#but make sure to learn to makeup them over for photographs when you leave school and applicate for jobs

[irrfahrer]

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

Ziv has three helix-piercings in each ear in which she had put cooper rings. While she likes them aesthetically, it is also a clear sign for people to notice that she is definitive not a animal or a non-sentient pet and that she is person enough to actually invest in clearly noticeable (as on the highest part of her body that are her ears) Bodyart. On her left ear she wears an earring that had been given to her by Malkhaz as a token, after they said their goodbyes. Malkhaz kept the other earring. The earring is not especially expensive. The bohème piece with turquoise-stones and cooper metal might be more expensive than the cooper rings but is eventually nothing but fashion-jewelery. It is important who gave the earring to her.

When she was around 18 years old she had a Septum-piercing but after she had fled the crimelords rangs in which she had started to work in in exchange for a cortosis-vambrace, she took it out because after she had been held like a pet with no way to escape her situation, she did not liked the implications that the septumpiercing was similar to the nosering of cattle used to control them. In the Verse outside of Starwars, she also had the Septum-Piercing during her days studying to make her degree, but as soon as she was confronted with the fact that the convoy she had been given to had put her into debt to them for the costs of raising her, educating her and taking care of her medical needs, Ziv also took the septum out, feeling much too trapped mentally to show it in her face.

Ziv has a navelpiercing with cooper metal in form of a open flower and an blue stone in the center. This has no implications beside the fact that Ziv likes bodyart as a expression of her individuality and she likes jewelery. While the Piercings on her ears are constantly visible, her navelpiercing is usually under clothes for the simple reason that Ziv also uses clothes to express herself as an individual and usually those clothes cover up her stomach. However depending on the area she is in (as in, the temperature of that area), Zivs regulary walks around just with a utility-belt as clothes or topless, so the piercing is occasionally visible. Zivs definition of nakedness is because of the pelt different. She has three nipplepiercings along her mammary ridge of her left side, yet this has no artistic reason= when she had been fourteen and her group of AgriCorps Adepts happned to have a free evening in a starharbour they went through the nightlife. One of them as a mamalian humanoid got his two nipples pierced to proof how tough they are and Ziv, who was and still is extremly ambitious, combative and has a crude humor, used the chance to outdo said other Adept by getting studs along her left side in all three nipples (she has six, so she had free chosing. Beeing a mammal of a r-selected species with litters of up to six pups means one needs more than two.). She regretted it the next morning because it hurted for weeks and it will still hurt when she is hit against the mammary ridge ( especially on the left side due to the piercings, just because she has no visible fat-breasttissue outside of pregnancy does not mean that she will not keel over and cuss like a sailor when she is hit in the underlying mammary glands.Because she definitive will cuss like a sailor in that scenario.). Lovers who had asked for the reason for the piercings usually find Zivs reason hilarious and the Tynnan, still remembering the aches and the fact she had spend days with icepacks and also just icepieces under her tunic along her left side, is still sour about it. Having the young girl with melting icepacks under her tunic on one side might had caused a lot of mocking and jokes, resulting in Ziv beeing especially sour about the topic. That she does not care especially much about this part of bodyart on her body is shown in that the piercings she uses are nothing but simple cooper metalstuds to avoid dirt getting into the holes, in contrast to her polished earrings or navelpiercing. Its not like the studs are often visible at all, because of Zivs cloth and especially because of her pelt. Accordingly this detail about Ziv is only known by lovers who had had their hands on her and the Tynnan is a little hurt in her pride everytime she has to tell the story about her beeing a very dumb teenager and having piercings because she wanted to show off how hardcore she is to other very dumb teenagers.

Due to her pelt Ziv has no tattoos, however she usually lets the symbol for "healer" shaved in the outer layer of her fur on her chest when she is on Planets where the literacy is not so high and she still needs show to people that they can come to her for help and support in medical matters. The symbol usually needs around eight weeks to grow out completly and that is usually the signal for Ziv to change locations to another planet.

In her inquisitor AU, Ziv has none of the piercings beside the septumpiercing for obvious reasons.

[taehyungsgrowl]

uhhhh duncan in prison angst 👀👀

hey 👋🏽

i’m sorry this took me so long to answer! but i did make a lil moodboard to go w it :•)

also i've written quite a bit of angst lately so this will be a little angsty, but also smutty.

long distance(?) old school version of sexting, really

hope y'all enjoy!

(yes, i did just discover the indention feature!)

warnings: angst if you squint, h*rny love letters, prisoners cat calling y/n, aaaand smut

word count: 3.5 k (i really don't know how this was supposed to be less than 1,000)

i don't love how this came out but the idea kept floating around in my head so i wanted to share!

Y/N didn't think what started as a harmless little experiment would show her just how powerful words could be.

She scrolled through row after row of photos on the 'write a prisoner' website on a boring evening just for something to do. And now each time she got a letter in the mail from him, her stomach would flutter.

Her finger stopped mid scroll as she came across the photo of the scruffy faced man with cheekbones carved by the gods and eyes clearer than the skies.

Duncan Shepherd.

Her eyes scanned his profile, learning that he was being held in a minimum security prison out of D.C for numerous white collar crimes, including bribery and extortion. He listed his interests as fine arts and finer wines. He'd be out for parole soon but was looking for a way to pass his time in prison.

Out of the hundreds of prisoners Y/N had scrolled past, none of them held her interest like Duncan.

It started off innocently enough. She grabbed a piece of paper from her drawer and her favorite pen and wrote him a simple introduction letter. Even if Duncan didn't seem like a dangerous or violent criminal, she felt a sense of adrenaline in writing him.

Duncan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I like to imagine you get a lot of mail sent to you. I read on your profile that you're a fan of the arts, I'd love to know more about you and what kind of art you enjoy. Truth is, I don't even know why I'm doing this, but figured prison must be lonely so I hope this helps pass the time.

I included a print of one of my favorite pieces of art to hopefully liven up your cell.

All the best,

Y/N

Y/N knew it wasn't much to start off with, but she had no clue what to send to a strange she knew next to nothing about. She printed off a print of one of Monet's Water Lillies and sealed it in an envelope with her first letter.

She let herself forget she sent the letter, not making any expectations. For all she knew, Duncan Shepherd wouldn't even reply to her. It would be hard to imagine that other people browsing the site would ignore Duncan's profile. His beauty, even in a mugshot was beyond compare.

But before long, she'd gotten a beat up envelope in her mailbox from none other than Duncan Shepherd. Excitement buzzed around her as she took a seat in her bed and tore it open.

Y/N,

Thank you for the lovely picture. I've got it hanging above my bed as a reminder of things I loved about my freedom. My mother has an original piece hanging in my childhood home. I remember staring at it for hours, enthralled by the beauty of it.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the print in your envelope.

You know what they say about great minds.

Sometimes I wonder if my family would have let me pursue the arts if I'd be where I am today.

But I am eagerly counting the days until I am able to stroll through a museum in Paris again.

I am dying to know more about you. Tell me what makes up Y/N.

At the bottom of the sheet, was a rough sketch of a garden Duncan had drawn out for her.

The letters continued like that for a few weeks, slowly learning little bits and pieces of each other through writing.

She'd learned a lot about him very quickly. He told her about how troubles with his app and his powerful family led to him going to prison. And he also told her about all of the things he loved to do. Much to her surprise, she had more in common with him than she thought she would have,

Y/N,

We've been writing to each other for some time now and I must admit, curiosity is killing me. Not to mention, I do believe it's unfair that you've known what I look like from the start.

Tell me, did my photograph have anything to do with your interest in me?

I'd love to see you Y/N.

Y/N re-read the letter over and over trying to justify the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of Duncan thinking about her. Wondering what she looks like.

Duncan kept every letter Y/N had sent him using them as a way to fuel his daydreams of the woman behind the letters.

-

Y/N dug through her things in search of an old polaroid camera she had. - she thought Duncan would appreciate the use of instant film. Even if she felt a little silly doing so, she did her hair and makeup and searched her closet for the perfect outfit. In some way, this would be like Duncan's first impression of her. Little did she know, she'd already made a huge first impression with him.

She settled for a deep burgundy silk tank with a cowl neckline. She tossed her favorite leather jacket over it and put on her favorite dainty gold necklaces, letting them rest above her cleavage.

She made a little set up by the window in her room, where the light came in just right for a photo, and propped the camera up on a pile of books before setting it on an automatic timer to have it snap the photo of her.

She stared at the photo, smiling - happy with the results.

Y/N sat at her desk, writing him another letter and including her photo along with it.

-

Duncan opened his new letter from Y/N letting the photo fall from the envelope. He picked it up and stared in awe. He couldn't even focus on reading the words on the page as he stared at her picture.

In his mind, he expected her to be beautiful but was blown away by her photo.

He kept it safe, tucked under his pillow. He would take it out every night to look at it until he fell asleep dreaming of her.

Duncan saw her face... eyes clenched shut... pouty lips formed into a perfect "O" as her thighs surrounded his face.

He saw his hands traveling up her legs... kissing up her bare stomach... kissing her lips.

Everything felt so real.

Duncan woke up in a hot sweat from his over realistic dream. He could almost imagine her taste on his tongue.

The moon shone into his room giving him a sliver of silver light and he pulled her photo out, tracing his finger over her face.

He turned on the little lamp at his desk and sat down to write her back.

I can't tell you the time, but I believe it's past midnight and I can't sleep without dreaming of you.

Forgive me if I'm being forward, but I can't get you off my mind.

What I would give to be with you now...

Y/N, I want to feel your skin on mine. I imagine what it must feel like to have your lips pressed against my own.

I can't stop myself from thinking of all the ways I want to make you mine.

D.S.

--

I want to make you mine.

Y/N kept going back to those words.

If it weren't for the prison bars keeping Duncan away...

Her daydreams of spending the afternoons sipping coffee and strolling through colorful cities with Duncan began to change after the last letter. Knowing that he wanted her sent shivers down her spine.

I can't stop thinking about you either... Especially your last letter.

I want to know all the ways you'd make me yours.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it as well. I'm counting the days with you until you're able to get out and do just that...

Y/N colored her lips with her favorite lipstick and kissed the bottom of the page, leaving the perfect kiss mark on it.

She had unlocked something with Duncan with the last letter. Ever since he and Y/N started to exchange letters back and forth, he hadn't even bothered to open mail from other admirers. He only had eyes for Y/N.

Y/N.

Wish you could hear how your name falls off my lips as I chant it over and over when I bring myself relief - picturing your lips around my cock.

God.

It's hard to think clearly when you're on my mind.

You want to know of all the ways I'd make you mine? My hand would fall off by the time it took to write out each and every way I'd do that, sweetheart.

For starters, I'd love to skin my teeth into your skin. Leaving sweet love bites along your neck. Would you like that?

I wouldn't want you to worry about a thing.

You'd let me take care of you, right baby?

Maybe I'd tie up your wrists to make sure you keep still while I work on making you cum.

I hope you know I plan on keeping these promises the moment I get out.

Y/N touched herself as she read Duncan's letter again. His words making her pool between her legs. She dipped her hand into her panties and imagined everything Duncan described that he'd do to her.

Y/N wanted to do something special for Duncan.

She changed into a lacy lingerie set and grabbed her old camera again. Her heartbeat was beating fast with excitement. She held one hand up with her finger on the shutter and pointed it towards her bottoms. As she dipped her free hand into the waistband of her panties, she took the teasing shot of her hand inside her underwear.

Her cheeks felt hot as she took a look at the photo.

She took a few more. A few more teasing pictures - like the one she took wearing her leather jacket barely covering her - along with more R- rated photos.

She grabbed her small stack of photos and tied them with a piece of ribbon in order from least to most risque and added them to the letter she sent off to him.

Do you know what you do to me?

My letters make you touch yourself? What I would give to be able to see it in more than just your pictures. To be able to hear you for myself.

You don't know how much I loved your photos. You make my cock throb, thinking of just how much I want to fuck you.

I need to see you. Hear you.

How would you feel about coming to see me?

I can arrange with my assistants (the ones not in prison) to arrange a flight for you...

Please let me know what you think.

Love, D.S.

Love D.S.

-

"Shepherd. You got a call," the guard buzzed Duncan out of his cell and took him to the phone booth where the phone was waiting for him.

He wasn't expecting a call from his lawyer until later this week so he wasn't sure who would be calling him. Not like he and his family were on great terms at the moment.

Y/N tapped her foot anxiously on the other end of the call, trying to fight the nerves off.

"Hello?"

His voice was lower than she expected.

"Hi," she spoke barely above a whisper. "It's Y/N," she continued.

"Y/N? Y/N? Oh my god." Duncan smiled in a way he hadn't since he stepped foot into prison. "Your voice!" he laughed, "I'm hearing your voice! Wait, how? I - why? How?" he was at loss for words at the surprise.

"I hope it's okay. I called the office where I send my letters to and asked to call you," she bit her lip. "I like your voice."

Duncan chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow. It's so good to hear yours."

They knew they didn't have much time but they were both so wrapped up in the fact that they were hearing each other for the first time.

"I, uh, also wanted to talk to you about your... proposal from your last letter... about visiting you I mean." she paced back and forth in her room. "I'd like that. A lot."

His cheeks would be hurting from how hard he was smiling.

"You've got it, baby. We'll make it happen, I promise."

There was a brief pause, "Don't know how I'm gonna control myself when I have you in front of me, princess."

"Two minutes, Shepherd," the guard called over making Duncan roll his eyes.

"I have to go soon. But include your info in the next letter and I'll have my lawyers work something out with you, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "And Dunc, it's so good to hear your voice too,"

"You'll call me again?" he asked, desperation almost bleeding into his tone.

"Yes. I promise."

"Good." he grinned. "I'll talk to you soon. Bye, baby."

-

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Duncan continued to have phone calls more often, but their letters never stopped. He got in touch with his attorney and passed along Y/N's information for him to follow up and help arrange a trip for her.

Before she knew it, she was being flown out in a first class seat to D.C.

They had her stay in a luxury suite the night before she got to finally meet Duncan.

The morning of, Y/N had piles of clothes tossed around the room as she searched for what to wear.

She'd known Duncan and his taste pretty well from his letters and phone calls to know what he liked. Y/N put on a baby pink silk mini slip dress that tiptoed the line between streetwear and lingerie, and strappy heels.

"Damn, baby. Haven't seen you around here..."

"Are you here for me?"

Along with countless other cat calls flooded her ears as the guard led her to Duncan's cell.

Duncan heard the commotion down the hall and he knew Y/N would be there any second. He frowned, wanting to take her away. None of those creeps deserved to even look at her, and here they were harassing her. It was his fault for bringing her there. He tried to tune them out, wanting to be okay when he saw Y/N.

Y/N was standing behind the guard as they came to Duncan's cell.

"Follow me, Shepherd. You both have an hour," the guard let Duncan out and he could finally lock eyes with Y/N.

She froze, finally seeing. His photo on the website did him no justice. The piercing stare of his eyes couldn't be recaptured on camera. His pink, full lips were even prettier in person.

"Hi," Duncan broke the silence between them. He was handcuffed immediately so he couldn't touch her the way he wished he could have right away.

But they were taken to the parloir where they would finally have some sense of privacy. Duncan's lawyers had worked out for this conjugal visit. They might have slipped the guards a few extra bills to ensure Duncan and Y/N had extra privacy for a moment. But Duncan had been a model prisoner (in one of the comfiest prisons in the country), so the guards had no reason to say no.

"One hour." he reminded Dunc, as he removed his handcuffs and left the room, leaving Y/N and Duncan alone.

"You're here," he closed the gap between them and embraced her. She smelled even better than he imagined.

"Duncan," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "I can't believe it's really you," she giggled.

"It's me," he pulled back, holding her hands as he admired her. "God, you're gorgeous."

Y/N couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around Duncan and kissed him.

Duncan stumbled back a little before steadying them. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss. He could feel her pulse quickening under his hand.

"God, can't believe you're here," he mumbled against her lips.

It'd be so long since he'd be this intimate with anyone - let alone someone he liked so much. He tried to push back the thoughts of the ticking clock counting their time and the cold industrial feel of the room they were in.

"I'm here... I'm yours," she tangled her fingers in his hair before kissing him again.

Duncan led her to the table, setting her on top of it. He towered above her, his hands on her thighs, slowly inching up her dress. She was everything he imagined and more.

"Open your legs for me," he instructed, parting them open.

He lowered himself until he was face to face with her dripping cunt. Her panties, if they could even be called that - they were a piece of barely-there cloth - were soaked. Duncan pressed her lips to the wet spot on her underwear and kissed it slowly, letting his tongue poke out through his lips and coat them with his saliva as well.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured, pulling her panties aside and putting his tongue on her wet pussy.

He lapped her wetness with his tongue, letting it massage her clit. Sucking and kissing her - watching how every move he made caused a different reaction from her.

Y/N tried to keep quiet, biting down on her lip to stifle her moans.

Duncan peeked up at her, holding in her sounds. He remembered the way the other prisoners hollered at her.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Please," he begged. He kissed along her thighs, "Want everyone in this god damn prison to know you're mine."

Y/N let the sounds she was holding in fall freely.

"Duncan. Duncan..." she called his name over and over getting closer to the sweet relief his tongue promised.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

Duncan felt her heels digging into his shoulder blades as she trembled, finishing on his lips.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing along her thighs.

Duncan stood up as Y/N watched him with her hands pressed on the table, leaning back slightly to watch him.

"What?" Duncan chuckled, slowly undoing his jumpsuit.

"Just can't stop looking at you! You're real!" she laughed.

"Sure am," he grabbed his shaft, closing the gap between them. "I don't know when we'll be able to see each other.. like this again," he leaned down to kiss her. "Wanna make sure I make you feel good,"

He rubbed the end of his cock against her pussy. "Are you ready?"

"Waited so long," she whined, nodding her head.

Duncan pushed inside her, slowly. Savoring the way he stretched her open.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're so tight," he panted, feeling her clench around his length.

He focused on the way he snapped his hips into hers, keeping a steady pace trying not to finish before she did.

But it had been so long. It had been a long time coming for this moment.

His head was in the crook of her neck, panting heavily. "Fuck, baby." he sunk his teeth into her soft skin. "Gonna cum," before he could finish his statement, he shot his load into her.

He stayed inside her as he rode out his orgasm.

Flushed Duncan faced her; embarrassed for finishing before he wanted to. "I'm sor-" she stopped him by pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss.

She pushed his hair out of his face, bumping her nose with his, "Nothing to be sorry for."

She had Duncan lay on the floor, using his jumpsuit to hold his head up, and then straddled his waist.

Her silky mini dress was bunched around her hips. Duncan found himself getting hard again as she climbed on top of him.

"Thought about doing this for so long," she kissed him. "Can't tell you how often I touched myself reading your letters... thinking about riding you," she sighed, positioning herself over his cock and sinking down.

She rode his cock, bouncing up and down his length. Her nails dug into his chest as she used it for support. The curve of his cock hitting her core made her eyes roll back with each roll of her hips.

Hot sweaty bodies had the coldness of the room forgotten.

Y/N grabbed Duncan's hands, intertwining their fingers, "Gonna.." she started, her legs shaking as her movement got sloppier.

"Me too," he grunted.

She felt Duncan fill her to the brim for the second time.

After a few moments of stillness, Y/N finally stood up, helping Duncan up with her. Her legs were shaky and Duncan helped her sit down.

She reached into her purse for a rag she brought. Duncan took it from her hand and got on his knees again. He cleaned their cum off her thighs, stopping only to give her small little kisses on her legs.

He heard Y/N sniffle and looked up, concern painted across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Is she regretting it? He thought.

"No! Of course not," she sniffled again, "I just wish... you could come with me. Leave this place with me."

"Oh, baby," he stood up and kissed her forehead. "Soon. I promise," he tilted her chin up to kiss her.

And Y/N knew he meant what he said. Soon they'd be able to be together all the time, but it still broke her heart to leave and have to see him stay behind the metal bars.

tags:

@desertsunflower00 @celestialrequiem @dhampiravidi @ritualmichael @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @xavierplympton @langdonswhoreprobably @feralthoughtdump @wroteclassicaly @melodylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860

bonus: screenshot from a very good point drunk!anon made vkfsjk

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Regina George

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You technically don’t meet Regina, but she first talks to you one day after school while you’re walking to the bus stop.

- You see, you’re a part of the school yearbook; a photographer to be specific, and took photography class so you were fiddling with your camera while you were walking. You being a part of the yearbook was also initially the reason that she talked to you since Regina doesn’t give the time of day to people like you unless she wants something.

- So there you were, walking across the school yard when Regina fucking George called out to you.

- Now everybody knows who Regina is; which is why I said you didn’t technically meet, and Regina knows that they do, but she’s learned how to play people so she introduces herself. You shyly greet her back, wondering what she’s doing talking to you before she says “oh wow” and begins to ask about your camera.

- You don’t know enough about Regina at this point to realize that she’s playing you like a fiddle so you timidly talk to her for a while before your photography class comes up into conversation. She asks what you do in it and you mention the project you’ve just been assigned: having to pick one or a few subjects and photograph them for about half the year.

- She asks if you’ve chosen someone yet, you mention that you’ll probably choose one of your friends and she says an “oh” which has you hanging on to her next words.

“Well,” she says somewhat pointedly, “I was just thinking, I mean, you’ll have the rest of your life to photograph your friends, and I’m sure you do it all the time. So maybe you should pick a new subject?”

“If you wanted,” she says after you seem to be considering her words. “We’d be more than happy to help you out. You can come hang out with us and build up your portfolio.”

- You ask if she’s sure and she sweetly reassures you, writing down her number and telling you to think about it.

- Well bless your gay little heart, of course you say yes! You’re practically mesmerized by her! It’s just too bad that she only sees you as her own personal photographer ...at least at first.

- So you begin to hang out with the plastics, shocking everyone in your school whenever they actually give you the time of day. Though, of course, they have to give you a makeover and teach you the rules first.

- Everywhere you go, you bring your camera and snap some photos of them, oftentimes at their request. When you’re at school events working on the yearbook, Regina will call your name and you’ll obediently take some pictures of her/them wherever they are. Blinded by your growing crush on the mean girl, you don’t realize what’s happening, especially since she really seems to think of you as a friend.

- I mean, why would she tell guys with newfound interest in you to leave you alone or force you to hang out with her instead of your loser friends/boyfriend or call you up and tell you to sneak out and hang out with her.

- Truth be told, Regina George had taken an actually liking to you and perhaps it had started purely because of the attention you were getting from guys. Regina liked having what other couldnt and now that you were desired; and for other reasons, she wanted you.

- Things come to a head when Gretchen accidentally let slip exactly why Regina had made you their friend after the blonde upset her. The confession had come as a shock but at the same time, you felt dirty, like you’d known all along that it was too good to be true and this was just proving to you that it was.

- You were hurt, you were upset, you were ...angry. How dare she use you like that? Pretend to be your friend for some goddamn photos!

- You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of blowing up on her, of letting her drop you from the group herself after you “overstepped your boundaries”, so, you ignored her. You didn’t answer her calls, avoided her at school, blatantly ignored her when she called after you. You gave her the silent treatment and it gave you a sick sense of victory.

- Regina hates being ignored and not having control of everything so you; someone she’s grown to have feelings for, just up and ignoring her like she was some common geek really pissed her off. God, you should have seen her after Gretchen admitted she’d told you; the blonde could have killed her.

- So now that the blonde knew what was wrong, she started working towards fixing the mess the “brunette bitch” had made. You obviously weren’t returning her calls nor letting her come near you at school, so she had to surprise you somewhere, somewhere you couldn’t get rid of her. The schools darkroom.

- No one was around there after school, well, no one besides you so when the blonde entered and shut the door behind her, tapping on your shoulder as music blared in your headphones, you nearly had a heart attack.

- Out of sheer shock and anger, you began to yell at her, hurling a few “what the hell is wrong with yous” and insults and explaining that you don’t want to see her. She remains blank faced before she tells you to shut up, successfully shocking you into silence.

- She told you that yes, initially she’d only talked to you for the photos but even then, she saw potential in you, she saw something she liked in you. She thought her interest in you was just some sort of jealousy thing but then she figured out that it was something more. When guys asked you out; well when they tried to, she felt the same way she felt when Aaron Samuels ignored her for some other girl.

- And then she asked if you would go out with her, well, she sort of demanded that you’d go out with her and for better or for worse, you said you would.

- For your first date, the two of you go to the mall together. You spend a few hours shopping around, getting coffees and talking like normal humans. It’s no surprise that you have a good time but you are surprised by how natural it feels to be with her.

- The two of you share your first kiss a few days later, after you’d gone to some party that she’d insisted you attend with her. Some guy had hit on you, causing her to subsequently pretend that she was tired of the place and wanted to go home. Once you were back in her car, she’d pulled you into a rough, obviously jealous kiss, leaving you grinning while she began to drive away.

- And thus, the queen of the plastics became your queen.

- Regina isn’t a huge fan of Pda unless she knows that someone in the vicinity has a crush on you. If there’s someone’s day she can ruin by doing it, then she’s all over you.

- You’ll usually keep your arm around her shoulder or have her arm around you.

- Blowing kisses.

- Just watch the lip gloss when she’s going to be in public, alright?

- Aggressive kisses and makeouts.

- She actually likes cuddling; particularly spooning, especially when she’s feeling upset. She’ll either hold you or let you hold her for hours, usually while watching television.

- You have your very own pair of fuzzy slippers for whenever you stay over at her house.

- Sunbathing on her balcony.

- Phonecalls before bed.

- Affectionate name calling and insults.

- Playful hitting and wrestling.

- Borrowing each other’s stuff: clothes, makeup, perfume, etc. She’ll occasionally buy you things just so she can steal them from you later.

- Small gifts.

- A surprising amount of compliments. You don’t expect Regina George to boost your self esteem up as much as she does but what can she say, she just loves everything about you.

- She likes hearing you rant, she finds it really amusing when you act all bitchy.

- Writing in the burn book, or at least being somewhat pressured into trying it; not purposefully. She just thinks that it’s cathartic so why wouldn’t you?

- Making fun of people together. She’s more mean spirited than you are but hey, you’re both being bitches, right?

- Expect her to make a few commands. She’s just used to having followers and puppy dogs for partners, don’t take it personally.

- Getting her to be nicer to her friends.

- Learning the rules of popularity.

- Getting matching jewelry.

- I’m sorry but you’re now her dress up doll and there’s no stopping it. She’ll do your makeup, buy your clothes, style your hair, whatever her little heart desires; and you’ll just have to let her.

- She actually sort of secretly likes punk/alternative music but you’re one of the few people that’s allowed to know. You bought her an Avril Lavigne cd this one time and she not so jokingly said that she’d go down on you for being so sweet.

