyah Baymax!” Ron said excitedly. 

“Spankin job big guy.” Kim congratulated. Baymax then turned round to Kim and lifted up his right fist. 

“Uh..” Kim said confused. “Now we fist bump.” Baymax then said blinking. 

“Wait you know how to fist bump?” Kim said with a raised eyebrow. “Yes Hiro taught it to me.” Baymax replied. 

“Yeah I kinda did.” Hiro said rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Come on KP just go with it.” Ron suggested. “Don’t leave him hanging” 

Kim decided to just listen to Ron and the others and so. 

“Okay.” Kim then fist bumped with Baymax. “Bah-la-la-la-la-la-la” Baymax then said wiggling his fingers in the air after the bump leaving Kim with an even more confused look than before. 

Just then Kim’s Kimmunicator beeped and she answered it. “Go Wade.” She said. 

“Kim you guys may want to check the latest news casts.” Wade advised then bringing up a news report from San Fransokyo and their reporter Duff Blunder was on the scene. 

“This is Duff Blunder reporting live from San Fransokyo bridge where citizens are being attacked by what appears to be three individuals with jet packs.” Duff said through his microphone as he was on the bridge with panicking citizens. Suddenly dropping from the air came three armoured individuals two men and a woman each wore matching black armoured suits with grey underneath and red visors on their faces.

The first was a caucasian male with blonde hair and a muscular build, with a darker beard than his hair colour. The second was a dark skinned male who is bald and has a dark beard on his face and is more muscular than his compatriots. The woman was tanned skinned has long brown hair but a shaved off part on the right side of her head and wears red lipstick. 

“I’ll take that thanks!” Jack said snatching the microphone off Duff blunder and looking into the camera. 

“Hi there the names Jack, these are my compatriots Jaq and Jack” He said introducing his compatriots who took up action poses. 

“Together we are the Mad Jacks, normally we’re mercenaries for hire but today we’re making an acceptation several months ago we were humiliated and defeated and so I hereby announce a challenge to Big Hero 6, unless they agree to face us at the bridge my associates and I shall detonate bombs at key points under the bridge.” Greg Jack announced 

“So what’ll it be Heroes? you have two hours don’t keep us waiting.” Greg Jack said. 

The team looked at the footage in shock especially Hiro and his friends. 

“Old friends of yours?” Ron asked “Not exactly.” Hiro said. 

“Yeah the Mad Jacks are villains we’ve faced before their an elite special ops unit who work for the highest bidder.” Fred explained. 

“I’ve heard about them professional mercenaries for hire, and I thought Team Impossible gloated a lot.” Kim said. 

“Well Hiro was able to help us stop them despite being sick and with a broken leg.” Wasabi then explained. 

“Whoa talk about being a stubborn patient.” Kim pointed out. “Well if you think about it KP you went on a mission when we were full of a cold.” Ron pointed out remembering their Sick Day episode. 

“So it looks like their back for a rematch.” Gogo said. “Then it’s time we put our training to the test.” Hiro suggested. “Hey guys care to give us a hand?” 

“No need to ask we’re in.” Kim said confidently. “Okay guys suit up!” Hiro then announced. 

The team each suited up in their armours and bore their gadgets, whilst Kim and Ron dressed in their normal mission clothes Kim span her hair dryer grappling hook round her finger then placed it into her belt pouch. Then Rufus appeared and Ron noticed he was wearing armour identical to Baymax’s except it was in the same colour scheme as Kims mission suit and he wore the armour on his chest and hands. 

“Whoa Rufus sweet armour!” Ron said “Yep” Rufus squeaked. “Yeah saw him taking an interest in Baymax’s suit so I made him one of his own.” Hiro said and soon everyone was riding Baymax’s back as he rocketed across the city with his jet boosters. 

Hiro rode on Baymax using his magnetic gloves and pads while Gogo, Honey Lemon and Kim held onto the wings while on Baymax. Rufus held onto Kim as well. 

“Okay I’ll admit this is a killer view.” Kim said impressed. “Maybe if you were on his back!” Ron called as he and Wasabi were holding onto Baymax’s arms while he held onto Fred via his suit collar and he was posing like super man as Fred pretended to fly.

Ron wasn’t enjoying a single moment of this. “This is not cool man!” He said practically yelling. 

“How’d you think I feel I’m terrified of heights!” Wasabi exclaimed to Ron. 

Soon they were approaching their destination and the police were doing the best they could to barricade people off the bridge until the crisis was over.

“Look!” Called a woman and they saw Big Hero 6 and Team Possible arrive on the scene and the crowd cheered knowing the heroes had arrived. 

Baymax landed on the bridge and the rest of the team disembarked, however there was no sign of the Mad Jacks anywhere. 

“Where are they?” Honey Lemon said the rest of the team looked around but were a little cautious, Kim didn’t like the looks of this one little bit. 

Baymax scanned the area for any sign of trouble and when he looked up he saw something alarming. 

“Oh no” Baymax said and Kim looked up to see what he was alerting them about and her eyes widened in shock.

“LOOK OUT!” Kim shouted and everyone jumped out of the way of an incoming laser blast and were quick to avoid the impact. Everyone quickly recovered and got back up on their feet just as the Mad Jacks floated down using their jet packs.

“Well look who decided to show.” Said Jaq with a smirk. 

“So you guys still sore about us beating you last time?!” Hiro said “Oh you mean how you outsmarted and humiliated us!” Greg Jack said with a smirk.

“Well now it’s payback time!” Jack grunted. “Oh and I see you have help, your going to need it.” Greg Jack said noticing the presence of Kim and Ron. 

“Mad Jacks lets take em” Greg Jack yells and they fly in and attack, the team then scatter Hiro climbs aboard Baymax who takes to the sky after the three villains. 

“Jack, Jaq, take care of the six on the ground I’ll take care of the big bot and their leader.” Greg Jack ordered. “Copy that!” Said the two Jacks. Baymax and Hiro began chasing Greg Jack in the sky whilst the rest of the team take on the other two. 

The two Mad Jacks pull out their laser blasters and try to blast the team. Gogo and Honey Lemon jump to the left whilst Kim, Ron, Fred and Wasabi jumped to the right. 

“We need to find those bombs if they go off everyone still on this bridge will be toast.” Gogo said. 

Kim then reached for her Kimmunicator. “Wade scan for the bombs!” Kim said “Way ahead of you.” Wade said and after a few typing commands on his keyboard he soon heard a beep sounding that he found what he was looking for. 

“Got it! They’re under the bridge on the centre support!” Wade relayed as he showed a diagram of the bridge. 

“Wade put me through to Hiro!” Kim ordered. Meanwhile Hiro and Baymax were in a dog fight with Greg Jack who was trying to shoot them down with his laser bazooka. 

“Eat laser bot!” Greg Jack exclaimed. Baymax was able to doge the blasts and Hiro held on to his back. 

“Hiro you there!?” Kim said on the coms. “Yeah kinda busy!” Hiro replied. “We’ve located the bombs there under the bridge, near the centre support.” Kim relayed. 

Hiro looked down to the bridge and with the scanner in his helmet scanned the bridge and zoomed in to see several bomb like devices attached to the bridge. 

“I see them.” Hiro relayed. 

Back on the bridge the rest of the team were contending with Jack and Jaq. Gogo used her mag lev skates to skate and avoid the blasts then jumps and throws her mag lev disks at Jack which he then deflects. 

“That all you got speedy!” Jack exclaimed. “Okay time to use our training.” Gogo said 

“Honey let’s ground these chumps.” Gogo said “ Thought you’d never ask.” Honey Lemon said as she typed in a formula on her chem-purse and made two chem balls and threw the, both at the bridge supports, they explode and expand into a splat wall of elastic goop. 

(Music starts playing- Immortals Fallout boy)

Gogo then kneels down on all fours and revs up on her discs and launched herself forward into the ‘sling shot’ and pulled back all the way to the other end of the support until she was catapulted forwards into the air, heading straight for jack pulled back a fist then POW right in the face which sent him flying into the pillar at the far side of the bridge. 

Gogo then skated as she landed on the ground and Honey Lemon rushed to her. 

“Oh yeah Speed punch!” Gogo said “way to go Gogo!” Honey Lemon said giving her a high five. However they didn’t notice that Jaq was flying towards them. 

“Guys heads up!” Ron called to them they turned and saw Jaq arming her arm cannons. “Your Jacked!” Jaq yelled but suddenly. 

“SUPER JUMP!” Called a voice and she saw Fredzilla jumping in the air above her. 

“FLYING DROP KICK!” Fred yelled and performed a drop kick mid air knocking Jaq to the ground. Honey Lemon peeped a Chem ball and tossed it to Ron. “Throw it Ron.” Homey said and so he threw it to the spot where Jaq landed and it created a pink goo ball trapping her inside. 

“Grr!” Jaq growled as she couldn’t get out of the ball no matter what she tried. 

“You just got gooped” Ron cracked. “Boo yah!” Rufus squeaked. He then noticed Kim was not with them. Kim was below the bridge using some magnetic discs. She held the Kimmunicator up to the bombs so that Wade could properly scan them. 

“Kim I’ve got bad news!” Wade said. “Okay let’s hear it.” Kim asked. 

“Well, the bad news is the bombs can’t be disarmed manually there’s about five different triggers.” Wade explained. “Is there a way to disable it?” Kim asked with worry. 

“Yes disable the master detonator and that’ll disarm the bombs.” Wade surmised. 

“Well where is the trigger?” Kim asked. “I’ll scan for it” Wade began scanning for the bomb trigger and soon found it.

“Oh boy.” Wade said 

Baymax and Hiro were still in the air fighting Greg Jack who is chasing them with his laser bazooka Baymax was able to avoid the blast Hiro looks back and sees the Mad Jack behind them. 

“Hiro there’s a way to disarm the bombs!” Kim relayed on the coms. “Okay what is it?” Hiro asked. 

“The guy chasing you he has it, it’s located in his gauntlet on the left wrist.” Kim relayed. “Right that’s going to be a problem.” Hiro said seeing how Greg Jack was dead set on shooting the, down. 

From the bridge Kim could see the issue and from her back pack forms her jet pack and rockets into the sky. 

Back on the bridge the Police try to keep the crowd back within that crowd was Karmi who was trying to record what was happening. However she looked up to see Baymax and Hiro or as she knew them Captain Cutie and Red Panda fighting Greg Jack whilst the rest of the team deal with Jack who had regained consciousness. Then all of a sudden she saw a figure emerge fro, the bridge she zoomed in on it using her phones camera. 

“No way is that!” Karmi gasped her phone camera showed her it was Kim Possible fighting alongside Big Hero 6 she couldn’t believe it.

Meanwhile Baymax launches his rocket fist at Greg Jack, who used his jet pack to avoid it then fires his blaster at them which Baymax quickly avoids it as his fist returns to him. 

Then suddenly Greg Jack received a kick in the back delivered by Kim Possible he manages to stabilise himself and looked to see Kim just as Baymax flew next to her with Hiro. 

“You got the drop on me impressive miss...” “The names Kim Possible, ring a bell.” Kim said answering Greg Jacks question. 

“Oh yeah now I remember your the hero with a lame website it doesn’t even have a cool theme song.” Greg Jack cracked. 

“Says the guys all called the same name, Greg” Hiro then cracked. “Wait your names Greg but your all called the Mad Jacks?” Kim asked “yeah it’s really a code name found that out when we first fought and won.” Hiro then added. 

Greg Jack just growled with frustration. “Enough talk time to blast stuff!” He yelled as he blasted the two of them but they quickly avoided the blast. 

He kept blasting the three heroes with his bazooka until finally he clipped the wing of Kim’s jet pack causing her to spin out of control.

“Kim!” Hiro yelled, Kim quickly managed to get her jet pack off but was still falling to the ground Baymax quickly rockets down after her and reaches out with his hand. Reacting quickly Kim pulls out her grappling hair dryer and fires it towards Baymax who grabs it and swings it round lifting her into the air for her to land on Baymax’s back. 

Her grappling hook retracts leaving Hiro completely amazed. 

“You always carry a hair dryer with you?” Hiro said in amazement. 

“Never leave home without one, it’s saved me on multiple occasions not just life and death but also hair crisis.” Kim breathed. 

Suddenly Baymax avoided another blast from Greg Jack and flew away as he chased him. 

“He is still shooting at us.” Baymax said “no kidding, we’ve got to get that detenator!” Kim said to Hiro, “Then we’ll need to ground him.” Hiro suggested. 

(Music ends)

Back on the ground Wasabi was using his plasma blades to deflect blasts from Jack who was recovered and blasting them with his wrist blasters. Ron was running quickly to avoid them. 

“Yow, yikes!” Ron said avoiding the blasts. Fred then charged forwards and using his suits enhanced jumping skills he performed a triple back flip.

 “Homey chem ball me!” Fredzilla said and she fired a pink chemball from her purse and on the third flip Fredzilla kicked the ball into Jack and the chemball exploded and stuck him to the ground. 

“Boyah Fred!” Ron cheered. However their celebration was interrupted by the sound of laser fire they looked up to see Baymax, Hiro and Kim struggling against Greg Jack and getting the detonator from him. 

“We’ve gotta help them!” Honey Lemon said. “They’re too high up and none of us can fly.” Gogo said knowing that Baymax was the only one on the team who could fly. Or was he? 

Rufus pulled on Rons shirt and he saw that his mole rat friend was wearing armour similar to Baymax including its ability to fly. 

“Wait, Rufus! You can help them!” Ron said and Rufus nodded and almost on cue wings emerged from his armour and he posed like superman and rocketed into the sky. 

“Go get um!” Ron called which left the rest of the team skeptical looks as to how a small mole rat can help their friends. 

Greg Jack is going all out trying to shoot Baymax down he was beaten by these heroes before there’s no way he was going to let this happen again it would be an insult to his profession. 

However he felt a tap on his head and he turned to see a small pink rodent dressed up in armour with a jet pack. 

“Whuh?” Greg Jack said in surprise. “Hello” Rufus squeaked he then kicks Greg Jack in the face who cries in. Pain as he got hit in the mouth Rufus quickly flies away and Greg tries to grab him but misses. 

“Hold still you little..” Greg jack growled and Rufus just spits his tongue like a child which winds up the Mad Jack even more. 

However he’s so focused on the armoured naked mole rat he neglected a certain someone coming right at him. 

“Hey!” Called a voice and Greg Jack turns to see Baymax heading right for him with Hiro and Kim riding him. However strangely as Greg braces for impact he sees the flying red robot missed him as he flew right by. 

“Ha! You missed!” He shouted. Suddenly Hiro lands on his back and then hits a button on Greg’s jet pack which releases it from his armour. 

“Oh no...” Greg Jack gulped. “JACK DOWN AGAAAAIIIIIN!” He yelled as he fell to the ground and Hiro was falling right behind him but then Baymax swings in and Kim manages to grab him as they fly down and grab Greg Jack and lower him to the ground safely. 

“Nice one guys!” Honey Lemon cheered just then Rufus hovers down and lands on Baymax’s shoulder who turns to see him. 

“Flying makes you a better companion Rufus.” Baymax said and Rufus smiles and offers his tiny fist for a. “Fist bump” he squeaked. 

Baymax raises his fist and they bump them. 

“ “Bah-la-la-la-la-la-la” The two said. “So” said Greg Jack getting their attention. “You think this is over?” 

“Uh yeah.” Kim said taking the detonator from the compartment in his gauntlet and presses a red button that said disabled. Below the bridge the bombs then deactivate. 

“Your bombs are disabled, your revenge done.” Kim listed. ‘“Oh and look.” Kim then pointed and they saw a fleet of helicopters but they didn’t belong to the SFPD. 

“There’s Global Justice already here to Cart you guys away to prison.” Kim then pointed out. “Seems you guys have worked for a number of people on their most wanted list and you’ve committed a number of offences on their radar.” She then explained. 

“Yeah sounds like someone tipped them off.” Ron then added with a smirk. 

“Grr how did you guys get so good!” Greg Jack then asked Big Hero 6. 

“Easy ‘Greg’ we’ve been training.” Hiro smirked “with the best.” He said looking to Kim who could only smile. 

Soon Global Justice took the three Mad Jacks away to be incarcerated at their jail facility, whilst an officer of GJ explained everything to the police officer at the scene. 

“Okay guys seriously, were we awesome? Or were we totally AWSOME!” Fredzilla said in excitement. 

“I’ll admit, that was cool we’ve never taken down an enemy of ours that easily before.” Gogo admitted. 

“Yeah, did you see that sling shot move we did!” Honey Lemon bounced excitedly. 

“Yeah I hereby dub that move the Slingshot Punch!” Fred said. 

“Yeah not to mention I was totally alive out there!” Wasabi said. “What about me I was helping too I drew his fire!” Ron pointed out feeling left out. 

“We acted very efficiently in neutralising the target.” Baymax diagnosed. 

“We stopped the bombs, thanks to Rufus.” Hiro said thanking the Molerat. 

“But Kim I have to know how did you know that the Mad Jacks were wanted by those GJ guys?” Hiro then asked. 

