#ask useless german

[ask-p2-germany]

Well, you certainly haven't changed. Nice arms, btw.

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Its surprising no one ever used the name Fritz before, bc soldier has a voice line where call medic fritz¿

Tbh I think that might be where it came from, but if I'm being perfectly honest if you're going to treat Soldier being xenophobic as "proof" that Medic's real name is Fritz then yall better start calling Sniper "Balbo Bravins"

[skitskatdacat63]

Okay finally posting my pics from when I went to Hanger-7 on Saturday July 1st !!

RB9 🥹

STR3 !!!

RB16B

RB7

Various Red Bull-Saubers(including Kimi's first F1 car!!!)

Tbh I think seeing these cars was more surreal and insane to me than going to the actual race the very next day. I think it's because I'm more deranged about the 2010s than nowadays(for the most part), so seeing all these incredibly iconic cars in the flesh(especially ones like the STR3 and Hungry Heidi) was just unbelievable to me. And the fact that it's free entry as well??? Yeah yeah, feel free to waltz into our aircraft hanger, free of charge, and witness these spectacles of engineering 🥱

[echo-s-land]

[inkyquince]

do you have a favorite person in cod? Personally I find Konig hot ♡

Phillip Graves, Gaz, Price.

Maybe Keegan, he's fun

[playingonedchess]

and now the other guests putting the football on in the common room

[yanosdiary]

"It's. Fien. Fine. Fbjsbdisbsis"

Also me:

[konigsblog]

tw: rape/noncon, kidnapping

note: merry christmas :3 i have a few christmas themed posts for you guys! hope you enjoy <3 photo credit: @ave661

kidnapper könig's christmas surprise 🎁.

you've been locked away down in the basement for months on end, without sunlight and only the smell of dust keeping you company. of course, he visits you. calming you when you scream for him to get away. he's always by your side, compensating for his horrors.

you've lost track of time, you don't remember the last time you saw sunlight, let alone a calendar to tell you the date. occasionally you'd ask him what day it was, but könig had a theme, where he'd lie about the day to fuck with your head and confuse you with time, telling you that it was saturday, when he told you yesterday that it was wednesday. you're so easily worked up; so incredibly sensitive, that you can't help but cry when something goes wrong or confuses you. a shell of the person you used to be.

and because he's so mean to you, you're surprised when you're awoken to the sound of könig coming downstairs, with a heavy, filled sack over his shoulder. you're confused, eyes blurry before they focus, whimpering from exhaustion.

“merry christmas, my dear.” he mutters quietly, your eyes fill with tears, realising how long you've truly been here... he hands you a gift from the sack, encouraging you to open it. slowly, you tug at the ribbon, his eyes never leaving your frame. you remove the bow, before tearing open the wrapping paper and opening the small box. inside, there was a pair of handcuffs.

confused, you cocked your head to the side, looking at könig with curious eyes. “this is useful for your other gifts, little mouse. open this one.” he hands you another box, similar size to the last one. you slowly open it again. pulling the box and opening it to find a ball gag this time. you whimper, feeling könig's hands grab your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“be good for me, liebling...” he huffs out, grunting while you struggle. using the handcuffs, he binds your wrists together, chuckling when he has you restrained on the ground. you use your feet, useless as the large man grips your ankles, cursing at you in muffled german.

könig puts the ball gag around your head, muffling your noises. he flipped you around and onto your stomach, pulling your hips into the air so that you were forced into a downwards doggy position. using the ribbons from your presents, he tied your ankles together tightly into a knot, a chilling smile plastered on his face at the sight.

another gift was taken from the large sack könig had came into the basement with. he opened it, smiling at you the entire time. he watched as your eyes glistened and widened when he pulled out a sex toy — specifically a large dildo. you, of course, squealed and wriggled, earning yourself a painful spank to your tight ass.

he placed himself behind you and pulled your light blue panties down, chuckling and taunting you the entire time. könig just wanted to show his devotion as your kidnapper, how he'd fuck you in the future, and how your body no longer belonged to you but instead him. he toyed with the dildo; dragging it up your slit, collecting your slick juicies on the toy. you cried out, sobs muffled with the ball gag, leaving you shaking like a leaf.

“oh, meine liebling... won’t you understand?” he sighs out, still rubbing the tip of the dildo against your cunt. your eyes filled with tears, beginning to spill down your cheeks. “i just want to train this pretty hole to take my cock, prinzessin.” he begins to push inside, filling your tight pussy with the large toy. you're so tight — unused and inexperienced that you can't help but cry our shakily, whimpering at the sensation pulling at your core.

each thrust he makes with the toy is agony for your unprepared cunt, leaving you swollen and sore as he continues with his assault. pained cries echo throughout the basement, along with the sounds of könig's cruel, taunting laughter. you begin to feel your body reacting against you, your pussy becoming wetter and wetter the more he pushes inside, and your nipples perking. he rubs your clit, small circles leaving you an utter mess, and your orgasm approaching and waiting to happen.

you're stunned, muscles tensing and core tightening as your orgasm comes crashing down onto you. only the feeling of your kidnapper's bulge keeping you from giving in to his needs. you tighten around the rubber material, panting heavy, your panties still down your thighs and collecting the droplets of cum running down your pretty, supple thighs. your chest rises and falls as könig begins to unzip his jeans, one hand on your ass, spreading apart your ass cheeks.

fighting against him was useless, whatever he wanted, he got. you were evidence of that. you could squirm all you liked, but regardless of how many times you pleaded and begged for mercy, he'd have his way with you. you felt something hot, something bulbous run over your ass. he humped you sloppily; fucking his cock between your thighs, making a slick mess of your pussy before he would be ruining you and morphing your hole to fit his size.

“stop shaking’... the more you struggle, the more it'll hurt.” the feeling of könig's tip running between your folds was leaving your jaw slack with anticipation and terror, knowing that a man of his size would surely have a cock matching his statue...

he began pushing inside your slit, filling you up inch by inch. broken sobs filled the air, leaving your throat in stuttered moans as he began working his hips against your ass. he rocked his broad hips back and forth, dragging himself in and out to get you slick enough to take him fash and rough. “don’t worry-- you’ll enjoy it, mäusi.” he mocked, teasing you.

he spat a fat glob of saliva between your ass, watching as it ran down to your filled cunt, acting as lube for him to work his way inside. könig was practically splitting you apart on his big, veiny cock; destroying you for his own, selfish needs. a large hand came down to smack your ass, grunting at the pulsing sensation of your gummy walls around the girth of his large dick.

he began quickening his pace, not wasting a minute of his time inside you. könig's hand gripped your bound, tied wrists, tugging at them as he pumped his hot cock into you. the sound of laboured breathing was prominent and audible, groaning hoarsely and gutturally as you continue to clutch and latch onto his thick dick. “go on, little mouse. cry, cry for me to stop.” könig's sick and twisted enjoyment of your pain was depraved; it was filthy for him to get off to your fear like this.

his hand came around to pull the ball gag away from your lips, allowing your sobs to be heard. the impact of his tip against your cervix was agonizing, and he only got harder the faster he drove his hips into your ass. your cunny drooled around him instinctively, betraying you. god, you sure as hell didn't want any of this, this wasn't how your life was supposed to turn out — bruised and broken on the ground of a man's basement — but your body reacted regardless of what you thought; was pleasured by könig's punishments.

you cried loudly, a pained whine flowing from your puffy lips the longer his abuse went on. you were vulnerable when you were tied up; unable to fight him off of you, forced to surrender to his needs and greedy demands. your pussy became wetter, with euphoria dripping from your pretty pussy, allowing könig to fuck into you faster with ease.

pearly, white beads of thick cum began to ooze from könig's tip inside you. falling out into your cunny with each thrust, his potent release getting fucked deeper into your warm, wet walls. forced to listen to the sounds of könig's pleasure as he inflicted pain onto you for his own benefit. “such a bad girl. crying so loudly, that must be you’re desperate for more, ja? with the way your pretty pussy is squeezing my dick like this, i’m sure that's all you need...”

you weeped, sniffling at tears rolled down your tearstained, raw cheeks, burning and painful against your skin. the wind was knocked from your lungs as he pounded into you, silencing you as he fucked his potent arousal deeper into you, cumming with a low grunt when you tightened and throbbed around him one last time, before losing yourself and cumming all down his shaft. you buried your face into the dirty, concrete ground, ashamed and embarrassed to admit that you came all over him.

your dignity and decency was stripped of you, and the only thing you could do was gaze over at the glistening dildo, attempting to cover your pussy from him.

[dragoneyes618]

"A Jew passed in front of Hadrian [ the second-century Roman emperor] and greeted him. The king asked, "Who are you?" He answered, "I am a Jew." Hadrian exclaimed, "How dare a Jew pass in front of Hadrian and greet him?" and ordered, "Off with his head!" Another Jew passed and, seeing what happened to the first man, did not greet him. Hadrian asked, "Who are you?" He answered, "A Jew." He exclaimed, "How dare a Jew pass in front of Hadrian without giving a greeting?" and again ordered, "Off with his head!" His senators said, "We cannot understand your actions. He who greeted you was put to death, and he who did not greet you was put to death!" Hadrian replied, "Do you dare to advise me how I am to deal with those I hate?"

- Lamentations Rabbah 3:9 commenting on verse 3:58

Hadrian acknowledged what most antisemites deny: Their hatred of Jews is unassuageable by any Jewish behavior. Thus, antisemites who fault Jews for "pushing in where they are not wanted" presumably would find no fault with those Jews who ghettoize themselves and remain within their own community. Yet studies have shown that the very antisemites who despise Jews for their "incursions" into the majority culture also are apt to denounce them for "clannishly sticking together."