- You’re dragged around a lot. You sort of just do whatever she wants, especially if you’re just hanging out rather than going on an actual date.

- Surrender the keys slut. Regina insists on driving no matter whose car you’re taking.

- Going shopping. She needs your advice before she can buy things.

- Holding her stuff for her. I’m sorry but your girlfriend acts like a princess.

- Getting coffees.

- Lunch dates.

- Going to parties together.

- Junk food binges.

- Having tons of photographs together. She has a good bunch of the more platonic looking ones; at least until she comes out, displayed around her room.

- Going to her sports games.

- Letting her rant to you before she has an aneurysm. You’ve certainly helped calm her down from some of her really bad tantrums.

- Hanging out with her little sister. Surprisingly enough, Regina actually really likes her and acts super cute when they’re together.

- She’s got a huge house and an aggressively supportive mom so if your parents are shitty, you’re always welcome to stay with them.

- Telling her how beautiful she is and trying to stop her from focusing on every little somewhat nonexistent flaw of hers.

- Reginas a very jealous girl. She hates seeing you with other people, particularly ones who she thinks are interested in you. She’ll ask what you’re doing talking to them and blatantly scare them away when she’s had enough.

- She’s definitely possessive of you; that’s just how she is.

- Don’t mess with mama bear. She’s sorta overprotective of you and gets offended in your honor. God forbid someone upsets you, or just accidentally bumps into you in the hallway, their life will be destroyed in a matter of minutes.

- The two of you probably fight a lot, sometimes merely bickering, other times having full on screaming matches. She’ll usually either act passive aggressive and pretend to not be bothered or be completely blunt and rude.

- You’ll usually give her the silent treatment and she’ll do the same to you, though she’ll snoop and secretly drive around to see what you’re doing without her. When she’s sick of not seeing you, she’ll give a reluctant apology and somehow always make you forgive her.

- Regina isn’t shy when it comes to saying she loves you, mainly because she usually says it playfully. Though, with that being said, she does always mean it when she says it.

- Perhaps the bus incident happens, perhaps it doesn’t. Nonetheless, the two of you are planning on sticking by each other’s sides; at least for a while.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs, “The Press.”

I have been wanting to do this for a while. Commander Vir deals with fame, and the good and bad parts of it. I hope you like, sorry I am so late today :) 

“Why exactly am I back on earth? My tour doesn’t end for another six months, and we were just getting ready for our first exploratory mission since before the burg war.”

“Look, commander, I understand this isn’t what you thought you were signing up for, but since the movie dropped recruitment has Gone up 45% and another 20% after merchandising, we need to get on this quick,”

He sighed 

“Besides, you will only be touring one or two weeks. That’s one or two weeks paid vacation while you talk to celebrities, pose for pictures, and maybe do a press conference or two. Bring along a couple of friends to keep you company and it won’t be that bad.”

“Alright, alright, I get it, but I’m not a dancing monkey. I didn’t sign up for this, and it’s not going to becoming a thin.”

“Yes commander, now The UNSC is taking you first. You are their poster child after all, and they want your face on the recruiting posters .”

“Very well, ma’am.”

***

Wednesday, June 3

“This is good work commander, but we are going to bring in an expert to make it just right.”

Commander Vir stood in an empty hanger bay surrounded by reflective panels, directional lights and a multitude of camera equipment. Sunny and Krill were playing a guessing game he had taught them earlier in the day to keep them occupied, and Waffles -- his dog -- was curled up by one of the set technicians taking a nap.

“An expert?”

“Yes, we’re bringing in one of the guys who used to be a guard in Arlington. The uniform looks good, but is it perfect?”

The answer to that question was answered simply few minutes later

He was a slob, a big fat slob who didn’t know how to properly wear his socks. The guy even whipped out a tape measure to determine the exact distance that a pin should be placed from the crease in his collar.

Commander Vir didn’t see the difference on the small scale, but in aggregate, he found that the difference was actually quite startling. He blinked, “Wow.”

“Excellent, now, we’re going to have you stand over here while we adjust the lights, and then when we give you the cue we want you to follow the order to a T. We will have parade rest attention, present at attention and then contemplatively looking off into the distance. We will have someone with a marker to tell you where to look.”

“Stare contemplatively off into the distance. I don’t remember learning that one.”

“Ahh we got a smartass.” 

He stepped into place doing as the cameraman ordered, trying to look serious and imposing as directed, though Sunny and Krill had decided to make faces in the background. He actually did loose it at some point as Sunny started doing some weird improvised dancing in the background while krill stood there like it offended his sensibilities.

Eventually they got what he wanted, and they showed him some of the prototypes.

There were a few that he liked but only because they looked like vintage  movie posters from some badass naval war movie.

Thursday, June 4 

The three of them walked into the studio watching as bodies flowed past them hurrying off in all directions. Obviously their presence caused quite a stir, and Adam thought he recognized a few faces peering from the crowd, other movies stars and celebrities, but he couldn't be sure what he was seeing. And then there were the women, and men who hurried about, tall, statuesque like greek gods given life, with jaws so sharp they could cut paper, and pouty lips under wide dark eyes. 

Looking at them and then at himself, well, he felt like a dump truck next to a sports car.

Sunny on the other hand didn’t seem impressed, “I could snap them in half…. Like twigs.”

“Fighting isn’t the point Sunny, they’re just supposed to be hot.”

Krill eyed them, “Their single job is to profess the perfect mating standard?”

“Ur yeah, I guess.”

Krill snorted, Sunny shook her head ,’ What is the point of being hot if you’re also useless besides you don’t look all that different.”

He rolled his eyes. Leave it to an alien not to be able to tell what super hot humans looked like.

“I’m serious,” Sunny insisted, “You’re as tall as most of them, and more muscular than some of them, and you have a cool eye patch, so that means you win.”

He couldn’t help but smile shaking his head, “Alright, Alright, I’ll shut up.”

At that moment a woman appeared from nowhere and held out a hand, “Commander! So glad you could come, so glad.” She looked him up and down with a frown.”

“That bad huh?”

“Nothing a little wardrobe and makeup can’t fix.” She announced clapping her hands together and motioning others over as he frowned.

He frowned.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing “

“Do I tell you how to do your job commander, no, now over to wardrobe .”

He blinked in surprise, “Ok, yes ma’am.”

He found himself sidling over to where racks and racks of clothing was hanging suddenly surrounded by the tall, statuesque people with their big eyes and pouty lips. While they were busy looking hot, he got nervous and nearly knocked over an entire rack of clothing, blushed till he was beat red, and then decided after this was all over he was going to bury himself under a rock and die.

He was mostly ignored for like twenty minutes until someone walked over, “Commander,” He was a portly little man with hair dyed frost white though his roots were growing in black. The man grabbed him by the hand and dragged him across the room, “Alright, alright, what do we have.”

He looked him over prodding t his shoulders and arms, making him turn in a circle, “Not bad, not bad at all. I can work with this. Tell me commander formal, or casual.”

“Uh casual?”

“Exactly what I was thinking! The provincial small town man feel. I like it.”

“Well I mean ok…” the little man grabbed him aggressively by the arm and pulled him around to a rack of clothing. In the end he had a pair of jeans black boots a black T-shirt and a brown leather jacket.

He frowned, “I hate to point this out, but this is literally what I am wearing.”

“No it isn’t. Yours is frumpy and sloppy and ours will make you look acceptably rugged.”

He frowned not sure if he was supposed to be offended or not, “And where am I supposed to change.”

“Right here.”

“Right here!’

“Commander, these are models, they show their bodies off for a living, none of them need a changing room, so take a leaf out of their book and stop worrying.”

This was worse than a high school locker room. Humans had never reached light speed, but he was pretty sure he at least broke the sound barrier while pulling on the new pants.

When he walked back over pulling on his jacket sunny and Krill had made themselves comfortable in a couple of the stage crew chairs, “What are you so nervous about, you looked fine.” Sonny said looking down at her implants to change music.

“You were watching me>”

“Was I not supposed to do that.” 

He felt himself turn a nice shade of cherry red, “No!.”

She shrugged, “Whatever.” 

Krill just shook his head, “You forget that neither of us wear clothes, so we do not understand your issues.”

He sighed, “Nudists.” He muttered walking towards the set, though he was immediately diverted by another person who led him over to a set of chairs and mirrors. He was pushed down into a seat and spun around and an aggressive group of stylists moved in on him. This is honestly not what he had expected when he joined the army.

He was even less impressed when they started to stick brushes in his face causing him to blink and his eyes to itch. Someone wetted down his hair and put product in it that smelled like strawberries, which, honestly he wasn’t entirely annoyed about.

From there he was finally let go and walked onto another photo set, though this one had way more lightning, way more cameras and way more props.

And of course like the awesome badass commander that he was, he stood there like a complete idiot as stiff as a board, caught like a deer in the headlights. The photographer seemed more than a little annoyed at his inability to look like anything other than sasquatch caught on a hunting camera.

“Relax.”

“This is kind of out of my element.”

“Being capture by aliens and going on space walks where you might suffocate, and you cant relax enough to take a picture.”

“To be fair, no one sees me when I am doing badass stuff, so I don’t have the social pressure of preforming well.”

They tried some more.

They told him he was smiling awkwardly, or like he was being threatened at gunpoint.

It wasn’t until Sunny started doing stupid dances behind the camera-man, again that the photographer finally started to like what he was seeing. Every time he turned to look at what Vir was smiling at, Sunny would stop dancing trying to look all innocent.

That just made him laugh.

At some point one of the people had a great idea to involve waffles, and -- like the good girl that she was -- she promptly stole the spotlight, which he was totally cool with.

Photoshoots were definitely not his thing.

He was about 100 percent sure when the photos came out they would look like his last middle school yearbook picture.

Even thinking about it made him grimace.

Friday, June 5

“And please help me to welcome our next special guest, Commander Adam Vir of the UNSC.”

His legs felt like jelly, and it took sunny nudging him to finally get him moving onto the stage. He wondered if people could tell just how bad his legs were shaking.

And there was a twitching going on in his right cheek that he just couldn't stop.

He wanted to go back to the hotel and watch dumb TV With Sunny while krill complained about the medical inaccuracies.

But here he was listening to clapping and cheering from an assembled studio crowd. He was sure he was going to do something massively stupid, like trip off the stage, or rip his pants or forget his own name, or something.

The host stood up, he was blanking on their name right now though he knew they were ridiculously famous.

He shook hands with them.

“So glad you could come commander.”

“A pleasure to be here.” He responded robotically hoping that his smile was at least somewhat convincing.”

He took a seat on the couch, resting a hand against his shaking right leg.

He was going to puke.

“So, i Heard you have been on tour  for the past two days, how are you enjoying the celebrity circuit.”

He rubbed his hands against his legs, “Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Lets hear the real one.”

“Er, well it turns out I am really bad at…. Pretty much everything that’s not captaining a ship. Yesterday I did a photoshooot where I am ninety percent sure I looked like an awkward cryptid most of the time. People are going to be looking at those photos and wondering in what swamp they found me.” 

There was laughter from the crowd.

He wasn’t entirely sure if that was funny or not.

“I am sure they aren’t as bad as all that.”

He shook his head, “Pretty sure my face was like this…” He raised his hands making a wide-eyed shocked expression that had the crowd laughing again.”

The host smiled, “Commander, Forgive me for asking, but how old are you.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Um, lets just say too young and leave it at that.”

“I was sort of under the impression that commanders and admirals were….”

“Old wrinkly dudes?”

“Yeah.” 

He rubbed the back of his head, “That’s mostly true, the reason I got this position has to do with my experience with extra terrestrials.”

“I’ve heard rumors that you have aliens on board your ship. Is that true.”

“Those shouldn’t be rumors, that is entirely true. We have a twenty….three person Drev clan, a Vrul medical officer, a starborn, and some miscellaneous others.”

A muttering from the crowd, “But you were part of the Drev war, and Operation Steel eye. How did an entire Drev clan end up on your ship?”

He shrugged, “The story is complicated, but the long and short of it is, I made friends with some Drev after the war, and they adopted me into the clan.”

“Can we…. See, the prosthetic I mean” He held up his hands, “Not to be disrespectful.”

He shrugged, “sure.” Reaching down and tugging up his pant leg so the bright blue carapace glittered in the bright studio lights.

The man leaned closer, “Wow…. What…. What is that?”

“Drev carapace.” He dropped the pant leg.

“Why?”

“That is actually the reason I am adopted. A drev has to give you a gift that contains a piece of their own armor, so my best friend made this for me some time ago.” 

They talked about that for a little while. They talked about the war, they talked about his first moment on an alien planet.

“I was actually on the original mission to land on  Proxima b. I was the shuttle pilot behind Captain Kelly, though I don’t know how many people knew that.

There was a murmuring around the room.

“I know it was broadcasted live, but luckily the cameras were pointed away because when I was getting out of the shuttle, my foot slipped on the stairs.” The crowd gasped and giggled, “And I face planted right onto the surface.” 

More laughing.

“That is my legacy, the first man to take a nose dive on an alien planet.”

“I would say that your legacy contains a lot of strange instances. There are reports that you recently escaped from kidnapping by a prodigum by… Singing? How did that work?”

He rubbed the back of his head, “Well that is… that is.” he laughed nervously, “Yes that is a thing that happened. I and my friend Sunny were captured by a criminal overlord for entertainment in his little criminal syndicate. They had cages lined all along the ceiling and inside them were other humans. Turns out the Prodigum react to human singing like a drug, so I was asked to sing, luckily for me one of the woman in the other cage was a voice coach, so a few days of starving and being miserable, she taught me how to sing properly, or a little more properly, and then I sang a super sad song, distracted everyone long enough for y friend to escape and call for help.”

Gasping and more laughter around the room.

“Wow…. Your life….”

“Reads like a strange cartoon doesn’t it.”

From the crowd, “Sing for us!.”

The call was taken up a few more times.

He shook his head, “No no no, no I am not going to sing on international television. I have embarrassed myself enough this week.” 

“You now commander, you wouldn’t want to disappoint the public.”

He could feel the heat rising into his face as the rest of the crowd took up the chant.

He tried to protest, but that didn’t seem to be working.

Eventually he held up his hands “Ok, ok, but if my voice cracks…. Just don’t laugh.”

“And you were without accompaniment.”

He sighed, “Yeah it was a Capella. They didn’t exactly give me a soundtrack.” he stood taking a few deep breaths and humming to himself. His legs were shaking even worse than before.

He rubbed his hands nervously together.

The studio went very quiet.

He felt sweat trickling down his back between his shoulder blades.

He took a deep breath and….

His voice came out loud and clear, though it quivered slightly. He tried to shore it up as he continued, taking deeper breaths trying to get more control. He tried to find that place where he had been back in the cage. The sort of hopeless anguish he had tried to convey. His voice did quake a few times, but he was ok with that.

At least he didn’t do something super stupid like fall off the stage.

He cut it off hallway because his legs were shaking so bad, he thought that any worse might cause him to fall over.

The crowd began to clap as he collapsed back into his seat taking a deep breath.

“Wow, that is pretty impressive for someone who says they don’t sing. Bet the person who wrote that didn’t think it would be used to escape alien kidnappers.”

“Whatever it was, it worked. But” he lifted his hand, “I’m shaking so bad right now.”

The man shook his head, “That form someone who doesn’t shake when he flies jets at thousands of miles per hour.”

He smiled, “The jet isn’t going to judge me if my voice cracks. I think you will find aliens and airplanes are a lot less scary than humans. Don’t get me wrong humans are great , you guys just scare me half to death.” 

Saturday, June 6

A flight demonstration over the beach, which was pretty good 

Sunday, June 7

Dinner with a few important famous people

Monday, June 8 

Dinner with some politicians.

Tuesday, June 9 

He visited some UNSC bases up and down  the western coastline talking to servicemen and visiting some other people

Wednesday June, 10

The magazines came out, and they actually managed to make him look pretty good to his surprise,  though he was pretty sure the picture had been taking while Sunny was doing something with her hips that Drev hips had not been designed for, which eventually made him laugh so hard he had choked.

Thursday, June 11

This was his last day, and he had one more press conference to attend, than he could go home. He was wearing his formal uniform, captain’s cap, cords, gloves and everything else. There were at least ten microphones on the lectern in front of him, and a crowd of reporters below. Lights blinded his eyes.

Behind his back, the UNSC flag outlined him in bright blue. 

He was getting ready for more questions about the Burg war or wearing the steel eye armor.

He nodded to one of the reporters in the front.

“Commander, do you want to explain to us why, on UNSC time you were  reported as supporting an LFIL protest when you were supposed to be acting as neutral crowd control.”

He felt the blood drain right out of his face.

He was not ready for this.

Inside his brain went blank. He stammered for a second, suddenly feeling like a little kid giving a class presentation while all eyes stared at him. More cameras flashed, “I…. I was doing what I thought…. Needed to be done to keep the protest civil.”

“That was not your job!”

More yelling until the crowd was shushed, “Look, the GA wasn’t seeing any of their representative. I simply explained their side of the story to the GA, and they decided to lift the ban on their own.”

“Directly going against the policies of the UNSC was a gross breach of your contract commander, and we are all having a hard time understanding why you have not been disciplined for it.” 

“You have no idea what is on y contract. My job is to foster peace throughout the galaxy, and THAT is what I did.”

“Some people see it as a direct attack on our way of life. You are helping spread disease poor moral values throughout the galaxy.”

He felt his face burning, “What makes you think their relationships have anything to do with you NONE of them live on earth or on Mars. They do not interact with you, they do not bother you, they do not THINK about you. And no they are not spreading disease because every person who leaves earth receives a full disease panel. You are more likely to have communicable diseases than they are.” 

Uproar.

He shouldn't have said that.

“You are spreading extrial propaganda, and now that you are the face of the UNSC you are having an impact on our children, so t is your duty to uphold the values of the Human public.”

His hands were gripping white onto the lectern, “It is my job to uphold MY values and if the UNSC doesn’t like what I am doing they will fire me, so that is none of your concern.”

“Commander Vir, are you an extrail.”

The room went very silent suddenly. His heart was hammering in his chest.

“You are out of line. My personal life whatever it may entail has no bearing on my work, so you will either ask me professional questions or we are done here.”

“But you haven't denied it!” Someone else shouted.

“That question doesn't deserve an answer either way. If i tell you, that means I am justifying myself to you, which I have no desire to do, and if I were to confirm the other way, I would be bringing a personal issue into a political light, which would also be inappropriate. Either way I will not answer you. Unless there are any more questions that involve my work and not my personal life…”

He wouldn’t budge forcing them to change the subject.

His hands were shaking again, but this time it was out of anger. He had to breathe very slowly to keep himself calm enough.

***

Headlines 

Commander Vir Extrail or Normal 

SCANDAL: UNSC’s Golden boy involved with aliens?

Press conference turns to barbed comments.

LFIL Propaganda

[damfinofanfiction]

Chapter 15: The Journal and Roscoe’s Wedding

Over the course of three days since she last saw Buster, Gail heard those knocks again, but this time it was a delivery man who brought her flowers. They were nicer than the ones she got before. On the note attached to the bouquet, she read the message; Dear Gail, it was I who’s the chump when I realized that I should’ve got you something when I came over. No matter, it’s not too late anyway. Wishing you the best of health and hope you had plenty of rest! - BK. Grabbing the vase and filling it with flowers, she smiled at his gesture. Then another day, Gail went out to the movie theater to see The Iron Mule, as Buster had recommended. She hadn't been in a cinema for a while because she was busy working in a background role and so much else was going on. When the short played, Gail recognized the featured locomotive, The Rocket Train, from Keaton's Our Hospitality. She thought it was likely due to Arbuckle's connections to his colleague. Seven minutes into the film, an Indian showed up in the frame to board one of the coaches. When Buster mentioned looking out for that character, Gail wondered he secretly took part as that Indian. She couldn't recognize him underneath the concealing makeup. When the train rolled without the engineer and most of the passengers, the Indian escaped by throwing a rope to the stake, when he made a landing and then performed a somersault when the rope caught up to him, Gail knew that was Buster from his past stunts. He confirmed it when he came over to check on her the next day.

“Yes, I was that Indian fellow for the stunts,” said the comedian, sitting beside Gail at her table. “And you know that Train was one of my films?”

“Right! Our Hospitality!” She chirped in. “I knew as soon as I saw it.” Gail was grateful that he called before to confirm another visit before lunch break is over. Sally had practice, so they wouldn’t worry about her barging in. She had put together cucumber sandwiches for him in thanks for comforting her. 

“My team did a fine job building the Rocket that everybody thought it’s a real deal since it looked authentic,” he said taking a bite.

Gail poured herself the last of the milk for the day, “Did you ever think that you would be a film director?”

“Hell, I never saw myself stepping into the film 10 years ago.” He excused himself for using obscenity in her presence. She didn't mind. She drank the milk as he continued telling his story, “My pop never let us go to the flickers growing up. He thought they were a fad.” He continued, “William Randolph Hearst offered us to make a two-reeler based on the comic strip that ran on his papers, but Pop rejected the idea, saying that nobody would want to watch Three Keatons on a bedsheet for a dime. I ended up working with Roscoe some years before that Hearst bastard helped slander his name on the headlines.” 

“Just too bad he’s reduced to making cheap comedies,” Gail sighed.

“He’ll get back on his feet. I’m sure of it,” Buster looked at her cast, then to her face, “What’ll happen to you once the cast is off?”

Gail could never be more excited to get the stiff plaster off her arm. Of course, she needed to expand her film experience once she was able to work again. “I could go out looking for background roles again,” she said. “I hope to hear from Mr. Sennett again.”

“I thought you quit working on shorts.”

She reminded him, “If he offered me a leading or supporting role, I will do so. I can always make time for features.”

While Buster was about to say something to her, he noticed something on her couch, “What’s this you got there?” He pointed to a larger book on the coffee table. 

Appalled, Gail didn't realize that she left it there, “Oh, it’s nothing- it’s something, it’s not too important- for you.” she carried it with her arm. it then slipped off to the floor. Buster offered to help. The ticket stub was discarded to the floor she picked it up quickly, opened the album, and glued the stub back in its place.

“Ah it’s like a Scrapbook,” he said peeking onto the pages with Gail hiding them from him, “My mother made one of the articles from the time when we performed in vaudeville as The Three Keatons.”

“These are for my eyes only not yours.” She closed her journal and placed it under the table, “We never brought up your parents and siblings. How are they?”

He sat down beside her, “Everyone’s doing alright. Ma and the siblings live together. My brother Jingles works in real estate. My sister Louise is finishing another year of school.” 

“What about your father?”

He sighed as he took a pause. He replied, “My Folks are separated.”

Gail gave him a sullen look, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“They aren’t divorced, but it felt strange.” he turned away from her, “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Gail understood right away that Buster was worried about his marriage. She knew he was an unfaithful husband since the end of last year. What she had learned since moving to Los Angeles is that divorce is common for celebrity couples. Buster loved Natalie, but he's unhappy with her and they’ll likely split up. She would tell him that he married the wrong woman and he shouldn't suffer, but instead, she picked up her journal and told him, bringing his attention back, "I wrote something about you."

Gail opened a nicely written page from her journal with Buster looking over her shoulder. The page said as it followed; Sure, Buster almost dresses like Chaplin’s tramp character. but what differs between him and Chaplin is that he didn’t need a greasepaint mustache or that certain make-up to make him more ridiculous. What he needed is his stone face. I’m sure he knew he could be funny on his own.

“This is nice,” Buster complimented, “You wrote it better than what I read from the critics.” 

She smiled, “Oh, thank you.”

She patted him in the back, “I don't know what it's like to have parents split up. I imagine how difficult it must be for you. We don't have to talk about your parents unless you feel like it.” 

“Gail,” He placed his hand onto her shoulder, “I still want you in my next film. Although it may not be the leading role you were hoping for, I will make sure your role is valued.”

“I was thinking of asking for a background role, guess you beat me to it!” She giggled, which made Buster smile as it was the first time she had ever laughed in front of him.

When Buster brushed his fingers to her cheek, the sight of his wristwatch enabled him to check it, “I gotta get back to my studio!” they stood up, Gail escorted him to the door as the comedian took one last bite of the cucumber sandwich, he thanked her as they shook hands. Keaton didn’t let it go after they stopped, “May I kiss your hand?” 

Gail didn't hesitate when she accepted. Buster tugged her right hand by the fingers as he bowed to have his lips make contact with her hand for a bit before leaving her home in a hurry. Through the window, Gail watched him get into his car and drive off as she waved.

 After cleaning the table, she sat down on her couch and turned to a page with a photo of Buster as a child and an old article about the Three Keatons which she had gotten from an old family friend. Gail’s eyes fell on the very hand Keaton planted a kiss on and had her hand to her lips, like if he kissed her.

*******************************

Buster didn’t bring up to Gail that Roscoe was getting married in worry that he might jinx it. His former mentor was going to marry Doris Deane almost two months ago. His first wife Minta filed for divorce in Paris as a result, the divorce was not legally binding for weeks according to French law. So it had to be postponed. The Wedding was held in the home of Deane’s mother. The altar was surrounded by flowers. Buster, appointed as the best man, stood beside Arbuckle as the judge officiated the ceremony. Keaton’s eyes went to Natalie, a matron of honor, holding a flower bouquet. It all made him think the last time the Tux wearing Keaton stood on the same altar as his wife was their wedding day. It was in Long Island, They were very much in love. Buster’s ankle was still recovering while he was standing next to Natalie was wearing a white chiffon dress, pure as she was. Right after the wedding, Natalie was congratulated by her friends and family while Keaton was trying to reach his bride, an incident that became the ending scene to Seven Chances. He then took her by the hand and they went into his car to head back to California. Buster regretted it for not including his parents, siblings, and close friends, including Roscoe. At least he got to be present for the time when his former mentor finally went into matrimony for the second time. Keaton grinned when the groom kissed his bride, having the best thing that happened to his friend since his career went downhill following the accusations for the rape that never happened. When it was time for the photographs to be taken the comedian frowned again to maintain his stone face reputation.

Following the ceremony, the guests retreated to a dinner party hosted by Natalie. there was mingling from guests such as Mr. and Mrs. Schenck, Dutch, Peg, and Mr. and Mrs. Lou Anger. 

Buster poured himself a drink from the little table and went outside to clear himself from the crowd.

Keaton took a handful of sips when he heard the groom calling to him, “Here’s to the best man.”

Turning around, he grinned, "I would say the same to you, Chief." he brought another glass, not realizing he already took one, but Keaton grabbed it anyway.

he toasted to his pal, “I wish you and Doris a happy marriage.” At least happier than himself and Natalie.

They clinked the glasses together and drank. Arbuckle noticed his sudden down expression, “Are you thinking of that dame again?”