“Oh that’s easy during the fight I had Wade do some research into them hacking their website..” “Cool theme some by the way.” Ron then interrupts Kim. 

“...yeah anyway Wade found the list of a number of clients they’ve worked for in the past including a number of war lords, crime bosses and of course a few super villains.” Kim listed 

“To cut a long story short forward the info to some fiends of ours in GJ and off to jail they go.” Kim finished. 

“Wow, you really can do anything.” Hiro said impressed. Kim could only smile humbly by this compliment. Just then.

“Oh my, that was AWESOME!” Shrieks a voice and they turned to see Karmi standing behind them. 

“An actually team up between Kim Possible and Big Hero 6!” Karmi said excitedly. 

“Oh I’ve got to get a picture of this.” She then said holding up her camera phone to take a photo. 

The nine heroes just stood bemused but decided to pose for a photo while Hiro just kept a natural expression. Karmi takes a photo showing her a photo of Big Hero 6 and Team Possible together. 

“Oh I’m so writing a fan fic about this Captain Cutie teams up with teen hero Kim Possible!” Karmi said practically bouncing away in excitement and could already picture her fan fiction taking place featuring chibi versions of the team and Kim. 

Hiro just grimaced at the thought of what she just said. 

“Captain Cutie?” Kim smirked with a raised eyebrow “Don’t ask” Hiro groaned. 

Meanwhile

Whilst events transpired at the bridge, far away in a old derelict warehouse on the dark side of town a lone figure stands alone in the darkness. 

It was really Shego except something was different on her wrists she now wore metal gauntlet like devices with glowing green lines on them. Ever since her little meeting with Obake he left them for her as a ‘gift’. Though a little skeptical she decided to test his present somewhere away from prying eyes and she knew Drakken would just ask questions. 

She looked at the gauntlets and they did seem to fit perfectly and surprisingly they didn’t clash with her outfit. However she was still unclear to their function. 

“Alright let’s see what glow face’s toy can do.” She said to herself. 

She infighter her powers as normal this then caused the gauntlets to activate which then caused her energy to glow brighter even her eyes started to glow a little. 

She threw an energy blast at a crate in the warehouse and it immediately blew it into a million pieces. She was completely shocked.

“Whoa! My blasts were never that powerful?” She said in amazement. She looked to her gauntlets and when she touched one of the lines it took her energy and formed it into a blade comprised of her energy. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

She then smirked and swung her arm blade like a samurai and then with one swipe let loose a huge energy wave that completely incinerated two of the rear pillars. 

She then bore a sadistic smile as her eyes glowed green and her hands burned with enhanced energy. 

“Oh ho ho ho! Me likie.” She said “whoever that guy is he’s right it’s time to see what potential I have!” Shego said and let loose a huge blast of energy from her hands. 

End of chapter 4

Whoa looks like Shego got an upgrade, looks like BH6 is gonna need that training Kim’s given them. Yes Obake has started to get involved in this story but still not the main villain (yet) The gauntlets were actually inspired by the KP 2019 live action film whilst they did make it look like the source of Shegos powers it didn't work for me so I’ve repurposed them as energy enhancers in this story.In terms of the Mad Jacks I always thought of them as the Team Impossible of the BH6 Universe except with more showmanship and cooler toys. So I was a bit gutted not seeing them in season 2 of the series lets hope they return for season 3 , but this did give me an idea revolving around their absence namely caught by higher authority. Chapter 5 coming soon. 

[remywrites5]

hiiii i really love your blog and i may or may not have spent the weekend binge reading your posts.... 😂 anyway i’ve had a kinda shitty day and i was wondering if you could maybe write something with james x regulus? if not that’s totally fine haha thank you!!!!!!

Hi nonny! I’m pretty sure this ask is like years old and I’m really sorry it took me so long! You probably don’t even follow me anymore but if you do I hope your days have gotten better! But either way here’s a little something for you: 

***

           “Oi, Jamie,” Sirius said, poking his head into James’ room. “Just a reminder that my brother is coming to visit for the weekend.”

           James groaned. “Sirius, no!” he complained, shutting his chemistry book. “You’ll disappear with Remus for the entire weekend and I’ll be stuck babysitting your brother, who I’ve never even met!”

           Sirius rolled his eyes. “First of all, Reg is only a year younger than us, you won’t be babysitting anyone. Second of all, we’re all going to a party at Mckinnon’s tonight so you won’t be stuck alone with him the whole time.”

           “Just part of the time?”

           Sirius shrugged. “I mean I’ll do my best…”

           “God, you’re the worst fucking friend,” James grumbled, opening his chemistry book back up and attempting to cram for his test later that day.    

           “Oh and Jamie?”

           “Yes?

           “Don’t be a prick, alright?

           Sirius ducked out of the way as a chemistry book went flying towards his head.

                                                           ***

           “Honey, we’re home,” Sirius sing-songed as he arrived back from picking Regulus up from the train station. James sighed and got out of bed, figuring he might as well try to be nice to the intruder. It wasn’t that James was opposed to people visiting for the weekend, it was just that Sirius and Remus were attached at the hip, and James hadn’t been making any progress with Evans. He knew it was selfish, but he hated other people being happy when he was fairly miserable. The last thing he wanted to do this weekend was hang around some snotty-nosed younger sibling.

            He stepped out into the hallway and saw the Black brothers together for the first time. It wasn’t hard to tell they were related, same inky black hair, same impossibly high cheekbones, matching grey eyes. But where Sirius was all rough edges and rock and roll, Regulus was all smooth and posh. Unlike Sirius, who kept his hair long and shoulder length and a decent amount of stubble on his face, Regulus had his hair styled, cut short on the side and long on top to fall into his eyes in a very chic way. He was also clean-shaven and James could only imagine he had all kinds of fancy potions and after-creams to give him that effect.

           “Hello,” Regulus said, holding his hand out to James, already being ever so polite. “You must be James. It’s nice to meet you.”

           “Nice to meet you too,” James said, making the handshake a little rougher than was strictly necessary.

           Sirius grinned broadly and threw his arms around each of their shoulders, drawing them close to him. “My two brothers, together at last!”

           “Gerroff,” James growled, shoving Sirius away and into Regulus.

           Sirius shrugged and hugged Regulus more thoroughly. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

           Regulus blushed, his eyes meeting James and then darting away quickly. “Yes, you kept saying on the ride over here.”

           James snorted. “I’ll put some tea on.”

                                                           ***

           The party was already in full swing by the time they’d gotten there. Marlene lived in a flat off campus with a few other girls and even though it was bigger than the dormitories, it still couldn’t really fit the amount of people currently occupying it. Just moving around the party was like swimming through jelly. James had spilled at least a cup and a half of beer on himself just from trying to navigate the party.

           As predicted, Sirius ditched them the moment they got to the party and he found the familiar head of his favorite tawny-haired nerd. James hadn’t exactly been keeping the closest eye on Regulus since then but he was slightly alarmed when he realized Reg wasn’t close by. “Fucking great,” James mumbled to himself, trying to finish his drink just as someone knocked his elbow and the entire contents of his red solo cup splashed over his face. “Fuck this.”

           James edged his way towards the door and somehow managed to get it open. Getting outside was a relief, being able to smell something other than booze and sweat. He shoved his glass up to the top of his head and lifted his shirt up to wipe his face clean. When he replaced his glasses, he noticed a figure in his periphery. He turned his head to find Regulus leaning against the building smoking a cigarette. He looked a bit like an ad from a magazine, the way his leg was bent so his foot could rest against the wall behind him, his face tilted back to reveal the pale expanse of his neck. James swallowed thickly. He was absolutely not going to fancy his best mate’s little brother. Regulus was Off Limits.

           James walked down the front steps of the building and stood in front of Regulus. “Does Sirius know you smoke?” he asked, raising a judgmental eyebrow at the younger man.

           “Is it his business?” Regulus countered, taking a long drag from his ciggy and blowing it intentionally in James’ face in a very obvious fuck off. 

           James waved his hand in front of his face to clear the smoke and exhaled loudly in disapproval. Christ, he sounded so much like his dad. “You’re nothing like what I imagined.”

           “Yeah?” Reg said, flicking ash onto the ground below. “What were you imagining? A toddler?”

           James shrugged. “You hear the words little brother and you’re not exactly what people picture, alright?”

           “Sirius never showed you a picture of me?” Regulus asked, sounding a little hurt by the prospect.

           “He has,” James said quickly, not wanting to give Reg the wrong idea. Sirius actually talked about him a lot, constantly worrying about Reg being stuck at home with their awful parents while Sirius was at University. At least next year Reg would be joining them and Sirius could stop being so concerned all the bloody time. “I just think most of the pictures he’s shown me were from when you were a lot younger. Still had your spots.”

           Regulus smiled and took another drag. “He’s shown me pictures of you too,” he said, his smile becoming a little more sinister. “The one when you fell asleep drunk and he glued the deer horns to your head.”

           James groaned in humiliation. “The next time I see Sirius he’s a dead man!”

           Regulus laughed and dropped his cigarette, sliding his designer shoes over it to put it out. “What are friends for, right?”

           “Yeah,” James said, trying not to sound sad as he said it. He was happy for Sirius and Remus, he really was. The first few months of Uni had been torture, watching Sirius and Remus dance around each other, both clearly interested but not saying it. It had been a relief to see them finally get over their shit and get together. But that didn’t mean James didn’t miss the old days of the three of them being friends, not that they weren’t still friends, but things had changed.

                                               ***

           Sirius, of course, went over to Remus’ after the party, leaving James to get Regulus set up on their beat up old sofa. He pulled out the only spare blankets they had, just a thin sheet, and did his best to make it look comfortable. He showed Regulus how to work the telly, in case he wasn’t ready for bed, and then disappeared into his own room.

           His curiosity got the best of him and he found Regulus’ instagram fairly easily. He thanked his lucky stars that it wasn’t a private account because having Reg know that he was looking was a bit too embarrassing. He began scrolling through the pictures and felt his mouth go dry. Reg knew how to take an amazing photo. James stared in disbelief that the same guy that was currently on his shitty sofa, watching what sounded to be That 70’s Show, could be the same person in these photos.

           His eyes were glued to the screen as he swiped through picture after picture, his body heating up in response. Not good, he thought, trying and failing to remind himself that this was Sirius’ younger brother. Kill me now.

           He was just about to slid his hand under the covers and do something about the ache between his legs when the door to his room opened. James dropped his phone in surprise and sat up, hoping he wasn’t tenting the blankets in an obvious way.

           Regulus made his way over and slipped into James’ bed without asking. James stared at him, his throat working to try and swallow, and he watched in horror and Reg made himself comfortable.

           “What are you doing?” James asked, his mind racing, trying to think of anything to make his erection go away.

           Regulus shrugged. “It’s freezing and your sofa is a piece of shit.”

           “Then go sleep in Sirius’ bed,” James said, dragging his hand over his face. This could not be happening to him.

           “It would still be freezing,” Regulus rationalized, sinking further into the blankets. “This way we can share body heat.”

           James stared at him incredulously.

           Regulus sighed. “Don’t be such a baby, James. Just think of it as survival mode, right?”

           James nodded and got back under the covers, taking care that no part of him was touching Regulus. “Good night,” he said awkwardly, his eyes wide open. He didn’t think he’d be getting much sleep.

           “Good night.”

                                                           ***

           James woke up feeling good. He was warm and comfortable, and except for the arm he was sleeping on that had gone numb, he felt wholly relaxed. It took a moment for his brain to clear the fog and realize that he was spooning Reg. His nose was pressed against the nape of Reg’s neck and they were slotted together from that point of contact down to their feet. James’ crotch was pressed against Reg’ bum and Christ there was no way he couldn’t feel how hard James was.

           Regulus began to stir, his body shifting and James’ hand flew up and grabbed him by the hips to still him. Reg turned his head and smiled wickedly. “Problem, Potter?” he teased, moving his hips just to be a little shit.

           James ripped himself away and tore the covers off, heading into the bathroom. He turned the water to as cold as he could stand it and stood under the spray. Not good, he thought having a crisis right there in the shower. Sure, he’d been attracted to blokes before. This wasn’t a sexual identity crisis because James was bi and proud and would kick the shit out of anyone that had a problem with that.

           The issue was that this was Sirius’ brother and James was fairly certain Sirius would never forgive him. And more importantly Regulus was only there for the weekend. There was no point to be getting all hot and bothered about it. Except that next year Reg would be at this school with them. Shit, James was so utterly and completely fucked.

           Once he’d calmed down, he stepped out of the shower and slung a towel around his waist. He ventured out into the hallway and found Regulus waiting for him. “Have a good cold shower, did we?” he asked, his eyes shinning knowingly.        

           “Fuck off, Reg,” James growled, pushing past him towards his room.

           “You liked one of my pictures,” Reg said to James’ retreating back.

           “What?” James asked, spinning around, droplets falling from his skin onto the floor.

           Regulus took a step towards him but didn’t close the distance between them any further. “Last night, you liked one of my pictures on Instagram. That’s why I came into your room. I thought maybe you had done it on purpose, but I guess it was just an accident, huh?” Regulus laughed awkwardly and scratched at his eyebrow idly.

           James processed what Reg had just said, trying to get past his mortification at having done something so stupid, and went right to Reg coming into his room after knowing James was stalking him online. “So last night…” James started, trying to think of the night words. “Just what were you hoping for?”

           “I don’t know,” Reg responded, staring at the floor. “Something like this morning except without the part of you running away like a frightened deer?”

           James stepped closer, bridging the gap between them a bit. “Why?” he asked, reaching out and tugging Regulus closer by his sleep shirt. Reg stumbled a bit but went willingly. “You don’t even know me.”

           Regulus blushed prettily and ducked his head down. “I feel like I do,” he murmured softly. “On his visits home Sirius would talk about you constantly. You were almost like – fuck – like a fairytale character to me. I kept pressuring Sirius for a visit because I wanted to meet you. God, you must think I’m a stupid little kid with a crush. Please, don’t say anything to Sirius about all this. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

           “Then how will I tell him we’re dating?” James asked, smiling mischievously.

           Regulus shook his head. “Please don’t take the piss right now,” he begged softly. “I don’t think my ego can handle it after this morning.”

           James cupped Regulus’ chin and forced the younger man to meet his gaze. James smiled kindly and traced Reg’s full lips with his thumb. “I wasn’t taking the piss. Although I should probably warn you that I am a bit of a cock-up. I don’t think dating me will be the fairytale you imagined.”

           Regulus bit James’ thumb playfully. “I don’t care,” he said, smiling at James. “Even the beast had some good qualities.”

           “I notice you’ve cast yourself as beauty in the scenario.”

           “You don’t think I’m pretty?” Regulus said, batting his eyelashes.

           James chuckled. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he said honestly, “And also trouble.”

           Regulus grinned. “You don’t mind a bit of trouble, do you, James?” he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

           “Not at all.”

[rushingheadlong]

And I Get Afraid - A Queen gen fic

Summary: Queen has come to a standstill as they try to get their debut album released, and John seems to be the only one left who isn’t optimistic about their chances for success. Now with his graduation quickly approaching, he finds himself struggling to decide between sticking by the band- and his friends- or leaving this sinking ship while he can still make something of his future.

Wordcount: ~4,500

Notes: Queen I was finished by November 1972 and was released in July 1973, and I got pretty emotional thinking about what that 8-month gap must have been like for the band. So this is the result of that.

I have no idea when John actually graduated, but spring of 1973 seems pretty plausible for me so that’s what I’ve gone with here. The fic itself is set in roughly May 1973.

(Title from The Night Comes Down - “And I get afraid of losing my way”. Also posted on AO3 here.)

There’s something strange, John decides, about a band rehearsing with no shows lined up. It’s been ages since their last gig, with no new ones yet on the horizon, but they meet every week without fail in the old practice room at Imperial College, as if they’re still just a student band and not nearly-signed to a label with an album already recorded.

Or maybe that’s the real oddity of their current situation. They finished recording their album months ago but it has yet to see the light of day. They’ve signed a preliminary deal with Trident but until they have a record company willing to release the album there’s little more that they can do except wait.

Queen is stagnating, though John knows better than to say as much aloud. They can’t do a proper tour without an album to promote, so they still work the same uni circuit with the same songs that they’ve performed countless times already. Brian and Roger have been playing Doing All Right for nearly five years now, and John wonders which will be retired first: the song or Queen herself.

The others have started writing new material and it all sounds good so far, but nothing can get recorded until their first album is released. And no one will release their album unless they have a sizeable following, but Queen can’t book larger venues without a record deal to prove their validity, and the whole damn process is so circular that John is beginning to see why so few bands actually seem to make it.

If the others are feeling as adrift in all this as John in, they don’t show it. Roger and Freddie are as dedicated as ever, scraping a living with their stall and saving money by sharing a flat, and Brian still has his thesis to occupy his spare time. The three of them are seemingly unchanged, unphased, unworried about anything, and John has to wonder how they do it when every day he finds himself more and more unsure about where this is all going.