Antisemites frequently reach for the argument that sounds most plausible. Thus, Jew-haters in the former Soviet Union long focused on Jews as capitalists who were subverting communism, while American antisemites accused Jews of being communists and subverting capitalism.

It is useless to try to reason with these disciples of Hadrian. As the nineteenth-century German historian Theodore Momsen noted: "You are mistaken if you believe that anything at all can be achieved by reason. In years past I thought so myself and kept protesting against the monstrous infamy that is antisemitism. But it is uselss, completely useless" (cited in Deborah Lipstadt, Denying the Holocaust, page 1)."

- Jewish Wisdom, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, pages 463-464

[vettelsvee]

PREGNANCY JOURNEY | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

rbr sebastian vettel x schumacher!reader | part 1 here

summary: a little bit of your pregnancy journey with seb

word count: 2809

warnings: none of it! just seb and reader being cute (at least that's what i think sjsj). settled on 2012 season

a/n: I love dad!seb bye, pls send me requests bc he's literally the seb i love to write the most about

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!

Yours and Seb's families

It had only been two weeks since Sebastian and you had discovered you were going to be parents in that room in Hungary, and you wanted to start sharing the news with your family.

After much deliberation on how you could do it in such a special way, you decided to organize an intimate dinner at the house they shared in Switzerland.

As you enjoyed the delicious dishes you prepared yourself with the useless help of your boyfriend, nerves filled you both as you prepared to share the news at the end of the dinner. So, when desserts arrived at the table and you enjoyed them while chatting animatedly about trivial matters, Vettel gently took your hand under the table. With a glance, you knew it was time to tell your parents what you had been hiding.

You took your glass of wine, from which you hadn't been drinking, and stood up, causing the attentive gazes of the three present to focus on what you were about to say:

"Mom, Dad. Heike, Norbert," you began. "Today you're not here just because I'm showing off my ridiculous cooking skills, but for a more special reason."

Confusion arose among the older couples, who exchanged confused looks with each other.

You began to get emotional, finding it impossible to articulate your words. Therefore, Seb took over for you, continuing with the improvised speech:

"I know it might not be the right time," the younger German expressed, taking your hand, "but you're going to be grandparents."

"Wait… What do you mean, Sebastian?" your mum asked curiously, doubting what her son-in-law just told them.

"That's right, son," Norbert agreed with your mum. "What are you trying to tell us?"

"We're going to be parents," you whispered, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I'm pregnant."

As soon as your mum heard from your own mouth that you were expecting a child, she rushed to hug you tightly, immediately joined by Vettel's mother, causing all three women to have teary eyes. Norbert immediately ran to hug his son, shouting in excitement as he did so, and your dad, on the other hand, was in shock, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Wait a moment, Y/N," Michael commented, rising and positioning himself next to his son-in-law. "Are you saying that you've been accompanying Seb all season while pregnant, and on top of that, you've kept it from me?"

You started laughing at your dad’s comment. Sebastian, on the other hand, began to feel fear for the first time in his life towards the man who initially became his idol and, over time, not only his friend and mentor, but also his father-in-law.

"Dad, no!" you denied. "I haven't been pregnant all this time. I'm currently about three weeks along, and we found out as soon as we arrived in Hungary because I was nauseous and dizzy the whole trip," you explained.

"I'm sorry if this caught you off guard," your boyfriend apologized, especially to Michael. "It’s not like we haven't been hiding the pregnancy," the young man declared, "but we needed time to process it and make sure it wasn't a false alarm."

Schumacher sighed in relief and wrapped his arm around his wife. Heike hugged her husband, who still couldn't believe he was going to be a grandfather for the first time.

"Yeah, okay…" your dad finally replied. "I'm glad to know that my eldest daughter hasn't been taking unnecessary risks and that, furthermore, you've been celebrating Seb's victories properly."

The mention of this made Sebastian wish he could disappear at that moment just like you.

"Michael, don't say that to them!" your mum exclaimed, hitting her husband's arm. "I still can't believe we're going to be grandparents. It's wonderful! Congratulations, guys!"

Once you exchanged hugs and congratulations, the quartet returned to the table to finish enjoying dinner. The truth was that your parents were concerned about your condition, but for different reasons: on one hand, Michael knew how stressful Formula 1 could be day in and day out, and he didn't want his eldest daughter to suffer accompanying Sebastian, so he would have to have a serious talk with you. Corinna, on the other hand, knew they still had to break the news to Gina and Mick, who would be aunt and uncle in about nine months. As for the Vettels, there was nothing to comment on or exceed: in a few months, the family would grow even more, and the excitement of having the little one in their arms was overwhelming them at that moment.

The former decided to stay silent for the moment, pondering when he could have a chance to talk to you alone. Corinna, however, decided to ask you about what how would you break the news to your siblings:

"Y/N, dear," she immediately captured your attention despite being deeply engrossed in a conversation with your father about Seb's performance that season. "Don’t you want to share the news with your siblings? I think they would like to know that you're pregnant, they would be quite happy..."

"Yes, of course..."

"For now, we would like to enjoy this stage of the pregnancy privately," Vettel interrupted you, "although that doesn't mean we won't tell them. For heaven's sake, Corinna, my siblings don't know anything yet either!"

The woman glanced at her husband, who shot her a look to calm down. Indeed, both families continued to celebrate the new life Seb and you had created and, in due time, would reveal to the rest of their loved ones and possibly the whole world.

Mick and Gina

You couldn't keep the secret any longer. It had only been a couple of days since your parents and in-laws found out you were going to be parents. The same went for Seb's siblings, whom you finally called on the phone because they couldn't come to Switzerland at the moment.

Now it was time for Gina and Mick to find out they were going to be aunt and uncle at fifteen and thirteen years old.

Summer vacation was coming to an end for both teenagers and the eldest Schumacher. The kids had to go back to school, while you would be traveling the world again with you father and you boyfriend in early September.

For that reason, and because you were really excited to see her siblings' reaction, you decided to tell them that afternoon they would go to the mall.

"Guys," you said as you ate your bowl of cereal, "we're going to the mall today. I want us to spend some time together and, well..." you dropped a hint, trying to be mysterious. "I have some news to share, actually."

Gina's eyes widened in surprise. Mick kept his gaze fixed on his buttered toast with jam, pretending not to hear although he was actually really excited.

"Of course, Y/N!" Gina exclaimed excitedly. "I can't wait to buy some new clothes, especially to hear what you have to tell us."

"Exactly that," replied the youngest brother, mouth full. "You're acting very suspiciously, as if you've killed someone. Have you killed someone?"

Gina flicked Mick on the head, who immediately protested, sparking an argument. You simply cleared away your breakfast dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, leaving the kitchen seconds later, not believing that those arguing over a trivial matter would later discover they were going to be uncles.

Once at the mall, the three of you strolled through the aisles, looking for stores of interest and, especially, trying to blend in with the crowd, surprisingly succeeding.

The truth was that days earlier, you and Sebastian had agreed that to break the news to the kids, they would invite them to dinner at their favorite restaurant. However, to avoid raising suspicion, you would say that Seb couldn't make it because he had scheduled a meeting with Red Bull to discuss a few strategy matters. This way, you thought, the kids would be even more surprised.

As the afternoon wore on, your nerves, along with bags of clothes for the kids, and a few indulgences for themselves, grew.

"Y/N, is Seb coming with us?" Mick asked, a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Oh, no, I forgot to tell you! Seb mentioned he had a Skype call or something with Horner and Red Bull about strategy, so he can't make it."

You hated lying to your siblings, especially about Vettel-related matters, particularly to the youngest. They had a very good relationship and sometimes seemed more like siblings than the three Schumacher kids together.

"I know you were excited to see him," you continued explaining, "but I'm sure in a couple of days, or even tomorrow, I can tell him to come over."

"Exactly, Mick," Gina chimed in, "let's enjoy an afternoon with siblings, there will be plenty of time for you to see your brother-in-law!"

After a while of strolling, you finally decided to take your siblings to the restaurant they held in such high regard. As soon as you entered, you spotted the Red Bull driver sitting at a table checking emails on his phone.

Sebastian looked up and found a preteen Mick Schumacher running towards him, receiving a hug the moment he reached him.

"What are you doing here, Seb?!" Mick exclaimed, drawing everyone's attention. "We thought you had a meeting with your team!"

Sebastian tousled the boy's hair and stood up to greet both Gina and you, who were giving him knowing glances at what was about to unfold.

"I guess these past few months I've become quite the expert in lies," you said. "And you're not here for just any reason."

Mick and Gina exchanged glances, not fully believing what their older sister was telling them.

"Indeed," Vettel continued, "before we order anything, we'd like to tell you that, around March next year, we'll be adding one more member to the family."

"You're going to be aunt and uncle, guys."

Both of them stood there speechless, trying to process what they had just heard.

"Is this for real, sister?!" Mick whispered cautiously, aware that you were public figures and attention would be on them at that moment. "We're going to have a nephew, Gina!" he turned to his younger sister, who was still in disbelief.

"This is incredible, guys!" Gina exclaimed. "I can't wait for March next year now... And I thought the best thing that could happen to me was going to see One Direction that month!"

You and Sebastian exchanged a knowing glance, realizing that the joy the younger ones were feeling at that moment was even greater than they had initially expected.

"We're so happy that you're part of this beautiful journey ahead," Seb explained, giving them both a hug. "I'm sure, and I know your sister and your parents are too, that you're going to be amazing aunt and uncle. The baby is so lucky to have a family like yours."