Buster had told him about Gail every time they met up. “I don’t know, maybe,” Buster said while looking at his drink. “I think she has a crush on me.”

Roscoe wasn’t surprised, “You have a likable face, they fall for you, and you take them to bed next thing.”

“Except we haven’t done anything, we’re just friends.” he had friends that were women, some of them he knew growing up. “Sure we enjoyed each other’s company with her being so compassionate to me. All Nate has done lately is treat me as a prize to show off her friends.” he sipped his glass again, “Still, I appreciated her for being a mother of my boys.”

“Do you like this actress?” he asked, having picked up the glass that buster finished.

“Yes, but I love my wife.” he swirled the liquor when playing around with it, “I already pissed her off a bunch of times. And Gail, she had been through a lot. I cannot be breaking any more hopes from her.”

“The last actress you were with took advantage and almost gave you a black eye.”

“I don’t think Gail would be the person who would hit anyone,” he said while shaking his head. “Besides, she only wanted to be my actress. Whatever happens, at least I had someone to lean on. Besides you Chief.”

“Come on Bus, the dinner is ready.” Roscoe went inside. Before joining him, Buster spotted the moon and imagined Gail’s face on it.

[emotionsofthesoul]

Chapter 36 _ Te Lo Has Ganado

The day of the competition had finally arrived. Juliana was nervous; as were most of the contestants. There were three hundred entires in total but only 50 made it into the actual show. The competition was broken up into two segments. The first was a secret session where the judges would get to view all the pieces as they looked on the mannequin. The second would be the runway show.

The night before the runway show the contestants were to deliver their pieces and set them up on mannequins to prevent them from getting wrinkled. What they didn’t know was that they each had a judge helping them set up their piece.

The students were divided in groups of ten. The first group arrived and Penelope was among them. She was helped by the magazine editor who would be featuring the winning pieces. Josie arrived in the third group and was aided by Lucia who had been asked to be judge by Renata. Juliana arrived in the fifth and last group and had her favorite professor help her, Mr. Contreras.

Once the students had all come and gone, Valentina was summoned by Renata to photograph every piece. Valentina was to print ten copies of each piece for the judges for the following morning. Valentina didn’t get much of a chance to spend time with Juliana on the eve of the competition or the morning of. She did a quick edit of all the images the night before and printed and filed every one with Hope’s help. She and Hope were enamored by each piece.

The competition was to begin at noon. For this occasion Valentina had recommended her friend Jerome to Renata to photograph the event as she would be Juliana’s model.

At 10:00am, Hope Valentina met up with Juliana and the rest of the girls at the loft as planned. Lizzie was to be Josie’s model and Penelope had chosen one of her mothers to be her model. The girls had decided to all get ready together. Penelope’s mothers were there as well since Penelope would be doing her mom’s hair and makeup. Kim, Penelope’s model had fallen in love with the loft and the view from the living room.

“Love of my soul, what do think Zach would say of the view?” Kim asked her wife in a joking yet curious manner.

Trini smiled at her wife adoringly and proceeded to say, “He would say that I’m the luckiest woman alive.”

While all the girls awed, Penelope laughed as Kim blushed and told Trini she meant the view from the window.

Everything was laughter and joy until Valentina received a call from Renata. A call that would change the mood in the entire room. Renata called to inform the girls that there had been an incident with their pieces and they had to make their way to the auditorium as soon as possible to salvage what they could. They still had an hour before the show began.

Juliana’s piece was the first in sight. It had been cut up and there was no way it could be salvaged. The second piece was Josie’s, the white organza fabric had paint splatters in hues of blue. Penelope’s piece was next and it had been cut in half vertically.

The girls dried their tears and got to work. They would save their pieces no matter what it took. The other three contestants affected were not as optimistic and decided to drop from the competition all together.

Valentina drove Juliana home in silence, simply holding her hand. Juliana had been working on three pieces for the show and that narrowed it down to the one that was now ruined. Once inside her apartment Juliana walked to her studio with Valentina in tow. She had been silent since the incident and Valentina knew she could burst any minute now.

“I know who did it.” Was all Juliana said as she packed up the new piece leaving Valentina dumbfounded.

“What do you mean? Who did it? Why didn’t you say anything to Renata?” Valentina asked in an urgent tone.

Juliana finally able to look up at Valentina, tears filling her eyes as an expression of anger took over her beautiful features, said, “Juan Carlos. He was in my delivery group. He walked around eyeing everyone’s pieces and I didn’t like the way he was looking at mine. He had an expression of anger that he quickly masked when he noticed me watching him, but obviously I have no proof it was him.”

“You might not but the cameras had to pick up something, anything. I’ll give Renata a call. Valentina pulled out her phone and dialed Renata’s number telling her what Juliana had said. 

Renata informed her that they were already going through the camera feed. While on the phone they too came upon the culprit and confirmed Juliana’s theory. 

The couple made their way back to the auditorium and upon arrival they saw people already in line ready to take their seats.

Once inside they made their way to Juliana’s cubical to get Valentina ready. The taller girl now wore a beautiful tan ball gown. The dress had fuchsia rose vines running up the right side and making a loop around the waist of the dress and going up the left side to wrap around the neck.

Two cubicles down Penelope was finishing up her piece. She had made a black business suit with a blood red edging along the bottom of the suit jacket and sleeves as well as the bottom of the suit pants. The suit would be accompanied with a white high-neck ruffled blouse. To fix her suit jacket Penelope decided to add buttons along the back where it was cut, in order to add a blood red corset lace. Her mothers were incredibly proud of her quick thinking and ability to work with what she had. The pants were reattached seamlessly and still fit Kim perfectly. Once Kim was all dressed up and ready Trini could not take her eyes off her wife leading their daughter to make a gagging noise to show her fake disgust.

Josie and Lizzie on the other hand had it much easier than Penelope and Juliana. Josie’s dress already had blue in the original design. Similarly to Juliana’s design it had flowers and branches but flowing down from the high-neck. The paint splatters were fixed by Josie, Lizzie, and Hope. They got to work as soon as Juliana and Valentina left to pick up her piece. The girls painted blue roses where the paint had landed. They ended up making 30 roses of different sizes all around the dress. Hope helped Josie get Lizzie in the white and blue dress which made Lizzie’s red lipstick pop. She had her hair in an updo with a tiara. She looked like royalty and Hope knew then and there that Lizzie would look beautiful on their wedding day, one day.

Meanwhile Renata and the judges were taking matters into their own hands in regard to Juan Carlos. Renata and Ricardo pulled him aside to talk, security not far away. They told him he was disqualified and expelled from RIC for playing dirty and to leave without making a scene. They warned him the contestants he interfered with could and should press charges for destruction of intellectual property. Juan Carlos tried to argue that they couldn’t expel him, that he had too much to lose and it was just a prank. He began shouting that it was unfair of them to expel him for a harmless prank. Juliana as well as the other contestants could hear the commotion and she couldn’t help herself. She grabbed her destroyed entry and walked towards him.

“This is harmless? This?” Juliana spout angrily, “This is destruction of property. This was done to keep me from competing. This was done to make sure I had no chance of winning. This was one of six you tampered with. This was my semester’s work. This is not a joke or a prank. This is evil. And I don’t care what you have to lose, you should’ve thought about that before you tried to play God with this competition. It was jus that, a school competition. What kind of petty bastard do you have to be to do what you did? I hope you learn from this and change your ways because life does not have mercy with people like you.”

Juan Carlos was left speechless as Juliana walked away having said what she needed to say and the rest of the people backstage clapped. Thankfully the DJ made sure the music was blasting loud enough that the crowd was not aware of what was occurring. Not long after, Juan Carlos was escorted off the premises by security.

The judges made their way to their seats while Renata went to check on Juliana. She found her in her cubical with Valentina talking to her calmly as she held her. At the sight of Renata and her open arms Juliana got up and hugged her. She thought Renata would scold her but instead she told Juliana that she couldn’t have said it better herself.

Soon after, the models were called to the line and Juliana was amazed with Penelope’s and Josie’s creativity. The designers made their way to their seats once they made sure their models were ready for the runway.

“Ladies and gentlemen, due to unforeseen circumstances 4 of our contestants are unable to participate in today’s runway but the judges did have the opportunity to see their pieces last night and will be including 3 of them in their judgement.” Renata told the audience with a bright smile. “And now, let the show begin!”

Guillermo was in charge of saying the names of the designers and the models as they walked the runway.

Juliana, Penelope, and Josie were seated together and were each holding hands, hoping their last minute changes were well accepted. Their nerves were calming down as the show went on and they began enjoying themselves. They loved being able to see the pieces their peers designed.

As the judges tallied up their points the models were told to return to the stage in order of how they walked out. The judges then asked 5 of the models to step forward 3 of which included Valentina, Kim, and Lizzie.

“Every piece was a work of art. Each and every one of you put all your effort into your design and for that you should all be proud, you did a fantastic job. These five designs stood out the most but every single one of you, who participated should be proud.” Lucia said on behalf of the judges. “I know this competition is supposed to have 3 winners but we wanted to honor the other 2 pieces. On behalf of the judges and with permission of the owner and director of this school, I’m honored to offer you a scholarship for the remainder of your studies at RIC.”

Everyone in the audience gasped and were excited at the news.

“Now without further ado, I have the name of the winners in my hands. First place goes to Ms. Josie Saltzman for such a creative rescue to her piece. With very little time left she able to turn a beautiful gown into a work of art. The roses were a late addition after the unfortunate incident of earlier.” The audience clapped for Josie as Lucia paused for a second. “Second place goes to the brilliant Penelope Park. She too was under tremendous pressure after having her design tampered with but overcame that obstacle with tremendous grace and added the beautiful lace going down the middle.” At that Kim spun slowly so the audience could get a better look at her daughter’s work.

“And lastly it is with great joy that I announce 3rd place, Juliana Valdes, who went above and beyond with her submission. Unfortunately she too was an undeserving victim of the sabotage. She lost her original piece completely as it was ripped to shreds but being the over achiever we all know her to be, she had not one but two back up pieces.” Lucia said with pride in her voice.

Once the group made their way back to the loft with their family to celebrate, Juliana was taken aside by Lucia and handed a glass of champagne. Lucia praised her work and told her that even though the first was ruined the judges had unanimously decided that had it not been for the incident with Juan Carlos and Josie and Penelope’s creativity in such a devastating situation, she would’ve received first place and as such she too was being offered a scholarship for the remainder of her time at RIC.

“I’m honored but why? Who’s funding it?” Juliana asked skeptical crossing her arms as if hugging herself. She didn’t want her life handed to her on silver platter.

Lucia knowing very well that Juliana wouldn’t accept el Grupo Carvajal to sponsor her studies and that she wanted to know it was by her own merit not who she was associated with told her the truth. “The magazine editor, Iliana Castro, said her boss was very impressed with your work. She was in he audience. She asked Renata to show her your portfolio after the show and took it upon herself to sponsor your entire scholarship. At that Renata and I offered to help with half but she wouldn’t have any of it. She wants to meet with you later this week to discuss it.” Lucia said putting her hand around Juliana’s arms. “It’s the least you deserve. You have the talent, the vision. I know you’ll get as far as you want with this. Take every opportunity you think will help advance your future, Juliana. I know you work very hard to pay for your schooling and I admire that but take this as a win. You’ve earned it.”

Juliana was rendered speechless. She had no words to express how she felt. She could only hug Lucia. Looking over Lucia’s shoulder she saw Valentina and Renata watching them from afar. Being filled in on the scholarship, Val had an arm over her very pregnant sister in law’s shoulder smiling widely at her girlfriend.

The party ran well into the night and Juliana spent the evening glowing with pride. Proud of herself and her best friends. Things could’ve been much worse and yet they had prevailed against all the odds.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #367

“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”

Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

06. The Fall Festival

3550 Words, No trigger warnings that I can think of. 

Previous

Grace got ready for the dance with her mother. She wanted her to look like “the belle of the ball” and though Grace thought the gown was a bit much, her mother had always been extra when it came to extravagance, and she learned her lesson about trying to step in with her own opinions on how she should look. Mrs. Monroe had Grace looking like a Disney princess. She hired a professional makeup artist (EVEN THOUGH they both had years of experience Grace from dance recitals, her mother being a beauty queen and socialite). 

After her hair debacle on the train a couple of years prior, a world famous stylist for natural Afrocentric hair had been Grace's beautician. She helped her to grow her hair back, twisted it into locs and was always keeping her stylish with the hottest natural looks.

Mrs. Monroe hovered and fussed over her like she couldn’t get ready by herself, the moment all of the professionals had gone to wait for her final presentation downstairs. Grace wasn't used to that. Her mother never had time for her and even when she was expected to look her best, Mom usually didn't get involved. Grace longed for this and relished in it. She couldn't complain, even though it was stifling.

Whenever Simon came up the fire escape, Grace panicked. Her parents DID NOT know about him doing so, and she was ready to have a complete shutdown seeing him appear in the window while her mom was putting butterfly embellishments in her up-do. Simon froze, and thought about jumping off of the stairway when he saw Mrs. Monroe in there, but once the woman looked at him and smiled, he relaxed and stepped inside. “Hi, Mrs. Monroe. I’m Simon, Grace’s frie-”

“Grace has a school dance tonight, Simon,” she said, not interested in introducing herself. “I’m sure after all of this; she’ll explain to me why her fire escape is open and why a boy is using it for anything but a fire.”

“Simon is my escort, Mom,” Grace said in a voice so small that Simon didn’t even recognize it and could barely hear her. She had NEVER been this quiet in all of the years that he had known her. It was alarming, actually, but within a moment, he realized why.

Her mother stuck another butterfly into her hair, with a hard jab and Grace winced when the pin stuck her in the scalp. “I see,” the woman said.

The pageant smile that she had initially given Simon in her confusion was gone and now, a stone like grimace was there, pointed right at Grace with no warmth or emotion. “Stand.” She commanded, and Grace did so, with military-like precision. The woman led her next to Simon and stood her at his side, took a step back to assess them, then flared her nostrils and raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“But, Mom…” Grace said in that same tiny voice, this time pleading. A single look from the woman silenced her.

“Grace, I did not pay thousands of dollars to make you perfect tonight for you to ruin the entire aesthetic with this shaggy boy in a shabby suit that looks like it costs less than your earrings. I’m sure he’s nice, but do we want nice things for you, Grace?”

“No.”

“What do we want for you, Grace?”

“The best,” she said.

“Alright. Now, I’ll give you a moment to say goodnight and LOCK your fire escape, then hurry down for the pre-dance photo shoot.” Grace’s eyes welled with tears as she looked down at her hands, clasping her dress anxiously. Her mother lifted her chin with her fingertips and said in a sweet voice, but through clenched teeth, “Don’t you dare cry and ruin this makeup job, and let. Go. of. That. Dress!” When she said dress, she jerked away one of Grace’s hands with her free hand and Grace’s other hand quickly followed.

Then, Grace whimpered in her tiniest voice yet, “He’s my best friend.”

Her mother looked at her with a mixture of pity and exasperation and shook her head, “We can discuss that another time.”

Grace took a deep breath and almost magically forced away the tears trying to form in her eyes. Simon was horrified by how frightened the woman made her. What would she do to her if she told her to piss off? He wasn’t going to find out tonight, because Grace stepped in line and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Simon.” She was using that voice that she used with people whenever she was just telling them what they wanted to hear. That was a voice she used with non-essentials, not with him... “I still want to do the whole pumpkin patch thing tomorrow, if you don’t hate me for wasting your time tonight? Maybe my parents will give you money for the train ride home.”

“I’m not going home! My suit may be shabby, but it was the best that I could do and I tried really hard to look nice for you tonight!” His voice was louder than he meant it to be and he knew that her mother could probably hear him, but he had just witnessed the worst thing to happen to him in months (which was already saying a lot) and he just didn’t understand this version of Grace that he had seen tonight.

She smiled, sadly and touched his cheek, “You DO look nice. I love it. I love that you remembered the colors for your accents, and it's very obvious to someone like me, who knows your type of fashion, that you did put a lot of work into this look. But, what I'm telling you is that there is no way that my mother is going to let you get into the car with me and head to the dance, now. I didn’t expect her to be here! But, apparently my first school dance was an event she couldn’t miss, despite missing several other things that I thought should have been pretty dang important...” She dropped her hand and sighed, “I really wanted to go with you tonight, but it can’t happen now. She made that clear to me. I’m sorry, Simon.”

She looked like she might cry again, but she quickly sucked it up and put on a smile. “We can go downstairs together. You don’t have to take the fire escape…”

“What do they do to you? What do they do to you to make you like this? What could they possibly do for you to treat me this way?” He asked, practically pleading.

“They work hard to make sure that I have the best. It’s my responsibility to be my best for them, and they… they… know what’s best.”

“You don’t believe that, Grace! They’re one of the main reasons that we don’t trust adults!”

“Even if I don’t trust them… I have to do what they say! What else can I do? They’re not gonna just leave me alone and let me live my life. Maybe one day, Simon. Just not tonight… Not now...” Simon had tears in his eyes, but Grace was definitely disassociating.

She had to be strong, because she had to present herself to her parents, the pros who put together her look, and the photographer. She had to be perfect whenever she made her entrance. “Goodnight, Simon.” She gave him a playful tap on the cheek, strummed his face with her thumb and left him in the room alone. Simon covered his nose and mouth with both hands and started to cry.

.

The time it took Grace to smile through the photo shoot pretending that she hadn't just sliced her heart into pieces and fed them to her mother, to get the dress safely into the car, and the drive to the dance… Simon had already made it there. The school was closer to Grace's house than his house was, so he just walked. Anger and resentment fueled his pace.

When he arrived, he went to the bathroom to freshen up and get himself together. He slid into the stall with his jacket off, rolled up his sleeve and looked at his arm for a while. He drifted into a daydream.

They were 10, she was in her ballet garb and he was in his vest, shorts, socks and sandals… she was gonna "teach him a few moves," though he couldn't remember why. All he ever remembered about that day was that he couldn’t focus on a single thing that she said to him because she was standing close enough for him to be more concerned about focusing on her features and whenever she was standing behind him, trying to help him get into position, her hands were on his person and she smelled like fruit and flowers. She usually smelled of nice, expensive products and fruit scented lip gloss, but there was something else that he wasn’t as familiar with, though it was very nice. He found out later it was mango butter. She lathered herself in the stuff to moisturize. She didn’t teach him ANYTHING that day but that he wasn’t really into doing ballet, and that she was the prettiest girl that he knew. Always would be. Tonight, they were supposed to dance together again. This time, in front of people. This time… Maybe it wouldn't just be a huge failure, he thought. But, it failed before they ever even made it there. You're never going to be good enough for her.

Simon pulled down his sleeve, put his jacket back on, "You're just as good as anybody else! You're better than most of the people you've ever known!" He hissed, straightening himself out in the mirror.

Then, he went out to get some punch. There was a table of fountains with various fondues and drinks. He remembered that this was his first dance at the academy and that his former jr high bashes would pale in comparison. Everything was SO formal. It reminded him of photos of his parents at a military ball whenever they were first dating… but then add like a million dollars of decorations and stuff.

Whenever he thought about money, his mind went back to Mrs. Monroe's cold features and empty smile. The way she tore him down like he was a null and Grace just LET her.

If his parents ever so much as cut her an ugly look, he'd bludgeon them. She couldn't even tell her mother "no," for him? She'd been so beautiful in that yellow dress, with her goddess locs pulled up and twisted into a cascading bang, a halo crown and sparkling butterflies with jade jewelry and light green and gold accents in her dress, makeup, and hair. Simon didn't even know wtf chartreuse was until he had to try to find "accents" for his suit. He found a tie, a pocket square and socks! He shined his shoes, like he'd seen his father do. He watched videos to learn to tie the tie and fold the square. He'd exfoliated his skin and gelled his stray hairs to try to keep his ponytail neat!

He was sulking into another cup of punch when somebody said, "Is that Grace Monroe?" He turned and the kids made way for her. Her driver helped fix her dress for her entry. She had that fake ass smile plastered on her face, but the moment she saw Simon, it faded. Then, her real smile quickly appeared and she shuffled over to him. "You still came!" She cheered. Everyone else immediately didn't matter to her, but Simon wasn't smoothed over. He was still very much hurt.

"Your mom can control you, not me," he grunted. She put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at it before flicking it off with a harsh brush of his hand. "We're not here together, remember?"

"Obviously, I remember. But, we're still friends… Right?" She stared at the top of his head as he stared into the cup of punch. It was good. Tasted like pineapples and cream with some spritz to it… but it didn't taste good enough to help him avoid this questioning. It'd have to do for now, because there was no way he dared look up to see how she might be looking at him. The feel of her eyes upon him was heavy enough. "What can I do?" She asked in a small voice.

He glanced at her, looking down at her hands and clutching her dress. He sighed and shifted his eyesight to look at the others in the room with them, having fun without a care in the world. Meanwhile, here they were… both obviously miserable. "Nothing," he finally answered, though he didn't look at her again. "You're clearly a powerless kid, just like me. We thought we were so tough because we could win some fights with nulls and really, we're the worthless ones. Your mom proved that tonight. She could care less about specks like us. These kids treat me like I'm something they stepped in, and I can't do anything about it, because my parents can't toss money at administration if I mess up. But, if I get kicked out, my chances of being successful will decrease three quarters. I'll never be rich and powerful, no matter the fact that I deserve it. I deserve it more than anybody else in this room of fakes and flunkies! I'm smart. I'm strong. I'm fearless. I'm tactical. I deserve respect. I deserve the best, too, Grace."

"You do."

"Then why didn't you have my back!?" Now, he looked at her. He deserved an answer.

"Because… I'm… not... those things. I'm not that smart. I just know how to talk to people. I'm… not that strong. I'm just agile and can dodge a lot of danger. And, I think you saw for yourself that I'm not fearless. I'm terrified of my parents seeing any of that. Everything that I'm not. They'll lose the little bit of love that they have got for me and I can't stand to risk it. I guess I just thought that you wouldn't. That... you could take one night of my cowardice and still love me. I was wrong to expect that. You deserve better, but I'm not someone who can give you that. You were always gonna eventually do great things. I was always gonna skate by on my family name." She wiped her eye and looked at her glove to see a little makeup. "I'll leave you alone now…" She was going to go cry over this. Very uglyish and loudish… but Simon caught her wrist.

They looked at each other. Her eyes were asking him why he stopped her when she was giving him his way out, but he knew as well as she should have.. she was absolutely right. He'd love her through anything. He just wasn't going to say that. "We're supposed to open the waltz," he said. His gray eyes were soft on her and she sighed with relief and hurled herself into him for a hug. He held her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Your mom's a monster. And she's got a ton of money. I've never seen you be afraid of anybody else and I shouldn't have attacked you about it." She was now fully crying on his shoulder. "Apex never dies."

She smiled and nodded, "We're on this wild train for life." She stood up straight and they stared at each other. Did… did she see Simon blushing? She touched his chin much like Simon had seen her mother touch hers, which momentarily gave him a little nervousness, but she said, "You know, Socks & Sandals… this outfit really makes your eyes POP! Have… have they always been green?"

"My eyes are gray," he said, blushing even more, but also looking offended.

"Thank goodness! That's what I thought they were before now…" she kept staring though. "They're prettier than I remember. Did you do something?"

"Like eye reconstruction or shapeshifting?" He asked sarcastically. She laughed and he smirked. Then, they made their way to the dance floor. Grace was in his arms most of the night. They took photos together, with "friends," and at the booth, and before dismissal, they ducked out to ditch her driver and jump on the train to head into the city.

Grace peeked into her clutch for her mask and saw several valuables that she knew weren't hers. "Simon… what is all this?" She pulled out watches and jewelry to get to her mask.

"That's stuff I found on assholes at the dance."

She looked at him a moment, like she was judging him; then they both laughed. "Please tell me that at least ONE of these items came from Shana!" He smirked and shuffled through his haul to show her a set of keys with a plushie keychain. "Are these her car keys???"

"Looks like those are all her keys. But the keychain is fruit with a face! We love fruit with a face!" Whenever they got off of the train, Simon removed the keychain and threw the keys to the wheels. He didn't have an issue with Shana, but she had made Grace her rival since the recital years ago, so that meant she was Simon's enemy… and tonight, she'd be stuck at the dance.

"It just occurred to me that a mask won't do much when the rest of me looks like this," Grace said, laughing.

"It JUST occurred to you that a face mask wouldn't hide your very conspicuous ballroom gown?"

"Shut up!" She laughed and held his hand as they ran out of the train station. Both of them stuck their tongues out and flipped the surveillance camera the bird as they did.

She didn’t want to go home. They had been going around the city for hours and she was certain that unlike when she was 10, her parents could care less if she was home, so long as she didn’t embarrass them while she was out there.

So, she and Simon waltzed at the creek in the moonlight, unintentionally inventing inside jokes, lounged around the closed mall, stole some skateboards from someone’s yard and went skateboarding at the boardwalk. Grace was much better at it than Simon, despite the fact that she had never tried before and was wearing a lengthy gown. Simon vowed that he was going to get better than her.

They made their way back to her house and Simon tampered with the lock on the fire escape to let her in. Whenever he successfully broke in she gasped and he said, “You owe me 20 dollars.”

“I did bet you 20 dollars that you couldn’t possibly break into my home…” she said.

“Yep.” He held out his hand and she put his stolen valuables in it. “This was already mine, whenever I took it.”

“Yeah, but I’m taking the 20 I owe you out of it, for having held onto your loot.”

He groaned and stuffed his pockets. “If we’d been searched or something, they would presume that stuff was somehow all yours. Me? Obvious criminal.”

“You pickpocketed like a dozen people at a school dance and just broke into my window. You are a criminal.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that they have a right to suspect me as one!” She laughed and opened the window to climb inside.

Whenever she was on the other side, she turned and smiled at Simon. “Thanks for getting me home safely, Gray Eyes.”

He blushed and she definitely could see it, even in the moonlight. “Of course. Apex sticks together.” He reached out to give her a fist bump, but she rested her hand on his fist, shut her eyes, leaned forward, puckering her lips… like she was going to… going to kiss him. It happened really quickly, so he couldn’t prepare himself properly. It landed on the corner of his mouth and he didn’t know if she meant for it to be there, on his cheek, or directly on his lips. But, he turned slightly for their lips to touch and she gave those a second kiss, then a third. Small pecks, but two on the lips and the first extremely close to them was still... a lot.

They looked at each other a moment, realized that they were holding hands now and pulled them back. “Well, that was a perfectly normal friendship kiss,” Simon said.

“Very platonic affection,” she added, fighting a smile. “We still on for the pumpkin patch tomorrow?”

He nodded and smiled as he went down the stairs and she locked up after him, then watched him skateboard away on the board he had. Gray Eyes… That had to be his favorite nickname that she’d ever randomly given him.