A loud, discordant twang interrupts their playing - and John’s thoughts - and John doesn’t have to look over at Brian to know that he’s caught a string wrong on the edge of his sixpence and broken it.

“Shit. Sorry, sorry, just give me a moment…” Brian mutters, already unplugging his guitar and hurrying over to grab a new string.

Freddie waves off his apology, unbothered by the disruption. “No rush, darling, we’ll just take it from the top when you’re ready.”

“Actually, I have class soon. I’d better get going,” John says as he catches sight of the time. He’s been with Queen for two years and it still feels awkward having to duck out of practice like this, especially now that he’s the last one attending regular classes instead of whatever erratic schedule Brian has adopted with his thesis work.

“Perfect. I think if I had to play for one more minute my arms were going to fall off.” Roger grins at John as he stands from behind his kit, stretching out his arms and back with an exaggerated groan.

“John, do you have a second before you leave?” Freddie asks, ignoring Roger’s theatrics. “We need to discuss our schedules so we can start booking shows again.”

“Fucking finally!” Roger says loudly, his eyes shining bright with excitement of the prospect of performing live again. “Listen, I know a guy, he can get us something for next week-”

“Take it easy, Blondie,” Freddie says with a laugh. “Just because you have no prior obligations doesn’t mean our schedules are free.”

“Our schedules?” Roger echoes. “Don’t try to lump yourself with Brian and John, I know what your fucking calendar looks like, Fred!”

“I have exams starting in a few weeks,” John cuts in before Roger and Freddie can continue their friendly bickering. “If we can keep the shows local…”

“We don’t have to schedule anything at all until the semester is done.” Brian looks up from his guitar and asks, “You’re graduating soon, aren’t you?”

John nods, though his stomach rolls with anxiety at the reminder that the end of his university career is approaching at a frankly terrifying speed. “Yeah, in June.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Freddie scribble down a note on a scrap of paper. It’s the only chance the singer has of remembering anything, but John isn’t optimistic that he’ll manage to keep track of the paper at all.

“We’ll have to throw you a proper celebration next month then,” Freddie says, and John has no doubt that he fully intends to do just that. “What about after you graduate, though? Any plans for the rest of the summer?”

That’s the question that John has been trying to answer for most of the semester so far, but he’s still no closer to figuring out what his next steps should be. “Nothing yet, no,” John says as he busies himself with packing away his bass, rather than looking at the others.

“Perfect,” Freddie says. That is definitely not the adjective John would have used, but he doesn’t feel moved to offer any alternatives. “Brian? What about you, any plans?”

“No.”

There’s a beat of silence in the practice room after that curt response, noticeable enough that John looks up and glances over at Brian. He’s still fiddling with his guitar, though the new string is already in place, and he radiates a discomfort that can almost be physically felt.

John’s curiosity is piqued and he’s apparently not alone, because Freddie keeps pressing the issue. “What about for your thesis? Don’t you have to go back to Tenerife or something?”

“No. I’m, ah-” Brian shifts and finally looks up, locking eyes with Freddie. John watches as some silent conversation takes place between them, something that he can’t quite figure out even after two years of knowing them.

Still, it must somehow reassure Brian because after several long moments he sighs and says, “My thesis advisor recommended that I stay in England this year. He thinks I have enough research already, and that I should take the summer to either make substantial progress on writing my thesis or… or figure out where my priorities actually lie.”

“What does that mean?” Freddie asks.

It’s Roger who answers the question first. “It means he’s thinking of giving up on his thesis.”

“Not giving up, just…” Brian huffs, looking for the right explanation. “I’m already focusing more on the band anyway, and when the album is released we’ll have to do a proper tour to promote it so I’ll have even less time for my studies. It may be better for me to get my research in order and, well, set it aside for now.”

That sounds like giving up to John, and it’s the last thing he ever expected to hear Brian say. He feels a little like his world has been turned upside and he realizes, with a slow, sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, that this might make him the last member of Queen to have reservations about their future together as a band.

“I haven’t decided anything yet, obviously,” Brian continues, unaware that John feels suddenly lost in both this conversation and this group. “But it is something that I’m thinking about.”

“Well, I think taking the summer to consider your options sounds like a wonderful idea,” Freddie says, his voice both bright and firm enough to leave no room for one of Brian’s darker moods to creep in. “We’ll just schedule a few shows here and there to get back into the swing of things and give you time to think things over. Does that sound good to everyone?”

Brian just nods, and Roger says, “Yeah, that sounds fine. Doesn’t make much sense to do a larger tour while most people are off on summer holidays anyway, and with any luck the album will be out by the time the fall semester starts up.”

For a moment John can’t find his voice, struck senseless by the feeling of being an outsider in this band long after he managed to carve out a niche for himself. Only this time he doesn’t feel alone because he’s the newcomer, but because he’s seemingly the only one who can see how ridiculous it sounds to be discussing a possible tour for an album that’s been sitting untouched for over six months now and shows no signs of getting released any time soon.

“Fine by me,” John forces himself to say, because it’s the expected response and it’s easier than trying to break down his maelstrom of emotions into something the others would be able to understand. “But I’ve really got to run now, so…”

The others wave him off with a flurry of goodbyes, and John ducks quickly out of the building and into the bright afternoon light. He takes a deep breath and exhales shakily, and realizes almost as an afterthought that his whole body is trembling with the lingering anxiety from the conversation that just happened.

He fumbles for his pack of cigarettes and, after several failed attempts to get one lit, he ducks around the corner of the building to get out of the wind. The rush of nicotine eventually calms the tremors but it does nothing to quiet his thoughts, and he lights another cigarette after finishing his first even though he knows it won’t help like he needs it to.

The only thing that will help is to finally decide what to do about his future, but the choice isn’t as simple as choosing between Queen and starting a professional career. It’s choosing between his friends and his music, and something foreign and unknown. It’s choosing between an assurance of security and stability, and a band that doesn’t seem to be going anywhere at all.

He loves Queen with all his heart, but that doesn’t drown out the voice that tells him to be practical here. He wishes it could. He wishes that he could have the confidence in Queen that the others all seem to have, that Brian has somehow managed to finally find… but he doesn’t. And he thinks he hates himself a little bit for that.

“John?” It’s Roger, holding his own pack of cigarettes in his hand, and giving John a look of understandable confusion. “I thought you had class?”

“I do- I did.” John flicks away his cigarette butt and, after a split-second of consideration, lights a third one. “I think I might be skipping today.”

“Huh. That’s a bit unusual for you, isn’t it?” Roger lights his own cigarette and takes a long drag. “You’ve always been more like Brian, taking your classes seriously and all,” he adds.

“Yeah, well, Brian’s apparently not taking things too seriously anymore himself,” John mutters.

Roger gives him a sideways glance. “Is that what’s got you all out of sorts? That Brian’s thinking of quitting his thesis?”

“Who says I’m out of sorts?” John knows that the deflection won’t work with Roger, but he still has to try it anyway.

“You’re out here chain-smoking and dodging class,” Roger says. “If that doesn’t scream “out of sorts” for you then I don’t know what does.”

John shrugs, noncommittal, and ignores Roger’s huff when he realizes that he’ll have to wait for an explanation. It’s not that John doesn’t want to talk about this; truthfully, he thinks it’ll do him some good to finally get this off his chest. But he’s kept this to himself for so long now that finding the right words is unexpectedly difficult.

“Brian said he’ll have to quit his studies to tour when the album gets released. Not if it does, but when,” John says at last. He knows that there has to be a better way to start this conversation, but Brian’s words are still fresh in John’s mind and this is the only place he can think of to begin.

“So what? Is it a crime for him to finally have a bit of optimism?” Roger asks.

“No, of course not,” John says, rolling his eyes at Roger’s flair for the dramatic. “It’s just, I’m not sure that I feel the same.”

“Oh.” John knows that Roger has more to say on the matter than just that, and sure enough after a moment he launches into an impassioned - though rather predictable - speech. “I know it’s been slow going these last few months, but the album’s going to be picked up sooner or later! It’s good stuff, you know it is, it’s just a matter of finding the right record company to work with to get it released. You’ve just got to be patient-”

“I have been patient,” John interrupts. “I’ve been patient for the last six months, and it was fine while I was in uni and when I wasn’t the only one still studying. But now Brian’s thinking of quitting his thesis and I’m… I don’t know that I’m as committed as you lot are. All I know is that I’m graduating next month, and I can’t keep my life on hold forever while Queen still waits for her big break.”

Roger isn’t an idiot and he immediately reads between the lines of what John is saying, just like John knew he would. “You’re thinking of leaving the band.”

John finishes his cigarette, and wonders if it would be overkill to light a fourth. Probably, he decides, so he shoves his hands in his pockets instead and leans against the side of the building, near Roger but not quite looking at him as he says, “Thinking of it, yeah. But I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Don’t do it.”

John snorts. “That’s easy for you to say. If Queen fails, you’ll just form another group. Music’s in your blood, Rog. I’m not sure it’s in mine.”

“That’s bullshit,” Roger snaps, almost properly angry now. John had been wondering how long it would take for Roger’s temper to flare up, and the answer apparently was not very long at all. “You’re one of the best fucking bassists I’ve ever met.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to hold auditions again.” And because I don’t get in the way of you three at all, he thinks, though he knows that’s unfair. Maybe at the beginning he was only valued for being quiet and easy-going but that’s not the case anymore.

Maybe if it was, it would be easier for John to walk away.

“No. Well- yes, I really don’t want to audition for a new bassist,” Roger says, and John finds himself smiling despite himself. “But… fuck, Deacy, you’re excellent. I’ve played with enough bassists over the years, heard even more of ‘em try to play, and you are miles above any of them. I don’t know what it is but you just get it. Whenever you decide to stop playing the world will be much worse off for it. So don’t stop now, when you still have so much you can do.”

The sincere compliment catches John off-guard. It’s not that he doesn’t know he’s talented - he’s self-aware enough to know that he’s good, and though Queen strives for perfection they’re all generous with their praise when things are going well. But this is different than a quiet, “Nicely done, John,” from Brian or an effusive, “Wonderful sound, Deacy, simply perfect!” from Freddie - and, truthfully, John doesn’t know how to respond to it.

So he doesn’t, choosing instead of focusing only on the last bit of what Roger said. “It’s not that simple, Rog. Most of the jobs for new graduates start over the summer, and I can’t very well take a full-time position and still play with Queen. I’d have to give the band up.”

Roger flicks away his cigarette butt and lights another. “So don’t take a full-time position then.”

“I have to earn a living somehow, and it’s not like we’re getting rich with Queen any time soon,” John points out. It’s blunt, and maybe a bit harsh, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

“You can come work at the stall with me and Freddie.”

That startles a laugh out of John, and his steadily growing frustration at Roger’s stubbornness almost immediately vanishes. “That place barely rakes in enough money to support you two! And besides, I’m not much of a salesman.”

“And you think Freddie is? He just pesters people until they agree to buy something just to shut him up.” Roger grins at him and John smiles back, though it takes more effort than it normally would. Roger has always been able to brighten John’s mood, no matter the circumstances, but it’s hard for John to muster up any sincere happiness when he finds himself wondering if this friendship could survive John leaving the band.

The conversation comes to a comfortable halt after that, and John is a little surprised to find that there’s no tension or awkwardness in the silence he shares with Roger. Most of John’s earlier anxiety is gone, vanished now that he’s shared his dilemma with someone else, and he finds that he’s content to lean against the building, watching the smoke from Roger’s cigarette trail off into the late afternoon sky, and wait for his friend to say something again.

After a few minutes Roger sighs and finally breaks the silence. “Listen, John, I’m gonna be honest with you here. This worrying about needing a “proper job”... I don’t get it. I don’t understand it with Brian and I don’t understand it with you, because you were right - music is all I want to do. The only thing I learned at uni was that I’m not built to be a scientist… but I guess you are. And if you want to take off and become an electrical engineer, well, I’d get it. Queen won’t be the same without you, but I suppose if you’re determined then we can’t exactly stop you.”

“Is this supposed to be convincing me to stay?” John asks, a bit quiet, because he thinks he needs that right now. He needs Roger to give him a reason to stay, something that he can’t refute with logic and reason, something he can cling to as he heads towards his graduation and that uncertain future beyond.

“I don’t know that I can convince you,” Roger says, and the honesty hurts a little to hear. “All I know is that Queen will succeed. I know we will, but I can’t explain how or why I know that. It’s just a gut feeling I have, and maybe I’m naive for clinging to that despite how rough the last few months have been... but it’s all I have. And it’s all I can offer you.”

He scuffs out his half-finished cigarette on the brick of the building and pockets it as he turns to face John properly. “You don’t have to leave, not yet anyway. Give us the summer, same as Brian is. Get a seasonal job to tide you over, and if September rolls around and you still want to stop… Well, I’m sure there’ll still be places hiring electrical engineers then.”

“And what do you think can happen in the next three months, that hasn’t happened in the last six?” John asks, still skeptical, still hesitant, still afraid of choosing the wrong path and having to live with that regret for the rest of his life.

But Roger just smiles at him, easy and bright, and says, “Anything can happen. That’s the whole point.”

He’s not begging. There’s no desperation in his voice, none of his earlier anger coming through, his flair for the dramatic set aside for the moment. Roger is just sincere - sincere in his wish for John to stay and his understanding if he chooses not to, and sincere in his belief that Queen will succeed. Despite the odds, despite the setbacks, despite the stagnation of the last few months, Roger sincerely believes that they can make this work.

John still doesn’t know if he’s capable of that same level of optimism, but he does know Roger and he knows that he’s not a stupid man. And if Roger thinks that Queen is worth risking everything for… maybe that can count for something.

“Just the summer, then?” John asks, after thinking it over for a few moments.

Roger’s smile widens a little. “Just the summer,” he confirms. “Besides, you’ve sunk two years into this band already. What’s the harm in a few more months at this point?”

John had more or less just told Roger what the harm could be, but now for the first time in what feels like weeks he pushes those thoughts aside. He doesn’t need to consider those possibilities right now. He doesn’t have to consider anything right now if he doesn’t want to, and the relief he feels is almost dizzying in its intensity.

“Yeah, okay. You’ve got me for the summer,” John says, but the second half of his response is lost as Roger lets out a loud whoop of excitement and throws his arms around John, nearly barreling him over with the force of the hug.

“Oh thank fuck, I did not want to tell Freddie and Brian that we lost the best bassist in England today!” Roger says. He plants a messy kiss on John’s cheek and adds, “You won’t regret this Deacs, I promise!”

“I think I already do,” John jokes as he pushes Roger away, but he’s laughing brightly and smiling so wide that his face almost aches with it.

Roger just laughs and throws one arm back around John’s shoulder in a much more casual embrace, and John lets him leave it there without complaint. “Nah, you love me, I know you do. And - hey, since you skipped class and all, wanna go out for drinks? I’m supposed to be meeting Brian and Freddie down at the pub, you should join us.”

John considers it, just briefly, before shrugging and agreeing, “Yeah, alright. Why not?”

It’s the middle of the week and John should be in class, but right now this feels more important. Maybe Queen won’t go anywhere, and at the end of the summer John will finally say goodbye - but they’re here now, and maybe for tonight John can let that be enough.

  Eleven months later…

John keeps glancing out the window of the plane, though there’s little to see except the clouds around them, and the occasional glimpse of the ocean far below. This isn’t his first international flight, or even his first international flight with Queen, but he’s still filled with a wondrous sort of excitement because in just a few days they’re going to be playing in America.

John’s whole body is suddenly rocked as someone enthusiastically throws themselves into the too-small airplane seat next to him, and a moment later Roger is practically draped over John’s shoulder as he peers out the window as well. “Anything good out there?” he asks, his face so close to John’s that he can feel Roger’s breath hot against his cheek.

John pushes him away, and back into the other seat. “Brian won’t be pleased when he comes back from the toilet and has to fight you to get his seat back," he says instead of answering the question.

“Freddie’s already distracted Brian with some new song he’s working on and given my seat to him, so you’re stuck with me now,” Roger explains.

“Oh no, anything but that,” John says, dryly, just because he knows it’ll make Roger laugh.

It does, and Roger chuckles as he stretches out and settles down in his new seat. “You excited for the tour?”

“I am,” John says. “I’d ask if you were too, but I already know the answer." Roger hasn’t shut up about touring America ever since Mott the Hoople first extended the offer months ago.

“Can you blame me? It’s America! We’ve finally made it, John, this is it!”

“Yeah,” John says, quiet and thoughtful. “We have made it, haven’t we?”

Roger’s bright smile softens a bit and he rocks his shoulder gently into John’s. “Hey, I told you we would, didn’t I?”

“You did,” John agrees. “But still…”

Still, it hadn’t been easy. Despite initially promising Roger that he’d stick around for the summer John had still nearly walked away after his graduation in June - and then again in September, when they were still struggling to get any traction despite their first album finally getting released in July. He had taken a leap of faith and agreed to the UK tour and he’s glad he did because that’s when things started to pick up speed - slowly at first, and then so rapidly that it still makes John’s head spin to think about it.

They’ve toured the UK twice now. Performed in Australia. Recorded and released a second album. And now they’re going to America, with plans for a third album lined up for their return.