You wiped away tears. You hated getting emotional over the slightest thing, but at the same time, you were grateful to be surrounded by so much positivity and support from the early stages of her pregnancy.

"That's for sure, Seb," Mick replied jokingly. "But you have to understand that I'm going to be the funny uncle, and most importantly, his favorite."

The dinner continued with laughter, anecdotes from the teenagers that Seb and you had missed because of the Grand Prix races and, especially, future plans they would make when little Vettel-Schumacher decided to make his way into the world.

Mark Webber

After a month-long break, 2012 Formula 1 season was finally back in Belgium.

You, despite being about three, almost four, months pregnant, decided to continue accompanying you boyfriend for the remaining nine races.

Friday, before free practice sessions began, you were in Seb’s room at the Red Bull Racing hospitality. The German held an instant camera in his hands intending to take a few pictures of you, something that had become routine to document your pregnancy. You, reclined on the sofa in the space, simply caressed your increasingly prominent belly.

The flash of the camera snapped you out of your trance, immediately feeling embarrassed.

"Seb, I've told you a thousand times I don't like you taking pictures of me when I'm not ready," you commented, feeling somewhat uneasy.

Sebastian couldn't care less.

"You're perfect, Y/N Schumacher," Sebastian replied, taking another snapshot of you. "Come on, stand up for a moment and pose with our son for your future husband. You don't have to worry about looking good or not, you're doing enough work creating a life in your belly."

You agreed to your boyfriend's proposal, excited enough to hug your belly and shed a few tears.

Hormones were acting like crazy on you, and Sebastian Vettel might too if he kept being so good to you.

The blonde raised his camera again and once more took a picture of the scene in front of him, highlighting your smile above all.

As the photo was revealed and Sebastian, sitting on the floor, was admiring it, the door to the room opened, revealing a somewhat angry and surprised Mark Webber.

"Well, well…" the man exclaimed. "What do we have here?"

Sebastian and you exchanged looks, a mix of excitement and nervousness. No one beyond your families knew you were expecting a baby, and with the way the Australian was acting, you knew that would soon change.

"What you have here is the future best mother in the world, Webber," Sebastian explained, gesturing from top to bottom at you and then touching your belly once he stood up.

"That's incredible, guys! I'm really happy for you!" Mark approached you and hugged you, genuinely pleased with the news you had just revealed and especially by the trust you had in him to do so.

"Well, it seems Horner will be pleased when you tell him the news," Seb's teammate continued, "because I'm sure he'll want to sign the little one as soon as he's old enough."

"Of course, Mark," Sebastian replied. "Not every day you create offspring with both Schumacher and Vettel blood."

"The royalty of Formula 1, if I may say," Michael Schumacher interjected, entering the Red Bull garage despite not being part of the team. "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to see how my daughter and my grandchild are doing."

You asnwered with a small ironic laugh at her father's remark, who was mistaken at that moment to think that Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would be a boy.

Kimi Räikkönen

The penultimate race of the 2012 season finally arrived, and you and Sebastian had finally revealed to the world that you were going to be parents. Although there were mixed reactions and comments, the majority of people who discovered that the eldest daughter of Michael Schumacher and the two-time world champion were going to have a child were quite pleased.

Both of you were in the paddock, arriving a bit later than usual. 

"Vettel, hey," Kimi called out as soon as he saw you two. "I heard rumors that you have a new passenger in your very own car. Is that true?"

You burst into laughter at Räikkönen's irony, who maintained a cool demeanor.

"Yes, Kimi, it's true," Seb replied, still chuckling. "The baby is due in March, so just a few months to go."

You nodded in agreement with your boyfriend's statement.

"So, there will be a new fan running around the paddock soon..." Räikkönen commented. "Make sure he doesn't miss the races, Y/N."

"Of course, no need to worry about it..."

"But, hey," Kimi interrupted you, "don't let him stay up all night watching replays of my victories, okay? He's needs some rest too."

Sebastian was bewildered. However, you were laughing even harder at Kimi's antics.

"Don't worry, mate," Vettel replied, "I assure you I'll train her in such a way that she'll be taking you on track before she's even ten."

"Yeah, right, whatever you say" the Finn said ironically. "Just make sure that when she decides to enter the world, you invite me to her big welcome party."

You nodded, playing along with the Lotus driver.

"It's surreal that you've won another victory, Vettel," Kimi continued. "And remember: invite me to the party. I want to welcome the little one with alcohol, lots of alcohol."

Kimi lowered his head in farewell and continued on his way to his garage, letting you both get on with your day.

You and Sebastian knew Kimi well enough to understand that most of his comments were sarcastic, but within the sarcasm, there was genuine happiness for them.

Who would have thought that years later, Charlotte Vettel-Schumacher would become the apple of her godfather, Kimi Räikkönen's, eye, every time she visited the paddock with her mother.

[goblinontour]

Weekend Rockstars

alex finds himself in a new situation after a show on their first tour

warnings: smut, masturbation, glory hole, handjob, blowjob

word count: 2.8k

Berlin was cold. Cold, cold, cold. He’s been so fucking cold all day. The band had a show tonight, but they got there early to set up and everything. Alex felt bad for the few people that were lining up outside because he was still cold even inside the venue. He didn’t even want to think about going out. 

He didn’t know if it had to do with his nerves too or what, but he couldn’t stop shivering. It was so bad that their manager asked him if he was okay. Was he? Yeah…Yeah, he was. It was only their first gig ever in Germany. No big deal. 

Nope. Who was he kidding, he was freaking out. He always got nervous before shows but especially in different countries where he couldn’t even understand what people were saying. He did pick up a bit of German from his mum, but it proved to be completely useless. He still didn’t understand shit.

“Mate, you alright?” Matt asked, concern lacing his voice as he looked for his drumsticks. 

“Yeah, just freezing my arse off.” Alex replied, trying to laugh it off, but it came out shaky.

“He'll be fine once we get up there." Jamie chimed in, adjusting his guitar strap. "You know he always gets like this before a big show.”

Nick walked over, offering him a bottle of beer. “Drink this. It'll warm you up. And stop worrying, the crowd’s here to see us.” 

Alex took the drink, grateful for the gesture, but it did little to calm his nerves. He glanced out from the wings, the crowd already buzzing with anticipation. So many people. He still hadn’t gotten used to it.

The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. The stage lights flickered on, casting an eerie glow over the instruments. The noise from the crowd grew louder, crashing against the walls of the venue.

“Showtime, boys.” their manager called, giving them a thumbs-up.

As Alex stepped on stage, the cold seemed to dissipate, replaced by a different kind of feeling. It was as if a switch had been turned on in his body, making him sweat and feel like he was burning. The roar of the crowd hit him and he felt like he was drowning. God, stop it Alex, you’re so dramatic, he thought to himself. 

He grabbed the mic, looking out at the sea of faces. “Hello, Berlin!” he shouted, his voice surprisingly steady despite all his nervousness. The crowd erupted. 

The first chords of the song rang out, and the energy was electric. Alex could feel the connection between him and the audience, a pulsing thread between them. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand their language anymore. 

As they launched into the next song, Alex caught sight of a girl in the front row. She mouthed the words along with him. But this girl wasn’t just any fan. He’d seen her before, many times. She wasn’t even close to just a stranger in the crowd. She'd been following them around on tour for a few weeks now, appearing in the front row at almost every show. She seemed to like him, always making sure to catch his eye during the performances, and he liked her too. Maybe it was the allure of him being in a band for her, but he didn’t mind that as long as he knew he had someone he could have a little fun with after the shows. And fun she was.

Their ‘thing’ had started innocently enough, a few stolen glances during the first show she attended, a brief chat afterward. But it escalated. They’d hook up in the bathrooms of random bars they went to, or just backstage, anywhere really. He didn’t care. He was a rockstar! After tonight's show, he knew they’d find each other again. It was becoming a routine. The anticipation of the encounters they’d have added a new layer of excitement to each performance. 

Between songs, Alex found himself speaking to the crowd more than usual. He even made a few awkward attempts at German, which the audience thankfully seemed to appreciate. Each time he stumbled over a word, the crowd laughed and cheered, so he didn’t get that embarrassed about it. By the time they reached the encore, Alex was drenched in sweat, his earlier chill a distant memory. Long forgotten. 

As the cheers echoed in his ears, they took their bows, and Alex stepped off the stage, his heart still pounding. The rest of the band clapped him on the back, their smiles wide and genuine. 

“Told you it’d be alright.” Jamie said, grinning.

Alex laughed, a genuine, relieved laugh. “Yeah, you did.”

But the moment he was out of the spotlight, his thoughts shifted to her. Would she be waiting by the backstage door like she always did? Fuck, I need to fuck something. 

The answer came quickly. As he stepped into the dimly lit hallway backstage, he saw her, leaning casually against the wall, a sly smile on her lips. 

“Great show.” she said, her voice barely audible over the ringing in his ears.

“Thanks.” he replied, taking her hand and pulling her closer to smack his lips onto hers. 

They didn’t waste time. They could easily escape from the rest of the crew since they were all busy on that post-gig high. They found a secluded spot, a small storage room that offered just enough privacy. It was frantic. Urgent. Seizing every opportunity without a second thought.

Their mouths collided, tongues tangling as Alex’s hands roamed over her body. He grabbed her boobs, squeezing them through her shirt, his touch rough and impatient. Messy was the best way to describe it. He had a lot of energy and he liked to put it to good use. He didn’t need much time, he didn’t need it to last, he just wanted her. Now. 

He pressed her against the wall, his breath hot against her neck as he moved his lips down to her collarbone, nipping and sucking. She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping her hips as he ground against her, the friction so delicious. 