Grace looked down at her frazzled dress, filthy at the seam and torn and dirty in other places. She looked in the mirror, traced her fingertips across her lips that she had just so BOLDY used to kiss Simon and she laughed, climbing into bed to go to sleep without a shower or anything. He had kissed her back. She giggled about it. She giggled herself to sleep...

Next

[mcwriting]

London boy

Hi guys! I’m back with a lil quarantine pick me up! It’s been sooooo long so it felt good to write again. I’m almost done with this semester so I’m hoping I can do more writing soon. All this being said, make sure to check my note at the end about a possible part 2 and let me know what you think! Love y’all!

*Also PSA I’ve never been to London unless Heathrow airport counts so I tried to do my best research but sorry if things are wrong*

Fandom: Tom Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x y/n

Setting: Begins in Nashville, TN but mostly takes place in London

Word Count: 2299 (whew)

Warnings: Alcohol consumption? I can’t think of any others. It’s mostly fluff

Rating: Like a K or something

$

You were hanging out on Broadway St.

No, not the one in New York. The one in Nashville, Tennessee.

It was a place filled with great live music, dancing all night long, and lots and lots of alcohol. 

You and some friends had gone out to a particular bar that another friend’s band was playing at, all dressed up in ripped up jean shorts, riding boots, and a cute cowboy hat.

As you all waited for them to get on stage, you ordered a round to loosen up a bit, you getting some Jack Daniels on the rocks.

That local flavor would forever be your first choice, especially compared to the tequila shots some of the girls chose instead.

$

Tom Holland, Harrison Osterfield, and some of their buddies strolled down Broadway, too.

Tom’s newest project was set in the city and a long day of filming called for letting loose for the night and getting to know a little bit more of Nash culture.

They came upon one place where a band was playing a Bruce Springsteen song, so they headed in, beelining to the bar. 

As they waited for their own drinks, Tom turned his head to look around when he caught a glance of you, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. 

You were coolly half sitting-half leaning on a barstool, sipping your drink as you soaked in the music. Your friend’s band always sounded great, but you decided to scan the room to see how other people were reacting. 

You turned your head, the big curls in your hair flipping over your shoulder. As you looked straight down the bar you caught eyes with a brunette man laughing with his friends, face going slack as he stared back at you. 

You looked him up and down, not taking much time to study his face, then smiled and turned back to the band. 

Please come over here you thought, trying to not look again.

Tom turned to his group.

“Do you see that girl? That’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen!”

“Well then go on you div, make a conversation,” Harrison said as the others gassed Tom up, too.

The guys pushed him around a bit as he bounced up and down on his toes, trying to hype himself up.

A few moments later you saw a male figure approach from the corner of your eye. You had planned to flirt with him, but the second you turned to say something, you froze.

It was Tom. Holland.

You both stared at each other silently for a second, both surprised, until finally he spoke up, his accent clearly British among the southern Nashville drawls around you.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw you across the bar and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, and it took a moment before you found words to reply.

“I- thank you. You’re Tom Holland, right?” you asked incredulously.

It was his turn to blush and look at the ground. He nodded his head, a cute smile lighting up his face.

“That’s me. Now would you mind the honor of teaching me how to dance like the tennesseans?”

It took no thought to take his hand and tear up the dance floor that night.

$

It had been almost 3 years since you’d met Tom that in Nash. A night of dancing and drinking had led to you going back to his hotel that night. 

Nothing had actually happened between you though, because you were both too drunk and sleepy to do anything but crash on top the bed.

It had, however, sparked the beginnings of an amazing romance, where in the present, you were strolling down Camden Market looking at art, clothing, and jewelry as you tried to decide where to grab food.

Hands held tightly together, you both decided to stop for a moment to look over the canal, but you instead focused your attention onto his face that glowed in the sunlight.

He turned to you and did the same, both of you grinning like kids when your eyes met. 

“Oh how I love that American smile of yours,” he breathed.

“I fancy you too, darling,” you returned, heart full. 

$

On your first trip to London, he’d taken you to Highgate, where some of his childhood friends lived. Of course you already knew Harrison, Tuwaine, and Tom’s brothers (considering most of them had been there the night you met), but you’d been nervous to make a good impression.

It wasn’t long until you were jumping into their conversation and joking too, as if you’d all been friends for years.

You and Tom had only been dating about 6 months by this point, and had somehow kept the relationship secret from the public, so it felt nice to be introduced as his girlfriend.

You’d gone into the kitchen to refresh your drink when Harrison followed behind. 

“You really love him, don’t you?” he asked out of nowhere, “at least, that’s what we all think.”

You paused to think.

I guess the rumors are true...

$

Another trip about a year into the relationship and you’d learned to love high tea, listening to stories from Tom’s days in acting and carpentry schools, and the West End.

It was hard to believe every time you went to a show that in days past, Tom had been on that stage, too. 

You’d also spent time at the pubs with him and the boys, sometimes watching rugby, other times playing pub quizzes. 

There were also times that you went out dancing. It was a whole different world from line dances and country music, but over time it felt just as natural.

$

In the present, your time around the market had been ended early as clouds darkened and turned to gloomy rain. 

It didn’t really bother you though, because as the cab took you through the city, you saw the lights glow and illuminate the glistening buildings you’d come to love.  

“I’m sorry we had to cut the day short, love,” Tom whispered, squeezing your hand with his. 

“Are you kidding?” you beamed, “I’ve had so much fun today! We got to explore the heart of the city, go shopping at the market, and eat great food. Plus, now we can go with everyone to that teahouse I love. What more could a girl ask for?” 

“God, I love you,” he grinned as you leaned on his shoulder to look back out the window, distracting yourself for the long ride back to his house.

$

About a year and a half of dating, and you’d come to visit Tom while he was filming a movie at the Warner Bros. studio in Watford. 

Since he was filming up north, you chose to rent a hotel in the heart of the city so Tom could stay closer to work (and therefore have more time with you).

Most of the nights he could, you’d go club in Brixton. Afternoons off were spent in Shoreditch trying restaurants and looking at art. You also got to see his buddies from Highgate again, joking and having fun just as before.

By now, your relationship was public and of course the paparazzi was often trying to photograph you, but you didn’t really mind it. It was nice getting to show the world just how in love you were with this boy.

$

For your two year anniversary, Tom had flown you out to the city for a romantic getaway, where instead of staying at his house like usual, he paid to have you stay in a royal suite at a 5 star hotel in the heart of London, overlooking the river. 

You spent the trip mostly to yourselves, not going out to the pubs at night like usual, instead choosing to have private dinners or go to nice restaurants. 

He took you shopping around Bond St, showering you with expensive things that you of course didn’t need (and had to buy a second suitcase to haul), but the gesture alone was the nicest thing a boyfriend had done for you.

Of course, you also visited with his family and had a nice time with all of them, but spending private time with Tom was the best of all.

The place you stayed made you feel like a queen (it was royal after all), and it fit the way he could never help but call you his Tennessee queen.

The lingerie he’d gotten you also came in handy, because when you emerged from the bathroom wearing only that, he would say in a husky voice, 

“Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time,” before you’d do exactly that.

$

In the present, you were back at Tom’s place, preparing for dinner with his family when he called you to the backyard.

The rain had let up, leaving a lovely sunset sky, which is what you were expecting him to talk about once you came to the back porch.

“Wow, that’s pretty,” you stated, snapping your hoop earring shut to complete your look for the night. 

Tom had said it would be a nice dinner, so you’d put on the soft pink dress he had bought earlier that day the second you said you loved it and some matching heels. You had also spent time curling your hair and doing some makeup, wanting to look and feel good.

“You look more beautiful than a thousand sunsets,” he whispered back, causing you to blush as pink as your dress. You gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

“What did you call me out here for? Shouldn’t we head out soon?”

“Right, yeah. I got distracted there for a second,” he chuckled before continuing, “Y/n, do you remember the night we met?”

“Of course. I’ll keep that day burned into my memory until the day I die.”

“Well, that night I told my mates that you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and it’s still true. I don’t regret a single thing about the past 3 years of loving you.”

Your heart began to pound and you tried to steady your breathing. Was this it? Was this what you thought it was?

God, I hope so a voice in your head was screaming.

He took your hands in his and squeezed them. 

“Y/n L/n, I love you so dearly. I’ve probably loved you since the night I took you back to my hotel and I woke up to find you laying atop my bed and just didn’t realize it then.”

He began to bend his knees and reached a hand into his pocket, butterflies now rising in your stomach like nothing before.

“I want to love you for the rest of my life. Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” His hands held open a box with the most perfect ring you’d ever seen.

Tears welled up in your eyes and a watery smile rose to your face. You were speechless, so at first all you could do was nod, then finally you exclaimed,

“YES!”

Both of your hands were shaking as he slipped the ring onto your left hand, and then he stood up, pressing you into a deep kiss. 

You were on cloud nine.

You heard shouts behind you, breaking the kiss to see Harrison and Tuwaine cheering and recording on their phones. 

“Wait a second, where’s Harry?”

Nearby, a bush rustled and out stepped the twin, camera in hand.

“You guys all really planned this for me?” you asked, elated.

“Anything for you, babe. I was worried that it would be ruined by the rain, but it looks like things worked out just right,” he answered.

You stared down at the ring, still not quite believing everything, but your gaze eventually fell down to your watch.

“Well, I hate to kill the mood, but I’m so hungry I don’t know what to do with myself, and it’s time to go anyways, so let’s get out of here!”

$

You rode in Tom’s car while the other boys piled into Harry’s. They arrived first and were waiting at the door when you arrived. 

“Alright, follow us, we have a private room,” Haz said, the three boys leading you and Tom that way. 

You had a feeling the dinner was an engagement celebration, but had no expectation of what happened next.

The doors opened to tons of people yelling “Congratulations!” while holding cute balloons and champagne glasses. You scanned the room and were happy to see Tom’s family and friends from London and home, including the one’s that had been there that night in Nashville.

The most surprising thing, however, was your family. You hadn’t seen them in almost a month due to work and travel, so immediately you ran into their arms.

“She said yes, by the way!” Tom exclaimed happily, causing another round of cheers from the crowd.

“I can’t believe you all came!” you said to everyone, especially towards your US friends. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a real engagement if we didn’t celebrate with something special,” one friend said. 

“What do you mean?” 

With that, she plopped a hat onto your head. You pulled it off, confused until you got a good look at it. It was the hat you were wearing the night you met Tom. 

“We were gonna bring the boots and booty shorts, too, but I think what you’ve got goin’ on is a little classier,” another friend piped up, garnering laughs from your friend group. 

You pressed the hat back over your head, not caring if it squished the curls you’d gotten to lay perfectly not too long before.

“Well, then. Let’s get this rodeo started!” you exclaimed, gathering yet another of many cheers you and Tom would receive that night and for years to come.

$

A/N: Omg guys. I did it. I wrote something new. I’m thinking about making this a two shot, where the second part is more from Tom’s perspective and explores his visits to the US and I’ll call it Nashville Girl. Idk if any good songs exist that would tie in but whatever. 

Anyways, love you all and thank you for your continued support! Please stay safe and STAY HOME!

[trickstermiraculous]

Our Past Mistakes Teach Us Lessons On How To Improve In The Future

Summary: Alya regrets what she and the class did when they were still in high school due to Lila's lies. Hopefully, at this reunion they can set things straight again.

Author’s Note: I wanted to take a crack at a reunion fic

Alya had it tough when she graduated high school. She went straight to Uni learning more on journalism but during a lesson on fact-checking, her teacher used her own blog as an example. Alya was still friends with Lila at this point along with most of the class except for Adrien, Chloe (of course), Marinette and Kitty Section so when she had her own work ripped to pieces by her professor, she quickly went to the group chat, demanding answers from Lila and explaining to the rest of the class what just happened to her.

Their friend group dropped Lila quickly and spent the next few months feeling guilty when realizing all the relationships they had ruined thanks to Lila. Marinette was no longer Alya’s friend but even then Alya tried to apologies to her only to find out her number was blocked and Marinette’s parents wouldn’t tell her where she lived now but luckily did agree to pass on her apologies which she never got a response, something she had expected.

Alya and the class didn’t bother with Adrien since they knew that he most likely had Nathalie block them from talking to him in any way. Kitty Section actually answered but it was the sharp response of ‘we are glad you finally came to your senses but we do not forgive you for what you did to Marinette or the rest of us’, it made sense and the class understood that they weren’t going to change their minds.

After Lila had gone from Alya’s life, she focused on getting her credibility back by pulling Lila’s interviews, publicly apologising to the many celebrities that Lila had lied about and focused her attention on going back through her blog making sure that every single one had the evidence to back her up. Some of her best articles had to go since there were no facts to back her up.

Slowly, Alya was getting her credibility back and luckily by the time she graduated her University, she was working at TVi News under Nadja Chamack. Focusing her articles on Akumas and the heroes as that’s where her experience of being a reporter came from and considering the many lies about celebrities she posted on her blog, no one at TVi News wanted to risk her angering more celebrities.

Alya was glad that her life was back in order so that she could come to this reunion head held high. Alya and her husband Nino who was a professional Radio DJ was catching up with Max who was working as an engineer for the government and Kim who was set to be on the French Olympic Swim Team this year when three members Kitty Section walked through the door.

Ivan was wearing a plain black suit with a red tie and two silver studs on the sleeves. Rose was dressed in pastel pink skater dress, black boot heels that had pink ribbons as laces, a silver stud earring paired with a dangling feather earring, a silver ring that had a purple jewel and her hair had now gotten long enough to be put up in a simple low bun. Juleka was dressed in a dark purple halter dress that was floor-length, black heels, the same earrings as Rose but the feather was purple, the same silver ring but had a pink jewel, a lace scarf that was purple and her long hair was plaited.

“Rose, Juleka” exclaimed Alya as the walked closer to her group, “it’s a pleasure to see you again”,

“We could say the same thing Alya” respond Juleka dryly,

“It’s good to see you are all doing well” continued Rose with a more cheerful tone,

“Yeah, I heard Kitty Section was going one tour, right?” question Nino,

“Yep, we going to collab with Jagged on this one” answered Rose.

The conversation confined like this for the next twenty minutes with other classmates joining them, in that time we found out that Rose and Juleka were married to each other and Kitty Section had gone on several tours since graduation. Apparently, their dresses had been made by one of the top designers in the fashion industry, MDC who was a close friend of theirs.

The doors to the hall opened again this time revealing Chloe who looked like a model which was expected of her, being the Mayor’s daughter, she was all about looks. She was dressed in a gold slit dress that had a black honeycomb pattern at the bottom of the dress, a black clutch bag that had a gold lock, a gold bee bracelet and her hair was loose with a small plait at the back.

Next to her was Adrien who still looked like model. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark green tie that had a single paw print at the bottom, dark green shoes, the same silver ring he uses to wear in school and his hair was now spiked side part.

Then the last one of the trio was Marinette who looked like a model and didn’t look a day over 20. She was dressed in a red and black empire waist dress, black tights, red heals, a red-black clutch bag and she had a pixie cut along with the same stud earrings that were from her high school day.

They quietly chatted while making their way over. “Marinette” exclaimed Rose hugging the girl tightly,

“If it isn’t the royal trio” stated Ivan,

“Good to see you again Ivan” laughed Adrien,

“Hello to you all as well,” said Chloe looking people up and down,

“It’s nice to see you again dudes” spoke Nino,

“Yes, it is” continued Alya hoping to break the awkward tension.

“Oh Alya, I got the message you gave my parents” respond Marinette, “I would have responded but work got in the way”,

“Oh it’s alright, I would have understood if you didn’t want to reply” replied Alya rubbing the back of her neck,

“Well ok, then but my response is that I forgive you and I would like us to start on a new leaf, that goes for all of you” stated Marinette with a smile.

That response alone caused most of the class’s jaws to drop and Alix choked on her drink. “You want to…” started Alya but Marinette cut her off, “forgive you, yes as I’m not one to hold a grudge and we were teenagers, teenagers that make mistakes”,

“Don’t mistake Mari forgiveness for allowing you all to treat like you did before that lier, you have to work on this forgiveness” snapped Chloe picking at her nails,

“Chloe” sighed Adrien,

“What it’s true Adrikins” respond Chloe.

The class watched the two bicker like siblings, not noticing someone else arriving. “Marinette, what a surprise! I didn’t expect you to come to the reunion” spoked a girl who Alya recognised as Lila, walking towards the group.

Lila had unfairly aged as she looked like a model and was dressed in a one-shoulder amber dress, beige tights, amber heels, a beige scarf and gold ring with a giant diamond in the middle. Lila had luckily changed her sausage hairstyle to a bob cut but she was wearing too much makeup for an event like this.

“Rossi, I could say the same to you” respond Marinette, the tone in her voice made the room temperature turn ice cold in seconds,

“Well why wouldn’t I come back to the school that gave me so many good memories” replied Lila causing Adrien to growled along with Kitty Section giving her dirty looks,

“Good memories, you mean memories of you ruining this class” snapped Sabrina, the girl had become bolder after Lila’s lies being revealed and had expressed her plans to ruin the women if she ever shows her face around the class again.

“It’s not my fault that you all were to lazy to fact check, I would expect it from a class with a famous reporter and a teenager who built a working AI something most adults struggle to do” stated Lila with a sneer, “by the way how is your career going? Alya”,

“Good actually considering I have a job working for TVi as one of the Akuma reporters” Alya snapped as Nino placed his hand on her shoulder to stop his wife from wringing the lier’s neck.

“How lucky but are you sure it wasn’t from Marinette’s connection with their head reporter?” questioned Lila,

“Rossi, I would like to remind you that just because I didn’t sue you for your previous lies does not mean I wouldn’t do it now” replied Marinette,

“My fiancee doesn’t interfere with anyone’s job opportunities other than a recommendation and considering her and Alya haven’t spoken since graduation, Marinette had no responsibility in the fact she was hired” snapped Adrien clearly done with Lila’s bullshit,

“Oh right, of course, Adrien I didn’t mean to offend” respond Lila backing away from the blond.

“Right” sneered Chloe, “how’s your husband by the way?”

“We’re doing great thanks for asking” answered Lila with a fake smile,

“Really because that’s not what the press has been saying” replied Chloe,

“Well the press lies, I thought you would know that considering what happened with Lady Blog” respond Lila,

“You caused that Lila so quite frankly leave our classmates out of the argument” retorted Chloe, making the class gasp in surprise since Chloe never once showed she cares for the class when they were teens so it was surprising for her to do it now.

“Chloe I hoped you would know better than to argue at the school reunion,” a woman said in that sounded as fake as it did when she taught the class. Time was not kind to Miss Bustier with her greying hair, dark shadows under her eyes and having quite a few wrinkles.

“Buzz off Miss Bustier” snapped Chloe, the women glared at the blonde and looked over at Marinette for help.

“Don’t look at me Miss Bustier, I don’t control Chloe” said Marinette raising an eyebrow,

“I thought you and Chloe would have a better attitude by this point and not attack Lila” respond Miss Bustier clearly not listening to what Marinette had said,

“First, Rossi verbally attacked us first so we were just defending our fellow classmates and second, considering how cutthroat the fashion industry is, we take it seriously when interacting with someone known for their lies” snapped Adrien.

“Fashion industry?” questioned Nino,

“Well yeah, Adrien still works as a model with MDC but also works as a photographer, Chloe does the business side of MDC label and I’m MDC” stated Marinette giving Miss Bustier a sharp look,

“so yes we work in the fashion industry and this is not the first time Lila try to get people we know into trouble since she managed to get quite a few models from the Gabriel brand fired or at least that’s what people say” continued Chloe smirking at Lila who was clenching her teeth in anger.

“Well rumours are rarely ever true” stuttered Miss Bustier,

“If it involves Lila I doubt it” muttered Rose which surprised Miss Bustier,

“Rose-” she was cut off by Sabrina quickly as the girl glared at her old teacher,

“We all research her lies after graduation and none of them was true so I doubt any of us are really going to trust Lila especially with how often she made up rumours about Marinette” the girl snapped,

“Researched?” questioned Miss Bustier,

“Yeah, the thing you and Mr Damocles should have done from the start instead of taking sides of the rich students” replied Adrien,

“I don’t take the sides of students just because their rich” retorted Miss Bustier,

“Chloe who was the daughter of the mayor and Lila daughter of a diplomate, you took there side in every argument they were in and punished the victim which just so happened to be Marinette” Adrien stated with a blank stare.

“I...I…” Miss Bustier trailed off not knowing how to respond,

“Anyway we haven’t come to argue with our past enemies, we came to reconnect,” said Marinette with a smile,

“Good point, who wants to meet up again at a later date,” asked Adrien holding his phone, several members said yes and we began exchanging phone numbers ignoring Miss Bustier who quickly scurried over to the other teachers and Lila who quickly got annoyed with people not paying any attention to her even when she snapped angrily at us. She eventually stomped her foot which caused her heel to brake and luckily Marinette caught her before she hit the floor but Lila shoved her away and stormed out the hall.

We spent the rest of the evening chattering about our jobs and lives like we used to before Lila came even Chloe was acting kind. Eventually, the night came to an end and we all went home but luckily everyone kept their promise of meeting up again.

Soon enough our friendship returned to how it once was and was stronger than before.

Author’s Note: This story was a pain to finish since I wrote most of it on a whim but I wanted to finish it soon as I knew it would bug me to no end if I didn't finish before anything else. Also, I haven't written in a while due to writer's block and me watching the entirety of Katekyo Hitman Reborn in four day which by the way is a really good anime that more people should watch. Hopefully, since this is finished I can write more for my other stories soon.

AO3     Wattpad

[slothgiirl]

gonna put you off (alex turner oneshot)

alex turner/age difference!reader oneshot in which you are visiting your boyfriend in london from the midlands

You take the last train of the night down to london. Traces of stage makeup still clinging to your skin as you collapse into the seat, a few days clothes tucked into a duffle bag with the tackiest floral print you'd though was chic when you'd seen it at a thrift shop, but had been on many flights with you since, sticking out among a sea of black and navy. As the clock strikes eleven, feeling very much like cinderella as you wipe the remains of the makeup away, the train whizzes past dark countryside, too dark to make out anything. 

In two hours you'd be in London. In two hours you'd be with Alex again. You're still wearing a leotard under your many layers of leggings and sweatpants topped with a turtleneck, flannel, and jacket--in that order. Not remotely like the fashionable girl you'd felt having been dressed by Simone Rocha. It helped that you'd been dressed. 

After years in ballet, most of your wardrobe consisted of warm and practical cotton clothes to shepard you to and from rehearsal. You couldn't give a damn about what you were wearing when you were waking up before sunrise. You'd much rather be warm and not pull a muscle thank you very much. At some point, somewhere in the midlands, you fall asleep. Exhausted to the bone from a weeks worth of shows and only three days to recover. Though you'd probably fit in a few hours of practice during your stay with Alex. 

The announcement for King's Cross wakes you up, a crick in your neck from napping while sitting. You scramble to stuff your headphones into your pocket and grab your bag as you hurry to get off. It's past one in the morning. There's no crowds for you to push through in order to depart, but the sleep-full grogginess gives way to electric anticipation. You have to force yourself not to run off the train. Because Alex. 

You'd seen him just last week. 

He was coming up to Birmingham this week. 

But it didn't matter. You couldn't deny the giddy happiness that you get at the thought of your boyfriend. It was so different from the calm resolve that made you dance for ten hours. Or the serene delight when you twirled about on stage, the heat of the lights blinding you to the audience leaving only room for perfection, one step at a time. 

Just as the train is mostly empty. So it the platform. 

So is the station. 

It's easy to spot Alex, in dark jeans and an equally dark leather jacket, a bouquet of roses in his arms. 

You suck in a breathe, consciously having to stop yourself from speed walking as a smile breaks out on your lips. This is a perfect day in your eyes. "Alex," you tell him, still a couple of steps away. 

His gaze mets yours, the grin on his well formed mouth complimenting yours, as Alex wraps his arms around you and wow is the station freezing. You hug him right back, not caring that you're in public when you reach up to cup his cheek, pressing your lips to his, savoring the taste of him in your mouth. 

" 'ello love," he whispers against your lips. "I take it you had a good show?"

"It was great," you admitt, hands around his neck as you lean back and drink the sight of Alex in. Unlike you, he definitely got enough sleep last night. You've probably been awake for sixteen hours at this point. "but I won't lie. I'm looking forward to these three days off."

Alex laughs. "I brought you flowers," he notes with too much casualty as pink sneaks its way into his cheeks. But he doesn't make to pull away, and the flowers are much forgotten in his grip as you gaze into each others eyes. 

"Thank you," you reply, the happiness bubbling up into your voice. 

"Do ya wanna get outta here," he asks, smile shifting into as smirk as his dark eyes full of the nights promise meet yours. 

"Yes please," you demure, unable to help yourself and add, "I need more tubs of tiger balm than you use of gel right about now."

Alex takes your bag, letting you carry the bouquet as you both get a cab to his flat. His hand never leaving yours. 

** *

Your ballet friend's older cousin, who'd bought alcohol for you both when you were still in high school and incredibly sleep deprived trying to juggle school and dance, works for some company that does PR for a couple of fashion brands. You're not really sure about all the connections, but when she hears you're moving to England--England not London-- she sends you a dm. 

Want to go to fashion week. 

You think Julia might have told her about your plans for after ballet, because as much as yo loved dancing and it was your career right now, like with most sports, it wasn't a long career. But again, you're not sure and seeing as she offered and you don't know anyone else in the entire country, you reply yes. Twenty isn't that young of an age to leave home at. There's lots of ballet stories about young kids leaving at 11 or 13. It isn't any less daunting to leave everyone you know behind. But Birmingham meant a job contract, a steady job. A rarity in dance. 

So you somehow find yourself sitting third row at Simone Rocha, filling in the seats behind celebrities and Anna Wintour. It's like something out of a dream. You wear a dress from the last collection that's worth more than your paycheck and try not to spill anything on it as you get invited by the man sitting next to you, Pierre with three dangly earrings in one ear, skin as rich as creme brulee's crust.

He takes one look at you and says, "new?"

You laugh, caught like a fish out of water, "yeah. I'm still not sure how they even let me in."

"Because you're a size 0," he jokes, which isn't true but you have that toned look that makes you appear slim, exchanging instagram's before the show, then taking you out for a night on the town like you're the latest it bag. It's nice. And easy. You drink beer, and make faces, trying not to think about how awful you'll feel in the morning. You meet writers and buyers, head spinning as you network between drinks and house music, feeling wobbly in heels the way you never would in pointe shoes. Pierre takes you out on the dance floor, where models tower over you. 