“I know,” Roger says, and he does because he was there. He was there for the shows that flopped, and the negative press reviews, and the long nights of driving with no sleep and little food, cramped quarters in an ancient van and motel rooms where they slept four to a bed because the couch was too small and they weren’t going to make anyone take the floor.

He was there, and so was Freddie, and so was Brian - somehow they’ve all come through the other side. Things aren’t perfect or even necessarily easy now, but John can finally look towards the future and see a bright light shining through.

“Thank you,” he says to Roger. “For not letting me walk away, I mean.” A year ago he couldn’t believe that his life would turn out like this and now he can’t even begin to imagine what his life would be like if he had left Queen. Maybe a bit more stable, with a bit more money, but certainly not richer. Not without the warmth of his friends and their music in his life.

But Roger just brushes aside his thanks as if it was nothing, when in John’s eyes it’s very nearly everything. “Like I said back then, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did leave.” And he grins at John and adds, “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah. So am I,” John says.

He glances out the window again, at the unchanging expanse of clouds and sky, and he’s so grateful to be here - in this band, on this plane, with Roger at his side and the whole world at their feet. He knows now that he belongs with Queen, and losing this, losing his friends, is an impossibility that he hopes he’ll never have to face again.

[nighttime-tea-party]

Can you tell us a little bit about what would've happened with lolita au Sebastian and Ciel if the Undertaker hadn't caught them? You said you think about it a lot.

Hooo boy yes, I do think about it a lot. So much so actually that I could write a whole sequel in an AU to this AU. The problem is, I feel like I would sabotage my own ending if I wrote a companion fanfic. People never really like sequels, do they? And I do think that the ending to Ciel is the Right ending.

That Being Said,

Here’s what I’d do with a sort-of sequel in an AU where Sebastian would get away with it, you’ve opened Pandora’s Box and there’s a whole lot of stuff coming out of it now. Read at own risk of having the Ciel ending ruined:

Undertaker still confronts Sebastian, they brawl and Ciel steps in with his deadly letter opener, however, when UT is writhing on the floor, holding on to the dear life that he’s bound to lose anyway, the film containing the incriminating photos slips out of his pocket and Ciel takes it, hopefully leaving no further evidence to prosecute Sebastian.

Sebastian doesn’t believe in his luck and turns himself in for the murder he claims he’s committed, then writes the confession the same way we know it. When Agni learns that it was actually Ciel who killed UT to save Sebastian from being killed, he isn’t as convinced that it’s better to keep the authorities from finding out that Ciel did it, as he is in my “canonverse”, and he helps the boy to get someone to listen to his turn of events, so he won’t be sentenced. Maybe that’s because Ciel’s enthusiasm to prove Sebastian’s innocence isn’t limited by the fear of exposing his sexual offences.

Nobody posing a threat to Sebastian will see the confession that’s just been finished by the time it’s clear that there’s a good chance both Sebastian and Ciel will be exempt from any punishment, and in the end, Sebastian comes home again, gives the whole piece of writing directly to Ciel instead because he still wants him to know everything, and Ciel, well… he gets to explain his feelings to living, breathing Sebastian after all.

They start a diary together where they document recent events: one of them keeps the book for a while and recapitulates recent events to the other, then hands it back for the other one to write in, so this would be the form this story would be written in (see, that’s how much I think about it, send help pls)

Ciel continues to go to school with Sieglinde, they’re good friends and rumour at school has it they’re secretly a couple, but she keeps trying to press it out of Ciel that he’s actually gay, which he’s not quite sure he is but of course he can’t tell her he’s not interested in any girls because he’s in an illegal relationship with his stepfather.

He does tell her that, though, when he’s graduated from high school and leaves for Europe with Sebastian and he knows she can’t do anything about it anymore. And it feels liberating to tell someone from this position of power.

Ciel gets accepted into Oxford, just like in the original fic, but this time, he actually plans to graduate. Sebastian gets a job there as a professor, perhaps by blackmailing one of the people in power, but they don’t live together and do their best not to let anyone realise they know each other, much less are in a homosexual relationship since it’s the 1950s and this time, their relationship has the potential to not only have Sebastian but also Ciel imprisoned (or suffer electro shock therapy instead)(that’s a topic I never addressed in the fanfic because it’s actually terrible what homosexuals had to endure back then and I did not want to compare it to the problematic nature of Sebastian’s and Ciel’s relationship). Ciel takes on the surname Phantomhive again, so nobody will get the idea that they’re related either. Of course, despite all of that, they still meet regularly off-campus, and Ciel will write a thesis under Sebastian’s guidance, so they can be seen on campus without raising any suspicions.

Sebastian still loves Ciel unconditionally, feels very secure in their relationship, and encourages him to get to know university student life with all its social aspects, which means he isn’t even really jealous when some guy’s gaydar points towards Ciel and Ciel makes a show of flirting back for Sebastian.

Ciel thinks a lot about what it means that he’s really not a child anymore but Sebastian still loves him and is obviously also still very sexually attracted to him, and speculates on whether he has “healed” Sebastian from his perversions, and what made him that way in the first place, but Sebastian very soberly insists that he’s not healed, he’s just completely occupied with being in love with and desiring Ciel despite him being an adult now. It’s a topic that never really lets go of Ciel and he’s secretly a little relieved that they have no children/minors in their little world anymore (an so is Sebastian).

After years of adventures and misadventures at uni, Ciel graduates in the late 1950s and the two leave the UK for good and move into Sebastian’s inherited flat, which they have to clean of years of cobweb and dust and they refurbish and refurnish their new old home. Since in France, homosexuality hasn’t been criminalised since the late 18th century, and they both have reached a point where they have hardly any fucks left to give about what people might think of them, they don’t hide their relationship anymore, and Sebastian gets in touch again with old literary acquaintances to introduce Ciel as his beautiful and gifted partner, and in this circle of people, nobody really takes offence at that, someone references French author Colette’s bisexuality (mostly because I’ve recently watched the film about her starring Keira Knightley, I will admit that).

Ciel and Sebastian are happy with their life in Paris, they somehow manage to live off their writing and occasional other jobs like guest lectures. The 50s end, it’s the 60s now… I haven’t really thought much beyond that but everything always turns out for the best and Sebastian lives long enough to keep Ciel company for a long time. In all these years, they never stop writing their shared diaries.

Wow, thanks for asking, it felt great to share this for once. Also makes me wanna write it all even more… but luckily, I’m well-occupied with #wanderlust and my other hobbies and obligations, so it’s not like I have time to do that anytime soon anyway. Also, now everyone already knows what happens anyway, so even less reason to write it.

[staytruetonorthch]

Perfect Ch. 1

A/N: I’m super anxious but here is my first official post. It’s just a single chapter around 4.5k. I plan on this being a pretty detailed, long-form story so if you like it, hang in there. I promise it’ll speed up once we get past exposition. I’m also highly aware of the switches from past/present tense, but I’m too tired to fix it and I’ve been so hesitant to post it’s either a now or never. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Football!Calum x Dancer!OC  

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"Don't make me come over there!" It may have looked like I was yelling into the racks of clothing and shoes in my closet, and to be honest, I might as well be. 

"You worry too much, Celley." I can hear the smile on my best friend, Brynn's face from my bed in the other room. 

"I do, but only because you don't give a fuck, B and I know those boys don't," I said, counting each person out on my fingers. "That's four people in, and not a single fuck is being given. Someone's got to, or nothing would get done." 

"You've got a point. The delivery was a little aggressive, but I'm moved nonetheless," Ash spoke up through Brynn's phone. 

"I'm cleaning as we speak, Cel. It's gonna be fine," Luke chimed in from the boys' side of the phone. 

"I can hear you lads playing FIFA," I said with an exasperated sigh.

We have a party planned at the boy's house tonight. A party I only had five hours to prepare, but that's the beauty of university, right? Spontaneity. All precautions to the wind. Everything that I never could be in high school and am still afraid to do today after a whole month of coursework. Don't ask me what I think might happen. Spontaneous combustion? Instantaneous death? A party that no one has fun at because I didn't have time to make an updated playlist or look up the actual rules for any drinking games? 

"Brynn, are you ready to go?" I ask, peeking my head out of my closet to look at her sprawled out across my bed. I can hardly see her underneath the excessive number of decorative pillows and thick white down cover.

"I just got so comfortable. I was actually contemplating taking a nap."

"Please," I plead, batting my lashes over large dewy eyes. It’s a trick I picked up after so many lyrical dances over the years. Direct eye contact with these watery eyes always left judges speechless.

"Ugh… fine, but I'm getting wasted tonight and sleeping in this wonderful bed. Have your asses in gear by the time we get there," she said, hanging up on the boys and throwing pillows haphazardly across the floor. I cringed at every one as it landed in the thick white carpet. I don't bother telling her that I hadn't expected the night to end any other way. I pull myself back into the closet, eyeing my options once more. I could either go with a red gingham top, or I could tie my white vogue tee shirt in the front for a more casual look. Both require a bra sadly.

"The red is trying too hard," Brynn said, leaning against the doorframe. "You can't pull out picnic bitch chic at a party."

"I guess you're right." I pull the tee over my head careful to avoid touching the thin white fabric to my made-up face. Once I had a knot secured at the base of my rib cage, I fluffed my hair as if it could get any bigger and smoothed out my denim skirt. "Shoe's and I'm good. What about you?" I said eyeing her in the reflection of my full-length mirror. She wore a white hoodie underneath black overalls and black high-top converse. Splitting her hair in half, she tied it up into multicolored space buns on top of her head. Brynn is the kind of girl who could put on mascara and chapstick five minutes before she left, and she’s effortlessly beautiful. Her freckles do most of the work across her nose and cheeks, making her insanely adorable.

"Done. Let's hit the road, Jack," she said, walking towards the door to my studio flat. I quickly replace the pillows back on the bed and turned off all the lights before joining her. She grabbed the keys to my Jeep, knowing I’m too preoccupied to drive us.

"Are we stopping at the store on the way or coming back out?"

"Stopping on the way. We just need paper towels, red cups, more ping pong balls because Mikey lost three of the last four, and snacks. I also found this recipe for a cool looking pink drink, but the boys are all stocked on beer."

"I almost hate the fact that I can't use my fake here. I spent good money and almost got arrested for something that's legal here." I smile, scrolling through my checklist one more time to make sure I didn't forget anything.

"Well that's your fault for not doing a simple google search before you came to uni in Aus."

"I'm just saying, in America, I would be a plug." She turned wide out into the street, speeding past every car. She has a bit of a lead foot.

"That one's lost on me, love." I try to keep up with her American slang, but I wasn't able to watch a lot of American shows or anything growing up, so I'm a little behind to put it gently.

She said she has a southern accent, but I can't tell any difference. Everything she says just sounds brutal to me. Shit slams, anything can pop off apparently, and a lot of good things burn. At least that's what I gather when she uses 'fire' and 'flames' as adjectives. 

I met Brynn at new student orientation. She seemed to be the only other one unamused by the school's welcoming parade meant to encourage school spirit, so as soon as our parents left, we left campus to explore the surrounding area locating the nearest shops and eating places. She was unlike any friend I had ever made swearing and speaking in riddles. I went to an all-girls catholic school filled to the brim with carbon copies of perfect people. We were second to none in both academics and clubs, which my parents loved, and Brynn was the absolute antithesis of that. She was a self- proclaimed 'thick' queen who was a pleasant deviance to the bird thin girls I was usually surrounded by. Her hair couldn't choose a color after multiple self- dye jobs. Even her mixed Mexican and Jamaican heritage were new to me. She said what she wanted and smiled wide at everything. I'm just happy she saw something in me to stick around even if it was the fact that I kidnapped her on the first day, keeping her from someone better.

I grab the frame of the car as she whips into the car park stopping short of a disgruntled gentleman in the crosswalk. She cursed loudly, causing my face to heat up. I contemplate jumping out of the car seeing as how the doors to the Jeep are safely kept in my garage. It’ll be a quick getaway, but I may need to make sure she makes it into a spot that isn't already occupied with this lovely gentlemen's car.

We soon found a spot and made quick work of the shopping, splitting the list I organized by section right down the middle. We’re back on the road in no time, heading closer to the edge of campus where the boys lived.

Ashton was actually the first person to befriend Brynn. They met at a summer fellowship program that put them in parts of Australia that don't have service for a hundred miles. They have that rugged woodsman thing in common. It kept them in touch through their final year in high school before she 'coincidentally' got accepted into the same university as him an entire ocean's length away. They were equally as smiley; she was just a little more… brash at times which is hard to believe. She didn't want to admit that she was nervous when he invited her to the house, he shared with two of his best mates, so I didn't mention anything when she asked me along. As the male version of Brynn, I immediately got on with Ashton. Mikey was chirpy and so sweet despite his punk persona. His other mate Luke was quiet only offering his very corny, yet intriguing commentary. He seems to be the closest thing I have to the friends I'm used to at home despite his lip ring. We formed a group of sorts meeting up in the library to study during the week and finding anything else but coursework to do on the weekends.

Our first kickback was just a barbeque featuring the five of us until Ash invited a few friends he made throughout the week with his open and boyish charm. Brynn had a few of her own, and Mikey wanted to join in on the fun, so he found a few friends to join. Luke and I were just fine meeting people as they were brought to us. Before we knew it, there was a group chat of about fifteen of us with more and more ideas of who to invite to the weekend shenanigans.

The boys had felt the pressure of expectation early this morning before Michael was a functioning human being. He shooed everyone off with a 'ya sure' before hanging up and going back to sleep. Brynn called me with our invite not only to attend the party but to host it at about 5:00 and of course, I freaked out. I plan everything, including some of the most successful events of my college career, if I do say so myself, so I took the praise for last week's party in stride. The difference is, I didn't spend my week planning out this event down to the second hand, so anything can happen. I wouldn't feel all the way like expelling my insides if it hadn't been confirmed that the first-year football players were going to be in attendance after today's match.

This confirmation came directly to Ash from another one of his mates from college, Calum Hood. Not only the best first year but the best player on the whole bloody team. He's also the hottest. The first time I saw him, he was leaving the classroom I was walking into. He opened the door just as I turned the handle, pushing me backward and almost to the floor.

"My fault, mate," he said distractedly, zipping his bag and flipping it over his shoulder. He was obviously sponsored by Nike dressed top to bottom in their slate grey gear, the school's emblem attached to every piece. The only thing I could tell wasn't sponsored was the gray beanie he had pulled down over his ears covering his hair. When he finally looked up a smirk graced his pink lips.

"You alright, doll?"

I couldn't tell if my reaction showed on my face because I didn't expect him to be so adorable with the brute force, he opened the door with. I just nodded my head taking deep breaths, trying to keep my face still. His tan skin was smooth and warm, complimenting the heat in his eyes that was slowly melting my resolve.

"Right. Well you're late, so you might want to…" he trailed off, nodding over his shoulder into the classroom.

"Right," I replied, hoping my hair was doing that cool thing it does when the wind pushes it back. It's either doing that, or the curls are fighting themselves on top of my head. It's so thick I can never really tell without a mirror, but let's be honest. My hair tells me what it wants to do, I rarely have any say in the matter. Instead of walking out of the door, he extended his arm, acting as a human door frame for me to walk under. When I turned my head to look again, he was gone.

I showed up a little earlier to class the next day to see if I could catch him again. Then I was late again and right on time before I decided to be outside the room before his class even ended. He was still nowhere to be found. I had practiced redeeming myself with a smile or maybe even words. Anything but how cringe-worthy I had been the first time, but to no avail. I didn't see him again until the boys dragged us to the first football game.

I don't mind sports at all. I grew up going to my older brother's rugby matches, so I'm not entirely clueless. Brynn, on the other hand, sat unmoving and quiet for the first time in our friendship. I think she concerned Ashton the most, as he asked her if she was ok every time the ball stopped moving.

"Someone tell me why I chose the guitar over football again," Luke said, pulling his hands down his face. "I was just as good as him, but now he's got fans and his face on posters."

"If that was true, I'm sure you'd be out there, dude," Mikey said, patting his shoulder. Michael wasn't interested in playing sports unless it was FIFA on the Xbox, but he was supportive nonetheless. Luke wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer, so he could point out the center forward dribbling through two defenders.

"That's my best mate, or at least he was before he got club offers," he said, taking a swig of his beer.

"I'm surprised he even came to university. He could've just gone pro," Ash said before he cursed the refs loudly. The boy Luke had been pointing out was quick with powerful legs and defined arms. His jaw was clenched, making it sharp enough to cut through glass. Thick curly hair was pushed out of his face with a thin gauzy headband, a gold streak shone prominently in the surrounding darkness of his curls. As he made quick work of the remaining defender, there was only himself and the goalkeeper who looked menacing. Making a sharp left jab, he caused the goalie's weight to shift, giving him the perfect opportunity to use his nondominant foot for a goal.

I jumped out of the way as the boys leaped up, hugging each other, and spilling beer. The entire crowd erupted in shouts, holding on to one another as if the world depended on it.