In one quick motion, he unbuttoned his jeans, the fabric sliding down just enough. He grabbed her hand, guiding it to his erection over his boxers, making her palm him. She squeezed gently, her touch making him groan with need.

“Fuck.” he muttered. 

But of course, one of the guys had to shout at him from outside, breaking the moment. “Alex, we gotta go!”

He swore under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. “Fuck.” he whispered, looking at her with frustration in his eyes. “You coming with us?”

She shook her head, a regretful smile playing on her lips. “I can’t tonight.”

“Oh come onnn.” he said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, hoping to change her mind.

She laughed softly, cupping his face in her hands. “I really can’t.”

“Fine.” he sighed, fixing his pants back up, the urgency of the moment dissipating. He leaned in for one last kiss, his lips lingering on hers. “Next time, then. You’re coming to the next show, right?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded. “Won’t miss it.”

With a final kiss, because he couldn’t get enough, he stepped out of the storage room, irritation still bubbling inside him. Only to see the culprit who had interrupted him by the door. Matt. Tapping his drumsticks against his thigh impatiently. Alex gave him a death stare, his frustration evident.

“Sorry, mate, but we really do have to go.” Matt said, looking somewhat apologetic but mostly amused.

Alex zipped up his jacket and adjusted it the best he could to cover up his hard-on, trying to make it at least a bit less obvious. He took a deep breath, willing his body to calm down as he followed Matt towards the exit.

The rest of the band was already gathered, the post-show rush of activity swirling around them. Alex joined them, trying to focus on the conversation they were having and not on the lingering heat left in his body. 

The venue was closing, and despite the decent crowd they’d gathered, they still had to follow the rules. They packed up their gear and made their way to a nearby bar, the cold Berlin night pushing them inside where the warmth and drinks awaited.

Inside, they ordered rounds, and Alex drank until the edges of his mind blurred and the chill in his bones was replaced by a comfortable fuzziness. 

Jamie returned from his trip to the bathrooms, a mischievous glint in his eye. He nudged Alex out of nowhere, causing him to nearly spill his drink.

“Al, you have to go in there.” he said, quite insistently. 

“Why?” Alex asked, confused and still a bit irritated.

“Just go, please.”

Alex was drunk enough to not think about it more. He shrugged, set down his drink, and made his way to the bathrooms, unaware of Jamie’s barely concealed laughter behind him  as he rejoined the others.

Inside, he decided he might as well pee since he was there. He stumbled into a stall, fumbling with the latch. As he relieved himself, he realised he was still a bit hard from earlier, the alcohol breaking all his inhibitions.

Without much thought, he started touching himself, slowly wrapping his hand around his dick and gliding it up and down. The sensations were heightened by his inebriation, and he found himself getting lost in the moment. He didn’t even realise he was making noise, his low groans echoing off the tile walls, unsuspected. 

Then, out of nowhere, he saw a hand pop out from a hole in the side of the stall. He froze, his breath catching in his throat.

“What the fuck?” he thought out loud, panic rising in his chest.

“Do you need any help?” a voice asked. Her voice sounded nice, but it only made him freak out more. What. The. Fuck.

He tucked himself back into his jeans hastily, his heart pounding as he practically ran out of the stall. He burst out of the bathroom and made his way back to the guys, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and residual arousal.

“Why the fuck did you send me in there?!” he demanded, glaring at Jamie.

Jamie laughed, exchanging amused looks with the others. “So you could get your fix since we ruined your moment with that girl you keep bringing around. Go back in there, punk.”

“I’m not going in there.” Alex said, shaking his head.

“Why not?” Nick chimed in, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s weird!” Alex tried to defend himself, but his voice wavered, the memory of the hand and the voice still fresh in his mind. She really had a nice voice. 

“Well, we’re not gonna help you.” Jamie said, smirking.

“Yeah, Al, just go.” Matt added, grinning.

And then the others started chanting “Go. Go. Go.” in unison, their voices growing louder and more insistent.

“Shut up.” Alex said, but they wouldn’t. They continued, their voices echoing in his head, the alcohol making it harder to ignore.

Finally, with a frustrated growl, he took himself out of the situation and stormed back to the bathroom. Whatever. He was too drunk to care anymore.

As he entered the bathroom, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He glanced at the stall where the hand had appeared, a mix of curiosity and nervousness filling him. With a resigned sigh, he approached it, his heart beating faster with each step.

Alex knocked on the side of the thin wall of the stall. His voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “You still there?”

He hesitated, afraid to look over and see. He’d heard about this stuff before, but he never thought he’d find himself doing it. Was he supposed to even talk, or...?

The silence stretched out, making his heart pound even louder in his ears. He didn’t get an answer, not a spoken one anyway. But then he saw that same hand peek through to his side of the stall.

Alex swallowed hard, his mind racing. He could feel the alcohol buzzing in his system, clouding his judgement and amplifying his curiosity. Tentatively, he reached out and touched the hand, his fingers brushing against the stranger’s skin. It felt surreal, like he was caught in a dream he couldn’t wake from. The hand didn’t pull away, but instead, her fingers curled slightly, as if inviting him to take hold.

He hesitated for a moment longer before gripping the hand gently. It squeezed back, and he felt a strange excitement wash over him. This was happening. Whatever this was.

With his other hand, he fumbled with his jeans, the fabric rustling in the quiet of the bathroom. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but the need for release, amplified by the alcohol and the earlier interruption, was too strong to ignore.

The hand on the other side moved, fingers tracing a path along his wrist, guiding him with an unspoken understanding. His breath hitched as he followed the lead, his body reacting instinctively.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out everything but the sensation. The hand moved rhythmically over his length. He could hear his own breathing, ragged and uneven, mingling with the soft sounds of the person’s movements on the other side. 

He didn’t think anymore. He positioned himself properly and guided his dick through the hole, immediately feeling the stranger’s hand wrap back around him, getting a better grip now. 

“Oh fuck.” He bit his lip to stop himself from making any more noise.

And then he felt the familiar wetness and that warm feeling. She took him in her mouth. And he almost crumbled. He didn’t even know why the fuck he felt so affected, but the whole situation fucked with his head. Not knowing who was on the other side. And not even caring. Just feeling the pleasure. Feeling everything he could want right now.

He pressed himself as close to the stall wall as possible, the rough surface rubbing against his skin as he moved his hips, unable to keep himself still. His belt buckle clanged against the partition with each thrust, the sound echoing in the small space. He was losing himself in the sensation, the pressure building rapidly inside him.

He stretched his arms above his head, his fingers barely reaching the top of the partition, but he just needed to hold onto something, anything. His hands gripped the edge tightly, knuckles turning white as he gave himself over to her rhythm. 

His hips bucked uncontrollably. He was completely at the mercy of the stranger on the other side, her mouth working him with a skill that left him breathless. This was probably the best blowjob he’d ever got. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps, his entire world narrowing down to the sensations, to the intoxicating heat enveloping him.

The orgasm hit him hard and fast, his body tensing as he let out a strangled groan. He felt himself release and how she was swallowing around him. It left him weak and trembling, slumped against the wall.

For a moment, he just stood there, trying to catch his breath. The reality of the situation started to sink in. He withdrew himself, quickly tucking his spent cock back into his jeans and fastening his belt. He wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling a sudden confusion envelop him. 

He could hear her moving on the other side of the stall, the rustling of clothes and the soft thud of footsteps on the tiled floor. Then the sink ran for a bit, the sound of water hitting porcelain loud in his ears. She was washing up, and he felt a strange pang of regret, thinking that maybe he should say something. But what was there to say? The water stopped, and the creak of the bathroom door opening and closing meant she was gone. 

Alex took another deep breath, trying to steady himself. He stumbled out of the stall, his legs feeling unsteady. He splashed some water on his face at the sink, the cold liquid shocking him back to a slightly clearer state of mind. He looked at himself in the mirror for a second. He needed to get out of there before he overthought everything.

a/n: i wrote this in third person, not with “you” cause i felt like it fit better. also i did little to no research regarding how glory holes actually work so i don’t care if it isn’t accurate. and idk why i chose to set it in berlin but they actuallt had their first show in germany there in november 2005 so it fits perfectly. title is from fake tales of san francisco and it’s quite funny how it’s followed up by “are in the toilets” 💀

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[somewhat-exhausted]

Hello there, 👋

I am Tamer Aldeeb, a dentist from Gaza.

We have suffered greatly from fear, displacement, and the destruction of our home and my clinic, and everything we literally own...

We want to save ourselves from what seems like an inevitable death.

I hope you can take a look at my campaign on the pinned post on my profile ,and help us by donating or sharing our campaign to reach the largest number of supporters.🌹🌹

Our campaign is verified by @90-ghost , @ibtisams , @el-shab-hussein , @nabulsi and @fairuzfan 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Thanks a lot in advance ❤️❤️❤️

This is important.

Hi y’all. I don’t frequently do anything that matters on here, but this is important.

We all need to support folks in Gaza as best we can. Israel’s genocide against the Palestinian people must end, and the destruction and bombings and displacement need to be stopped.

I implore you to read Tamer’s story and consider donating to his campaign to aid him and his family in their evacuation from Gaza, where their home has been destroyed.

I know that it’s easy as an individual (especially if you’re on practically the opposite side of the world, like I am) to feel useless and unable to help in this conflict at all, but that isn’t true. This is a way to make a difference in this war.

Even if you can’t donate, I would ask that you reblog this post to share it with as many folks as we can get it to.

I believe that we can save Tamer and his family. Tamer, if you happen to read this, please know that I am praying for you and that I hope you will be safe soon.