Photographs don't do them justice. But instead of feeling insecure the way all those carefully edited selfies do, you just appreciate the edge they each have. The perfect girl next door, all heart shaped face. The perfect cold scandinavian poise, every feature perfectly complimenting each other and poreless HD skin that no amount of makeup could hope to achieve. Like you, having put years into making dancing on pointe seem effortless and painless, they've just perfected their natural beauty. 

And being five one means you have no hopes of being a model. 

Pierre grins shamelessly after making eyes with some photographer in a sequined blazer in some Bahaman themed club, over his latest cocktail, "do hit me up," before disappearing into the crowd. 

You snort into your drink, trying not to feel out of depth. 

In three days you'll be back to your usual routine, settled in at a new studio. Seattle had been home for so long, had been where you first wore pointe shoes and learned to bang the sound out of the wood, smacking each pair of shoes as you all groaned about the piles of homework waiting for you at home.  

You should go. 

Another man slides into the space Pierre had left behind. He's handsome in a classically english way, hair quiffed like some 50s greaser or maybe you'd just thought the 50s were exactly how Grease depicted them. Either way, hot. Unlike most people out and about in during fashion week, his outfit isn't outrageous, trying to attract street style photographers, or a fit for the gram. 

But there's still something sharp about his well fitted blazer and carmine dress shirt,  confidently wearing sunglasses indoors. 

He catches you looking, and without missing a beat, you lie, "sorry my friend ran off with some guy and I was waiting to see if I'd been ditched or not."

You play it off, trying to sound cool and not like you are completely lost and contemplating going home before one in the morning like a loser. You'd already missed out on house parties to the nutcracker and swan lake. You weren't about to let this night go to waste just because you didn't know anyone. 

He smiles, taking a drink from his whiskey, the line of his shoulders relaxing. 

Maybe he thought you were some fangirl. 

There were plenty of famous people here who probably wanted to avoid being hounded while they were just trying to party. 

"Do ya want another drink," he asks, nodding at your empty glass. 

"Sure," you reply lamely. It's not so surprising when he leads you of the club, your hand in his. "So its your fist day in london," Alex parrots, glancing back at you, just to make sure. 

"Yeah," you nod, grinning like an idiot and it wasn't just the alcohol in your bloodstream. Alex's smile could make any girl weak in the knees, you were sure of it. Plus that swagger. You finally understood the meaning of swagger. "Got of plane a couple of hours ago. haven't even seen Buckingham palace."

"No," he shakes his head. 

"I'm serious. I had to head straight to Rocha and get my outfit and makeup done. First time getting my makeup done actually. Found out I've been doing my foundation wrong for years," you ramble on, internally wincing. No one wanted to hear about foundation especially not men you'd only met an hour ago. And Alex was definitely a man, not like the boys you'd gone to high school with and laughed when your health teacher went over a diagram of a vagina. "so no, I haven't seen any london-y things."

"Well we can't have that," Alex utters, flagging a cab down habitually, somehow lighting a cigarette at the same time. 

"To Buckingham Palace through Piccadilly Circus," he tells the cab driver as you both slid in. "Traffic'll be hell though."

"The company's not bad," you comment, watching as his eyes crinkle up from laughter. It softens the line of his face, revealing the baby face beneath the pomade and gel. 

"So what brings you to london," he asks. 

"Work," you admit, your gaze leaving Alex for the first time since you'd laid eyes on him as you watch the city go by. It's a slow crawl as you hit the center of London, views you recall from movies, "Birmingham National Ballet offered me a contract.  I'd be stupid not to have said yes. So I'm just in London for a few days."

"In a very nice dress," Alex says, voice thick in a way that has blood pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

"In a very expensive dress," you add, "that I made sure to take lots of selfies in earlier before I have to return it tomorrow. 

"So ya dance for the posh people."

"Yes," you groan, "and no one thinks it's a real job. Or sport!"

Alex chuckles, smirking, "I've watched Black Swan. I know it's fookin' hard." "2009 was a very good year for ballet." Granted you were too young for anything other than the child parts in The Nutcracker, but still. "What about you?"

He's about to reply, the lights of Piccadilly Circus, still full of life at one in the morning, filling your eyes, when the cabbie interrupts. 

"He's in the arctic monkeys," the cabbie says, taking his eyes off the road. You peel your gaze off the window and turn back to Alex, and his admittedly expensive attire, "Oh so you're actually famous famous?"

He looks down bashfully, nothing like the confident greaser air he put on, "ya could say 'that." 

"Would I have heard-"

"One of our songs," Alex continues, "probably. Me mate says we're properly overplayed now."

"Well you're no One Direction," you counter, teasingly. 

You spend the rest of the night making out in front of Buckingham Palace's fountain, before you invite Alex back to yours. 

** *

Alex laughs as you peel off another layer, laying on his bed, only to uncover another moth eaten sweater. It was annoying when all you wanted was Alex's hips against yours. "Patience love," he manages, but you can hear the want in his voice. 

"Don't be an ass," you counter, "or I'll suddenly remember how tired I am." In response, his lips meet yours, shoving back any intention of sleep away as your skin burns with want, his tongue exploring your mouth, hands abandoning any pretense in favor of shoving your sweatpants down.

"Of course there's leggings," he half groans, half moans against your lips, breathlessly. 

You giggle, pulling your shirt off, "wait until we get to the leotard."

"Can't they have those buttons babies onesies have," Alex mutters, tugging off his shirt. 

"Would be awfully convenient," you admit. There was no sexy way to take a leotard off, but apparently no one had told Alex that, because his hands are helping you tug the leotard down your thighs, fingers leaving burning trails on your skin as he goes, sucking kisses down your neck. 

You moan, closing your eyes in bliss. 

" 'm genuinely surprised your not wearing of these things," he mutters against the crook of your neck. 

"Oh take your jeans off already for fucks sake," you retort, trying to act like your voice isn't all choked up. 

Alex chuckles, but does as you ask, his dark gaze meeting yours as he unbuttons his jeans painfully slow, sitting up between your thighs. It's hot and all, but you are horny. You're twenty, and so turned on, having lost your shoes in the hall. A coat in the living room. 

You reach for him, your hands deliberately brushing against his cock, before helping him tug them down his hips. 

"I'm flattered," Alex teases, voice hoarse. 

"Oh," you counter, when you finally get him out of his boxers, "I see, you think this is about you," you tell him, cupping his jaw as he presses down against you, his hips meeting yours, his fingers brushing against your core. And then you aren't thinking very clearly at all, pleasure taking over as Alex's nimble fingers elicit the most debauched moans out of your lips. 

Callused fingers slid into you as he nips at the skin of your collarbone, knowing exactly where the rub to make you see stars. Yours hands wrapped around his neck, keeping him close, wanting him and only him. And- "There. there there," you manage, aware of how wet you were, toes curling. 

His other hand digs into your hipbone, as you writhe beneath him. 

You whimper at the loss of his touch. At the loss of his fingers curling so deliciously inside you. 

You can feel how hard his cock is, on the inside of your thigh, wet with precum and your breath hitches when he enters you, Alex pressing his lips hard against yours, kissing you with all the passion and lust you'd both laughed around earlier, like it would take the sting of separation away, hand still wet with you as he twists his fingers in your hair.  

He's anything but patient as he trusts into you now, his body meeting yours. Your legs wrapping around his waist, that little extra in the angle as he thrusts into you, has you whimpering into his mouth. Your eyes flutter shut as you hold him near, his pace relentless. 

So. 

Worth. 

Taking. 

The. 

Midnight.  

Train. 

"come for me, love," Alex manages, voice cracking, lips bruising your own. The reunited with your long lost lover bruising kiss that you'd thought only existed in movies. 

You come with a shudder, exhausted, satisfied, in that afterglow, stars dancing across the back of your eyelids as you lean back limply into the bed. Alex coming seconds after, collapsing onto the other sider of the bed, spent. You don't care about anything after that. 

Having been awake for eighteen hours. 

A good fucking day. 

** *

You wake up to thirty six missed messages. Mostly from Pierre and Vivian, your fellow corps ballerina you'd told you where all the cheap AND good bars were in Birmingham were. 

They're all along the same lines. 

Links to articles like, "Black Swan for Arctic Monkeys Lead Man." Which okay, was a great movie. "Alex Turner New Flame Confirmed." Again, true. "Teenage Love for Arctic Monkeys Singer!" Which was fucking gross clickbait. You were twenty. Had been for months even if sometimes you felt much younger than that, like when you realized you had to buy pots and pans, they didn't just magically appear. 

And, "New Arctic Monkeys Album? Alex Turner All Loved Up." 

You rolled your eyes. 

For once you were up after sunrise. And after Alex which wasn't surprising. He rarely woke up before noon if it could be helped. 

You reply to Pierre, "officially a sugar baby now lmao [eye roll emoji]." 

And just heart some of the links Vivian sent you. You'd be seeing her soon enough. 

Nine years. Alex was nine years older than you, but it wasn't really something you thought about of ever really talked about. He was just Alex, your boyfriend, once he'd gotten back from tour and had spent more than three days all cooped up in your hotel room bed having the best three days of your life. It wasn't that big of a deal. Just something you hadn't specifically mentioned to your parents during your weekly facebook messenger video call. They would worry. Your mom would go on a rant. Your dad would definitely bring up how you should've gone to college before pursuing ballet and how this was supposed to have helped you get into a university not be a career.

And you'd have to keep them from taking a flight to the UK. 

Besides, your parents knew how to google people. They weren't dumb. Just worried about you living so far in general. 

Even you hadn't ever really thought about, it hadn't crossed your mind, to date someone so much older than you. Alex had a house. He had an established career. 

You couldn't even legally drink in the states. 

But after the initial shock of the band and his age, you'd fallen into easy conversation, ordering room service, Alex's lips at the apex of your thighs while waiting for a full english breakfast because you just had to see what that was about, and it had slid from the forefront of your thoughts. 

Now the tabloids had of course, decided to be an ass about it. 

You got up and slipped into the shower. The water steaming as you quickly got ride of last nights seat before heading downstairs, interested in what Alex had scrounged up for breakfast this time. 

Last time you were here, it'd been frozen waffles, an avocado, and margaritas. Alex is frying eggs as you take a seat on a barstool, watching him cook. You hated frying eggs. You could never get them to not stick to the pan.

"Matthew," Alex tells you as he plates the eggs along with toast and slices of tomatoes, "sent me a load of articles. 'fink they know who you are."

"Had to happen eventually," you respond, watching as a line forms between his brows. Maybe you should talk about the elephant of the room. Just because something didn't bother you didn't mean it wasn't bothering him. Though the whole famous thing in general annoyed him. "Pierre sent me some too. Though he works for some fashion website so he always sends me a bunch of things to read."

He'd also heavily hinted that should you ever decide to try being an influencer he'd love to get you in touch with small fashion brands. 

The man loved his Laquan Smith. 

Alex frowns as he takes a seat next to you. A set up you personally hated and never failed to bring up at least once while staying at his flat. How could you hold a conversation like this! face to face was the way to go. 

Trying to lighten the mood you joke, "I've been twenty since July."

He doesn't smile. Or reach for his food. Alex had the bad habit of just sitting, following his train of thought, as he lapsed into silence. And his thoughts didn't always lead anywhere good. 

If you thought that hard, you'd probably be depressed. It was a good thing you generally were too busy remembering counts and steps to think, and got home to tired to do much other than sleep.

"Alex, baby," you tell him, "who gives a shit what they think." 

"Ya ever 'fink," he says instead of shrugging it off, "about how when I was twenty ya were 11?"

"No," you answer plainly. It had crossed your mind once but-"Well I thought about it once," you tell him honestly, putting down you fork, "but what's the use thinking about it? I didn't know you then. It's not like your some family friend that knew me when I was five. That's fucked up."

Alex snorts, his eyes meeting yours. For once his hair isn't full of gel. Strands falling into his doe eyes. "Ya know what I'm trying to say...your-I'm. Nine is. . .I grew up with the strokes ya grew up with One Direction."

You reach for his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, warmth spreading in your hearth when he squeezes your hand. "Nine is not a small gap. Or a huge one. It's not like your some fifty year old man dating a woman young enough to be his daughter."

This time he really does laugh. " 's true love but. . .don't ya want someone. . .I'm-I don't want you to miss out on doing what twenty year olds do."

You roll your eyes. "Alex you're also twenty not some grandfather. I'm not missing out on anything. It's not like we don't go out. And more importantly I want to be with you. Now let me eat my eggs before they get cold and rubbery."

"It's just. . .ya. . .," he turns his whole body so he's looking at you, even as you dig into your breakfast because you just knew if you kept talking about this Alex would just keep going in circles and your much rather eat and then fuck your boyfriend on the couch before wandering around london. Or curling up to watch telly. "ya sure-"

"Alex," you meet his gaze head on, "nine years isn't nothing, but it only really matters if you were rushing to have kids and get married or in some different stage of life which you're not. Fuck the tabloids. When have they ever been your friends."

Alex runs a hand through his hair thoughtfully and you finally start eating. Which okay, your boyfriend could fry an egg.  It was much better than the oatmeal you'd had for the past few days because you hadn't stopped by a store even though you lived a block from one. 

"I really love ya," Alex mutters softly. 

Out of natural instinct, you reply, while smashing some egg onto a slice of toast, "I love you too."

Then realize what he'd just said. What you'd just said, and look over at him all bug eyed. It was the first time you'd ever told a boy than. And it sent the same little thrill through you as kissing him in front of Buckingham Palace had. 

"Alex, I love you," you repeat just because you can, smiling softly over at him.  

"I haven't put ya off yet love?" Alex asks, smiling sappily over at you. 

"Never." You smile in response. 

[evalinkatrineberg]

Questions

A/N: This is the product of challenge 3 side RPs done with @hugo-stanton and @arin-schreave . I feel compelled to mention that Evalin has definitely NEVER read 50 Shades of Grey before. With that, I’ll leave you to it!

I really didn’t have much of a clue as to what was going on. The note, once again, had arrived while I was out of the room - probably when I had been in the library studying, or perhaps when I had been out running, or talking to Idalia, or doing other tasks that demanded my attention. Regardless, all I knew was that my maids were now getting me ready for someone to take photos of me this afternoon at the beach. I couldn’t help but wonder why photos were only being taken now, so far into the Selection already, but perhaps it really wasn’t my place to question this. There must be a good reason, anyway.

The other question I had was how appropriate my appearance was for the setting of these photographs. Grace had insisted that I needed to wear heels to this photography session, but I was having trouble discerning a logical explanation for her assertion. The photos were to be taken on a beach, after all. Grace must have never tried to walk in a pair of heels in the sand, because it was near impossible to do. I had managed to take all of three steps before stopping dead in my tracks and leaning down, undoing the thin straps of the heels and deciding to just walk barefoot with them in my hand until I found this photographer.

The other issue with my appearance at the moment was the fact that my hair was completely down, loose and unbound, the wind tossing it every which way, specifically right in my face. A few strands kept finding their way to my lips, which led me to believe that my makeup was probably wonderfully smudged already. The whole look was rather impractical. That was fine, though. I supposed I just had to get this over with.

Shielding my eyes from the sun, I caught sight of someone - a man - crouching by a log, holding a camera up to his face. Deciding that he must be the photographer, I dropped my hand, tucking the same loose strands of hair behind my ears for the umpteenth time and looking down at the sand as I walked, intent on avoiding stepping on anything sharp. I really didn’t need to bleed in front of another man while I was here. Once was more than enough. I didn’t need to make that a habit.

“Hello,” I called as I approached, offering the photographer a small wave as my eyes flitted between the sand beneath my feet and his face. Something about him was unsettlingly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place what it was.

It’s probably nothing.

The photographer lowered his camera, looking up at me and rising to his feet with a smile on his face. “Hi, Evalin,” he began, extending his hand towards me. “I’m Hugo.”

So he knew my name, then. Funny how some people were good with that sort of information, whereas others had only learned my name after a few weeks of us living under the same roof. Hugo probably met a lot of people in his line of work, though, I figured, so he had probably had to get good at memorizing names.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hugo.” I shook his hand, offering him another smile before pulling my hand back and leaning down to put on my shoes, not dropping his eye contact as I did. My fingers fumbled with the straps. Damn them for being so tiny. “Sorry about this - sand and heels don’t mix, apparently!”

Hugo simply shook his head and waved his hand dismissively at my shoes. “Oh, you can leave them off if you like. I imagine they’re not very comfortable.”

“Oh.” I had to laugh at that. He was right, of course, but his answer still surprised me a little nonetheless. I wasn’t about to argue with him, though, so I placed my shoes in the sand, quickly making a mental note of what they were near. There was the log, and a small grouping of rocks. It shouldn’t be too hard to find this spot again. “Okay, yeah, that’s a lot easier for me, thank you!” Looking at him once more, I clasped my hands together in front of me. “So, is there something in particular you want me to do right now? I don’t really know how this works.”

I didn’t even know what I was doing here, to be honest. Was this something I had signed up for? I had no memory of doing so, but maybe I had signed some paper or another without even thinking about it, distracted by the million and one other things I had to do. The policy proposal was demanding most of my mental focus at the moment. I didn’t feel like it was as far reaching enough as it could be, or far reaching enough to make much of an impact at all,  but I couldn’t come up with a solution that would rectify that before the damned thing was due. I could only hope that what I had come up with was satisfactory enough to keep me around here for at least a little while longer.

Long enough to receive another kiss from Arin, maybe.

God, I was the hopeless one, wasn’t I?

I snapped back out of my thoughts as Hugo nodded, smiling at me. “Why don’t you sit down on the log and we’ll take it from there?”

I was pretty confident in my ability to do that. “Sure.” I smiled back at him, brushing the wrinkles out of my dress once I had taken a seat on the log. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable chair, but it wasn’t too unbearable. I could handle it. Still, chatter might be a welcome way to distract myself, and it seemed like Hugo might be a better conversationalist than some of the other people I had been talking to recently. It was worth a shot. “So, what got you into photography, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Hugo took a few steps backwards before taking a seat on the sand, crossing his legs like a pretzel. He began to fiddle with his camera, instantly drawing my attention to the device. It looked nice, though I didn’t know the first thing about photography, so I could have been very incorrect about that. I was willing to bet that he was adjusting the settings, though, to account for the lighting of the beach. “My aunt used to be in the film industry,” he finally answered, “so that’s where it came from, I think.”

“That’s so cool!” I responded with a smile. Had his aunt worked as a camerawoman, then? I was close to recommending that he talk to Indie, since that seemed right up her alley, but something had me biting my tongue, keeping my advice at bay. “You’ve been doing this for quite a while, then?” I asked instead.

“A few years,” he replied with a shrug, lifting his head to look at me once more.

“Oh.” I inclined my head slightly to the right, narrowing my eyes at him ever so slightly, as if I could pull the answers I sought out of him with my vision alone. Most of the Fives I had met had begun pursuing their craft at a younger age, in their early teens, mostly, in order to perfect it by the time they were young adults. My own mother had done just that, based on the stories of her childhood that she’d shared with my siblings and I. How had he made a living before finding photography? He looked young enough, sure, but definitely a good few years older than me. Maybe he just looked older than he actually was, though.

My curiosity got the better of me. “Did you have another job before this, then?”

Hugo shook his head, looking at me with an expression that showed me that I had just caught him red-handed. So, he hadn’t, then. Interesting, indeed! “Does being a student count as a job?”

I was only growing more confused with each answer he gave me. He had had enough money to go to school for photography, or at least that was what I assumed he had studied, and yet he hadn’t held a job before then? That was practically unheard of for a Five. I could only imagine the reaction my mother would have when I shared this story with her.

I laughed a little at his response, then, pushing my own prying questions aside in the interest of being polite. “I’d argue yes, but as a student myself, I think I’m a bit biased.”

His camera was already up, the shutter flashing, as he captured his desired image. Still, he continued the conversation nonetheless. “What are you in school for?”

“Biology, actually.” Maybe I can use this as a segue into my own questions. “What about you - what did you study?” Perhaps he was simply an insanely wealthy Two or Three - a lawyer, or an engineer, perhaps - who had discovered he had a passion for photography, and had picked it up as a hobby. I was interested in why the palace would hire him, then, as opposed to a Five who did this sort of work to make a living, especially since Princess Mélanie seemed so sympathetic to the plight of the lower castes, from what I had seen and heard of her work.

“Arts,” Hugo answered, snapping another photo before continuing, “but some strings had to be pulled to make that happen, so I’m not sure how fair it is I had the opportunity.”

“Well,” I began, unsure of how to respond to that. All I knew was that I could not allow myself to frown, even if it was only in consternation. That would not look pleasing in a picture. I shifted my position a bit, doing my best to keep my face down and hidden as I considered my next words. “If that’s your passion, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to pursue it.”

I wholeheartedly believed that statement. It was actually somewhat related to the policy proposal I had saved in my drafts on my computer, though different enough that his experience couldn’t be used as an example of how my proposed policy could be beneficial to Illéa as a whole.

Once again, Hugo shrugged. “I’m happy enough,” he reassured me, smiling as he pulled the camera away from his face.

“That’s good.” I nodded back at him, my smile falling a bit and my eyes narrowing as I considered his words. Happy enough, but not happy. What was holding him back from that last bit of contentment, then? Did he really feel so guilty about studying the arts in university that it kept him from being completely happy?

The sound of waves crashing against the short pulled my attention away from him then, and I turned to watch them roll in, and then flow back out, pulled by a force none of us could see. As if in response, some strands of my hair flew out from behind my ears, blowing in the direction of the waves. I smiled a bit as I pushed them back where I wanted them to be, though it was starting to get on my nerves. Despite that, I could hear the shutter of Hugo’s camera, and decided it was best to keep my negative emotions at bay for the time being. Maybe I needed more sleep, or maybe just more time to relax, but either way, I shouldn’t take it out on Hugo, or the photos. He had been nothing but kind, no matter how confused his tales of his life left me.

I heard him standing up, and before I could fully drag my attention away from the waves, he had already made his way over to me, his hand held out towards me, palm upwards. “Why don’t we go down by the water?”

I placed my hand in his, feeling a faint blush form on my face at the touch. His hands were smooth - practically uncalloused. This man hadn’t done a day of hard labor in his life, and he definitely had never played a string instrument, that much I was almost one-hundred percent certain of. Who was he?

I pushed that aside yet again, instead offering him a, “Thank you,” as I rose to my feet, shaking my head as I looked back at the water. “That’d be nice. It’s been so long since I’ve actually been to the beach. I don’t know why I haven’t come down here sooner.”

“It’s pretty nice down here,” he agreed, looking out at the water himself now. He pointed a finger off towards the expanse of beach that lay to my right. “If you go down that way maybe ten to fifteen minutes, there’s a little lagoon.”

I followed his finger, squinting as if that would somehow magically bring the lagoon into view. It was definitely too far for me to see. It was foolish to even try. Still, maybe I could incorporate it into some of my morning runs, if I could find it. It’d be nice to shake up my route a little bit, anyway, and dipping my feet in the water would probably feel really good after running in the dry, Angeles heat. “I’ll have to keep that in mind, thank you!” Turning to him then, I smiled, and asked, “Are there any razor clams around there? Those things used to scare me like nothing else whenever I went to the beach as a kid.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory. Maybe scared wasn’t the right word - startled was more like it. As a child, I had somehow managed to convince myself that being hit by the water those stupid little clams squirted into the air whenever somebody got too close would hurt like a bee sting, or being hit by a water balloon. I had often clung to my father’s arm whenever one of my brothers called out that they had found some razor clams, doing whatever it took to circumnavigate my way to the ocean, just to avoid being hit by the clams’ water. It was so silly of me, but I had been a rather skittish kid.

Hugo sucked in a breath before answering. “Gosh, I don’t know. I’m not the right person to ask. That’s more Arin’s thing.”

Arin had a thing for marine ecology? I raised an eyebrow, remembering the questions Reggie had asked me in the library all those weeks ago. Was that somehow related to this new revelation about Arin’s interest? Hell, the fact that he had actual interests outside of running the country was news to me. I chucked a bit as I stepped into the water. “Really? Interesting! I’ll have to keep that in mind then.”

Wait a minute. How does Hugo know that?

I narrowed my eyes at the photographer, furrowing my brows. “How do you know him?” If he had only been a photographer for a few years, he couldn’t be the one responsible for most of the royal photographs I had seen prior to coming here. He shouldn’t have had enough time to build up such a casual rapport with Arin - comfortable enough to call him by only his first name, with no title or honorific.

Who the hell was this guy?

He shot me an expression that was somewhere between sheepish and guilty as he admitted, “We’re cousins.”

Oh, maybe that’s why his face looks kind of familiar, then.

My eyes went a little wide, and I covered my mouth with my hand for a moment, trying my best to hide the shock that was undoubtedly still evident on my face. Once I had taken a second to compose myself again, I pulled my hand away from my face. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! I had no clue!”

“Why are you sorry?” His confusion was written all over his face. Unlike his cousin, he wore his emotions openly, it seemed. “If I ran into one of your cousins, I wouldn’t know who they were unless they told me.”

I looked around for a moment, attempting to come up with a response. “Yeah, but…” I trailed off. My family isn’t famous, or royalty, and I don’t have any cousins. I couldn’t blurt that out without thinking. I had to learn to stem the flow of my words before they seriously got me in trouble one of these days. So I looked at him again, offering a small smile and waving my hand through the air. “Never mind,” I decided, turning to look down at the water as it lapped at my feet. It was a lot colder than I had expected it would be.

Hugo didn’t respond, instead taking a few steps backwards and fiddling with his camera again, which now hung around his neck. I looked back over my shoulder at him. Maybe I should try a new topic of conversation, then. “Have you lived in Angeles your whole life?”

He shook his head, his body going still as he lined up his next shot. “No, I was born in France, actually. Have you lived in your province your whole life?”

For someone who had supposedly grown up abroad, he didn’t have much of a discernible accent, at least not to me. Then again, maybe I was just used to my grandfather’s thick Northern Swendish accent. There were times that I could barely understand what he was trying to say when he endeavored to speak English. Hugo didn’t seem to have that difficulty, though. He must have had a great education, then.

I nodded in response to his question. “During the school year, yes. When we were younger, though, my parents would send my siblings and I to Swendway with our grandparents for the summer. They still have this little cabin near Tromsø, but they don't like to live there year round because of how cold it gets. It’s fun in the summer, though, because the sun never sets.”

I could feel my smile growing as I spoke, the memories of my childhood summers flooding back all at once. My grandfather loved to take my siblings and I out on a little sailboat he had docked at the local marina. We’d all do our best to distract him so he didn’t realize how late it was getting, and then whenever he did realize, we’d inform him that we couldn’t possibly go to bed yet, because the sun was still up. He’d always chuckled at our mischief, but I was sure he must have gotten tired of it after a while. Yet, neither he nor my grandmother had ever reprimanded any of us. I missed those summers. It had been ages since any of us had been back, thanks to the ongoing conflict with Swendway. It wasn’t exactly the safest place for an Illéan to travel at the moment, much to my own disappointment.