"CALUM! CALUM! CALUM!" the entire stadium roared. He smirked up at the crowd with a small wave. I gasped, grabbing onto Brynn's arm in surprise.

"Calum?" I asked incredulously. Oh boy what did I miss out on being dumbstruck? Not only is he incredibly attractive, but he's a football king? My parents would love him, I would literally win my family if I could've snagged him, but I'm stupid. So incredibly stupid.

This is why tonight is so stressful and important. If I can not only get a football player, but the best football player here and he looks that good, I can get my parents off my back. My mum went to university solely to get a husband, which she found in my dad. She worked as a primary school teacher until he could support them at his father's law firm, and before you know it, he was running the place. They pop out a few kids, dad runs for Parliament, and the rest is unfortunately history. Mum loved teaching, but she loved being a mum more. She just raised the 'perfect children' she liked to say to anyone who would listen. My too perfect to be true brother Cleo and her wannabe prima ballerina Celeste, me. So tonight, I have to look perfect, and everything has to be perfect, but I don't have time to bustle around and host. This party has to go on autopilot, so I can set my focus on Calum.

"It could be worse, Celley," Brynn shrugged as she set the grocery bags down on the counter of the boys' home. She's right, it could be. I didn't expect it to be this clean actually, but there were no discarded clothes in sight, no pizza boxes on the counters, and no beer cans all over the place. At first glance the place looks fine, I just have to get the dishes out of the sink and out of sight, so they're not broken. A quick vacuum run and the place would work out just fine. I relaxed a little letting my shoulders pull forward.

"Thank you, Lukey," I said, starting the water in the sink. I knew he was the only person who really did any cleaning around here. As much as they were all messy, he couldn't live in filth for too long.

"No problem," he replied sitting on the island watching me work.

"Hey, I picked up my own stuff," Michael complained looking through the bags we brought in pulling out various things.

"You picked up the underwear that your mum wrote your name in and sat back down." Ash always laughs when he chastises, never letting you know if he’s serious or not.

"Exactly. I picked up MY stuff. You guys never listen to me." He shook his head, disapprovingly.

"Thank you too, Mikey, but start throwing those balls around this kitchen, and I will cut yours off as a replacement," I said sweetly. His eyes went wide as he set the ping pong balls back in the bag he got them out of.

"So, what's the vibe going to be tonight?" Brynn asked, putting chips in bowls and swatting the boys’ hands away.

"Well I accidentally invited like twenty people this morning."

"And those people invited people," Ash added.

"And word got around so looks like we've got ourselves a rager," Luke said, rubbing his hands together with a devilish grin. "You've got to admit, we're becoming the best party house for first years."

"Calm down. We're just the only first-years who don't live in dorms where you can't party," Ashton said, punching Luke in the arm. Not many groups of friends stay together long enough or get into the same university for their parents to go in thirds on the house. It worked out to be less expensive than staying in dorms.

"We've got the fucking football team coming, Ash, I think we're doing pretty well." I listened to their banter silently as I cleaned and set things exactly where I had imagined them. The first guest started to arrive a few hours later after I had time to add a few extra touches and have my first glass of the wine Brynn and I had hidden in the fridge. Neither of us is too keen on liquor or beer.

Boys are scattered around the living room, passing around joints and playing FIFA. Girls talk around them, mingling on the patio. There’s a very competitive game of beer pong going on in the dining room that somehow consists of all four corners of the table instead of teams on halves. I was content for the first few hours refilling bowls and dancing with friends I had made at past parties. I even had time to play wingman for Michael and a blue-haired girl in the corner, but soon I got anxious. It was reaching the first hour of the new day. I found myself sitting on the floor between Luke's long legs watching him play Super Smash and stealing hits of the joint he had held between his fingers. I gave up on being cute at about two, smoking enough for my eyes to be as red as Luke's, and my shoes had long been discarded in one of the boy's rooms. I didn't know, nor did I care who's it was.

There were just about the maximum amount of people possible crammed into this small house, and I didn't bother saying excuse me as I got up to make my way to the bathroom. At one point there were so many people taller than me I felt I was walking through a forest. I tried slipping past one particularly muscular redhead boy caging a giggling blonde against the wall. I did my best to slip behind him, but he decided it was the perfect time to do the douche stretch and flex hitting me with the red cup in his hand. The pink sticky drink that was delicious if I do say so myself covered me from neck to foot. My skin went hot, and I'm pretty sure the blonde's giggles were going to cause me to evaporate the liquid from my skin with embarrassment alone. Where was my snarky American friend when I needed her to tongue-lash someone?

"I'm sorry, love," the boy said, failing to conceal his laughter. I tried to avoid his face at all costs burning a hole through his chest with my eyes. The school's emblem was stitched into his slate grey shirt, but I couldn't quite remember where I had seen this exact shirt before. I didn't have time to worry about it with my shirt becoming more see-through by the second and my head spinning in circles.

"Just let me by please," I said. Redhead stepped closer to the girl who was giving me a snarky look over his shoulder. "Stay in your lane, honey," I said, trying out one of Brynn's colloquialisms on my own tongue. My glare was enough to split the crowd like the red sea as I stormed past. Just as I reached the bathroom and twisted the handle, it swung open forcefully, revealing a disheveled brunette with smeared makeup and haunting blue eyes.

"What the fuck happened to you?" she said with an amused smile playing at the corner of her lips. 

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, pushing my hair out of my face. "Are you finished in there, so I can get cleaned up or?" She just smirked sauntering out with a wink. I shook my head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. I looked in the mirror at my hair that was slowly but surely frizzing out, and my shirt may as well have been a window into my soul for how see-through it was. My mascara was smudged in the corners of my eyes and my lips had lost their shine ages ago.

"Are you alright?" I was startled by a voice coming from the toilet.

"Oh my goodness, I didn't know anyone was in here," I said, covering my eyes. "I thought that girl was the only one and she left and--"

"It's fine. I'm not doing anything but looking at my phone." I peeked through the cracks of my fingers to see a boy was sat on the toilet cover searching diligently through his phone. I scanned him from head to toe. Black Vans, faded black skinny jeans, a cut-up muscle shirt that was barely attached at his hips, exposing his defined torso and arms. His warm skin, his dark hair with a single gold streak running up the front. I gulped, hoping I would take my own advice and just spontaneously combust.

"I'm gonna just go," I said quietly, reaching for the door behind me. I had forgotten how quick he was on the field because he scared me shitless when his hand captured my shoulder stopping me from leaving.

"No, I'll go," he said quickly. "I don't think I'm going to find what I'm looking for anyways. Unless… do you happen to know whose party this is?"

"It's my mate's house actually," I said, quirking an eyebrow in confusion. He should know. He invited himself and the whole team this morning.

"So you know all the lads? Michael, Ashton…"

"And Luke," I finished for him.

"I've been trying to reach Ashton and I just barely caught Mikey before he went down to the beach with some girl. He let me in, but there's so much going on I never made it past the kitchen. Do you know where Luke is?"

"Uh… couch." I pushed my hair out of my face taking a deep breath. I may as well just give up at this point. I'm in no position to charm anyone, and I can see the remnants of that girl's lip gloss on his lips. It was kind of cute on his pink pout, but I shook my head to clear the thought. He's not looking at me like that, and he probably never will.

I turned the faucet on testing the temp before grabbing a washcloth from the cupboard and washing the stickiness from my neck and exposed stomach. I expected him to leave, but he just sat back on the toilet cover, fiddling with his thumbs. He looked forlorn, his eyes longing.

"You ok?" I asked undoing the tie at the front of my shirt and attempting to wring it out to no avail. I glanced at the sad boy in the mirror and shrugged before pulling the wet material over my head and rinsing it out underneath the water. It's not like anything was left to the imagination with it on.

"Have you ever heard Luke say anything about me?" he asked quietly.

"Kinda," I tilted my head slightly as if it would help me think harder. "He did say you used to be his best mate when we went to one of your matches."

"He did?" he asked, perking up like a puppy.

"Yeah, watches every match. About loses his mind with pride every time you score, which you do quite often, good on you," I said, fixated with the faint pink water swirling around the drain. Maybe it wouldn't be a lost cause to put this in the wash. I'm so high and sleepy it probably won't make it tonight. "Well, I'm gonna go. If you work it up in you to go see Lu, tell him I've gone back to my flat. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to see you."

"I'll do that," he said, standing up assuredly. "I'm Calum, by the way."

"I gathered that," I said with a small grin. "I'm Celeste." When I opened the door, I didn't imagine how bad it might look with me leaving sans shirt, with the school's football star following close behind me. I decided to start caring in the morning when I had Brynn to complain to. I'm a person who knows how to quit while they're ahead. My perfect night shouldn't be able to get any worse, and I'm not going to give the universe the time to try. 

[winterisakiller]

Get Better - Chapter Five

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 5/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do. This story will update on Thursdays.

Tag list: @tinchentitri @theheartofpenelope @noplacelikehome77 @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @nonsensicalobsessions @blacksuitofdoom @just-the-hiddles @theoneanna @wolfsmom1

Previous Chapter

CHAPTER FIVE

 There was something about the start of full dress rehearsals Cath had always found fascinating. It was the chaos which ensued, keeping everyone on their toes and running like mad, that she found enjoyed like nothing else. She’d arrived at the theater early, as had become her habit, to get her station to rights. And, honestly, to clear her head for the task at hand. This wasn’t her first production by any stretch but it was her first as lead make-up artist and the thought both pleased and terrified her. It wasn’t a huge production a la Wicked or any other number of large scale musical productions she’d done grunt work on, but it was still a major step forward career-wise. The butterfly-like nerves in her stomach fluttered uneasily at the thought.

 Cath had been working exclusively in theatre, with the occasional dabble in television production (hey the money was decent and a steady gig was something she certainly wouldn’t turn her nose up at), for the last five years. When she’d told her mother she’d wanted to pursue an actual career in theatrical make-up and design rather than just mess around with it in her spare time (as she’d done throughout secondary school and her first year of uni), Cath wasn’t terribly shocked by her lack of enthusiasm. Her mother was a practical woman, having raised three children mostly on her own after her divorce, and while she supported and encouraged her children, she had always instilled in them the need to make sound and responsible choices. And true to form, she had made her concerns quite clear.

 “Darling, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you are talented. I’ve seen the work you’ve put in for school productions and the local theatre…But how steady will the work actually be? I just want to make sure you’ve honestly thought this through and can make it work.”

 Her concerns were valid and in those first few years Cath struggled to make ends meet. She’d taken any job she could find, often working hellishly long hours for frustratingly little pay. But slowly things started to take off. She’d landed a steady gig at one of the smaller theatres in the West End and had worked herself as hard as she could; learning not only to improve her craft but dabbling in costuming and whatever else she could get her hands on. That job had led to another and another until she found herself booked for most of the year. Television gigs paid well and she enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the sets but theatre had always held her heart. Probably always would.

 She took a long, slow sip of her coffee, enjoying the smooth warmth as it slid down her throat. It was one of her guilty pleasures….Well, maybe not guilty but certainly a pleasure. Take away coffee…Lattes in particular where something she tried very hard to not indulge in; save for when she was starting a new show. During that time the coffee shop around the corner from her flat frankly saw more of her paycheck than she did. It was just simply easier to let someone else make her the caffeine she desperately needed. She let out a soft sigh and tried hard not to feel too guilty about the coffee press sitting unused on her counter.  

 The sound of the door opening pulled Cath back to herself. She turned to find Maggie and Lorna making their way into the small workspace draped with bags and take away coffees which they quickly divested themselves of on the table by the door. Cath had worked with both women on previous projects and had been thrilled when their names appeared on her work log. Both were exceptionally talented and made the often hectic hours much more bearable.

 “Cath!” Lorna cried, launching herself at the shorter woman and wrapping her in tight embrace. Cath stumbled backwards and nearly fell into one of the lighted workstations. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

 Laughter tumbled from her throat as Cath returned the embrace. “I’m glad to be here. Let’s try to keep it that way, eh?”

 Maggie snorted a laugh. “Yeah, let’s not kill our boss on the first day. Wouldn’t send the best message to the production team, now would it?”

 Lorna shrugged, “Fair enough.”

 The rest of the morning passed with little fanfare. Bags were piled in the corner near the curtained dressing areas, one for each actor, filled with costume pieces and various accessories waiting final approval from the production team. As workstations were slowly set to rights and their coffees consumed, the three women bustled around the small room waiting for the rest of the production team to arrive; the actors weren’t due in until closer to eleven.  A quick glance at the wall clock told Cath it was rapidly approaching nine.

 Lorna puttered around the various bags and pulled the pieces of clothing from them one at a time, hanging them up along the back wall. Simple pieces that fit with the ideas that Jaime had thrown around during pre-production; jeans and blouses for Emma and various jeans, suits, shirts, and blazers for Robert and Jerry. Cath and Lorna worked together ironing and steaming the pieces so they wrinkle free and ready to grab and go once the actors arrived.

 Maggie flitted around the room, getting the remaining loose ends settled; extra kits and pieces of clothing that would be used if alterations were needed. Humming to herself, Maggie moved around the small room. Humming turned to singing and soon Cath and Lorna joined in, belting out the words to ridiculous late 90’s/early 2000’s pop songs. Laughing, Cath wandered to her own bag, pulling out her mobile to provide actually music for their impromptu karaoke session. The three women danced around the room, laughing, dancing, and singing at the top of their lungs.

 Applause from the doorway was the first clue that the three of them were no longer alone. Cath squeaked in alarm as she spun around, finding the play’s director, Jaime, laughing hysterically at the door, Zawe standing beside him doubled over in laughter as well. She quickly grabbed her mobile from the table and paused the music. “So um…Welcome!” Cath started, laughing as well, “We’re here all week.”  

 Zawe clapped and darted forward to pull Cath into a tight hug. “I’m so thrilled you’re here!”

 Cath laughed and returned the embrace, “Me too! So come on in, let me introduce you to my team.” She beamed at the fact that she had a team; that would certainly take some getting used to. Cath made quick introductions and the four women fell quickly into conversation regarding theatre in general.

 There was another knock on the doorframe and looking up, Cath found a moderately tall, bearded brunette man standing in the doorway, whom she recognized as Charlie Cox, smiling warmly. He was quickly ushered over and introductions were made once more. Jaime joined the fray and he and Charlie were quickly pulled into conversation with Lorna regarding costumes and character ideas.

 Seeing everyone sufficiently occupied, Zawe had taken Cath by the hand and led her to one of the opened stations. The two women quickly fell into conversation, joking and catching up on what had been happening in each other’s lives. Cath hadn’t had the chance to speak with Zawe since the gala a few months back and was thrilled to hear that the book she’d been working on was finally preparing for release. Cath had worked with Zawe on a handful of projects over the past several years and they’d hit it off almost immediately. They were close in age, had similar tastes in books and movies, and shared a similar sense of humor. They’d passed many an early morning shoot laughing themselves silly.

 “…So there I was standing there with the back of my dress wide open, trying to grab at the bleeding zipper when Darren, our director, walks in with some poor bloke from the local paper.” Cath threw back her head, laughing at the image Zawe had painted. “Needless to say that was certainly one interview I’ll never forget.”

 “God, Zawe, I can only imagine. At least you were mostly dressed. And it certainly gave the show write up a bit of color.” Cath joked, dodging the playful swat Zawe threw her way. “Besides, you remember that morning in Devon? When I got locked out of my hotel room and had to go on set in my dress from the night before…The very one that had gotten soaked in wine when that man lost his balance and fell into our table?” She waved her hands wildly, mimicking her panicked reaction to the flying wine. “I still don’t know how I didn’t get crucified for that. You remember how bloody strict Jaz was.”

 Zawe laughed and nodded. “Yes! Oh that was quite the talk of the set.” Her attention waivered at something over Cath’s shoulder, face breaking into a smile as she waved at the doorway behind them.

 Cath turned, finding herself standing face to chest with a tall, auburn haired man. His blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of black square framed glasses, but they were no less arresting for it. There was something about the way in which they took her in, the colors swirling between blue and green, which fascinated her. A scruffy beard covered his cheeks and chin, recently trimmed she noted given its length. His hair was just a touch too long, curly and just this side of disarray. He looked completely different from the clean faced, strong jawed man she’d seen on film posters but she’d recognized him all the same. The show’s second leading man, Tom Hiddleston.

                                                            —

 The door closed behind him with a bang, causing Tom to wince as he glanced back to make sure he’d not caused any permanent damage to either door or frame. All looked well enough and that would have to do. He glanced once more at his watch, cursing out loud as he took in the time. Fucking hell, he was late. But if...Just maybe if he could make it to the underground station and catch the next arriving train, he would make it to the theatre close enough to call time.

 He hadn’t meant to be late; he’d had every intention of making it out of the house and to the theatre on time. That obviously wasn’t going to happen now. He let out an exasperated sigh. Possibly going out the night before had been a mistake. But it had been Daniel’s birthday and he hadn’t seen him in ages. They’d been friends since RADA and did their best to keep in touch over the years; which had been difficult considering their hectic schedules and life in general. When Daniel called the night before and asked if Tom could swing by the pub for a few drinks in honor of his birthday, he had eagerly agreed; looking forward to spending a few hours with old friends. But as these things tended to go, a few drinks turned into talking and suddenly it was nearing midnight and last call.