Sending so much love to all of you 🫶🫶

Keep on fighting in all the ways you can. Free Palestine 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

Here is a link to Tamer’s GoFundMe, and I recommend checking out the pinned post on his profile as well.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 1

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Word Count: 3,502

Warnings: Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A big thanks to @shellyshellshell for encouraging me to write this story!

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

*Syverson POV*

It’s certainly difficult to leave the cool air conditioning of the house to head to work when the weather forecast predicts another scorching Texas summer day where the humidity makes your clothes immediately stick to your skin. It’s nothing I’m not familiar with having grown up in Texas my whole life and then spending two tours in the desert before returning home. You’d think I would move somewhere cold, but the south is all I know. I certainly couldn’t leave Nana and Pawpaw either. After finishing my last tour, I came home and bought an empty house in disrepair and spent the better part of a year ripping it to studs and rebuilding. I was really struggling with returning to civvy life after spending the majority last ten years in the sand pit. Originally, I had just planned to fix up my house so that it was comfortable and hell, livable, until I discovered what I wanted to do outside of the army. Remodeling my house taught me that I really enjoyed working with my hands and building things. I guess you could say taking a broken, outdated home and making it beautiful and functional again really resonated with me on a deeper level. I was lucky to leave the army with only some mild PTSD and nightmares. Hell, I had all of my limbs and was alive which is more that I can say I deserve. Staying busy helped me cope so after working towards getting my contractor’s license, I decided to start my own company, Syverson Contracting. It was still a small operation with only about seven employees including my cousin Alex, but we got by just fine.

After getting ready for the day and sipping on my cup of coffee on the porch with my German Shepard, Aika, I put my boots on and headed to the truck for the first day on a new worksite. Like usual, I called Nana on the way to work to check in. My grandparents lived about fifteen minutes away from me, but I still called to check on them every morning and make sure they’re doing alright. As I drive, Nana starts chattering all about how her friend’s granddaughter is single and I should be looking for a good woman to marry and settle down with. We’ve had this conversation umpteen times before but I can’t seem to get it through my stubborn grandmother’s head that it’s useless. I’ve been burned by too many women in the past as a young and naïve man and I just don’t want to bring someone into all of my problems. Yes, I go to therapy at the VA to help with my PTSD but it still doesn’t stop the sleepless nights and nightmares that immediately send me back to wartime in the desert. As much as I’ve always wanted a partner in life; a beautiful wife to come home to, a couple of kids and the proverbial picket fence, I just don’t see how it could be in the cards for me now. I’m too fucked up. Nana of course would never understand and I certainly don’t want to drag her into it so I just listen to her drone on and on about some chick named Susanne and then tell her that I’ve got to go.

After speaking with my team and giving instructions for the job, I went to Alex’s flatbed truck and we all started unloading the materials. The home we were working on was owned by a young couple expecting their first child. It was a simple job, replacing the flooring throughout the house, building a shed in the backyard for lawnmowers and other garden tools, and repairing some dry rotting siding near the fireplace. The great thing about my team is that I could get them started and didn’t have to micromanage them. After several hours in the walloping sun, we all broke for lunch. After cooling off and reenergizing at the local Wendy’s, we all headed back to the house to continue our work. Since I was used to being in these weather conditions, I decided to head out toward the edge of the woods in the backyard and start building the garden shed. When I went to lift up some of the plywood, I was beyond shocked to find a shaking and filthy little tan dog who appeared to be injured and terrified.

“Shit. Heya buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. It’s alright pal. Let me take a look atcha.”

As a true animal lover, I was immediately enraged. Someone had intentionally abused this poor defenseless animal and either abandoned it or it was able to limp off to the woods. The little male pup, couldn’t be older than a year was bleeding from four different wounds on the side of his sand colored body. The second I scooped him up, he was whining and cowering in fear.

“You’re alright little man. I’m gonna take care of ya. Let’s see if we can getcha to a vet.” I call Aika’s vet office and unfortunately there is no answer. Janet must still be taking her lunch break.

I see Alex walking outside to grab some of the flooring to bring inside and yell for him to come here.

“What’s up, Sy?”

“Just found this little guy beat to hell by the woods.”

“Jesus. What kind of bastards do that to an animal?” Alex ponders as he was looking at the injured and sick animal. 

“I’m gonna see if Dr. Robinson’s in. Hopefully I can get the little feller in today but I need you to run the site until I get back.”

“No problem, Sy. Didn’t she just have another kid? I’m not sure if she’ll be there but I know Jessica said something about them hiring a new vet so I’m sure someone will be around.”

The veterinarian’s office was only a fifteen-minute drive from the site so after giving the poor thing some water, I loaded him up and drove there.

On the ride over, he seemed to relax a bit and not shake as bad as he had been and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Oh Austin! How good to see you! Did your Aika have an appointment?”

“Hey Ms. Janet, is Dr. Robinson in? It’s not for Aika. I found this guy by the woods and he’s been hurt something awful.”

“Heavens to Betsy! Poor little angel! Elizabeth is out on maternity leave but we’ve hired a new vet. You'll like her. Let me check with her and see if she can work you in.”

“Yes ma’am.”

A few moments later, Janet scurries back and directs me to an exam room with the little guy. I guess I could have just dropped him off and went back to work but my heart just couldn’t stand it. Hell, I fought to bring back Aika from Afghanistan because of how quickly I fell in love with her and she’s been the best dog ever. I can’t imagine leaving this little guy to potentially die from his injuries without a friendly face nearby.

*Knock Knock!*

The door opens and my heart stops at the same time. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen enters while carrying a clipboard and a stethoscope. She’s a petite little thing only reaching to my shoulders with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and crystal blue eyes that feel like they see straight to my soul.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Emma Miller. I hear you found this little guy in the woods?”

“Uh, yes ma’am. Hello there, I’m Austin Syverson. Yeah, I uh, I found him and he looks like he’s been abused.”

She smiles brightly and shakes my hand when I introduce myself and the moment I touch her soft skin, I can hardly think straight. Why the hell do I feel so jittery? It’s just a beautiful woman Sy. Get ahold of yourself. I tell her exactly what I found and she quickly starts examining him while speaking to him in a sweet voice.

“Hi sweet boy. You poor thing! I’m so sorry someone has been treating you so horribly. We’re going to take care of you, yes we are. You’re going to be good as new! I’m going to give you some fluids because you’re dehydrated little guy. Once we get some fluids in you, I’ll try giving you some food. How about that little man?”

I can’t help but smile as she baby talks to him while inserting an IV in his tiny arm and starting him on fluids. She examines the wounds more carefully before retrieving a pair of things that look like tweezers.

“If I had to guess, I would say this guy is about 10-12 months old. I suspect these wounds on his side are from a BB gun. Would you mind holding his head? I’m going to give him some pain relief in his IV to help him relax and then try and clean the area and see if I can remove them. We’re a bit short staffed at the moment with Dr. Robinson out and two of our techs calling in sick so I’ll need your help if that’s okay?”

“Fucking BB guns.” I murmur under my breath. Damn some people are just the worst.

“I’m happy to help.” I tell her quickly and take up residence next to the puppy’s head to hold him still.

“Thank you.” She replies quietly while concentrating on rubbing some brown cleaner across each wound.

I can’t help but watch her as she focuses on removing all four bb’s and placing them into a metal bowl. She’s so effortlessly beautiful and incredibly adorable as she works on the dog who seems to be feeling so much better with the medication and fluids that he has received. She sews up each wound quickly and efficiently. The pup seems to be almost as captivated by her as I am. When she’s done, he even attempts to wag his tail for her. Dr. Miller explains that he will need a flea and tick bath before she can dress the wounds because he has several fleas on him and she doesn’t want them getting into the incisions.

“Mr. Syverson, I hate to keep you from your day. Would you want to just come back for him in a little while? I have to do an exam on a yorkie with diabetes but then I’ll bathe him on my break and get his wounds dressed.”

“Sugar?” I ask.

“I’m sorry, pardon?” She responds a bit flustered.

I smirk as I see the blush tinting her cheeks. “The yorkie. Is it named Sugar?”

“Oh! Yes! Someone you know?”

“My grandma’s neighbor, Mrs. Clayton, has a yappy little yorkie named Sugar and I believe I overheard that it has diabetes.”

“Yes, well that would be her.” She smirks back.

“I don’t mind waiting with the little guy. Is it alright if I stay and help you bathe him? Since your short staffed and all?” I ask with my most charming smile.

Her beaming grin tells me all I need to know. “Sure, Mr. Syverson. Can you give me about twenty minutes?”

“Only if you’ll call me Austin or Sy. Mr. Syverson is my pawpaw.” I say with a grin.

“Alright Austin. I’m going to leave you with some wet food on the table for this little fellow, but can I trust you to only give him small amounts slowly? We don’t know when his last meal was so we don’t want to overwhelm his belly.”

“Yes ma’am.” I mock salute at her with two fingers and she giggles when she leaves the exam room. I swear the moment she did I was a goner. I need to find a way to hear that giggle more.

“Well little guy, it looks as though we are helping each other out, huh? You ain’t the only one broken and battered.” I say as I give the dog a small plastic spoonful of wet dog food that he almost swallows hole.

“What should I call you?” I hypothesize aloud while the pup continues eating sloppily from the spoon I’m holding.

“Since Dr. Miller here patched you up, how about Miller? We can call you Mills for short. What do you think about that? I like it.”

Emma finally returns to the exam room and is happy to see that the Mills has eaten the food I gave him and kept it all down. Due to the food, medications, and fluids he received you can already tell a slight difference in his demeanor.

“Let’s get you all cleaned up, shall we?” She says while carefully picking him up and carrying him to the back of the building before pausing. “You coming, Austin?” She asks.