A new light shone in Hugo’s eyes once I had finished regaling him with the tales of my summers past. “That must be beautiful. I only ever visited Swendway once before…” he trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished.

What had happened when he had gone to Swendway?

I tilted my head a bit to the right, keeping my smile in tact as I asked, “When?”

“I was a teenager,” he answered, his own smile reappearing now. It wasn’t much of an answer, seeing as I didn’t know how old he was, but I assumed that that had to mean it was before the relations between Illéa and Swendway had taken a turn for the worse.

“Me too,” I replied, laughing a little, “though I guess that’s not saying much in terms of how long ago it was. We stopped going once my older siblings started heading off to college. Timing got too complicated, and all that. So it’s been a few years.” Or so that was the reason my parents had fed me when I was fourteen. It felt like a safer explanation to give him, somehow. “Where in Swendway did you go?”

“Geirangerfjord,” he answered smoothly. A hint of hesitation crept over his face then, and in a more tense tone of voice, he added, “and Stockholm, of course.”

“Naturally,” I replied, nodding. It only made sense that he had been to the capital of Swendway. My own father had grown up there, mostly, thanks to my grandfather’s job. It was a lovely city, based on what I had been told by both my father and his parents, with cobbled streets and some buildings over hundreds of years old. Now, though, I could understand why visiting there could be a point of contention. I’d better change the subject again. “Sounds like you’ve had the chance to travel a lot!”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I have, and I’d love to go back.”

“Me too, one day,” I agreed, looking up at the sky and gesturing around a bit with my right hand. “I’ve got other things to do first, though.” I looked back at him then, laughing a bit, though it felt more forced than it had before. There was so much to do at this point in my life. Weren’t you supposed to gain more freedom as you grew up? It certainly didn’t feel that way to me.

Hugo laughed along. “I think we all have a lot we want to do.”

“Of course,” I replied smoothly, flashing him a joking smile as I turned to face him more, gently kicking a little of the water in the process. “We just need a time machine to do it all.”

“A time machine?” He cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit as he looked at me.

“I mean, there’s just so much to do, and so little time to try and do it all,” I attempted to explain. It was an age-old problem, I had supposed, but maybe it wasn’t as relatable as I had thought. I cleared my throat, looking up at the sky, holding my left hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun. My hair tickled the bare skin of my neck as the wind blew it backwards this time, out of my face. That wasn’t my main concern as I took in the rapidly darkening sky, though. “Are those storm clouds?”

He looked up as well then, nodding once as he took in the sky. “Looks like it. That blew in quickly, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I frowned as I made my way back out of the water. In Carolina, it wasn’t uncommon for storms to pop up and then dissipate within the span of a couple of hours, especially during the summer, but I hadn’t seen that happen here, yet. I had a feeling we were in for a long afternoon and evening of much needed precipitation. “I think this will actually be the first time it’s rained since I’ve been here.”

Hugo glanced down at his camera, a frown forming on his face. “Maybe we should head back.”

“Yeah, that seems like the best idea,” I agreed, already making my way up the beach towards my shoes. “Your camera looks very nice, and I’d hate for it to get damaged.”

“It’s just a thing, but I’d love it if it didn’t get wet,” he called after me, following me up the beach. So, he wasn’t incredibly materialistic, then. Each word that came out of his mouth was like another piece of a puzzle, but instead of the pieces coming together to form a clear picture of Hugo, none of them seemed to quite fit together.

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Entirely understandable.”

“Well,” he began, his pace speeding up as he attempted to close the distance between us, “if we’re quick, it won’t be an issue.”

A bit ironic that that’s coming from the guy who’s trying to catch up with me, isn’t it?

“Good thing I like to run, then!” I replied with a laugh.

Hugo just made a face at that. “I don’t run. Speed walking is the most you’ll get from me.”

At this point, I had kind of figured that out, but I laughed anyway as I looked at him over my shoulder once again. “Ah, but you’re tall.” It was true. He couldn’t have been more than an inch shorter than Arin. “That makes up for the speed difference.”

“I’m pretty sure multiple people would disagree with you,” he replied with a small laugh.

I raised an eyebrow, my chest still rising and falling with silent laughter. I hadn’t met his entire family yet, but they didn’t seem like giants compared to him. “What, are you a stop and smell the roses kind of guy?”

He waited a few seconds before responding, and then settled on, “I’ve never had anyone say that about me, but I guess I am.” With that, he began to hum thoughtfully, his mind no doubt embarking on a small journey of self-reflection over a sentence I hadn’t even thought about as it had flown out of my mouth.

I offered him a reassuring smile. “Nothing wrong with appreciating the small wonders of life! Sometimes it’s nice to just be able to take your time and really enjoy something.” That was quite possibly the most hypocritical thing to ever come out of my mouth. “Though, it doesn’t seem like many of us get to do that anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed, glancing over his shoulder to check on the clouds, which were blotting out more of the sky now. We really needed to get a move on to save his camera. Yet, he turned back to me, and asked, “What do you take your time on?”

I pursed my lips, mulling it over. What did I take my time to enjoy, anymore? Sure, I enjoyed my studies, and could easily lose myself in the details of them, but it was still something I did in part out of necessity, and not entirely for fun. “I used to like watching ballets,” I admitted, attempting to remember what it had felt like to watch one, years ago when I had in high school, “and taking time to enjoy every detail that went into making the production as a whole so breathtaking, but I’m afraid it’s been a while since I’ve done that.” I too turned to look up at the clouds now, rubbing my right forearm with my left hand. I didn’t know why admitting that one detail about myself had left me feeling so exposed - vulnerable, even - yet I found myself half tempted to find an excuse to run away from the conversation.

“Angeles has a pretty fantastic ballet company, if you ever have the time to go.” The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a grin, something sparking in his eyes as he spoke. “You could have Arin take you sometime.”

Bold of you to assume that I “could,” have Arin do anything he doesn’t explicitly want to do himself.

Despite the fact that I was beginning to wonder if Hugo and I were in fact referring to the same person when we said, “Arin,” I found myself smiling at the idea. “I would quite like that, if he ever has the chance. He seems pretty busy, usually, though.” When he’s not drinking, or kissing girls. “Not that I can blame him! It’s just difficult to get to know someone when you’ve only accidentally bumped into them twice, and been on one date that was more a series of unfortunate incidents than it was a date.”

God, why was I telling him this?

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t catch what you mean, sorry.”

That was probably for the better. I waved my hand through the air as best I could while still holding my shoes. They bounced against each other, the sound of them knocking together hollower than I had thought it would be. “Don’t worry about it! The ballet sounds lovely, and I really hope I get the chance to go at some point.”

“Just ask him,” he reiterated, flashing me a reassuring smile, “it can’t hurt.”

“Fair enough,” I said with a nervous laugh. Maybe he was right. Was it worth the risk, though, was the question holding me back.

Something wet landed on my arm then, prompting me to stop where I stood, only a few meters away from the palace doors. Rain. When was the last time I had felt the rain on my skin? May, maybe? Definitely sometime before I had come to Angeles. That felt like so much longer than only a little over a month ago.

Beside me, Hugo had stopped as well, looking up at the sky as a few drops landed on his face. A stop and smell the roses kind of guy, indeed. That much was painfully obvious now. I looked away, revelling in the feeling of the rain on my own face. Without even thinking, I wandered a little further away from the doors, walking in a small circle as I looked upwards at the clouds. I had never noticed how much I had taken something as simple as the rain for granted.

“As much as I’d love to stay out here in the rain, my camera wouldn’t.”

I spun around to look back at him, my skirt swirling around me as I did, only to find him staring right back at me, a small smile on his face. “Right, of course.” I felt myself begin to blush again, though I was doing my best to convince myself that the blood wasn’t rushing to my face simply at the thought of him watching me as I was lost in thought. I walked over towards the doors, intent on getting the door for him, since he was holding something valuable, and I only had my shoes in my hands, which I should probably put back on now, anyways. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the rain, and I got a little distracted.”

“You can stay, if you like,” he offered, shrugging and then laughing a little. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your chance to see the rain.”

I shook my head as I reached for the door handle. As much as I would have liked to stay in the rain, I knew it would be a poor decision to do so. “I appreciate it, but I shouldn’t. I’m afraid there’s other things I should be doing instead.” A certain policy proposal was still sitting on my laptop, having undergone only one round of edits thus far. I really wanted it to be as good as I could possibly make it, if only to make a lasting impression on whoever was judging our proposals. Maybe they’d put in a good word for me. That’d be nice.

“Well, then hopefully it rains again sometime when you don’t have things to do.”

I looked down, attempting to hide my frown at his words as I opened the door and stepped inside, holding it open with one hand for him to grab. What did he mean by that? Did I really seem that obsessed with the rain? It was probably nothing. I was probably overthinking it. “One of these days, maybe.”

I let go of the door once I felt that he had grabbed it. “Thank you,” he said from behind me. I turned to face him then, watching him shake his head like a dog in an effort to dislodge some of the raindrops that lingered in his hair as the door closed shut behind him.

I brushed my fingers through my own hair, smiling a bit as I watched him. What an odd man. Still, he was rather nice, and that was very much appreciated. “Well, I know that didn’t go exactly as planned, but thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he responded, smiling as well. “I really appreciate how willing you were to help out.”

I felt my smile widen a bit, even as I slowly began to back down the hallway, clasping my hands in front of me. “Right, well, I should probably get going, but thank you again!”

“Have a good rest of your day, Evalin.” He turned to head down the hallway in another direction, looking over his shoulder at the last moment to add, “I'll see you around.”

“You too!” I turned away then, intent on making it up to my room and changing out of my slightly damp dress as quickly as possible. My thoughts kept flitting from Hugo’s words, to the advice he had given me about asking Arin to take me to the ballet, and then back to the work I should undoubtedly be doing instead of thinking of all this. Maybe I could multitask, though - write Arin a letter, and then get some work done as I waited for his reply. Yes, that seemed reasonable.

As soon as I was changed into a dry, more casual dress, and no longer wearing heels, I began drafting my letter to Arin. A letter seemed like the way to go - it was more polite than just barging into his office unannounced, that was for sure. Plus, it gave Julia the time to braid my hair as I wrote, which was probably for the better, since my hair had gotten more unruly than usual, after getting wet. I smiled down at my letter after finishing, looking it over briefly for any spelling errors.

Your Highness,

You never did get around to giving me your book recommendations. We should rectify that quickly, I think.

Sincerely,

Lady Evalin

PS - I have some questions about local marine life, if you have a moment or two to entertain them.

Hugo’s comments about Arin being knowledgeable about marine life had stuck with me. It would be kind of nice to see Arin speak passionately about something other than his woes or his own moral dilemmas. Seeing him so enthralled by my notes in the library had been fun, for sure, but that had been more of my passion than his. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a topic that got him talking like my work got me talking.

Satisfied with my letter, I smiled at Christina, beckoning her closer with a hand gesture. As she approached, I folded the letter in half, smiling at her again before handing the letter to her. “Could you please take this to the prince?”

Christina raised an eyebrow back at me, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “The prince? Why, of course, Evalin! It would be my pleasure.”

I laughed a little, drumming my fingers along the top of my computer and saying a quick, “Thank you! I knew I could count on you,” as she departed.

Julia had just finished with my hair, and I had barely even gotten my computer booted up when Christina scurried back in, stopping beside me and placing a small, folded square of paper on my keyboard. Her grin was infectious, and I found myself chuckling as I unfolded the letter.

Evalin,

What kind of book are you looking for?

P.S. I’m not an expert on marine life but if you’d like to ask me I’ll do my best to answer.

-Arin

I had to snort a little at his formatting. What fool put the post-script before signing his name? Still, it was nice of him to offer to answer. Pulling out another sheet of paper from my desk drawer, I quickly scrawled a reply, before folding it and handing it to Christina to repeat the process again.

Arin,

I believe you said you could recommend some books on history?

The marine life part came up in a recent conversation where I asked somebody about whether or not there are razor clams on the beaches here, and I was advised to ask you.

Thank you in advance,

Evalin

Mentioning Hugo by name felt wrong, somehow, as if admitting I had spoken with Arin’s cousin would somehow put Arin on edge. I knew it was ridiculous to think that, but I still couldn’t help but feel like I should be careful about dropping names.

Christina returned with Arin’s reply in a matter of minutes. It appeared I wasn’t going to get much editing done on my proposal, at this rate.

Evalin,

“2024: Wallis’ War” might be an interesting place to start. It gives you a peek into what life was before Illéa.

As for razor clams, no. The furthest south you can find them is about 20 miles north of the Angeles and Sonage border.

-Arin

I quickly wrote the name of the book down on a post-it note, and then pulled out another paper to write a reply.

Arin,

I’m assuming I’d be able to find this book in the library? It sounds quite interesting! Might I send some light reading your way while I’m there - only if you’re interested, of course!

Ah, sad about the clams!

Thank you for your reply,

Evalin

I truly wasn’t sure where I had even planned on going with the line of questioning about the razor clams. Was I going to drag him out to the beach with me, to watch me laugh as they squirted up water? How ridiculous! It was probably for the better that they weren’t native to this area.

Evalin,

Yes.

-Arin

I assumed that his reply was to both of my questions. It looked like I was going to the library, then. With a small sigh, I closed my laptop, rubbing my hands on dress once before picking the post-it note with the book title off my desk. Life before Illéa. It was such a strange concept to me. Obviously, I knew Illéa hadn’t been a country since the dawn of time, but 2024 didn’t sound like it was that long ago, if I was being honest. It was only six years before my father was born. Had he been alive before the creation of Illéa? I frowned, wrinkling my nose as I realized that I’d never thought about that before.

It didn’t take me long to find the book once I got to the library. Despite the gargantuan size of the palace library, it was still organized using the same system as every other library I had been to during my lifetime. The book itself seemed decent in size - not huge, but thick enough to keep me busy for a couple of days, for sure. Once the book was safely tucked under my arm, I made my way over to where I expected the scientific journals to be. Arin had seemed somewhat interested in my notes, the last time we had spoken. Maybe he’d enjoy some of my the work I had helped publish under Proctor.

I knelt down, immediately finding the first two articles I had contributed to. Those were the two I had expected to find. Both of them - one with a red cover, and the other with a blue cover - contained the results of experiments that Proctor had come up with. I had merely helped her with the analysis and by proofreading her findings, once she had written them up. I was almost surprised to find the third, though. It’s black cover caught my eye just as I was about to turn around and stand again. That journal contained the results of an experiment that I had come up with, that I had practically begged Proctor to let me run in her lab, under her guidance, of course. It hadn’t been a success by any big, discernable margins, but having her say yes to my proposed experiment had still been one of my proudest moments to date. I quickly snagged that journal off the shelf too, stacking the three journals on top of the book Arin had recommended me.

I debated just heading back to my room, and having Christina just run the journals down to Arin’s office along with another note. It wasn’t like they were particularly heavy - they were rather flimsy, as a matter of fact. Yet, I still felt a pang of guilt about making her run what would likely turn into yet another chain of messages between Arin and I. It was probably just easier for me to bring him the journals myself.

I stopped outside the door of his office, taking a deep breath. He had seemed so adamant about not wanting me in his office the night we had drank bourbon together in the hallway. Maybe this was a bad idea. It was too late to turn back now, though. I knocked three times, staring at the door as I waited to see if it would open.

“Come in!”

It seemed he wasn’t going to come get the door, then. With a small frown, I juggled the books in my hands, shifting them so they were held up by my left hip and arm, opening the door with my right hand. Arin was sitting at his desk, his head down, pen in hand.

Oh, crap. I just hoped whatever he was working on wasn’t classified, or super important.

I kept my voice soft as I spoke, taking care to close the door as quietly as possible. “Hi,” I began, tossing a timid smile in his direction, even though he wasn’t looking at me. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, but I came by to drop off the reading I mentioned to you earlier. There’s three different articles in these journals that I contributed to, and since you seemed interested in my notes and textbook the last time I saw you, I thought you might be interested in these, too.”

At the sound of my voice, he looked up, his eyes going wide for the briefest moment as he shot to his feet so quickly I thought he might knock over his chair. “Evalin,” was all he said, brushing his hands on his pants.

I felt my own eyes go wide as I laughed a little at the speed with which he had risen to his feet. It was rather entertaining how startled he always seemed to be by my presence. First in the library, now this. A small part of me hoped it would become a consistent pattern.

“I’ll be sure to be clearer about when I’m coming by next time, I suppose.” Taking a moment to shuffle the books I was holding, I tucked the book he had recommended me under my arm again, and then held the three academic journals out towards him.

He seemed a bit fidgety as he made his way around his desk, coming to a stop in front of me and taking the journals from my hand. What had he been working on before this? What had I interrupted? I was more curious now, seeing his reaction, than I had been before.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt you in the middle of something too important!” I was being genuine, in the sense that I had had no intention of disrupting work that required his utmost attention, but I also kind of hoped that by saying something, I might be able to get him to explain his nervousness, a bit. I had to wonder why he was acting so on edge as it was. He had been the one to tell me to come in, after all. Regardless, it was still fun to see him caught off guard yet again. “I could just go, if you’d like! I just wanted to drop these off for you!”

He looked down at the books that were now in his hands. “Um, thank you.”

“No problem!” I laughed a little again, more nervous this time, but then shook my head. He hadn’t asked or told me to leave, after all. I looked over his shoulder towards his desk, narrowing my eyes at the papers that sat atop it, as if I would somehow be able to make out what was written on them from this distance. “What were you working on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh,” he began, glancing over his shoulder at his desk before turning to face me again. “Nothing interesting.”

Fine, then. I supposed he was entitled to his secrets.

“Ah okay, just curious! Wanted to make sure I hadn’t interrupted anything important!” I’d already said that, hadn’t I? Shoot! I must have looked like a total fool, desperate for attention.

“Nothing that can’t be done later,” he reassured me, nodding at the journals I had given him. “Besides, this is much more interesting, I’m sure.”

“Ah, it may be!” I offered him a sheepish smile, hoping I hadn’t completely misread his interest in my notes in the library that day. Was he actually genuinely interested in my work, in what I was studying, or had he just been looking for an excuse to kiss me? Perhaps I was a bigger fool than I had thought. Still, the hole I had dug myself was too deep for me to climb out of now. “I only assisted in the articles my professor published in the first two, but I actually came up with the experiment in the third one - the journal with the black cover. I practically had to beg her to let me run it! I bought her coffee, did her busywork, ran her scantrons - anything to get her to say yes!” A small laugh escaped my mouth as I reminisced about those few weeks. Proctor had to have known what I was doing. I was terrible at deceit. I wore my true intentions all over my face every time I interacted with someone, I was afraid. She had still given me the go-ahead in the end, though, so I supposed that all’s well that ends well, and all that.

“That’s dedication,” Arin acknowledged, raising his eyebrows. He then turned away for a moment, setting the journals on his desk in a neat pile, aligning them just-so, similar to how he had carefully placed his book on the library table all those days ago. I was so fascinated by his near obsessive precision that I almost didn’t hear him add, “I’m not sure I’d have the same level of persistence.”

The corners of my lips tugged further upwards at the compliment. He was really feeding my ego today, it seemed. “I was really passionate about that experiment. I thought it’d be the greatest thing since sliced bread, I swear.” I chuckled a little at my own joke. I had come damn close to letting that experiment consume me, if I was being honest, practically living in Proctor’s lab for a couple of months. I would likely never do that again, I realized, my smile falling as I let the thought sink in, even as I continued rambling. “We didn’t think it all the way through, though - like how hard it would be to apply what we did in the lab in an actual human body - so there’s still a lot of future research to be done.” Future research that I likely won’t be allowed to assist in, despite coming up with the original idea. I’d brought that upon myself though, ultimately.

“What’s it on?” He asked, leaning back against his desk.

“Cancer research,” I answered without thinking, my eyes darting between him and the journal for a moment. Was it worth attempting to explain it to him? Looking back at him again, I decided to go for it. “The theory behind it was that maybe if we removed the gene in cancer cells that codes for their rapid reproduction, and inserted the gene that codes for apoptosis - spontaneous cell death - maybe we could stop or slow the spread of the cancer.”

He blinked. That alone told me that there was no way he had completely understood what I had said, but he nodded along regardless. “You think it could work?”

“In theory, yes. In actuality, probably not,” I admitted, shaking my head. “It would be extremely difficult to target individual cells within a person’s body. One solution I proposed to my professor was that maybe we could introduce some virus cells that would only target the cancer cells - like HIV targets immune cells only, kind of - and see if that would kill off the cancer cells. I’d bet actual money that she’s working to put her name to that idea right now.” Even though, once again, I was the one who came up with it. I laughed a little wryly, wondering how I had put up with Proctor’s behavior for as long as I had as I gazed at the journals.

Arin simply nodded. “Well, that’s a shame, then. It could so a lot of people good.”

“Yeah,” I replied, looking back at him then, “that was my hope.” With a shake of my head, decided to change the subject, flashing him a closed-lipped half smile. “But back to your previous point, about persistence - you mean to tell me that there has never been anything you felt like you would do whatever it took to achieve?” The concept of someone not feeling that passionate about anything seemed impossible.

“Anything I want to do will always be on the back burner,” he replied with a shrug. Right, I hadn’t considered that. Maybe that’s why he was so insistent on finding a wife, after all - he needed someone to relieve him of some of his workload, so he could pursue something he actually enjoyed, for once. That would likely be good for him, if I was being honest. He continued, oblivious to the thoughts churning in my mind. “At least for now. So, I find it's not efficient to focus on it too much.”

I offered him a sympathetic smile, close to offering him my help so he might be able to explore his own interests. Something held me back, though. That might be too much too fast. He was a hard nut to crack, and I didn’t feel like ruining what little progress I had made in getting to know him. “That makes sense. I tend to get the same way with work.” I gestured towards the journals I had given him, a single laugh escaping my lips before I added, “I think I saw my professor more than I saw my parents when we were running those experiments. Though in my case, I still definitely wanted to do them.”

“Well, you should try being employed by your parents. It’s interesting, to say the least.”

Ah, right, that. I hadn’t considered that, and yet, now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t help but wonder if we had more in common than we thought. I angled my head slightly away from him before admitting, “In a sense, I am. My professor and my father are co-heads of the biology department at my university, and both of them have to sign off on any students working in the labs, and place them in a position that corresponds to their interests. I just got lucky that my father and I aren’t interested in the same subfield.” I shook my head, looking down for a moment. Okay, maybe I had been wrong. Maybe we weren’t as similar as I thought. I met his gaze again, adding, “I can’t imagine how it must be for you, though.”

He shrugged. “I can’t imagine how it would be otherwise.”

I frowned, narrowing my eyes at him with curiosity as I inclined my head a bit to the right. “I take it you’re not someone that deals in hypotheticals, then.”

“Hypothetically, if anything was different then I wouldn't be me.”

A simple enough answer, and one that I could get behind, I realized as I shook my head. “No, that’s fair. I feel the same way.” I should say something more, to show him that I understand. The only example that was coming to mind, however, was the conversation I had had with Proctor the day before I had left for Angeles. Was it worth the risk to mention it? I bit my lip, attempting to come up with a way to word it that wouldn’t sound incriminating. I may not like Proctor at this point in time, but I didn’t want her ideas on the caste system to get us both in trouble, somehow. I would not let that woman take me down with her. “My professor asked me once what I would want to do with my life if I could choose absolutely any path, regardless of how realistic it was, and I swear it was like my mind just shut down. I just can’t really imagine being anything other than myself, you know?” I shook my head again. He must have thought that I was insane.

“I’m sure I could imagine it if I really tried,” he admitted, “but there’s no point in wasting time on impossible things.”

“Agreed,” I said simply, nodding once before biting the inside of my cheek. “But in a sense, everything is theoretically impossible, until it’s done. I mean, that’s how most technological advances are made, but that’s different, I suppose.” I shrugged, glancing back up at Arin. I was rambling again. I needed to figure out how to stop myself from doing that. It was getting out of hand. Exhaling through my nose, I decided to continue regardless. “It’s a shame that the world exists in nuanced shades of grey instead of clear-cut black and white. It’d make some things so much easier.”

“Grey is a perfectly wonderful color,” he replied with a soft smile.

I mirrored his expression, turning his words over and over again in my mind. “I suppose I’ll have to search for more pleasing shades of grey, then.”

For whatever reason, Hugo’s advice popped back into my mind at that moment, maybe because Hugo seemed like the kind of person who could see the hidden beauty in anything. I could hear his voice clearly, urging me that it couldn’t hurt to at least ask Arin if he would take me to the ballet. Was it worth the risk - to get my hopes up, only to have him potentially shoot them back down? Or maybe Hugo knew something about Arin that I didn’t. He was Arin’s cousin, after all.

It couldn’t hurt to try.

I looked back up at Arin, my head still inclined slightly to the right. “There was something else I wanted to ask you as well.”

He blinked once, a look of surprise flashing across his face. “What?”

Here goes nothing.

“Okay, well, I’m kind of spitballing here, but,” I stopped mid-sentence to take a deep breath, attempting to pull myself together, “theoretically, if I asked you to take me to the Angeles ballet - if you had the time, of course - would you say yes?”

I really was terrible at hiding my intentions, I realized yet again, as I smiled up at him with a glimmer of hope that he might say yes. My nerves got the best of me as I watched him tense up, and then let out a sigh.

Oh, no. It had not been worth it. Why had I thought it was a good idea to take Hugo’s advice? I had thought it was ridiculous the first time I had heard it! I should’ve trusted my instincts.

“Evalin,” Arin began. I felt my heart drop in my chest. “That’s not really my sort of thing.”

I knew my face had fallen, and I scrambled to cover it up before he noticed, in a vain attempt to save any shred of my pride I had left. What had I been thinking? I nodded once, my mind reaching for words that felt completely foreign at the moment. “Understood. Just thought I’d throw it out there, but, uh, forget it, I guess!”

“Sorry,” was all he said in reply, dropping my gaze.

Oh, God, what had I done? The little progress we had made towards getting closer was all falling to shreds right in front of me. I was such a fool.

I shook my head, offering him the best impression of a reassuring smile I could muster up at the moment. “No, no need to apologize! It was a silly idea to begin with,” I lied, shaking my head and rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. I never should have gotten my hopes up. Arin wasn’t someone I could count on to not let me down. I should’ve known as much by now.

“Maybe you could see if Safiya would want to go with you,” he offered, glancing back at me. “That’s up her alley.”