 Tom had made it home and to bed slightly after one and woke at nearly ten to discover that the alarm he’d sworn he’d set either hadn’t been set or hadn’t gone off. He cursed profusely, earning him a confused look from Bobby. He’d thrown on the first clean pair of jeans and jumper he found (the perks of minimalizing his wardrobe) and shoved his feet hastily into his boots before charging down the stairs, Bobby following quickly at his heels. Rounding the corner, he skidded into the kitchen and then through to the back room. He pushed open the back garden door, Bobby barked once and trotted out to do his business. Once Bobby was fed and shut in his kennel, Tom had grabbed his keys and wallet from the side table by the front door and sprinted out of it, the door slamming behind him.

 His jog to the underground station was thankfully uneventful and he’d managed to catch the next arriving train, though it was a very near thing. The crowd in Leister Square was easy enough to navigate and he’d only bumped into one or two people in his flight, apologizing as he jogged through the square and onto a side street. Tom felt himself fill with relief as the Harold Pinter theatre came into view. He made his way across the street and up into the stage door entrance, greeting the staff mulling around it warmly. He raced up the stairs as quickly as his feet could carry him, hoping he wasn’t as late as he feared.

 Tom could hear laughter echoing from the opened dressing room door as he climbed the last few steps and onto the landing. He was mostly on time, the quick glance at his watch showed it was only a few minutes past eleven. Not the best impression he’d ever made, but certainly not the worst and there was nothing he could do about it presently. With a smile, he made his way through the doorway and into the brightly lit dressing room.

 His attention fell first on Zawe, perched on a stool and chatting animatedly with a short woman in dark jeans and an oversized light green jumper. There was something familiar about her, even with her back was turned to him, but he couldn’t quite seem to put a finger on why. It wasn’t until she’d thrown her head back and laughed, a bright and rich sound, when realization struck him. The woman from the Pinter Gala in October. Cath. He laughed despite himself. What were the odds?

 She looked absolutely lovely; laughing warmly at whatever she and Zawe had been discussing. Her voice animated and full of warmth as she waved her hands around to emphasize the point she was making. Her long, dark hair was pulled back and piled in a lop-sided bun, though a few stray strands had fallen out of their bindings and had been pushed behind her ear. Zawe smiled at him when she’d turned her head and found him standing by the door and quickly waved him over.

 His breath caught in his throat as she turned around, confusion painted across her face. Her dark blue eyes flashing first in surprise then in recognition. Her face broke into a warm and welcoming smile. God, she is stunning.

 “Cath this is Tom, my long suffering cuckold of a husband….For the next few months at least.” Zawe gestured at Tom, a playful and warm smile spreading across her face. “Tom, this is Cath. She’s going to be responsible for making us look pretty. Though for you, I suspect she has her work cut out for her.” There was a brief pause before all three burst into laughter.

 God, the thought stole across Tom’s mind, she has a wonderful laugh. He quickly shook the thought away, extending his hand to hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 “Likewise.” Cath took his hand, smiling, and shook it firmly. Her hand was small, dwarfed in his own, smooth and warm. He had no desire to let her or it go.

 “Alright,” Jaime yelled, standing up and clapping his hands. The three of them turned to face the director. “Since we’re all here, let’s get started.”

                                                        —

 Tom poured himself into the make-up chair, quite ready to be done for the day. He’d forgotten how draining theatre could be, no matter how much he enjoyed it. Their first official rehearsal had gone well; they’d ran through the play twice, stopping occasionally to work on blocking or change a delivery of a line. It was comforting, being in costume (even if the costume was close enough to what he’d wear outside of the theatre) and full make-up (God, though it made face itch something fierce), it made things feel more…real. But blast it all, he was tired.

 Cath smiled at him, make-up remover in hand. “Long day?” she joked, handing him the soaked wash cloth. Tom smiled and took it gratefully, wiping his face with a sigh.

 “I’d forgotten how much this stuff itches.”

 “But it makes you look oh so pretty,” Cath teased, taking the wash cloth back and getting the bits he’d missed the first time around. “You guys are quite good,” she murmured, placing the cloth into the dirty linen bin by her feet and pulling out a bottle of light moisturizer. She pumped a small amount onto her hands, rubbing it between them before reaching and applying it to his slightly reddened face.

 “Thank you,” he answered, trying not to think about how nice her touch felt on his skin.

 They’d chatted quite a bit in the run up to actually getting himself, Charlie, and Zawe on the stage; and he’d found he very much enjoyed her company. She made him laugh with an ease that he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was warm and genuine; what you saw was you got. They’d talked briefly about his work; she’d seen him in Coriolanus, a friend of a friend had gotten tickets and invited her along, and she’d confessed to being quite impressed with his work in it, even if he was a fair bit shouty at times. She’d seen one or two of the Marvel films and had a fair grasp on his role in them, but they hadn’t really been her cup of tea.

 He’d been almost grateful for her lack of response to his fame, or infamy depending on how you looked at it. It was a wonderful change of pace. She asked him questions about his experiences on set and what had lead him to acting in the first place. He, in turn, asked her about the work she’d done, in theatre and in television, he’d been pleased to find out, and they’d shared stories about long days on set or backstage antics they’d encountered.

 “Alright,” she declared, leaning back with a soft smile. “All done. You, good sir, are free to go.”

 The loss of her warmth against him was disheartening in a way he did not wish to explore anytime soon.

 He returned her smile. “Thank you, my lady. I look forward to working with you in future.” Tom stood and headed back to the screened area in the far corner of the room to change back into his street clothes. Had he turned back, he would have caught the faint blush that spread across Cath’s face at his words.

                                                             —

 Tom cursed as he caught sight of the time. He was late. Of fucking course he was late. God, what a mess. His hair was plastered to his head and he hadn’t had time to do anything save brush it from his face as he ran from the house and down the street towards the Underground station.

 Bobby, the little shit, had been an unholy terror. He’d rushed out the garden door that morning, with complete disregard for the sheets of rain that were belting down (at the rate it was falling, Tom was thrilled to death it wasn’t snow), and dived head first into the muddy flower beds instead of calmly doing his business and rushing back inside for breakfast. Tom, knowing the horror it was to wash the foul beast, charged after him, winding up soaked in the process. Both muddy and thoroughly pissed at each other, man and beast made their way inside the house. Bathing Bobby had been an exercise in mutual frustration. The spaniel whined and growled through the whole process, swiping paws at his master in a fruitless attempt at escape. The bathroom was a disaster, water and mud splashed over the floors and walls and Tom groaned, knowing what a nightmare it would be to clean. Toweled dry and still growling intermittently, Bobby was unceremoniously shut in his kennel and his food bowl shoved in after.

 Grumbling, Tom took the stairs two at a time and made as quick a work of cleaning the guest bath as he could. He’d just loaded the remaining towels into the washer when he caught sight of the time off the clock in his kitchen. His eyes bugged, how had it gotten so late?

 Another string of curses followed Tom up the stairs once again as he dashed into his bedroom and grabbed clean clothing from the wardrobe (his usual dark jeans and a jumper). He ran into the bathroom, cursing the fact that he didn’t have time for a proper shower. And certainly no thanks to the beast in his backroom.

 He grabbed a wash cloth and wiped the mud and dirt from his face and arms as best he could before pulling his jeans and jumper on. He sat on his bed to get himself settled in his socks and boots, knowing that with his luck, if he tried to do this while standing he’d fall and break his neck. That would be the icing on the cake of this foul day.

 Dressed and still rather cross, Tom grabbed his keys and wallet from the side table and then his umbrella from the hall tree, quickly shrugging into his wool coat, before dashing out the door. The rain was still coming down in unrelenting sheets and the jog from his front door to the station had his boots and the cuffs of his jeans soaked through. He grimaced but knew there was little he could do for it now. At the ticket gate he paused and pulled his mobile from his pocket, quickly dialing the theatre, hoping to catch someone and inform them of his tardiness.

 The phone rang once. Then twice before the line clicked and a warm female voice answered. “Hello?”

 He recognized Cath’s voice immediately and made a determined effort to keep his frustration in check. Absolutely none of this was her fault. He took a deep breath and explained as quickly as he could. “It’s Tom, I’m running late. It’s been…A fair bit hectic this morning. But I am on my way.”

 “Alright, Tom.” There was a clear hint of laughter in her voice, but she held it back remarkably well. “Take care. See you when you get here.”

 Tom echoed her statement and ended the call, shoving his mobile back into his pocket. He made his way hastily through the barrier and down the escalator towards the filling platform. He brushed his wet hair from his face as he waited for the next train. He mentally cursed his lack of coffee but there hadn’t been any time and hoped against hope that there would be some at the theatre. Or that he could possibly duck out at some point and hit the Costa a few streets down. As long as he got caffeine somewhere (and in the relatively near future) he didn’t care.

 By the time the train had pulled into the station and Tom had made his way from the platform and onto the street, the rain had died to a slow drizzle. He rushed from the station towards the theatre passing the aforementioned Costa with a longing look; he was far too late to risk stopping now, no matter how badly he wanted to. He nodded at John, one of the security at the stage door, and climbed the stairs two at a time. His watch had him at twenty minutes late and he cringed. He’d been doing so well with his time management in the last few weeks and this blip stung.

 He burst through the dressing room door, pulling off his coat, hanging it up, and dropping the umbrella by the door. “So sorry,” he called. Charlie and Zawe were dressed and sitting at their respective stations, chatting with each other and with Lorna and Maggie. They looked up at his entrance and called greetings out.

 Cath emerged from the back, smiling. “You made it!”

 She quickly ushered him over towards his station. His eyes widened as he took in the waiting take away cup of coffee and brownie awaiting him. Gods, he could have kissed her for her thoughtfulness. He blinked the thought away and settled quickly into his chair before turning back to her. “You are a lifesaver. Honestly, thank you.”

 “Can’t have you falling off stage because you’ve not had the requisite amount of caffeine in your system, now can we?” They both laughed and Tom reached gratefully for the gently steaming coffee, taking a tentative sip. It burned, but in the best way and he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth and the smooth bitterness. “Would you two like a moment alone?”

 Cath’s teasing words snapped Tom back to himself and he blushed, quickly putting the cup back onto the counter. “Nah,” he quipped, once he’d recovered himself. “I trust your discretion.”

 “Well that certainly explains a lot, Hiddleston,” she teased, not bothering to hide her laughter. “Who would have thought you were into exhibition?”

 Tom shrugged, enjoying the playful if not slightly evocative teasing. “Why do you think I got into acting?”

 Cath only laughed harder, shaking her head as she turned to grab a towel. “What happened to you, Tom? Your hair’s a mess.”

 “It’s a long story,” he grumbled, grabbing the coffee once more and taking another long sip. “Involving a stubborn dog and far too much rain.”

 “Yikes.” She rubbed the towel over his head, drying his hair as best she could. A smirk spread across her face as she spotted a muddy paw print on the side of his neck. “Looks like the dog won, though.” She pointed at the spot and Tom let out a groan. “He marked you.”

 “Stupid bloody dog.”

 Cath chuckled to herself, wiping the mark from his neck and dropping the towel into the dirty linen bin. She reached down and grabbed the hairdryer, making sure it was plugged in before running it over Tom’s unruly hair, making sure it was well and truly dry. “Alright,” she announced, shutting off the hairdryer and placing it back in its holster. “That’s about as good as we can get. Now scoot.”

 Tom laughed, thanking her again for the coffee and for fixing the mess his morning had made of his hair. “You really are a lifesaver, Cath.”

 “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I haven’t heard that one before. Now off with you, before we both get yelled at for your tardiness.”

 With a smile and a wave, Tom made his way from the dressing room towards the stairs leading to the stage. Cath watched as he went, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of an errant curl sticking up at the back of his head. Silly man, she thought to herself. You are going to be a world of trouble, aren’t you?

Next Chapter

[winterisakillerwrites]

Get Better - Chapter Five

Title: Get Better

Chapter: 5/18

Character: Tom Hiddleston/Cath Richardson (OFC)

Genre: Romance

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Love. Companionship. Family. These are all of the things Tom Hiddleston desperately wanted. But his life and his choices left that a distant and unlikely prospect. So he did his best to move on and live his life as is. When an opportunity to return to the theater arises, he jumps at the chance and along the way finds that maybe, just maybe, those distant and unlikely prospects are closer than he could have imagined. Sequel to Brave Face.

Authors Notes/Warnings: So as I was writing Brave Face I knew that Tom’s story wasn’t over, even if that particular part of it was. And while I knew, more or less, what the overall ending to the story would be, its taken me a while to figure out the time in between. Thanks to @redfoxwritesstuff for letting me continually throw ideas off and at you. I still can’t fathom why you put up with it, but I am eternally grateful you do.

Previous

CHAPTER FIVE

There was something about the start of full dress rehearsals Cath had always found fascinating. It was the chaos which ensued, keeping everyone on their toes and running like mad, that she found enjoyed like nothing else. She’d arrived at the theater early, as had become her habit, to get her station to rights. And, honestly, to clear her head for the task at hand. This wasn’t her first production by any stretch but it was her first as lead make-up artist and the thought both pleased and terrified her. It wasn’t a huge production a la Wicked or any other number of large scale musical productions she’d done grunt work on, but it was still a major step forward career-wise. The butterfly-like nerves in her stomach fluttered uneasily at the thought.

Cath had been working exclusively in theatre, with the occasional dabble in television production (hey the money was decent and a steady gig was something she certainly wouldn’t turn her nose up at), for the last five years. When she’d told her mother she’d wanted to pursue an actual career in theatrical make-up and design rather than just mess around with it in her spare time (as she’d done throughout secondary school and her first year of uni), Cath wasn’t terribly shocked by her lack of enthusiasm. Her mother was a practical woman, having raised three children mostly on her own after her divorce, and while she supported and encouraged her children, she had always instilled in them the need to make sound and responsible choices. And true to form, she had made her concerns quite clear.

“Darling, there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that you are talented. I’ve seen the work you’ve put in for school productions and the local theatre…But how steady will the work actually be? I just want to make sure you’ve honestly thought this through and can make it work.”

Her concerns were valid and in those first few years Cath struggled to make ends meet. She’d taken any job she could find, often working hellishly long hours for frustratingly little pay. But slowly things started to take off. She’d landed a steady gig at one of the smaller theatres in the West End and had worked herself as hard as she could; learning not only to improve her craft but dabbling in costuming and whatever else she could get her hands on. That job had led to another and another until she found herself booked for most of the year. Television gigs paid well and she enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the sets but theatre had always held her heart. Probably always would.

She took a long, slow sip of her coffee, enjoying the smooth warmth as it slid down her throat. It was one of her guilty pleasures….Well, maybe not guilty but certainly a pleasure. Take away coffee…Lattes in particular where something she tried very hard to not indulge in; save for when she was starting a new show. During that time the coffee shop around the corner from her flat frankly saw more of her paycheck than she did. It was just simply easier to let someone else make her the caffeine she desperately needed. She let out a soft sigh and tried hard not to feel too guilty about the coffee press sitting unused on her counter.  

The sound of the door opening pulled Cath back to herself. She turned to find Maggie and Lorna making their way into the small workspace draped with bags and take away coffees which they quickly divested themselves of on the table by the door. Cath had worked with both women on previous projects and had been thrilled when their names appeared on her work log. Both were exceptionally talented and made the often hectic hours much more bearable.

“Cath!” Lorna cried, launching herself at the shorter woman and wrapping her in tight embrace. Cath stumbled backwards and nearly fell into one of the lighted workstations. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Laughter tumbled from her throat as Cath returned the embrace. “I’m glad to be here. Let’s try to keep it that way, eh?”

Maggie snorted a laugh. “Yeah, let’s not kill our boss on the first day. Wouldn’t send the best message to the production team, now would it?”

Lorna shrugged, “Fair enough.”

The rest of the morning passed with little fanfare. Bags were piled in the corner near the curtained dressing areas, one for each actor, filled with costume pieces and various accessories waiting final approval from the production team. As workstations were slowly set to rights and their coffees consumed, the three women bustled around the small room waiting for the rest of the production team to arrive; the actors weren’t due in until closer to eleven.  A quick glance at the wall clock told Cath it was rapidly approaching nine.

Lorna puttered around the various bags and pulled the pieces of clothing from them one at a time, hanging them up along the back wall. Simple pieces that fit with the ideas that Jaime had thrown around during pre-production; jeans and blouses for Emma and various jeans, suits, shirts, and blazers for Robert and Jerry. Cath and Lorna worked together ironing and steaming the pieces so they wrinkle free and ready to grab and go once the actors arrived.

Maggie flitted around the room, getting the remaining loose ends settled; extra kits and pieces of clothing that would be used if alterations were needed. Humming to herself, Maggie moved around the small room. Humming turned to singing and soon Cath and Lorna joined in, belting out the words to ridiculous late 90’s/early 2000’s pop songs. Laughing, Cath wandered to her own bag, pulling out her mobile to provide actually music for their impromptu karaoke session. The three women danced around the room, laughing, dancing, and singing at the top of their lungs.