God, I hope I will be soon. I think before I rush over to open the exam door for her and follow her to the back.

“You know, I’m breaking rules by letting you back here so don’t make me regret it.” She says to me teasingly as she carefully sets Mills into a large stainless-steel sink and begins to bathe him with medicated shampoo.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Dr. Miller.”

“No, if I have to call you Austin, you have to call me Emma. It’s only fair.”

“Well, Emma is a beautiful name so that will be easy. If you don’t mind my asking, where are you from? We haven’t had a new vet in town since Dr. Robinson came and that was probably ten years ago.” I watch as Emma carefully removes three ticks from his fur and want to outwardly cringe. Ticks are the devil’s bug.

“I’m from Alabama. I’ve only been in Texas for about a month but just started working in the office this last week.” She tells me as she very carefully continues to clean Mills.

“What brought you all the way out here? Did your husband get transferred out here or something?”

She side eyes my question with a smirk. “Nope, just the job. No husband or kids. No boyfriend either in case that was your next question.” She remarks sarcastically.

My stomach flips with excitement even though she caught on to what I was really fishing for.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you’re here. For Mills’ health needs of course.” I add quickly while gesturing to the pup.

“Mills?”

“Yup. Short for Miller, after the doctor who’s taking care of him.”

Her cheeks blush bright red as she runs a flea comb gently through his fur. “Well aren’t you just the charmer. I’m surprised Janet didn’t warn me about you. She’s been clueing me in on pretty much the entire town.”

“Ah, good ole’ Janet. She knows there’s no need to warn you about me. She’s known me since I was in diapers so that should tell you enough about my character if she didn’t warn you off.”

“That’s good to know. So, are you planning on keeping little Mills? Or are you wanting us to adopt him out once he’s all healed?”

“Oh, I plan on keeping him if that’s alright. As long as my girl, Aika, is okay with it I’ll keep him. Can’t imagine sending him off to a stranger after what he’s already been through.”

“Well, if your girlfriend isn’t on board with keeping him just let us know and we can see about arranging a foster for him until he’s able to be put up for adoption.” She says while stepping a little further away from me.

Girlfriend? Oh dumbass, you made her think Aika is your girlfriend.

“Aika’s my German Shepard. I don’t have a wife, kids, or a girlfriend either.” I said poking fun at her sarcastic comment from earlier.

Emma grins but just continues to rinse Mills off. She notices that one of his paws looks a bit swollen but she can’t find any cuts or wounds so she thinks it may just be bruised from trying to run from his abuser.

Once we get him dried off, I hold his head again for her to clean and dress the wounds on his side and I’m dreading leaving.

“So, I’ll need to see little Mills in 3 days to check his wounds and remove the stitches. I need you to clean and redress the wounds one time a day like I’ve shown you. I’ve got his medication and antibiotics here and a couple of cans of that wet food that you fed him earlier. I recommend continuing to feed it to him slowly so that his tummy doesn’t get upset. Nobody likes waking up to a dog throwing up or having diarrhea in the house. If he does okay with that food we can discuss increasing his food intake at the next appointment. Do you have any questions, Austin?”

“Just one. Can I get your number, Emma? You know, in case I have questions about your prodigy, Little Mills, here.” I add with a smirk.

“I’m sure you have the number for the vet’s office.” She smirks.

“That I do, but I’d like yours as well, please.” I ask with my most convincing smile.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t advertise it. The last thing I need is people like Mrs. Clayton calling me after hours.” She concedes with a giggle and I can’t help my boisterous laughter at the last part.

“Nobody wants someone like Mrs. Clayton calling them all the time. That woman would talk to a wall just to hear her own voice.” I hand her my phone and she quickly types her number and I save it under “Mills’ Future Mama” and smirk to myself.

I pay and make the next appointment for Mills and then head to the local pet store for a collar, leash, dog bed, and more dog food. Luckily, Mills sleeps on the ride home and I can’t decide if he’s finally realized I’m not going to hurt him or if he’s still drowsy from the effects of the meds he received. I head home and send Alex an update that I’ll be back at the site tomorrow.

When I get home, I bring everything inside before carrying Mills over to Aika and carefully introducing him. After the initial excitement wears off, Aika heads outside to the backyard and I’m relieved that she seems to accept him. She’s always been such a good dog so hopefully I can rely on her to show our little rookie around and teach him our routines.

I go about showering and eating dinner, but I can’t seem to get my mind off Emma. I obviously want to play it cool but she has infiltrated my mind to the point where I just can’t think of anything else. I know this is a bad idea but I can't stop myself. I decide to take a picture of Mills in his little bed and text it to her.

Sy: <attached image>

Mills’ Future Mama: I’m glad to see my namesake is adjusting to his new life. I take it that his sibling accepts him?

Mills’ Future Mama: Also, you’re lucky I opened that picture text. Typically receiving a picture from an unknown number is never a good thing 😖

Sy: Sounds like your mind is in the gutter or you have some seriously unhinged acquaintances, darlin. Aika has accepted him into the pack without hesitation.

Mills’ Future Mama: More like, men are nasty and will take any opportunity to send an unsolicited dick pic to even the most unwilling recipients. Glad you found the little guy. He seems right at home.

Sy: He is. You should come visit him sometime.

Mills’ Future Mama: Why would I do that when he’ll be in my office in three days?

Sy: Maybe to see his owner?

Mills’ Future Mama: I’d imagine his daddy will be the one bringing him back to my office though?

Sy: Alright then, how about I make you some dinner at my place? Say tomorrow at 5pm?

Mills’ Future Mama: Make it 5:30 and I’ll be there. Just know I’ll be sending your information to my best friend in case you try and murder me.

Sy: What type of people were you surrounded by in Alabama? 🤨

Mills’ Future Mama: I was actually in a super safe town. Just watch too many crime shows to make careless mistakes.

Sy: Smart lady. You can tell whoever you want, darlin’. I’ve got nothing to hide and I appreciate a woman who has some self-preservation skills.

Mills’ Future Mama: Trust me, I’m very skilled at many things. 😜

Sy: Damn woman, I’m trying my best to be a gentleman here. It’s not fair to tease me.

Mills’ Future Mama: Not teasing. Just stating facts. 🙃

Sy: Tomorrow can’t get here soon enough. Here’s my address. Any food allergies?

Mills’ Future Mama: Nope! I’ll bring dessert. I’m interested to test your cooking prowess.

Sy: You’re killing me.

Mills’ Future Mama: See you tomorrow!

Part 2

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I have a plan...

John Egan X Female! Reader

Summary: Y/n plans to escape the camp, but she's not running away alone...

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ killing people/ burning a building/ Y/n being a dystopian main character/ use of Y/n/ kissing/ not following the story line/

Word count: 1.9k

She was a shy person, never talked back, took the punch the Germans gave her, she was the perfect person. Y/n was at the wrong place at the wrong time, one day, she was coming back from the market, but German soldiers stopped her to check her papers, but she forgot them at home. She was accused of being a spy and was thrown into a POW camp. Bucky didn’t understand her, why she wasn’t fighting, why she didn’t say that she wasn’t a spy. If he was in her place, he would’ve tried to run away.

Buck was ordering the soldiers to pull the stump, Y/n was sitting beside them, on the stairs, reading a book. ‘’Y/n, why don’t you come and help’’ one of them spat. She looked at him, said nothing and continued to read her book. ‘’Whatever, you’re useless anyway’’ he mumbled. ‘’Shut up, Crank’’ Buck defended the woman. She was in her own world, Y/n didn’t even hear Buck. As she read the pages of her book, an idea came to her mind, she didn’t want to run away alone, if she escaped, she was bringing everyone with her. She was reading For Whom the Bells Tolls from Ernest Hemingway, the story inspired her to riot against her captors, she was going to burn this place to the ground.

‘’Y/n, you’re more silent than usual, what’s on your mind?’’ Bucky asked the woman, who was looking outside. She looked at him, smiled and blinked. ‘’Do any of you have a lighter?’’ she asks, with a raspy voice. ‘’Why do you need a lighter?’’ Murph asked her. ‘’Stuff’’ she simply replied. ‘’Stuff, what stuff?’’ Bucky asked as he handed her his lighter. ‘’Just be ready, soon, we’ll run away.’’ she announces. Crank starts to laugh, not believing what he was hearing. ‘’Yeah right, and I’m the Queen Elizabeth’’ he laughed. But Y/n wasn’t laughing. ‘’Thank you for the lighter, Bucky’’ she thanked him. After eating, she quickly cleaned the knife before beginning to chop her hair off. She had long hair, something the Germans could identify her with, now, she cut them off, barely recognizable. ‘’Why did you cut your hair off?’’ Buck asked. ‘’I was tired of having them this long’’ she partially lied. It was true, but it was so that the soldiers didn’t recognize her.

‘’What are you planning, Y/n?’’ Bucky whispered. She turned her head to look at the men. Everyone else was asleep, she was awake to think about every last detail of her plan. ‘’Can I trust you?’’ she whispered back. Bucky nodded, getting closer to the woman. ‘’I don’t know when, but I’ll do something that is going to give everyone a chance to escape’’ she said, not wanting to give away her hole plan. Bucky was confused, she seemed truthful, but she was to shy to do anything. ‘’Can I help?’’ he asked. Y/n looks at him, she thought he was going to laugh. ‘’Can you find me flammable liquids, like alcohol or gasoline?’’ she asks. ‘’Why? Planning on making a bonfire?’’ he chuckles. ‘’Kind of, and can you show me how to use a gun?’’ she asked, seriously. ‘’Y/n, what the hell are you planning?’’ he asked, concerned. ‘’You’re going to help me or not?’’ she asked, kind of annoyed that he was asking 300 questions. ‘’Yes, but – ‘’ they got cut off by another voice. ‘’I’m helping too, what’s the plan?’’ Buck asked as he got down from his bunk. ‘’Is there another person that is awake?’’ Y/n asked, no one else responded. ‘’I can’t tell you everything, just can you find something to start a fire and I need to know how to use a gun’’ she repeats.