I was pretty sure Safiya was away for the week on some trip or another, if I remembered correctly, and the thought of asking her was borderline mortifying, considering we weren’t very close, but I offered Arin a small smile regardless. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Pointing over my shoulder at the door with my thumb, I added, “Anyways, I should probably get going. I’ve still got some work to finish.”

Arin nodded, pushing himself off his desk, to his feet. “Oh, yeah, of course. I shouldn’t keep you.”

We had really reversed our roles over the course of this conversation, it appeared.

“Right.” I slowly began to back towards the door, sliding the book he had recommended me out from under my arm and into my hands, holding it in front of me as I took another step. “Sorry again for interrupting. I’ll see you around, then.”

“It’s fine, really,” he reiterated, quickly walking towards the door himself. I stopped dead in my tracks, watching him as he made his way closer to me, brushing past me as he closed in on the door and opened it. “Don’t worry about it.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, offering him one last smile and a nod as I walked towards the door. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something else, but then clamped it shut. So this was it, then. What a rocky conversation this had been. I just smiled at him one last time before quickly making my way down the hallway, not waiting to hear the door close behind me. I just needed to get back to my room. I just needed to lose myself in this proposal that was due soon. That was the best use of my time. The least I could do was make sure I sounded more intelligent on paper than I did in person.

The proposal couldn’t be any worse than that conversation had been, at the very least. I had that much going for me. Now I just had to hope my idea for the policy wasn’t as silly or fantastical as the ideas I had had during that conversation.

[littlemixnet]

Little Mix's Jesy Nelson on surviving the trolls: 'People were saying horrific things' Eight years after she shot to fame on The X Factor, Nelson describes how she navigated the trauma of being relentlessly bullied on social media. When Jesy Nelson was 19 and working behind the bar at a pub in Dagenham, Essex, she remembers watching The X Factor on TV, and thinking: “I know I could win that.” In 2011, she did just that, as part of the girl group Little Mix – and thought: “This is the worst day of my life.” Competing in Simon Cowell’s singing contest unleashed ceaseless criticism of her appearance and weight (although rarely her voice). “All I cared about was what people were saying about me,” she says now. Winning offered no respite. When Little Mix were crowned, the first Facebook message she saw was from a stranger. It read: “You are the ugliest thing I have ever seen in my life. You do not deserve to be in this girl band, you deserve to die.” “I should have been on cloud nine,” she says. “I had Leigh-Anne [Pinnock, also of Little Mix] in my room being like: ‘This is the best!’ and I was like: ‘No, this isn’t.’” Little Mix went on to become the biggest British girl group since the Spice Girls, but Nelson was consumed by the trolling and abuse on social media. Within two years of the finale, she had depression and an eating disorder and had attempted suicide. The downward spiral and her eventual, slow recovery are the focus of an intensely personal BBC One documentary, Jesy Nelson: Odd One Out. Before shooting it, she says, she had never spoken publicly about her struggles in the spotlight. When we meet in a corner of BBC Broadcasting House in central London, Nelson, now 28, is friendly and glamorous, dressed in a double-breasted tangerine suit. It is the eighth anniversary of her X Factor debut and #8YearsofLittleMix has been trending on Twitter all morning, thanks to their fans, the “Mixers”. Within minutes of sitting down, she says that, had she known the consequences of appearing on The X Factor, she wouldn’t have done it: “I don’t think anything is worth your happiness, and it was a lot of my life that I won’t get back.” As a child growing up in Romford, Essex, Nelson was intent on becoming a performer, be it singing, dancing or acting. “I didn’t really have any reason to not be confident,” she says. In mid-2011, she auditioned for The X Factor as a solo entrant, and was eventually placed in a group with three others: Pinnock, Perrie Edwards and Jade Thirlwall, all aged between 18 and 20. Back then, social media was not as inextricably linked with reality TV as it is now. In fact, that eighth series was the first where applicants could upload their audition videos to YouTube; Nelson didn’t even know what YouTube was. She remembers being wowed when all the contestants were given new Samsung phones and told to get on Twitter to build their fanbase. On the first live show 12 weeks in, Little Mix (then Rhythmix – the name was changed later) performed Nicki Minaj’s Super Bass to gushing praise from judges Louis Walsh, Gary Barlow and their mentor Tulisa Contostavlos. It was “the best feeling in the world,” said Nelson through happy tears on stage. That night, off-camera, the contestants gathered to watch themselves on YouTube. Someone pointed out the comment section. “I was very naive,” says Nelson. “I thought it would be people giving their opinion on our performance. But nearly every comment was about the way I looked: ‘She’s a fat ugly rat’; ‘How has she got in this girl group?’; ‘How is the fat one in this?’” She remembers the air being thick with tension – “because no one knew what to do or how to react. “I felt a rush of anxiety, because I’d never experienced anything like that in my life. People were saying my face was deformed – just the most horrific things. I felt like I was heartbroken. I remember ringing my mum and saying: ‘Mum, I want to go home, I don’t want to do it.’” At about 1am, a member of The X Factor team found Nelson crying alone and asked why she was so upset. A couple of days later, she was asked to explain again – on camera. She didn’t want to do it. “They told me it wasn’t recorded, and it was.” A few weeks later, the clip of Nelson in tears over “a few nasty comments” was broadcast before Little Mix’s performance, the reality TV playbook of “sad piano” switching to upbeat pop music when Thirlwall comforts her: an uplifting moment of girl power. From then on, that was Nelson’s public narrative. She does not hold that clip, or the producers, responsible: “I think it would have always happened – that just added fuel to the fire.” From the start, relatability had been billed as a central tenet of Little Mix’s appeal. Contostavlos introduced them as “the girl group to represent ladies in this country”; she framed Nelson’s tears as evidence of Little Mix having “the same insecurities as every other girl”. Nelson, however, was the only member even remotely close to the average UK woman at size 16. Although the four bandmates have always been friends – “that’s why we’re still together” – she felt singled out. “I was with three other girls to be compared to. I don’t think it would have been as bad if I’d been on my own.” After the clip presented her as Little Mix’s weakest link, the abuse snowballed. “It was like as soon as people knew that it was really affecting me, they wanted to do it more.” Nelson had been bullied at school, to the point of stress-induced alopecia – “but this wasn’t playground stuff”. She was shocked by the cruelty from adults – some clearly parents. “Obviously everyone sits in their living room and will see someone on TV and make a comment. But to actually pick up your phone and go: ‘I’m going to make sure this girl sees it’ – even if they didn’t think I was going to see it – you have no idea the effect that one comment will have.” Nelson became “obsessed” with reading criticism. The praise didn’t register. “It only got worse when I got Twitter. And that led to the Daily Mail, and reading the [below the line] comments – the worst you can read about yourself. It was like I purposely wanted to hurt myself.” “I had a routine of waking up, going on Twitter, searching for the worst things I could about myself. I’d type in the search bar: ‘Jesy fat’, or ‘Jesy ugly’, and see what would come up. Sometimes I didn’t even need to do that, I’d just write ‘Jesy’ and then I’d see all the horrible things. Everyone told me to ignore it – but it was like an addiction.” At one event, Nicola Roberts of Girls Aloud – who had seen the clip of her crying – took Nelson aside. “She said: ‘Can I just give you one bit of advice? Please don’t read stuff about you. It’s the worst thing you could do.’” Nelson rolls her eyes self-mockingly. “But did I listen? No.” Contestants had been told help was available if they were struggling, but Nelson had learned that talking only made the problem worse. “I don’t think any of the team really knew how upset it was making me – it’s just go-go-go, from the car into hair and makeup, then rehearsals.” It was also a popularity contest. “We just wanted to make everyone happy, and we wanted everyone to like us.” In December 2011, Little Mix became the first group to win The X Factor. Their debut single entered the charts at No 1 seven months later; DNA, their first album, was released in November 2012. Scrutiny of Nelson only increased amid the pressure to maintain momentum. Although she tried not to discuss it, she feels the abuse came to define her public image. “I’d become a bit of a joke. People would make memes, chopping my head off in a group photo and putting a monster or ET on there. I’d be in live Q&As and these things would pop up and I’d have to just sit there.” Interviewers asked her how she dealt with it; fans said they looked up to her. She was depressed and in denial: she refused antidepressants, and therapy didn’t help. “Our schedule was so gruelling. I was going to see a therapist at six o’clock in the morning, crying, and then going to a photoshoot.” Meanwhile, in public, she was “giving speeches about being confident”. Little Mix, as the guardians of girl power, were not only supposed to represent every woman, but defend every woman. “I felt I had to be this person who was like …” Nelson juts her jaw, sashays from side to side, a facsimile of her sassy music-video persona: “‘I don’t care what people are saying about me, I’m this strong woman.’ That was the role I had to take on in the group, when really I was an absolute mess.” In the lead-up to TV performances or video shoots: “I’d starve myself … I’d drink Diet Coke for a solid four days and then, when I felt a bit dizzy, I’d eat a pack of ham because I knew it had no calories. Then I’d binge eat, then hate myself.” Yet she did not see herself as having an eating disorder. “I could see that I was losing weight and sometimes I’d see a few good comments and that spiralled me to be like: ‘This is how I need to stay.’ No one cares whether your performance was good, or if you sounded great.” Nelson started skipping events where she knew she would be photographed. On one magazine shoot, the wrong size clothes were provided. “I had a meltdown. I cried so much, I had to wear sunglasses. I did one photo, then left.” She hid her misery well, she says now. “I think people just thought I was a miserable bitch.” Her lowest point was in the lead-up to Little Mix’s second album, Salute, in 2013. Her mum, Janice, increasingly desperate, told her she had to quit the band. Yet Nelson worried that leaving – or even taking a break – would draw more attention to herself. “Everyone’s going to ask why.” In November 2013, Little Mix returned to The X Factor to perform their new single, Nelson notably slimmed down. Coverage centred on one tweet from Katie Hopkins: “Packet Mix have still got a chubber in their ranks. Less Little Mix. More Pick n Mix.” Increasingly, Nelson felt trapped. “I felt that I physically couldn’t tolerate the pain any more.” She attempted suicide. Nelson’s family, her management and the rest of the group knew – but “once it was spoken about, it wasn’t ever spoken about again,” she says. She was offered time off, but once more was too frightened of drawing attention to herself to take it. The turning point came in February 2014, when Little Mix spent six weeks travelling across North America, opening for Demi Lovato. One day, on the bus, the dancers pulled her aside and told her she had to quit Twitter, likening it to a book filled with “loads of nasty things” that Nelson always had her nose in. She finally deleted her account. “It was a long, hard process, because I didn’t want to help myself. But it wasn’t until I deleted Twitter that everything changed for me and I slowly started to feel normal again.” Through more regular therapy and talking to friends and family, eventually she was able to stop reading articles about herself, and distance herself from her public image even as Little Mix’s star continued to climb. In 2016, Glory Days became their first No 1 album in the UK. Since February, Nelson has been dating the 2017 Love Island contestant Chris Hughes, who has defended her publicly from online trolling and who she says is a positive influence on her feelings about fame: “It’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t give a shit about all that stuff.” Making the documentary also contributed; she lights up while talking about meeting a body-image specialist, Liz Ritchie, to help her understand her relationship with social media and the “mask” that she had developed to withstand the spotlight. Part of this involved going over footage from The X Factor, which was a difficult experience, but ultimately empowering. “Don’t get me wrong, I still have days when I feel shit in myself but instead of beating myself up about it and being miserable, I think: ‘OK, I’m going to have my moment of being sad, and I’ll be over it.’ Before, I didn’t let myself be sad.” Talking to other young people who have experienced online abuse made her feel less alone. “A lot of people think ‘stop moaning’, but until you’ve experienced it, it’s hard to understand – and it doesn’t just happen to people in the limelight. There’s so many people struggling with social media and online trolling. People need to know about the effects it has.” The turnaround in five years, she agrees, is remarkable: now, as Little Mix work on their sixth album, Nelson is less conscious of her weight, her appearance, what she’s eating – even what is being said about her. To shoot the documentary, she returned to Twitter, and discovered some new slurs. “I didn’t even know some people said that about me, but it’s because I don’t look for it – and also, I. Don’t. Care,” she says, leaning forward in her chair. “Now I’m mentally a lot happier, I just think people are always going to have an opinion. But I only care about mine.” She flashes a smile from beneath all her hair, happy but defiant – and for a moment she looks exactly like the girl in the music videos.

[kayteewritessteve]

If Only You Knew - Epilogue

Description: You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day was going to come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friend and the secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him, and everything else that happened on that horrible night. Who would have knew that your prom would end up being a total disaster, and the very last night you’d spend in Buckhannon for the next 7 years? you certainly didn’t. That’s for sure.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 9,200 ish. Sheesh, this is a ‘giant’ one! See what I did there ;) Sorry, not sorry!

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Bad and offensive jokes. Possible triggering thoughts, feelings and emotions. Moments of bullying and harsh name calling. Lots of curse words. And a very sloooow burn.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Well, here it is!!!! The final part to the If Only You Knew series. And this is so bittersweet, I am so glad to finally give this story an end, but i’m also going to miss this lovable gang of friends and this story in general. But I have a few other AU’s in store for you all, so stay tuned for those. And that’s about it. I hope you all love this epilogue and I can’t wait to hear what you all think about this ending. Also, I want to note that this chapter might be a little confusing to follow, so play close attention to the timestamp years, they will help you. Anywho, ENJOY!! ♥️

The sun filtering in through the sheer hotel room curtains, along with the incessant ringing of your phone’s alarm, both wake you from your peaceful, be it short, slumber. You quickly reach over to silence the alarm and then are just about to groan, but halt the action when you remember exactly what day it is. It’s wedding day!!!

You stretch from your place still sheltered under the soft duvet and then flip it off you to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you do. You blink the haze away for a moment then stand and wander over to the closet to retrieve your customized silk robe, putting it on over your pj shorts and tank top. And then head to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

You hear your hotel room door flung open, followed by a shrieked, “get up!! It’s wedding day!!” that could only come from one person, Nat. Followed by a whispered, “where the fuck is she?!” clearly from Hilde.

You poke your head out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth, to mumble happily around it, “right the fuck here.” Then you slip back into the bathroom to finish brushing, not missing Nat whining, “hurry up!” as you do.

You chuckle, totally understanding her current excitement level. Today was going to be a big day for all of you. And you’re not gonna lie, you’re just as excited as she is, if not more.

This day has been so many years in the making, and your whole group of friends were ridiculously excited for it. To say the least.

You finally enter back into the bedroom, then you all head down to the party room in the hotel, the one that was rented specifically for you ladies to get ready in.

You walk into the room to see a bar counter covered in mimosas, coffee, tea and an assortment of fruits, treats and breakfast foods. Which of course you instantly make your way to, receiving a snort from Wanda as you do. “You would go straight to the coffee.”

“I’ll have you know, I was far too excited to sleep. So coffee will be the only thing keeping me up right today. Well, that and sheer excitement,” you smirk and quickly make a cup, taking a few large sips then hum, happily.

There is a knock at the door and Hilde goes to check it, finding the hair stylist and makeup artist standing in the hall. They both come in and start to set up their stations as you continue to just happily drink your coffee in silence. Nat, Hilde, Wanda and Rebecca all join you and proceed to make up plates of food, and drinks, alongside you.

And then there is another knock on the door, this time Rebecca answers it and it’s the photographers. She invites them in and they quickly exchange a few words with Nat and then begin to take pictures of the room, the dresses and all of you standing around enjoying the morning. Clearly documenting all the little parts of this wedding, starting with you ladies getting ready for it.

After a few minutes the makeup artist informs you that they are ready to start, and Nat goes for hair first, while Rebecca goes for makeup. Leaving Hilde, Wanda and yourself to eat, chat and wait for your turns.

“Have you both decided how you want your hair done?” You ask them as they sip their mimosas.

“Fully down, all curled,” Hilde answers.

“And I was thinking curled as well, but half up, half down,” Wanda says then looks at you, “what’s your plan?”

“Ah,” you hum for a moment, thinking, “I think I’ll do a full up-do.” You shrug, “maybe have a few pieces hanging down.”

“I like it,” Hilde nods.

“Sounds beautiful,” Wanda adds with a smile, and then the photographer walks up towards you three, snapping photos of you all just chatting, before he ventures off to take a few pictures of the other ladies having their makeup and hair done.

“I feel like a celebrity, with this photographer running around snapping shots,” Hilde laughs.

“Same,” you and Wanda say at the same time and then both giggle before taking another sip of each of your beverages.

As the morning progresses on, all of you ladies get your hair and makeup done, then help each other into your dresses. When there is only about 10 minutes to go before the wedding actually starts there is another knock on the door. Wanda goes to see who it is and finds Winnie holding James Jr—who looks freaking adorable in his little ring bearer suit—and your dad. Who looks so handsome all dressed up in his black suit and tie. Winnie puts James down and he runs towards Rebecca, instantly.

“Well don’t you just look so handsome in your suit,” she coos at him and he giggles as she picks him up. You can’t help the giant smile on your face as you watch how her and James interact. You are so proud of the mom she has become, and James is one lucky kid.

“Do I look so handsome in my suit?” your dad asks and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You chuckle at this ridiculous man, “yeah, but not as handsome as James.”

He pouts for a second then kisses your cheek, “you ladies all ready to go?”

You nod, “yep, I believe we are all set.”

You all grab the last few things then head out of the room to go get into position next to the closed chapel doors. Making sure that none of you will be seen until it’s your turn to walk, and that everyone knows their places. Then you all just wait for the wedding march song to start.

When you finally hear it playing through the doors, Winnie opens them and ushers Rebecca to go first. Then Hilde. Then Wanda. Then Nat. And then finally she takes James’ hand and the hand of the flower girl, your Aunt Carol’s daughter, Lashana, and wishes you luck before they begin their walk down the aisle, towards their seats at the front.

You take a deep breath, this is it. This is the moment you marry the love of your life and you couldn’t be happier.

You feel your dad take your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, which causes you to look up at him. “You look stunning,” he smiles, “and you got this, you’ll do great.”

You can feel the tears slowly forming in your eyes as you nod to his words, and whisper, “thank you, daddy,” as you attempt to blink away the happy tears.

You were about to marry the man you’d loved for 11 years. The man you’d swear, up and down, was made entirely for you. The last 2 years hadn’t been easy, but you wouldn’t have traded them, or him, for anything. You’re mind starts to flash back to a few different memories from the last 2 years, the main ones that all led up to this exact moment. Your wedding day.

July 2018 - 2 years ago.

You were standing next to the dessert table at Nat and Bucky’s wedding reception. It had been a beautiful day all around. And you were so happy for your two best friends.

The bachelor/bachelorette party had done a complete 180 after your talk with Steve, and ended up being an amazing night for all of you. You’d gone home with Steve that night, but not for the reasons most would think. You’d both had a lot to drink and knew you couldn’t make proper choices that night. Nor did you want your first time together to be like that.

It was just that, at the end of the night out, neither of you were ready to part ways, not after years of being apart and finally voicing how you both felt. So you went home with him and you both just laid on his bed talking till the wee hours of the morning.

Going over everything, all the moments you both thought something was there but ignored. Turns out, there actually was always something there for both of you. Especially that first day at the lake, where you almost kissed him. You learned he wasn’t upset because you almost kissed him that day, no, he was upset because you hadn’t. And the moment on the field, the day he beat up Johann, as you’d just learned that night, he had almost kissed you that day.

You both spent most of that night with wide eyes and murmurs of ‘idiots’. Because that’s what you’d both felt like after learning all the truths. You’d also learned that those anonymous roses on your porch, from that first Valentine’s Day in town, yeah, those were from him. And that he’d also bought 17 roses–one for each month you’d known each other, the cornball—originally through the school but Madeleine had deleted the order. It was insane how much you were oblivious to back then, but it was all out there now.

You both finally passed out around 8am, and slept most of the day away. But when you woke up, Steve wasn’t beside you anymore. You looked to where he had been when you’d passed out and saw 14 roses on his pillow, along with a note that read, ‘1 for every Valentine’s Day I missed, plus every birthday. I’ll be downstairs making breakfast when you wake up. Come find me.’ With a smiley face drawing below the words.

You jumped out of bed, looking down to instantly remember that he’d lent you a t-shirt and sweatpants to sleep in. It wasn’t an overly cute look, as the pants barely stayed up and the bottoms covered your entire feet. Fucking giant. You giggled then decided to forgo the pants entirely. And ventured down to the kitchen in just his shirt. Hoping it would make him sweat, just a little—and oh boy, had it ever. Except, a lot more than ‘just a little’.

You both ended up spending the whole night together, going to your house to grab some clothes and then passing out early, once again together in Steve’s bed. And when the alarms began to go off the next morning, you both begrudgingly pulled yourselves out of bed. Got dressed, shared a heated kiss that neither of you wanted to end, and then went your separate ways to get ready for the wedding. Hilde and Wanda scooped you from Steve’s place, instantly demanding details. Which you happily gave them, needing to just gush about the last 24 hours.

So now, here you were, loading up a plate of desserts at Nat and Bucky’s wedding, because let’s be honest, you were a sucker for treats, when a voice behind you sends a chill down your spin. “I hear you both finally voiced your feelings.”

You cringed and slowly glanced over your shoulder to see Madi standing a few feet behind you. “That’s not really any of your business, Madeleine,” you replied, coldly.

She took a few steps towards you, now standing directly behind you, so you sighed deeply, not really in the mood for her shit right now. Or ever, really. But especially not today. Then you turned to face her, and just as you did she spoke again.

“You don’t deserve him,” she whispered harshly, “you aren’t good enough for him.”

And normally her words would have hurt you, but at this point in your life, you could honestly care less what she thought of you. You’d finally gotten the one man you’d always wanted, and nothing, or more specifically, noone, could ruin this for you. You were on cloud 9 and refused to ever come back down. “Well you see, you may think that, but Steve doesn’t, and more importantly, I don’t.” You shrug, “so, say whatever you’d like. But your opinions on this don’t matter. We are both happy, and nothing you can say or do will change that this time. So honestly, fuck off back to your miserable little life and stay the hell away from us.” You smile, smugly and go to turn back to your mission at hand. Getting more of those delicious treats on your plate.

“You bitch,” she hisses and grabs your arm to stop you from turning away from her, “you think I was mean to you in school, oh, just you fucking wait. Once I marry Tony, I’ll be around Steve for the rest of our lives. And so long as you’re there, I’ll make sure to do everything in my power to mess this all up for you. You don’t get the happily ever after with the man I love. I won’t let you. I’ll happily break you both up and then show him he should have picked me.”

“Wow,” you said slowly, the true evil that is Madeleine fucking Karlington finally showing through to you. I mean, you always knew she was a horrible person, but you never realized it was to this extent. “What about Tony? And how exactly will you ‘show Steve he should have picked you’ if you’re married to his brother?” You ask, honestly just curious how she plans to play this all out. And just like the true evil genius she is, she spills her whole master plan to you, thinking she had the upper hand here.

“I know you’re only asking because you think you can run to Tony and tell him all of this. But he won’t believe you. Just like he didn’t believe Steve. So I’ll tell you, just so you know exactly how I’ll be taking Steve back from you.” She smirks, “I plan to leave Tony once I win Steve back. I’ll start by claiming Tony is abusing me after a little while of marriage and that’s why I don’t love him anymore, and want out. And Steve will spring to my defence and then I’ll work my magic on him. And the rest will just fall into place,” she shrugged and you honestly wanted to throw up at how nasty and vile this woman is.

But as you were about to make your rebuttal, a form shifted behind you and you glanced over Madeleines shoulder to see Steve standing there with a disgusted expression on his face. But that wasn’t the form you’d seen shift. No, the one you saw move was Tony, his upper arm gripped tightly by Steve, as if he’d just dragged his older brother over here, kicking and screaming. You figured he had.

You weren’t entirely sure how long they’d been there. Or just how much they’d heard. But the hurt and angry expression on Tony’s face made you believe they’d witness damn near the whole thing. You’re eyes shifted from Tony’s form to Steve, locking on his eyes for a moment before you flicked them back to Madeleine.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan, Madi, however,” you pause and go to step around her, “I don’t think it’s going to play out exactly how you were imagining it would.” Then you walked passed her and she turned to probably say something back to you, but froze when she saw you stand next to Steve. Who released his brothers arm and patted him on the shoulder, apologetically.

Then he took your hand and led you away, but you didn’t miss Madeleine going to speak and Tony cutting her off with a harsh, “don’t bother. We’re done.” Then he stormed off, with Madi hot on his heels, begging him to listen. But he didn’t. He ended his engagement with her that night, and cancelled the wedding the following day.

And as far as you know, Madeleine stayed single for a while, living with her mother but then shortly after Steve proposed you heard from Rebecca that Madi had up and moved away to LA. Where she still lived to this day. Most likely still miserable and alone. But you honestly could care less how she felt. You were just glad you didn’t have to see her ever again.

August 2018 - 2 years ago.

You spent the 2 weeks following Bucky and Nat’s wedding with Steve. You both were damn near inseparable, and you’d basically lived at his house during that time. But as time ticked on, you realized you had some big decisions to make.

Steve had been a sweetheart, as always, and hadn’t brought any of the big topics up. But you could tell they were weighing on him. Just as they were on you. Him being the amazing man he was though, he just left it alone, allowing you to think and figure out exactly how you wanted to play this out. Letting you come to a conclusion entirely on your own. However, this really wasn’t just about what you wanted anymore. What he wanted had to play a part in all of this.

So one night, you sat him down and decided to break the little bubble you’d both been happily living in over the last two weeks. Hoping the outcome of this talk would be what you both wanted.

“So, I think we really need to figure out what to do about Boston,” you started, hesitantly.

He nodded, “yeah. I think you’re right.” He paused, and frowned for a moment, but then quickly corrected it, “what do you want to do about it?”

“I’ve thought a lot about it over the last few weeks and I think I may have figured out a game plan,” you said softly, “I’ll need to return to Boston for a bit, to work everything out on that end though.”

He looked down at his hands in his lap and nodded slowly, waiting for you to continue. You started to believe that maybe he thought you’d be leaving for a while and that maybe you wouldn’t be able to come back right away. But ooooh, how wrong he was. “But I’d like you to come with me, as it will be a lot easier to pack and move with your help,” you shrugged, though he probably missed it.

His eyes instantly snapped up to meet yours and his eyebrows tried to high five his hairline—And by ‘tried’ you mean they successfully did. “Wait, what?”

You giggled at the cute, dazed look on his face then continued on, “I, ah, sort of emailed my resignation to my boss a few days ago, and got her confirmation back that same day. I, then, sent my resume to Shield High and they just emailed me yesterday to say they were very excited to see my resume come in, and that they wanted to set up an interview. Which is in 3 days.”

“Holy fuck,” he whispered slowly, clearly now piecing it all together in his head, “are you serious?” He asked breathlessly.