Applause from the doorway was the first clue that the three of them were no longer alone. Cath squeaked in alarm as she spun around, finding the play’s director, Jaime, laughing hysterically at the door, Zawe standing beside him doubled over in laughter as well. She quickly grabbed her mobile from the table and paused the music. “So um…Welcome!” Cath started, laughing as well, “We’re here all week.”  

Zawe clapped and darted forward to pull Cath into a tight hug. “I’m so thrilled you’re here!”

Cath laughed and returned the embrace, “Me too! So come on in, let me introduce you to my team.” She beamed at the fact that she had a team; that would certainly take some getting used to. Cath made quick introductions and the four women fell quickly into conversation regarding theatre in general.

There was another knock on the doorframe and looking up, Cath found a moderately tall, bearded brunette man standing in the doorway, whom she recognized as Charlie Cox, smiling warmly. He was quickly ushered over and introductions were made once more. Jaime joined the fray and he and Charlie were quickly pulled into conversation with Lorna regarding costumes and character ideas.

Seeing everyone sufficiently occupied, Zawe had taken Cath by the hand and led her to one of the opened stations. The two women quickly fell into conversation, joking and catching up on what had been happening in each other’s lives. Cath hadn’t had the chance to speak with Zawe since the gala a few months back and was thrilled to hear that the book she’d been working on was finally preparing for release. Cath had worked with Zawe on a handful of projects over the past several years and they’d hit it off almost immediately. They were close in age, had similar tastes in books and movies, and shared a similar sense of humor. They’d passed many an early morning shoot laughing themselves silly.

“…So there I was standing there with the back of my dress wide open, trying to grab at the bleeding zipper when Darren, our director, walks in with some poor bloke from the local paper.” Cath threw back her head, laughing at the image Zawe had painted. “Needless to say that was certainly one interview I’ll never forget.”

“God, Zawe, I can only imagine. At least you were mostly dressed. And it certainly gave the show write up a bit of color.” Cath joked, dodging the playful swat Zawe threw her way. “Besides, you remember that morning in Devon? When I got locked out of my hotel room and had to go on set in my dress from the night before…The very one that had gotten soaked in wine when that man lost his balance and fell into our table?” She waved her hands wildly, mimicking her panicked reaction to the flying wine. “I still don’t know how I didn’t get crucified for that. You remember how bloody strict Jaz was.”

Zawe laughed and nodded. “Yes! Oh that was quite the talk of the set.” Her attention waivered at something over Cath’s shoulder, face breaking into a smile as she waved at the doorway behind them.

Cath turned, finding herself standing face to chest with a tall, auburn haired man. His blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of black square framed glasses, but they were no less arresting for it. There was something about the way in which they took her in, the colors swirling between blue and green, which fascinated her. A scruffy beard covered his cheeks and chin, recently trimmed she noted given its length. His hair was just a touch too long, curly and just this side of disarray. He looked completely different from the clean faced, strong jawed man she’d seen on film posters but she’d recognized him all the same. The show’s second leading man, Tom Hiddleston.

                                                          —

The door closed behind him with a bang, causing Tom to wince as he glanced back to make sure he’d not caused any permanent damage to either door or frame. All looked well enough and that would have to do. He glanced once more at his watch, cursing out loud as he took in the time. Fucking hell, he was late. But if…Just maybe if he could make it to the underground station and catch the next arriving train, he would make it to the theatre close enough to call time.

He hadn’t meant to be late; he’d had every intention of making it out of the house and to the theatre on time. That obviously wasn’t going to happen now. He let out an exasperated sigh. Possibly going out the night before had been a mistake. But it had been Daniel’s birthday and he hadn’t seen him in ages. They’d been friends since RADA and did their best to keep in touch over the years; which had been difficult considering their hectic schedules and life in general. When Daniel called the night before and asked if Tom could swing by the pub for a few drinks in honor of his birthday, he had eagerly agreed; looking forward to spending a few hours with old friends. But as these things tended to go, a few drinks turned into talking and suddenly it was nearing midnight and last call.

Tom had made it home and to bed slightly after one and woke at nearly ten to discover that the alarm he’d sworn he’d set either hadn’t been set or hadn’t gone off. He cursed profusely, earning him a confused look from Bobby. He’d thrown on the first clean pair of jeans and jumper he found (the perks of minimalizing his wardrobe) and shoved his feet hastily into his boots before charging down the stairs, Bobby following quickly at his heels. Rounding the corner, he skidded into the kitchen and then through to the back room. He pushed open the back garden door, Bobby barked once and trotted out to do his business. Once Bobby was fed and shut in his kennel, Tom had grabbed his keys and wallet from the side table by the front door and sprinted out of it, the door slamming behind him.

His jog to the underground station was thankfully uneventful and he’d managed to catch the next arriving train, though it was a very near thing. The crowd in Leister Square was easy enough to navigate and he’d only bumped into one or two people in his flight, apologizing as he jogged through the square and onto a side street. Tom felt himself fill with relief as the Harold Pinter theatre came into view. He made his way across the street and up into the stage door entrance, greeting the staff mulling around it warmly. He raced up the stairs as quickly as his feet could carry him, hoping he wasn’t as late as he feared.

Tom could hear laughter echoing from the opened dressing room door as he climbed the last few steps and onto the landing. He was mostly on time, the quick glance at his watch showed it was only a few minutes past eleven. Not the best impression he’d ever made, but certainly not the worst and there was nothing he could do about it presently. With a smile, he made his way through the doorway and into the brightly lit dressing room.

His attention fell first on Zawe, perched on a stool and chatting animatedly with a short woman in dark jeans and an oversized light green jumper. There was something familiar about her, even with her back was turned to him, but he couldn’t quite seem to put a finger on why. It wasn’t until she’d thrown her head back and laughed, a bright and rich sound, when realization struck him. The woman from the Pinter Gala in October. Cath. He laughed despite himself. What were the odds?

She looked absolutely lovely; laughing warmly at whatever she and Zawe had been discussing. Her voice animated and full of warmth as she waved her hands around to emphasize the point she was making. Her long, dark hair was pulled back and piled in a lop-sided bun, though a few stray strands had fallen out of their bindings and had been pushed behind her ear. Zawe smiled at him when she’d turned her head and found him standing by the door and quickly waved him over.

His breath caught in his throat as she turned around, confusion painted across her face. Her dark blue eyes flashing first in surprise then in recognition. Her face broke into a warm and welcoming smile. God, she is stunning.

“Cath this is Tom, my long suffering cuckold of a husband….For the next few months at least.” Zawe gestured at Tom, a playful and warm smile spreading across her face. “Tom, this is Cath. She’s going to be responsible for making us look pretty. Though for you, I suspect she has her work cut out for her.” There was a brief pause before all three burst into laughter.

God, the thought stole across Tom’s mind, she has a wonderful laugh. He quickly shook the thought away, extending his hand to hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Cath took his hand, smiling, and shook it firmly. Her hand was small, dwarfed in his own, smooth and warm. He had no desire to let her or it go.

“Alright,” Jaime yelled, standing up and clapping his hands. The three of them turned to face the director. “Since we’re all here, let’s get started.”

                                                      —

Tom poured himself into the make-up chair, quite ready to be done for the day. He’d forgotten how draining theatre could be, no matter how much he enjoyed it. Their first official rehearsal had gone well; they’d ran through the play twice, stopping occasionally to work on blocking or change a delivery of a line. It was comforting, being in costume (even if the costume was close enough to what he’d wear outside of the theatre) and full make-up (God, though it made face itch something fierce), it made things feel more…real. But blast it all, he was tired.

Cath smiled at him, make-up remover in hand. “Long day?” she joked, handing him the soaked wash cloth. Tom smiled and took it gratefully, wiping his face with a sigh.

“I’d forgotten how much this stuff itches.”

“But it makes you look oh so pretty,” Cath teased, taking the wash cloth back and getting the bits he’d missed the first time around. “You guys are quite good,” she murmured, placing the cloth into the dirty linen bin by her feet and pulling out a bottle of light moisturizer. She pumped a small amount onto her hands, rubbing it between them before reaching and applying it to his slightly reddened face.

“Thank you,” he answered, trying not to think about how nice her touch felt on his skin.

They’d chatted quite a bit in the run up to actually getting himself, Charlie, and Zawe on the stage; and he’d found he very much enjoyed her company. She made him laugh with an ease that he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was warm and genuine; what you saw was you got. They’d talked briefly about his work; she’d seen him in Coriolanus, a friend of a friend had gotten tickets and invited her along, and she’d confessed to being quite impressed with his work in it, even if he was a fair bit shouty at times. She’d seen one or two of the Marvel films and had a fair grasp on his role in them, but they hadn’t really been her cup of tea.

He’d been almost grateful for her lack of response to his fame, or infamy depending on how you looked at it. It was a wonderful change of pace. She asked him questions about his experiences on set and what had lead him to acting in the first place. He, in turn, asked her about the work she’d done, in theatre and in television, he’d been pleased to find out, and they’d shared stories about long days on set or backstage antics they’d encountered.

“Alright,” she declared, leaning back with a soft smile. “All done. You, good sir, are free to go.”

The loss of her warmth against him was disheartening in a way he did not wish to explore anytime soon.

He returned her smile. “Thank you, my lady. I look forward to working with you in future.” Tom stood and headed back to the screened area in the far corner of the room to change back into his street clothes. Had he turned back, he would have caught the faint blush that spread across Cath’s face at his words.

                                                           —

Tom cursed as he caught sight of the time. He was late. Of fucking course he was late. God, what a mess. His hair was plastered to his head and he hadn’t had time to do anything save brush it from his face as he ran from the house and down the street towards the Underground station.

Bobby, the little shit, had been an unholy terror. He’d rushed out the garden door that morning, with complete disregard for the sheets of rain that were belting down (at the rate it was falling, Tom was thrilled to death it wasn’t snow), and dived head first into the muddy flower beds instead of calmly doing his business and rushing back inside for breakfast. Tom, knowing the horror it was to wash the foul beast, charged after him, winding up soaked in the process. Both muddy and thoroughly pissed at each other, man and beast made their way inside the house. Bathing Bobby had been an exercise in mutual frustration. The spaniel whined and growled through the whole process, swiping paws at his master in a fruitless attempt at escape. The bathroom was a disaster, water and mud splashed over the floors and walls and Tom groaned, knowing what a nightmare it would be to clean. Toweled dry and still growling intermittently, Bobby was unceremoniously shut in his kennel and his food bowl shoved in after.

Grumbling, Tom took the stairs two at a time and made as quick a work of cleaning the guest bath as he could. He’d just loaded the remaining towels into the washer when he caught sight of the time off the clock in his kitchen. His eyes bugged, how had it gotten so late?

Another string of curses followed Tom up the stairs once again as he dashed into his bedroom and grabbed clean clothing from the wardrobe (his usual dark jeans and a jumper). He ran into the bathroom, cursing the fact that he didn’t have time for a proper shower. And certainly no thanks to the beast in his backroom.

He grabbed a wash cloth and wiped the mud and dirt from his face and arms as best he could before pulling his jeans and jumper on. He sat on his bed to get himself settled in his socks and boots, knowing that with his luck, if he tried to do this while standing he’d fall and break his neck. That would be the icing on the cake of this foul day.

Dressed and still rather cross, Tom grabbed his keys and wallet from the side table and then his umbrella from the hall tree, quickly shrugging into his wool coat, before dashing out the door. The rain was still coming down in unrelenting sheets and the jog from his front door to the station had his boots and the cuffs of his jeans soaked through. He grimaced but knew there was little he could do for it now. At the ticket gate he paused and pulled his mobile from his pocket, quickly dialing the theatre, hoping to catch someone and inform them of his tardiness.

The phone rang once. Then twice before the line clicked and a warm female voice answered. “Hello?”

He recognized Cath’s voice immediately and made a determined effort to keep his frustration in check. Absolutely none of this was her fault. He took a deep breath and explained as quickly as he could. “It’s Tom, I’m running late. It’s been…A fair bit hectic this morning. But I am on my way.”

“Alright, Tom.” There was a clear hint of laughter in her voice, but she held it back remarkably well. “Take care. See you when you get here.”

Tom echoed her statement and ended the call, shoving his mobile back into his pocket. He made his way hastily through the barrier and down the escalator towards the filling platform. He brushed his wet hair from his face as he waited for the next train. He mentally cursed his lack of coffee but there hadn’t been any time and hoped against hope that there would be some at the theatre. Or that he could possibly duck out at some point and hit the Costa a few streets down. As long as he got caffeine somewhere (and in the relatively near future) he didn’t care.

By the time the train had pulled into the station and Tom had made his way from the platform and onto the street, the rain had died to a slow drizzle. He rushed from the station towards the theatre passing the aforementioned Costa with a longing look; he was far too late to risk stopping now, no matter how badly he wanted to. He nodded at John, one of the security at the stage door, and climbed the stairs two at a time. His watch had him at twenty minutes late and he cringed. He’d been doing so well with his time management in the last few weeks and this blip stung.

He burst through the dressing room door, pulling off his coat, hanging it up, and dropping the umbrella by the door. “So sorry,” he called. Charlie and Zawe were dressed and sitting at their respective stations, chatting with each other and with Lorna and Maggie. They looked up at his entrance and called greetings out.

Cath emerged from the back, smiling. “You made it!”

She quickly ushered him over towards his station. His eyes widened as he took in the waiting take away cup of coffee and brownie awaiting him. Gods, he could have kissed her for her thoughtfulness. He blinked the thought away and settled quickly into his chair before turning back to her. “You are a lifesaver. Honestly, thank you.”

“Can’t have you falling off stage because you’ve not had the requisite amount of caffeine in your system, now can we?” They both laughed and Tom reached gratefully for the gently steaming coffee, taking a tentative sip. It burned, but in the best way and he closed his eyes, savoring the warmth and the smooth bitterness. “Would you two like a moment alone?”

Cath’s teasing words snapped Tom back to himself and he blushed, quickly putting the cup back onto the counter. “Nah,” he quipped, once he’d recovered himself. “I trust your discretion.”

“Well that certainly explains a lot, Hiddleston,” she teased, not bothering to hide her laughter. “Who would have thought you were into exhibition?”

Tom shrugged, enjoying the playful if not slightly evocative teasing. “Why do you think I got into acting?”

Cath only laughed harder, shaking her head as she turned to grab a towel. “What happened to you, Tom? Your hair’s a mess.”

“It’s a long story,” he grumbled, grabbing the coffee once more and taking another long sip. “Involving a stubborn dog and far too much rain.”

“Yikes.” She rubbed the towel over his head, drying his hair as best she could. A smirk spread across her face as she spotted a muddy paw print on the side of his neck. “Looks like the dog won, though.” She pointed at the spot and Tom let out a groan. “He marked you.”

“Stupid bloody dog.”

Cath chuckled to herself, wiping the mark from his neck and dropping the towel into the dirty linen bin. She reached down and grabbed the hairdryer, making sure it was plugged in before running it over Tom’s unruly hair, making sure it was well and truly dry. “Alright,” she announced, shutting off the hairdryer and placing it back in its holster. “That’s about as good as we can get. Now scoot.”

Tom laughed, thanking her again for the coffee and for fixing the mess his morning had made of his hair. “You really are a lifesaver, Cath.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I haven’t heard that one before. Now off with you, before we both get yelled at for your tardiness.”

With a smile and a wave, Tom made his way from the dressing room towards the stairs leading to the stage. Cath watched as he went, a warm smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of an errant curl sticking up at the back of his head. Silly man, she thought to herself. You are going to be a world of trouble, aren’t you?

Next

[prettyboyswow]

Given It All (pt. 2)

Author’s Note: I’m back and out of uni for 3 weeks!!! You know what that means? LOTS OF PEAKY FICS/ REQUESTS WRITTEN! I’m excited and I hope you all are too. Here’s the second part of Given It All. Hope you like it! 

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of language, nothing crazy... lots of angst

It had been three weeks since you had seen Tommy, and it had been the hardest couple of weeks of your life. You were still trying desperately to find ways to free Polly, Arthur, John, and Michael. But every attempt seemed useless. You felt as if you had tried everything, and nothing was working. Even using the Shelby name didn’t get you far. So, although you had made a promise to yourself to stay as far away from Thomas Shelby as possible, you found yourself pulling into the driveway of your old home, Arrow House. 

It looked the same as you had left it and it gave you comfort. The house looked the same, but so much had changed. You took slow, cautious steps towards the large wooden door. Your stomach was twisted in knots and you felt like you’d be physically sick at any moment. You didn’t exactly know what you’d say to him, but this was your last resort. 

With one last deep breath, you decided it was now or never. Your small fist pounded quickly on the wooden door before you took a step back. A moment later you were greeted by a wide-eyed Mary, “Mrs. Shelby!” She quickly stepped to the side and ushered you in, “I wasn’t expecting you. Mr. Shelby isn’t here at the moment.”