It has been 2 weeks since they had their talk, Bucky found some alcohol that could be used to start a fire, and Buck showed her how to use a gun. She was ready, so was her plan. Tonight was the night, she warned Buck and Bucky to be ready to run, but the two of them were really confused. It was about 0200 in the night when the boys heard commotions outside.

Y/n entered the supply building, with the alcohol bottle tucked in her vest. She was dressed in black; she took Bucky’s cloths to do so. She saw a pistol on a wooden crate, she took it as she began to pour alcohol all over the room. She heard German soldiers coming, so she hid behind something, with a mirror she found, she looked at them, they weren’t armed, and they were drunk. She had to think, because if she shot them, it would be too loud, and her plan could fail. It was dark in here, there was no lights, so she took a wooden weapon she crafted and planted it in one of the men’s throats, before the other could realize it, Y/n had already killed him. She was officially a killer, but she killed for justice, she had enough. She took the men’s guns and put them in her pocket, after all she could use them. She continued to put the flammable liquid all over the floor. ‘’Oi! What are you doing?’’ one soldier yelled. Shit she’d been caught, luckily, he was alone. She turned around, pointing the gun at him. ‘’Hands in the air’’ she ordered. The men looked afraid, but as he put his hand in the air, he began to yell and ask for help.

The sound of a gun shot echoed around camp; Buck looked at Bucky. ‘’What the hell did she do?’’ they saw soldiers running to the supply building, so they got outside and ran too. They wanted to see what was going on.

She walked outside, guns in her pocket as she looked at the trail of alcohol on the floor, Germans were running towards her, so she lit the lighter and dropped it on the ground. The building automatically caught on fire and a siren was ringing in the camp. She ran towards the fence she told the guys to meet her. They waited for her at the gate, Bucky saw her running towards them. She had blood on her, she was panting, but she had a knife in her hands. ‘’Move’’ she ordered as she cut open the fence.

Run, that’s what her brain was telling her to do. Her, Buck, Bucky, Murph, Crank, Alexender and Richard were running in the filed next to the camp. Y/n was smiling and laughing, even if it was for a minute; she was free. German soldiers were running after her, dogs too. ‘’We’re going to reach a bridge, trust me and jump in the water’’ she panted. ‘’You’re crazy!’’ Alexender said. ‘’Hey, I got you out! Do as I say!’’ she mentally rolled her eyes as they reached the bridge. ‘’C’mon don’t be scared’’ she breathed out. But they all hesitated, that gave time for the Germans to catch up a little bit. They were shooting at them. ‘’You want to get shot or what?’’ she asked them. She didn’t wait for their answers as she jumped in the water. The water was deep enough so she wouldn’t hurt herself. When the guys saw that she jumped, they followed her. ‘’Stick to the side and don’t move’’ she whispered to them. They all got closer to the side of the river, they wanted to wait for the German to see that they drowned.

The sun was rising as they continued to walk in the forest, they didn’t know how far they were from the camp, but they’ve been walking all night. No one had said a thing since the river, only when Y/n asked who the better shooter was to give the 3 guns she grabbed from the supply room. That was the only time they’ve talked. ‘’Okay, we can take a break’’ she announced as she sat on a rock. They catch their breath, looking at each other, laughing in relief. ‘’What the hell did you do?’’ Murph chuckles, looking at the woman. ‘’I made the supply building blow up, killed 3 guys and escaped’’ she sighed, smiling. ‘’So, that was the gun shots we heard?’’ Richard asked. Y/n nodded, wiping off the sweat on her forehead. ‘’I only shot one, the two other I stabbed them with the wood weapon I crafted’’ she explains. ‘’Thank you, Y/n, I can’t say how much I want to kiss you for getting us out’’ Bucky chuckles. They all start to laugh. ‘’Not so useless after all, right Crank?’’ she teased. ‘’Useful as fuck’’ he exhaled, smiling. ‘’C’mon, we have to walk more, we’re going to unoccupied Slovakia, or someplace where we can find American soldiers’’ she explains. ‘’You thought about everything, didn’t you?’’ Bucky smirked. ‘’Told you I had a plan’’ she smiled.

They.ve been walking for 4 days, taking little breaks to rest, hunting animals to eat, but the main goal was reaching American soldiers. As they reached a small village, they heard soldiers talk, they stopped to talk and began to listen to the voice. They caught small sentence, but it was in English. ‘’We did it’’ Buck smiled. They got out, with their hands in the air, to show that they weren’t a threat. ‘’We’re Americans!’’ Buck announced. The soldiers turned around and looked at the group. ‘’Keep your hands in the air!’’ one of them ordered. ‘’Tom, calm down, they look like POW’’ one of his colleagues announced. ‘’Where did you guys come from?’’ Tom asked. ‘’Stalag Luft 3, Poland’’ Y/n explains. ‘’What?’’ the Americans soldiers couldn’t believe it, they traveled that far, it was impressive. ‘’You guys are safe now.’’

Y/n head was leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, they were in the plane ride back to his base. ‘’Where are you going to go?’’ Bucky asked the woman. ‘’I don’t know, I can’t go back home, anyway, there’s nothing left for me there. I’ve been gone for 6 months; my village probably thinks I’m dead’’ she vented. ‘’They’re not going to let me fly again, why don’t you come live with me on the base?’’ he suggested. Y/n lifts her head up and looks at the men. ‘’Is this a twisted way of asking me out?’’ she smiled. Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Y/n giggled before getting closer to him. ‘’I’ll gladly come and live with you’’ she said, against his lips. He was flustered and red like a tomato. His instincts kicked in as he closed the gap between them and kissed her. She immediately kissed him back as she put a hand behind his neck. ‘’Argh! Get a room!’’ Murph gaged in disgust. Y/n smiled as she pulled away from the kiss. ‘’We will’’ Bucky whispered, only for Y/n to hear. The woman blushed and giggled. They escaped the camp, without any important injuries and now they were tied together for life. Even if they didn’t tell her, each man was grateful for her, she saved their lives. Bucky was going to repay her by spending the rest of his life with her, because he was in love with her. And she was in love with him…

[pajarinwrites]

LOLLAPALOOZA | Boo Seungkwan x Reader

➳ gn!reader x seungkwan

➳ wc: 2.4k

➳ TAGS: angst? no au!au?? seungkwan gets lost in berlin and reader helps him hahaha

➳ WARNINGS: sadness? unrequited attration/infatuation? german language, german people (jk love y'all), kinda insta-lovey

➳ AN: obviously i had to write something about lolla bc the boys ate that. i love them so much. this is my gift for every carat that didn't get to go (i'll probably continue this bc i did not enjoy that mildly sad ending) also it was my anniversary this week, so you get two stories within the same week (unheard of from me fr)

side note: no shade to the German people. Also, if I butchered Berlinese, please ignore it, thx. also also i don't know where the olympia stadium player entrance is and i was too lazy to look it up. different side note: if you were one of the carats that went to LOLLA in cheers outfits (you know the ones: purple, blue, orange, hats with jewels) and you happened to be stumbling across this, just know i am actually in fact in love with you and you are contractually obliged to marry me, you guys all slayed <3

masterlist

He stared down at his phone, helplessly. But the stupid thing remained stubbornly black. The sun was beating down onto his neck, bared, unlike his face that was protected by his cap, and he rubbed at it in frustration. It must have been getting close to noon, way past the time he had promised to be back. It also meant the sun was nearly above him. Without any shadow to seek refuge in, Seungkwan continued down the street. He had been avoiding getting a new phone for ages, and now it had finally caught up with him.

“Ah fuck,” he cursed under his breath, shoving the hot, useless brick back into his pocket. The pavement was flickering with heat as he looked down the street. He’d have to ask someone for help. Now, if only someone would brave the sun and temperature outside. What kind of city was this empty at noon, anyway? Granted, he wasn’t exactly in the middle of the city, but still.

He made it to the corner before finally spotting the long-awaited sign of actual life. There was a store across the street, a bright red sign reading ‘kiosk’.

He strutted in, surreptitiously wiping his hands on his shirt and trying not get too stressed out by the fact he’d have to communicate his troubles in English now.

“Hi, hello…” he started, waving softly at the clerk behind the counter. He was a middle-aged man, tan and bearded, gruff-looking, like so many of the people Seungkwan had encountered here.

“Uhm, I am… need help. I need help.” he stammered, searching the man’s face for any sort of emotion. The only reply was a grunt. He tried again, “I am… lost way. I am looking… uhm… looking for Olympia Stad—?”

The man started waving his hands in front of his face.

“Keen Englisch!”

Seungkwan tried again, just slower this time but that seemed to agitate the man even more.

“Ick sech ick kann keen Englisch. Icke versteh’ nüscht!“

He seemed angry, so Seungkwan bowed and hurried out of the store. Who knew Germans could be this scary. This also left him at square one. Or, possibly, worse. He had no idea where he had gotten turned around and there wasn’t another store in sight. With no one around the hour approaching early afternoon, he was busy trying to keep the panic at bay.

A sudden voice startled him out of his spiralling thoughts.

“Alles in Ordnung? Kann ich dir helfen?”

He spun around, and met with wide eyes, fluffy hair, and a worried expression. A person, probably about his age, was standing in front of him. Kind, was his first thought, the way you were clutching a hand-painted tote bag to your side, and looking honestly concerned for him, gave him hope.

“Ah, yes, hello!” No matter his anxiety about English, Seungkwan wasn’t going to let this golden opportunity pass.

“You speak English?”

You inclined your head, “Yeah, a little. Are you lost?”

He nodded fervently but before he could attempt to explain any further, the person in front of him suddenly slipped into Korean.

“혹시 한국인 이세요?“ Are you Korean?

“Oh!” He exclaimed surprised and so relieved that he felt close to tears.

“Yes, yes! How did you know?” He replied.

You laughed and Seungkwan, oddly, felt all his former worry drain away, “Just a lucky guess. Your style and hair, maybe.”

Seungkwan clasped his hands, starting into a relieved tirade, “Wow, I’m so glad that I happened to run into you on the street like this, you have no—“

“Uhm,” you interrupted him, raising a hand, “…slowly, please?”

Seungkwan took a few seconds to realise that his excited outburst had probably been too much, linguistically.

“Oh! Yes, of course. Just… I’m happy I met you. I need to go to the Olympia Stadium but I don’t know where it is.”

This time, your brows remained unfurrowed as you focused on Seungkwan’s speech, which he tried to keep as slow and clear as possible.

“It’s that way. Do you want to go together?”

He nodded with relief, falling into step beside you.

“Are you also on your way to the festival?” He inquired, but was met with the shake of the head.

“No, I just don’t know how to describe the way in Korean.”

Seungkwan laughed at your sheepish expression. “How do you know Korean?”

“An ex of mine was Korean.”

“Wow! You learned just for them?”

You nodded, laughing. “Yeah, I visited their family in Korea and I wanted to be able to communicate. Then I just kept studying on my own after we broke up.”

Seungkwan nodded, studying your side profile, somewhat severe, he thought.

“So how did you get lost?”

“I was taking a walk.”

“You don’t seem to have… your direction isn’t very good.”

“My sense of direction?”

“Yes!” You turned, mumbling the phrase under your breath repeatedly, and Seungkwan had trouble holding back a giggle. Apparently, that severe look disappeared entirely when you were excited about something. He giggled at your concentrated expression.

“Do you wanna write it down?”

“I’ll write it down later. So, are you going to the… concert?”

Seungkwan blinked, averting his face. He had forgotten, for a second, the fact that he was, technically speaking, world famous.

“Uhm, yeah… I’m going to the festival.” He said, hoping you would leave it at that but of course, no such luck.

“You came all the way here for Lollapalooza? Or do you live in Berlin?”

“We flew here.”

“Wow! Who do you want to see that much?”

“Sam Smith,” he said, both because he did want to see them and because it seemed like a safe lie.

“They don’t tour in Korea?”

“Uhm, we wanted to visit Europe anyway.”

“Ah! I see! Not only Berlin, then? Where else will you travel?”

If you realised his increasing discomfort, you didn’t let it show. Seungkwan didn’t enjoy lying, and the longer the conversation kept going, the surer he was that you must’ve figured something out. Or worse, recognised him right at the start.

“Are you going to the festival?” He asked in lieu of a reply. You looked taken aback for a second but seemed to shake the awkwardness off quickly.

“Nope, I’m not really a… festival person…”

“Ah…” he trailed off, unsure whether or not to pursue the subject. Eventually he settled on, “you don’t like that kind of music?”

“Pop? I don’t mind it.”

“Ah, and… K-Pop? You like it?” Seungkwan knew he should not breach the topic; he should ignore the possibility of you knowing of him. He should just pray that you would say ‘no, not really’ in reply. Technically, he was aware, that everything would be a lot easier and more genuine if you no knowledge of the genre. But he couldn’t help the small voice that was hoping for you to say you adored his music, his voice, his stage presence. He wasn’t sure why, all of a sudden, he craved it like this. Hence, his emotions remained equally confused when you replied, “I prefer older songs, from back when I first got into K-Pop. Like SHINee, 2PM, VIXX, Girl’s Generation, SES, you know? Do you like the group playing today?”

He didn’t dare look up. Your tone had been genuine. You didn’t seem to even know their name. He shrugged his shoulders in reply and tried not to let the speck of disappointment in his chest spread too far. Seungkwan didn’t even notice his lack of reply until he glanced over, seeing your wide eyes staring at him.

“Ah, err, yeah I like them,” he finally decided. Why lie about that?

“Anyone else you want to see? I guess a festival like this... I guess you want to…”

He looked over, letting you sort your thoughts patiently until you gave up with an embarrassed chuckle.

“It’s only worth it if you want to see several artists.” You finally said, switching into English. It took a few seconds for him to untangle the sentence but eventually he nodded, smiling. Unfortunately, his brain used that exact moment to blank on the rest of the people playing at Lollapalooza, and he ended up having to say, “Yeah, I really like Seventeen.”

“Seventeen, huh?” You whipped out your phone and typed away on it. He didn’t have time to worry what would happen if you started looking for photos online, before your phone started blaring Maestro.

“This is the first song on their Spotify page. Which one is your favourite?” You held out your phone as the both of you came to stop at a traffic light. He took it, gingerly, his fingertips grazing yours for a few seconds.

The first song that popped to the front of his brain was Ready to love, so he pressed play. The traffic light turned green and you took your phone back. As you listened intently, Seungkwan looked around, realising that the area started to look more familiar again. The streets also seemed less empty, which was at the same time reassuring and anxiety inducing.

He tugged at your bag to get your attention, “Do you know where the, uhm...” This was it. He should have just been honest from the beginning. There was no way he could get through the masses at the entrance unnoticed. He probably wouldn’t even make it five minutes. And there was no good lie for needing to find the back entrance. Other than…

“I’m part of the staff, so I have to get to the back entrance.”

You cocked your eyebrow before recognition crossed your face.

“Ah, you mean the player entrance? The one the… people who do sport usually use?”

“Yeah!”

You grinned in a way that he couldn’t quite read, “Sure, I’ll have to look that up, though.”

You pulled him over, away from what he had realised was a metro station or something to that effect. A steady drip of people had been exciting the station and turning towards the same direction, so Seungkwan abducted that you had very much picked up on the fact that he didn’t want to be spotted by the masses. The two of you leaned against the wall of a building opposite the street as you pulled up a browser on your phone and looked for the map of the Olympia Stadium. Seungkwan watched the people pass, a lot of them were clearly discernible as Carats, either by their outfits or accessories. He saw a few people with Cheers-inspired outfits, carat bongs, and a frankly abnormal amount of people in tiger print.

“Got it!” You announce after a second, showing the graphic to Seungkwan. “We can take the roundabout way, if you prefer. Just follow this street, then turn right, and enter through the western entrance. Should I take you?”

That was no question for Seungkwan, “Yes, please.”

To his relief, you didn’t hesitate, only nodding happily and taking off in the right direction. He fell back into step beside you, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

“I really liked that song,” you eventually stated. It took him a few seconds to realise that you were talking about his song.

“Yeah? Then you should listen to Rock with you and Hot. Maestro is the latest song, it’s also really good. Then there’s God of Music and…” he trailed off at the sight of your amused expression.

“I’ve got a lot of listening to do, it seems.”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze. Seungkwan was at a loss for words, feeling the end of your companionship draw closer with every step. As short as the time had been, he had enjoyed talking to you and hearing your laugh. Ridiculous, he thought, as he had to concede the feeling in his chest.

The two of you made it to the staff entrance, where security awaited. His hand shot out, stopping you a few metres away from them. Their eyes turned towards you, but they remained at their posts.

“Thank you so much,” Seungkwan reiterated, holding onto your arm feverishly. There was this wild thought bouncing through his head that, if he let go now, you’d vanish from his life and never return.

“It’s no problem, really. I had nowhere else to be. I’m happy I could help.”

You voice was earnest and your eyes creased at the corners with happiness. Seungkwan wanted, so badly, to ask for your contact. But there was the issue of communication, and the – much larger – problem of his fame. He had been ‘advised’ not to share any personal contact information with anyone, and he couldn’t very well give you his public Instagram. Not least because that would mean this little pocket of normality would come to an indisputable and abrupt end. You seemed to read his inner conflict on his face because your expression softened. Carefully, you extricated your arm from his grip.

“It was nice meeting you…”

“Seungkwan.”

“Seungkwan,” you repeated, and the care you took in pronouncing it, the way your lips fit themselves around the shape of his name, made his heart seize. “I’m [name]. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

You were smiling so softly, almost hopeful, and Seungkwan didn’t have the guts to say no. “That’d be nice,” he replied instead.

“In German we have this saying: you always meet twice in life.”

Seungkwan nodded, somewhere between regretful and smitten. He steeled himself for the final goodbye when you held out your phone.

“Could you write down those songs for me? The ones you said earlier?”

Lucky, he thought, heaving a relieved sigh. He wouldn’t have had the courage to reject any possible advances of yours. Although, maybe that meant you weren’t interested at all? Maybe you didn’t find him as cute, and interesting, and kind as he did you. Or maybe you were more realistic in withholding judgment of a person you had known a grand total of fifteen minutes. He took your phone, writing a small list in your notes app before locking it and handing it back to you. You took it without looking at it, your eyes never leaving his. It seemed almost like you were searching for something in them. When you finally looked away, Seungkwan had no way of knowing whether you had found it.

“Tell the artists I wish them good luck for their show,” you said. There was a glint in your eyes that told him there was more weight to your words. For a second, he was sure you knew, maybe had known all along. But in the end, there was nothing he could do but watch you walk away, waving and smiling as he made his way backstage.