The knots muscles in your stomach loosened their grip and you took a deep breath, ”Oh.” 

She smiled at you with the saddest look in her eyes, and you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. You can’t imagine how horrible Thomas has been since your last encounter. Poor Mary... 

“When should he be home,” you coughed awkwardly and shoved your hands into your coat pockets. 

“He told me he’d be back ‘round dinner time.”

You nodded your head once and glanced past her, “I think I’ll stay until he gets back. I uh, I need to grab the rest of my things as well.”

Mary only nodded and said a quiet, “of course, Mrs. Shelby.” 

With that, she made her way back to the kitchens, leaving you in the foyer. You made your way to the stairs, running your fingertips over the smooth wooden railing as you walked slowly up the stairs. You would miss this house, and it’s staff, so much. You got to the top of the stairs and went to the bedroom that you and Tommy had once shared. 

Your heart ached as you pushed the door open. It was exactly as you had left it. The drawers that you had tried to quickly push back into the dresser were still sticking half way out. The extra suitcases that you had pulled from the closet laid on the bed. He hadn’t moved anything since your hasty exit. You didn’t know whether you found this to be a good thing or not. No matter how angry you were at Tommy, you still loved him. And the thought of him spending his nights with another woman made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach and tears form in your eyes. 

You quickly pushed the thought to the back of your mind. Your main mission right now was to pack more of your things. You had been wearing the same five outfits for the past three weeks, and you desperately needed a change of pace.  For the next two hours, you neatly packed your clothes, makeup, and jewelry into the suitcases you had left behind. You tried not to think of the reality of the situation.  You were packing your things and leaving your home. The place that you thought you’d start a family, is the place where it all ended. Not only were you leaving your home, but you were also leaving the love of your life. Thomas Shelby had been your man since you were nineteen years old. Since the day you had met him, you had dreamed of living on a large plot of land, having boatloads of children, and growing old together. Ten years later and it was all coming to an end. 

After you had finished packing everything you could, you brought the luggage down the stairs and loaded them into your car. You contemplated leaving then. Packing all of your things had been more emotional than you had anticipated, and you had found yourself crying more than a couple of times. But, you knew that the only way you’d be able to get the Polly, John, Arthur, and Michael out of prison was with Tommy’s help. 

It was almost 6:30, dinner time at Arrow House. And, Tommy was still not back. You were beginning to think he wasn’t coming, it wouldn’t be the first time he promised to be back by dinner and didn’t make it. You decided that you’d stay for dinner, even if Tommy wasn’t coming back tonight. Mary had informed the kitchen staff of your arrival and they thought it’d be a nice idea to cook your favorite meal. You sat down at the large, empty dining room table and the feeling was too comfortable. You sitting alone to eat dinner while Tommy worked. You smiled sadly to yourself and gave yourself a mental pep talk. Stay long enough for dinner, and then head back to the hotel room you’d been staying in. 

You were halfway through dinner when you heard the front door open and shut with a loud thud, “Her car is here. Where is she!?” Tommy’s deep, thick Birmingham accent sent shivers down your spine and made you drop your fork in shock. You saw Mary point awkwardly to your position at the table as she stood in the doorway and you quickly prepared yourself for Tommy to come barging in. You stood up and smoothed out your dress with shaking hands, your eyes catching the glimmer of your wedding band.

When you looked up, your eyes met Tommy’s and you felt yourself slipping out of the control you thought you had. He looked terrible, his eyes were sunken in and his skin was pale. He looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, yet he was still the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

“Thomas,” you sounded strange and you quickly cleared your throat. His eyes never left yours as he took long strides towards you, his eyes were wide and held a look so fierce you were transfixed. In the blink of an eye, he was standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)?”

Oh. You weren’t expecting that at all. You weren’t expecting him to fall to his knees and beg for you back, but you also weren’t expecting him to be so cold. “I need your help getting our family out of jail, Thomas.” 

His eyes bore into yours and his breathing was shallow, making you even more nervous than you had been. “It’s being taken care of. Nothing for you to stick your nose in,” his voice seemed hollow and he took a step back from you before falling into one of the dining room chairs. He took a cigarette from his case and lit it swiftly. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you took a seat in the chair you had previously occupied. “What do you mean it’s ‘nothing for me to stick my nose in’?” You were becoming frustrated. What did he have planned?

“Exactly what it means. I have it under control. You don’t need to worry about it, or do anything,” he blew a puff of smoke out and finally took his eyes off of you.

“They’re my family, Tom. Of course, I’m worried about them. Someone has to,” you couldn’t hide the annoyance from your tone. He was going to piss you off, and you’d only been in the same room for less than five minutes. 

He rolled his eyes at your tone and blew another cloud of smoke from his full lips. “They quit being your family the moment you left me.”

He’d said a lot of hurtful things to you over the years. Some of them playfully or unintentionally. Others he said specifically to hurt you. But this was one of the worst. The Shelby’s were more of a family to you than your biological family, and he knew that. Polly had practically raised you. How dare he say that?

“You son of a bitch,” you laughed a cold, sarcastic laugh before you pushed your chair back. You stood quickly and looked down at him, “I’ve been more of a family member to them than you have.”

You walked past him as quickly as your heels would carry you.  Stopping in the foyer to grab your coat on, you heard Tommy’s chair thud to the ground and angry footsteps follow you into the foyer. “So, what? You come back ‘ere just to turn ‘round and leave again?” His voice boomed loudly over your shoulder. You rolled your eyes as you finished buttoning your coat. 

“Yes, Thomas. I told you when I left, I refuse to be with someone who loves their business more than they love me.”

“And, who the fuck said I love my business more than I love you,” he grabbed your elbow and spun you around to face him. 

You quickly yanked your arm away and took a step away from him, “You don’t have to say it, Thomas. It’s obvious!” 

He only scoffed in response and ran his hands over his face. “Exactly,” you huffed.  

“Well, what the fuck d’ you want me to say? I love you? You know I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids, (Y/N)! Why else would I marry ya,” he took a large step forward, putting himself directly in front of you and placed both of his hands on your cheeks. 

You were losing your resolve. You could feel it slipping away the moment he placed his hand on your elbow, but now that he was this close it was basically gone. “You’re only saying all of this because I’m leaving. I need you to change, Tommy. I can’t keep going back and forth.”

His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, “I really do love you. M’not just sayin’ tha’.”

You nodded and blinked slowly as tears filled your eyes, “I know. I love you too. But we need distance, Tom. You need to get your priorities straight.”

With that, you placed your hand firmly against his chest and took a step back. You left Tommy standing in the foyer as you made your way to your car. You wished he had worked through dinner as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. 

Note: I’m not crazy about this part. Let me know what you guys think & if you still want another part! Also, feel free to leave suggestions of what you think should happen, or what you’d like to see happen in this story!

** Given It All 3 and 4 **

[takemedancingmaine]

Honest

@deathbylowden you didn’t ask me specifically, but I really hope you enjoy this!

Listen – Honest by Drake Bell

This is unusual for you. You’re not the type of person to play ‘hard to get.’ You’re a firm believer in the idea that if you like someone you shouldn’t waste that time by playing a foolish game. Yet here you are, turning Jack Lowden down.

It’s not that you would ever, in a million years, want to turn him down. He’s got something about him, something inexplicable, that draws you in. Or maybe it’s not just one thing but a bit of everything, his humour, his eyes that reach your soul, his charm. This is only your first encounter, but you know him thanks to his face being all over the place, interviews in magazines on the newsstands.

So what the hell are you doing playing hard to get? You’re arguing with yourself. On the one hand, you really do think he’s genuine. On the other, you can’t help but think he must have girls fawning all over him and you cannot imagine just being one in a dumb crowd. That voice inside you is terrified of just being another in a long line. That voice wins out.

“Can I take you out for dinner one you get off work,” he smiles, dimples flashing. He’s leaning against the side of your desk with his arms folded over his chest.

You work as an intern for his public relations director. You’d only just started a few weeks ago, and knew he was one of the clients you’d be working with—which was perhaps why you’d taken such close notice of his previous interviews—but being in his presence was different than you’d expected. He was intimidating, for sure, but he didn’t ooze arrogance, which was a comfort.

When he’d been introduced to you, just a half-hour before, he gave you a smile that made your heart feel like it was tied to a thousand balloons, ready to float away. He’d gone into his meeting then, and on his way out he’d stopped at your desk to chat—or simply to ask you out. He cut right to the point, he did.

“I can’t,” you avoid his gaze and look toward the computer screen to the spreadsheet you’re editing. “I’ve got a class early tomorrow morning,” you shrug.

“A class?” He asks a little confused.

“I’m only here in the afternoons on Wednesday’s,” you nod. “I’m a masters student at King’s. I have class on Wednesday morning.”

Jack drops himself into the chair on the opposite side of your desk and leans forward. His elbows on his knees and one of his hands running over his beard. “What d’you study?”

“Photojournalism,” you answer, your eyes shifting from the screen to his face and back again. You note his confusion and continue before he can say anything else.

“It’s odd, that I’d be working here. I know,” you tell him. “It’s great money though, and I do get to work with photographers on a regular basis, gain some experience that way,” you glance to him again. Keeping your eyes on him this time, forcing yourself to look into his blue eyes that haunt your dreams. “Besides, I studied media relations in uni, so this would’ve been quite the proper fit if I hadn’t changed my studies.”

“What d’you want to do?” He asks, placing his elbows on your desk and resting his chin in his hand.

You know what he’s asking, but you tease him anyway.

“I want to finish my work and go home for the night, so if you could just see your way out of my office, that’d be wonderful.”

Jack’s not at all deterred, a smirk falling onto his pink lips. “I meant career-wise. What would you like to do in photojournalism?”

“I want to get into the humanitarian line of work,” you shrug. “Just take photos and spread the word for causes and the like that deserve it.”

“That’s really cool,” he says sincerely, his right hand running across his ginger beard. “How much d’you have left?”

“Three semesters,” you make an effort to look back toward your computer. Your brain is starting to get foggy. You can faintly smell his cologne and his eyes are making you weak, your mind slowing every second he’s still here.

“So I’ll see you around here quite a bit then?” his hopeful tone makes you bite your lip.

“Yes,” you nod. “So one passed up dinner invitation will not be the end of you.”

“It could be,” he keeps on. “I can feel myself getting fainter as the seconds pass,” he pretends to slink back into his seat and closes his eyes. You narrow your eyes at him and end up giggling when he opens one eye to peak at your reaction to his antics.

“That’s cold,” he shakes his head and stands, offering his hand to you. “I’ll see you,” he says when you grab his hand and shake. “Soon,” he adds and with that, he leaves your office with only a single glance over his shoulder to you.

The second time you see Jack in person he’s actually waiting outside your office when you arrive. He’s sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with his phone in his hand distractedly.

“How long have you just been sat there?” You ask, pulling your keys from your pocket.

In the week since you’d last seen him your done nothing but think about him. It was both a blessing and a curse, the incessant thoughts of the blonde haired blue eyed boy.

You’d been assigned to a bit of his media coverage analysis, working to get him noticed by all the right people in the industries he thrived in. Naturally, this meant looking through his work catalog and categorizing things, looking for bookings to try and get him into, watching media coverage of him, etc. Jack was literally on your mind non-stop at work. And at home or in class? He was always there in the back of your mind.

You didn’t have to let him know that. You didn’t have to stroke his ego.

When he looks up at you now you fight hard to look indifferent, when even just the weight of his gaze makes you weak.

“I had a meeting this morning, and I know you don’t come in until later on Wednesdays, so…” he trails off as you unlock your door and step inside. As you slip off your jacket you hear him shuffling as he stands up and follows you into the small space.

“How long ago was the meeting?” You ask, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Two hours,” he mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “Felt like longer though because I knew I’d be seeing you. Time just lagged when I needed it to fly.”

His smirk is slowly starting to appear, just a shadow gracing his face at the moment, as you turn your computer on and pull out a form you’d left to fill out when you rushed out of the office yesterday.

“Not accustomed to waiting for what you want?” You ask.

“Not when I’d already been waiting an inexplicably long week to see you again and was so close to where I knew you’d be,” the smirk deepens in his features as he sinks into the chair across the desk from you that he’d occupied last week.

You roll your eyes and feel the butterflies in your stomach. Ignore them. It’ll be fine. They’ll pass. Great. Now you’re talking to yourself.

“I know better than to ask you to dinner again and have my ego bruised when you say no,” he says now as you actually try to concentrate on the form in front of you in hopes of distracting yourself from him.

“So you’re here to tell me you’ve given up?” You briefly shoot him a puzzled look.

“I’m here to tell you I’m going to order some takeaway for lunch and then eat it right here at this very desk. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll order enough for you to share,” he leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and looking at you, waiting for you to challenge him.

You don’t though. You just ignore him and continue to work on the form as Jack takes out his phone, typing, and scrolling intently.

Twenty minutes later, of him just sitting in relative silence as you work, he springs up from the chair suddenly.

You jump back at his sudden movement. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Food’s here,” he smiles. “I’ll be right back, love.” You watch him get up and dart out of your office toward the elevators.

You can’t help but notice that your heartbeat hasn’t slowed down even while he’s gone. He’s having an effect on you.

“How’d you know I like Thai?” You ask as he steps back into your office a few minutes later with the bag of food in hand, a smile on his face.

“I asked Jennifer,” he shrugs and starts taking cartons out of the bag and sorting them out on the desk between the two of you.

“You talked to my boss about the food I like?” You asked.

“I was here for two hours,” he says easily, pulling out chopsticks for himself. “Plus,” he pauses and hands you the other pair of chopsticks, “I wanted to impress you that’d I’d done some research. Your favorite food from your favorite shop.”

“Color me impressed,” you admit as you start to dig in on the carton of Pad Thai he’d gotten for you.

“Perhaps now you’ll grant me a proper date with you?” He asks.

“Don’t push your luck, Lowden,” your laughter fills the space around you as you shake your head and he pouts at you.

“Fancy seeing you in this particular pub on this particular night,” you hear the voice say from beside you. Your turn away from your colleague Trish, the one who’d invited you to drinks with a few other office members, and find Jack standing on your other side.

“You had something to do with his, didn’t you?” You ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

It’s only three days after your last encounter. But you feel the impalpable pull again just the same. As if it’s been much longer as if your body is just trying to force you to get closer to him.

He looks good. He’s in black jeans and a black shirt with a navy blazer and black motorcycle boots. His hair is all a mess and his beard is filling in nicely. You close your eyes a moment, hoping it’s much too dark in the pub for him to notice your blush.

“I may have convinced Trish to ask you to drinks tonight, yeah,” he gives you a small smile, almost nervous.

“May have?” You ask.

“Alright, I coerced her into it,” he shrugs and picks up the glass beside his hand, taking a sip. You watch the glass raise to his mouth, trying not to stare at his lips, and watch as the amber liquid moves past his lips, watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, watch the way he licks his lips when he takes the glass away from them.

“I wanted to see you,” his voice pulls your attention away from thoughts of his lips and musings about how soft they must be, “and I knew I couldn’t wait another week.”

“You’re quite keen on me, aren’t you?” You ask now. You’ve only had a few sips of your pint, so you’re not sure where the courage to ask this question comes from, but you’ve asked it. And now you’re waiting with bated breath to hear his response.

“You’ve been all I can think about properly for a week and a half now,” he smiles sheepishly, his eyes glancing down briefly before lifting back up to glance at you.

“So you’re stalking me?”

“Not quite,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “But, I have been thinking of ways to win you over.”

“You want to win me over?” You ask.

“Your beauty drew me in,” he says, his blue eyes watching your face intently. “But once we started talking that day I got to admire your quick wit. Plus, I liked the way you didn’t treat me any differently. And after this Wednesday I found even more that I like spending time with you. Truly,” he nods, affirming to himself. “Even when you were working and I was just sat there, and we were silent… it was nice. It was harmonious and not at all awkward.”

“It wasn’t awful, no,” you agree with him.

“And now all I can think about is pulling you close and kissing the hell out of your lips right here and now before spending the rest of the evening relentlessly teasing you just to see that wit you’ve got.”

You realize you’re holding your breath. “Shit,” you breathe out softly.

“I’ve got an option B though if that doesn’t win you over,” he adds.

“Oh.”

“It’s to just wait outside your office every day until you wane and give in and inevitably fall in love with me because I can see myself falling in love with you if you’ll let me,” he shrugs.

“You might scare away the other clients by always lurking around,” you joke.

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smiles.

“Or,” you bite your bottom lip for a second before continuing, “you could just kiss me and make option b a moot point.”

Jack’s blue eyes are alight, shining even in the dim lighting. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he sets down his whiskey and steps up to you, one hand raising to cradle your face while his other arm snakes around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your cheeks are already flushed.

“Be prepared to be swept off your feet,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, his nose butting gently against your own.

“Just kiss me you pain-in-the-arse,” you bring your arms around his neck and tug gently on the hair on the back of his head.

“Yes ma’am,” he then closes his eyes and kisses you. You’re unable to form any other thoughts but this one: fuckin’ keep him at all costs.