You smiled and nodded, quickly. So excited to hear what he thought of all of this. “I am.”

He shot up off the couch and pulled you up with him. Wrapping you in a giant bear hug, and after a few seconds you realized you were vibrating slightly, and it dawned on you just how excited he was. He was literally bouncing. “Oh shit,” he whispered, happily, “this is the best thing I have heard in weeks!” He kissed the top of your head, then froze, “wait, where are you going to live?!”

“I already talked to my dad, and if I get the job at Shield High, I’ll be moving in with him at first, while I get settled in and then I’ll look for a place later on.”

“You could live with me?” He said quietly into your hair and your smile grew even bigger.

You pulled back to look up at him, seeing the hesitant but overjoyed look in his eyes, “although I’d love that, so so much. I think we really need to do this right. I do want to move in with you, one day, but just not this soon. I want the cute moments where you pick me up from my house for a date. Or where I get to sleep at your house after the odd one, and it’s new and exciting because it isn’t my home.” You take his hand and squeeze it, “if all of this goes how we want it to, we will have many, many years of living together, but they will be when we are both ready. And not just because I don’t really have a place to live,” you giggled and he smiled down at you.

“I totally get it. And I want those cute moments too.” He smirked, “so, speaking of dates, when are you free next.” Then he winked in an overly exaggerated manner at you, and it took everything in you to not laugh and call him a cheeseball. Because honestly, you wouldn’t have him any other way. He is perfect just the way he is. One giant, soft, cheeseball.

“For you? I’m always free,” you jokingly wink back and then you both break out into a fit of happy laughter.

September 2018 - 2 years ago.

“Is that the last of it?” Steve asked as he stood in your, now empty, Boston apartment holding a big box labelled ‘bathroom’ on the side in sharpie.

“I think so,” you said softly as you stood in the middle of your empty living room. You slowly did a 360, taking in just how different this place looked, without all your belongings in it. “I just have that little box on the counter then we can go drop off the keys.”

He smiled and nodded, “okay, I’ll meet you at the van.” Then he walked out the door and left you to be alone. You assumed it was so you could say goodbye to the place you called home for the last few years.

You did a final walk around the apartment, that moment being bittersweet, you were going to miss this little shitty apartment, but you were also so excited for what the future held for you. And Steve. “Thanks for all the good years,” you said softly as you rubbed a hand along the kitchen counter then picked up the last little box.

You’d gone for your interview at Shield High, and they’d damn near hired you on the spot. Well, they’d actually called to officially offer you the job the following day, but same thing. So you and Steve booked his time off, 2 weeks, and then two plane tickets so you could both come up to Boston to collect all your things.

You gave your notice to your apartment manager, who was sad to see you go, but excited for you. You paid the final months rent and then spent a few days showing Steve your favourite parts of Boston. Before the rest of the two weeks was spent packing and cleaning.

You rented a moving truck and were both going to drive back to Buckhannon together in it, along with all your possessions.

You’d done the final walk through with your building manager that morning, and then there you were. Standing for the final time in your little kitchen holding the final box.

“I hope the next tenant loves you just as much as I did,” you whispered then headed out the door, putting the box down to lock up for the final time and then picked up the box and went to hand in your keys.

The ride back was a lot of fun, you and Steve stopped along the way to enjoy the sights, and spent 1 night in a little motel as the 11 hour drive was a little too much to do all at once, especially after many days of packing and cleaning.

When you finally reached home, you unpacked all your belongings into a corner of your dad’s garage. Well, minus your bedroom and bathroom things, those you brought up to your room and unpacked. You figured it would be smarter just to leave everything packed away until you either found your own place or moved in with Steve. Whichever came first.

You got yourself all settled in just in time for the school year to start, and the very first day of class you knew, instantly, that this was the job for you. You loved every student equally, and couldn’t wait for all the fun things you had planned for them, for throughout the upcoming school year.

July 2019 - 1 year ago.

You and Steve had been together for a year now, and so, for your 1 year anniversary, he had this elaborate plan that you weren’t allowed to know a fucking thing about. No matter how much you begged him, or tried to blackmail your friends—once you learned they were all in on it. But none of them would give you anything, and the only person you may have been able to crack—Sam—was nowhere to be found.

And the odd time when you did track him down. He. Was. Never. Alone. Either Hilde would be with him, or Wanda. OR, in some cases, Bucky. All those turds knew Sam was the weak link and they refused to let you break him down. Traitors. So you gave up, finally, and just waited for the special day.

Wanda had brought you a dress the night before, with a note attached to it that read, ‘A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman, I’ll be here to pick you up at 10am. So be ready. No sleeping in!’ You’d laughed. Like your excitement would even allow you to sleep that night, let alone sleep in.

So at 9:45am you stood on your front porch, ready and waiting. And when he showed up at 9:50am, slightly early, you weren’t surprised in the least, he was always early. This was actually late for him, if you were being honest.

He got out of the truck, to come get you. Telling you how stunning you looked in the dress, which fit like a glove, you figured you’d have to thank Wanda for that one. Then he offered you his hand, walked you to the truck, and opened the door for you. You tried to pry any details out of him once he got in the driver’s seat, but all he told you was, “you’ll have to wait and see.” The smirk on his face only made you want to know more.

The first stop confused you, it was your work, or rather, Shield High. You went to ask, but all he did was shake his head as he got out of the truck, he opened your door and led you inside. How he got keys for the school on a Saturday, you had no clue. But you just went along with it.

He led you to a place in the hall and then stopped. You looked around and realized it was the place you’d originally bumped into him that first day of school, all those years ago. And you INSTANTLY knew where this anniversary date was going, but you kept that to yourself and just played along. Not wanting to ruin a single moment of this day for yourself, or more importantly, him. Since he had clearly planned this out way more then you’d originally thought.

“This, was the exact spot where we first met,” he started as he turned to look down at you, and you had to force yourself to not grin like an idiot, or cry—Shit, that was a very real thing that might happen right now if you didn’t put solid effort into keeping your tears at bay. This was only the first stop, you can’t cry yet.

“I thought you were absolutely stunning, instantly, and something in me that day knew you’d play some huge role in my life, I just never could have fathomed how true that feeling would end up being. Or just how important you’d end up becoming to me. Nor was I aware that day, just how desperate I was for someone like you in my life. All I knew then was that I had to know you; the mystery new girl who hinted that she was used to going unseen, called me cute and then looked adorable with a giant goose egg on her head,” he paused. “Which I still feel horrible about, by the way,” he added then chuckled as his fingers lightly rubbed the spot on your head where the goose egg had been, all those years ago. You laughed at that, and it was a watery laugh from the tears that wanted to escape, but you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“It was a hell of a meet cute, though,” you said with a smile.

“Truer words have never been said,” he smiled back. “Okay, on to the next place.” He offered you his hand and you happily took it. He then led you out onto the field and stopped in a place you knew all too well. “This is where I finally got to actually talk to you, sort of. I was super awkward when we first joined you ladies that day, but only because I was so nervous, and unsure as to what to even say to you. You looked so interested in your book and I didn’t want to bother you. But when you got up and left the group abruptly, I realized I may have made you upset and couldn’t let you stay that way.” He pointed towards the school, “so I chased after you, without so much as a word to our friends, and basically forced you to let me walk you to your locker.” He turned back to look at you, “it was the best choice I’ve ever made.”

“I’m also glad you made that decision, that day.”

He smirked at you, “because you had no clue where you were going?”

You burst out laughing, then lightly swatted his arm, “rude! I totally knew where I was going!”

“I call bullshit,” he laughed, “but that day I realized that I’d happy lead you anywhere you needed to go. So long as you needed me to, and kept smiling, that beautiful smile, at me.”

That, of course, made you smile. Shocker.

“Yes, that one,” he said as he pointed at your lips, “that’s my favourite one.” Then he leaned down and kissed you softly. But the kiss ended far too quickly for your liking, as he took your hand and led you towards the student parking lot. Where his truck was currently parked. But before you even reached the truck, he stopped again.

“And this spot,” he turned to you again, “was the first place I ever had the overwhelming want to kiss you. It wasn’t the only spot, but it was the first. And that probably had to do with you saying I was,” he paused and smirked again, “‘fucking built’ if I remember correctly?”

“Oh god, you heard that?” You cringed at just how awkward you were that day.

“Oh yeah,” he pulled you flush against him, gently, “I heard it,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss you again, before pulling back to hum, “aah, that’s better. That’s how that moment should have played out.” Then he excitedly continued on towards his truck, pulling you along with him, which caused you to laugh loudly at this giant, cheeseball.

The next stop was Sam’s house, though you didn’t go in, nor did you see Sam. Steve just led you to the backyard and you saw that everything had been set up just like it was that first birthday of his, the first one you’d been in town for. Even down to the paper with ‘Fire pit reserved, so piss off!’ written on it and attached to a chair.

You looked up at him, after taking it all in and saw that he had just been watching you, as you did.

“This spot is special,” he said then turned to glance around, “it will also be the only spot I show from that night.” He looked at you again, “unless you want a piggyback ride to Nat’s house?” He smirked.

You smirked right back, as you recited the same words you’d said that night, “a piggyback ride does sound very tempting,” you hummed it over for a second. “Yeah, who am I kidding? I’d never turn down a free ride,” you winked and then you both laughed.

“Okay, but it will have to wait till later. We have a schedule to keep,” he said then looked around again, thoughtfully, as he spoke, “this was the place where you gave me the best birthday gift I could have ever asked for. It wasn’t some fancy, expensive gift, like I’d received from others in the past. No, you actually thought it out. Put effort into it. And it was perfect, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. And it warmed my heart to think of you setting it all up for me, and just how well you already knew me. Even after such a short amount of time.” He turned to smile at you, “but you almost always knew exactly what to do to warm my heart. It was like it just came naturally to you. Which didn’t go unnoticed.”

“Honestly, I was so nervous about that night, I was worried it wouldn’t be enough. I’d wanted to do more for you, but you are seriously so difficult to buy for.” You both laughed again.

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” he said, “but honestly, it’s the thought that matters. I’m not big into buying gifts, I have everything I could ever want. Or need. I just love how you find the little ways to show me that you’re thinking of me. To show me that you care.”

“Okay, noted,” you said with a nod, “that’s easy enough to accomplish, when all I can ever think about is you. And I do care about you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“Oh,” he raised an eyebrow at you, “I’m all you can ever think about?”

“Oh god,” you playfully groaned, “please don’t let that go to your giant ego.”

“Too late,” he chuckled, “and it’s only giant because of you.”

“Well shit,” you mumbled, jokingly, “I knew I shouldn’t have complimented you so much.”

He laughed loudly at that, “we’re already here, so no point in stopping now. Keep the compliments coming.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, but then he continued on, “but this spot wasn’t just about what you did for me that night, it was also going to be the place I finally confessed my feelings for you.” He sighed then mumbled, “but I kept getting interrupted.”

“Really? You were going to tell me that night?” You asked, wide eyed.

He nodded, “I was. I’d planned on telling you that night, for weeks. Bucky even knew about it.”

“That little bugger!” You joked, knowing full well Bucky would never go behind Steve’s back on anything, let alone something as big as him having feelings for someone. Even if it would have made all of this a whole lot easier. But would you have even believed Bucky if he had come to you telling you about Steve’s true feelings for you? Probably not.

“Oh trust me, he begged me many times to just tell you. He even threatened to tell you himself once, if I didn’t get my shit together fast enough. He clearly never ended up telling you, but for a few days there, I honestly panicked, thinking that he was going to,” he laughed.

“That sounds like something Bucky would do,” you laughed as well, “he’s always been the pushy one.” You paused, “well, him and Nat.” Another pause, “oh god, they really are so perfect for each other.”

“They are. But they aren’t the only ones,” he smiled down at you, and you instantly knew what he meant by that. Because you and him were also so perfect for each other.

“That they aren’t,” you said back.

He took your hand, giving your knuckles a gentle kiss as he murmured, “on to the next spot.” And then he led you back to the truck.

But you didn’t miss the curtains moving in Sam’s house. And instantly you knew he had most likely been watching. The lurker. You chuckled causing Steve to look back at you but you waved it off, “I’ll tell you later.” To which he just smiled and nodded as he opened the truck door for you, again.

The next stop was the lake, specifically in front of the concession stand. The exact spot you both stood and waited for your food that day. The spot where you had almost kissed Steve for the first time.

“You already know that I wanted to kiss you that day at the lake—or that I wanted you to kiss me,” he corrected.

“And that you pouted about it for the rest of the night,” you ribbed him, lovingly.

He gasped and feigned offence, “yeah, well you would have too if the girl of your dreams was about to kiss you and then literally pulled away as if you were on fire,” he pouted. “Then apologized for almost kissing you, because she, and I quote, ‘didn’t mean to’.”

“Ouch,” you said slowly, “yeah, okay, I’ll let you have that one,” you giggled, “you actually remembered my exact words?”

“Thanks for that,” he scoffed, “and yeah, I had nightmares about that day for weeks. And I say nightmares because even in my dreams, you never kissed me in that moment.”

“Awe,” you coo, “my poor baby.” You smirked and watched as he feigned offence again, but then the look quickly disappeared from his face.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that one, Y/L/N,” he said as he reached out and grabbed you, you didn’t even have a chance to attempt to avoid him this time. He was too fast.

He then began to tickle you, and you forfeited damn near instantly. “Okay! Okay! I give! I give!”

He stopped tickling you, and you pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips. Pulling away after a moment, “there, does that make up for not kissing you the first time?”

“No, but it’s a step in the right direction,” he said before pulling you back into him for another few kisses.

After a moment he pulled away to glance at his watch, “okay, we have to go, there is something we have to pick up soon.” You gave him a quizzical look but he just shook his head, “you’ll have to wait and see.” Then he walked you back to the truck.

A little bit later you pulled into Huddle House’s parking lot, and instantly your mouth watered, he looked over at you and laughed. “Wait here,” he said as he hopped out of the truck and went inside, coming out a few minutes later with 2 brown bags in his hands.

He climbed back into the truck and handed you one, “now, I was going to take you out to some fancy restaurant for dinner, but I figured you’d appreciate this a little more.”

You happily took the bag, “oh gosh,” you groaned, “it smells just as divine as I remember.” You contently sighed then peeked in the bag and took a giant whiff of the glorious smell.

Steve chuckled as he watched you, “but does it,” he raised his hand up as if to show the words up in lights as he spoke, “Smell Divine, Every Time?”

You burst out laughing, “oh god, you remember that too?”

“I remember everything. You’re kind of hard to forget, plus you’re weird. So that helps.” He smiled sweetly as you scoffed at him and then you both dug into the bags. And just like always, you had to search for the dang fork. You eventually found it with a triumphant ‘ha!’ That was followed closely by a happy, “oh damn, it also still looks better than it smells.”

To which Steve murmured between bites, “you always say that.”

Once the food was finished you looked over at him, feeling so pleasantly full, “amazing choice. That was perfect, I’m so glad you picked here instead of some fancy restaurant.”

“I’m glad to hear it, I figured you’d like this more,” he said as he collected up all the garbage and got out of the truck to throw it away.

Once he was done that, he climbed back in, “okay, so this spot was to signify that first summer I spent away from you. That was the summer I knew it wasn’t just some silly crush, and that I truly loved you, and everything about you. Being away from you for those 2 months was hell, but coming home and seeing you again made it all better. That morning will forever be etched into my mind.”

“Mine too,” you said softly, “that was actually the summer I realized my true feelings for you, as well.”

His eyes widened slightly, “really?”

You nodded, “yeah.”

“Wow,” he said slowly, “what are the odds?”

You shrugged, “1 in a million, I’d bet.”

“Sounds about right,” he smiled, “okay, let’s go.”

You both buckled up then headed off. Pulling into High Life’s parking lot soon after. And your heart rate had instantly sped up. He hadn’t said this would be the final spot, but you just knew it was going to be. This was it. The moment you've always dreamed of. Well, the first big moment in a domino effect of moments to follow.

He hopped out and opened the door for you, then led you to the exact spot you’d shared, not only your true feelings but also your first kiss.

He stood there quietly for a moment, hands in his pockets, just staring up at the bar, “and this, this is where my favourite chapter, so far, started.”

He turned to you, “God, that night started off complete shit but it turned out to be, hands down, the best night of my life, so far.” He smiled and took your hand, and you were damn near screaming on the inside, “honestly, Y/N, the words I said to you that night were so true at the time, I did love you so much back then.” He paused and the look in his eyes softened a bit, “but now, now I realize that I barely loved you at all. Not truly at least, not fully.” He shook his head, “I could have never loved you then, like I do now. Not without having the last year to learn all about you as my girlfriend, instead of my best friend. Not without getting to see you first thing in the morning, no makeup and messy hair—”

“The messy hair is entirely your fault,” you interjected and he just chuckled and shhh’d you then whispered, “I have no regrets about that.” Which he finished off with a wink.

You giggled and then he continued on, “as I was saying. I couldn’t love you truly back then without learning that you like to spend Sunday mornings in bed, reading and marking your students assignments. Or that you prefer to shower first thing in the morning, as opposed to at night. Or that you always do the Sunday crosswords in pen, so no one else can do it. Or really, any of the many other amazing things that I’ve learned about you in the last year.”

He slowly lowered down to one knee and pulled a little box out of his pants pocket, and you straight up almost squealed. No joke, you had to quickly slap your free hand over your mouth to stop the noise from escaping. “Basically, all that was to say, I love you more now then I did then. The first time we found ourselves in this very spot. And I want to continue to not only learn about you, but to love you even more, as I do.” He released your hand to quickly open the box, then took it again, “So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour of marrying me, and allowing me to love you, more and more, for the rest of our lives?”

And then the squeal finally escaped you, you honestly couldn’t have stopped it even if you’d tried, “yes! Oh god, yes!” You fell to your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you and crashing your lips to his. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist as kissed you back with everything he had.

You pulled away after a moment, when the cheers finally reached your ears and then glanced around in search of the cause. Instantly noticing the little gang of 6 people standing off to the side of the parking lot. And you knew exactly who they all were, without a shadow of a doubt.

Steve stood up then helped you up off your knees, he placed the ring on your finger then turned to quickly glance at your friends before turning back to you, to whisper, “I tried to tell them we’d come see them after all of this, but they weren’t having any of it. They refused to miss this moment,” he chuckled fondly.

“That sounds like them,” you laughed then waved them over, “they wouldn’t be our merry band of misfits if they weren’t,” you started and then yelled the next part for them to hear, “overbearing and pushy as hell.”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed, “we heard that!”

“That was the point, Sammy,” you smirked at him.

He paused then shrugged as he said, “honestly, I can’t even deny that, all of us are those things,” he laughed.

“And we like it that way,” Bucky added.

You all excitedly chatted in the parking lot for a bit, then all ventured into High Life to celebrate.

All throughout the night you’d glanced down at the beautiful ring on your finger and a smile would break out on your face, then you’d glance at Steve and your smile would grow even bigger. And every time you’d look at him, it was like he could feel it, and he’d look back at you. Then smile himself, as if he knew why you were looking at him.

The night ended up being an amazing one. But honestly, you were too happy for it to be anything but amazing.

January 2020 - 5 months ago.

You’d tried on 24 dresses so far and were reaching the point of being fed up and done with dress shopping. You could picture the exact dress you wanted in your head, but finding it, that wasn’t so easy. You’d gone to 5 different bridal shops in search of your dream dress, and had come up short at all of them—Well, you were currently still in bridal shop number 5, so it couldn’t be ruled out just yet, but you weren’t too hopeful it wouldn’t be ruled out soon. Like the others.

So you just stood there, in the little silk robe they give you when trying on dresses and waited for the attendant to return. You’d tried on 3 dresses so far during this appointment and as you were taking off the 3rd one the attendant froze and said, “oh! I think I know exactly which dress to try next.” Then she quickly mumbled a, “be right back,” and tore out of the room to grab the dress. But once again, you weren’t hopeful it would be a success.

At this point you were resigning yourself to just marrying Steve in some damn jeans. It would be fitting to your relationship. But before you could venture too far down that rabbit hole, the attendant knocked and entered the room, a dress in a clear bag draped over her shoulder.

She helped you into the dress and then clipped it tightly to your form at the back before she helped turn you towards the mirror. You gasped, and the tears instantly formed in your eyes as you took in the sight. In this exact moment, you felt like a bride. And you instantly knew, “this is the dress,” you whispered, breathlessly.

“Oh yay!” The attendant cheered happily from behind you, “okay, let’s go show it to your group.” She adjusted one of the clips and then lifted up the bottom to help you walk.

You climbed up onto the podium and turned to your friends and your dad. Who were all currently speechless. And that caused your tears to finally break the confines of your lower lids, and run happily down your cheeks, as you chuckled out a watery, “so, what do you guys think?”

“Perfect,” Wanda sniffled.

“Breathtaking,” Hilde nodded, wiping a stray tear away.

“Oh god, you’re a vision,” your Aunt Carol whispered.

“I’m more emotional about seeing you in this dress, then I was about my own,” Nat said through a breathless chuckle as she grabbed a kleenex and dapped below her eyes.

You nodded happily, then turned to your dad, who still hadn’t said a word yet, “what do you think, daddy?”

He glanced up and down at the dress for a moment then met your eyes. And you realized his were now also filled with tears. “Oh, kiddo. This is it,” he nodded and smiled, “this is the dress.”

“Yeah?” You asked as you looked down at the dress then at all of them.

“Oh yeah,” they all said in unison.

“Steve is going to fall over when he sees you walking down the aisle towards him in that,” Hilde said and you laughed loudly at that thought.

“I hope not, can’t have him injured on our honeymoon,” you smirked, and then burst out laughing again when you heard your dad groan loudly from his place on the couch.

“I didn’t need to hear that,” he shook his head, and mumbled, “I can’t unhear that now.”

You finally calmed down your laughing fit enough to tell the attendant you’d take the dress. Even though she’d probably already figured that out.

Your dad bought the dress for you, not even allowing the attendant to tell you how much it cost. His exact words were, “the price doesn’t matter. This is the dress and I’ll be damned if you don’t get to walk down the aisle wearing it.”

And that’s exactly what you’d get to do.

June 2020 - Present.

“It’s our time, kiddo,” your dads soft words pull you back to the present and you blink away the flash backs and turn to smile at him.

You take a deep breath, “then what are we waiting for,” you excitedly reply and then both doors are pulled open for you to make your grand entrance, on the arm of the first man you ever loved. The same arm that will soon pass you off to the last man you’ll ever love.

After one more glance at your father, who is clearly trying not to cry, you take a step through the doors and your eyes instantly find Steve’s. And the look on his face says it all.

He breaks the eye contact for a moment, to glance the full length of you, and then those beautiful deep blues lock back with yours and even from down the aisle, you can see the tears building up in them. And that almost makes you cry, but you manage to hold it together, determined to not ruin your makeup before he gets an up close look at you.

You reluctantly break the eye contact, in the hopes it will help you hold back the tears, and then you glance at the people in the pews on either side of the aisle. Seeing Thor and Vis sitting beside each other, giant smiles on their handsome faces and both looking dapper in their suits.

Then you see Laura and the kids, all dressed up and looking amazing. Before your eyes shift to the other side and see Sam’s mom and sisters, all looking beautiful as always in their pastel coloured dresses.

Next your eyes find Peter, Tony and Pepper, sitting near the front. You’d met Pepper about a year ago when you’d gone to a family dinner with Steve, she was lovely and you were so happy to learn Tony had met a nice woman finally, one you hoped would stay around for a while. As you both had hit it off instantly and you could totally see her making an awesome sister in law one day.

And next to them are Steve’s parents, Howard and Maria, both looking so effortlessly content and happy in this moment. Like they both had known this day would come, and the cheeky wink Maria gives you solidifies that thought.

Then lastly you look to the other side, seeing Winnie, James Jr, Maria Hill, your Aunt Carol and your cousin Lashana all sitting together. Winnie and your aunt were already bawling their eyes out and you hadn’t even reached Steve yet, that made you giggle quietly to yourself as your eyes finally flicked back up to Steve’s.

You both then hold the eye contact the rest of your way down the aisle, up until your dad passes you off to your future husband, sharing a few whispered words that you can’t quite make out, but you do see Steve nod his agreement to something before he focuses back on you to whisper, “come on, beautiful. I’ve been waiting 11 years to make you my wife. I can’t wait any longer.”

You giggle softly at this corny cheeseball you were about to marry, then let him lead you up the steps, knowing instantly that this is exactly where you’re meant to be. And Steve is exactly who you’re meant to be with.

If only you’d known sooner, but, then again, you know now, and that’s really all that matters. You got here eventually, and honestly, you wouldn’t have changed a thing. You believe everything happens for a reason, everything plays out a certain way to force you to grow, learn and appreciate everything you have. If things all came easily, they wouldn’t mean as much in the end.

You glance at your soon-to-be husband and smile, receiving a smile in return, then you both focus on the minister. Knowing that this is the final part before you both can call yourselves married. And you both couldn’t wait any longer for that. Or the beautiful, crazy, corny life that would follow this moment—The life where your best friend is by your side every step of the way, except now you’d call him your husband.

‘Your husband.’ God, you really love the way that sounds.

The End.

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

@hopefulmoonobject @caps-lockdown @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak @rockyroadthepastryarchy @lovvliies @cuffski @icesoccerer @alwaysright4 @lilsthethrills @imdiegohargreeves @zombiepotterfour @mu-mu-rs @ledandan1244 @straightforwardly @badassbeckettswan @denzmallows @xremember-me-notx @gwynethjodie @lollipopdomination @capstopavenger @jemimah-b99 @rcvenqers @justkending @marvel13princess @alagalaska @silent-loucidity @sabertooth-potato @pies-wands-and-more

[darkpoisonouslove]

“Show the World (Inside of You)”

Summary: Griffin never wanted to be a model but in the name of her dreams she's willing to deal not only with fashion but also with the person who understands it. However, Valtor also seems to understand her, as impossible as that seemed at first, and she has to ask herself if he's still simply the designer of her nightmare or he could help her create the fairytale she'd always dreamed of for herself. Contains mildly nsfw elements.

This was not supposed to happen, then it was supposed to be short, and then I just gave up on confining it in any way since the idea ran away from me and I decided to catch up with it and run with it instead of trying to stop it. I really loved it so I had to write it all out. I hope you'll like it too. :)

She never wanted this.

She never tried to starve herself so that she could be thin enough to be a model. She simply forgot to eat most of the time driven by her passion to explore that rarely let her sit still and always had her mind occupied with a question getting the answer to which would prove to be a challenge. She was running on excitement which was why that job was proving to be a bitch.

She never tried to grow her hair long to impress anyone. She just loved the feel of the purple tresses between her fingers and how her hair looked in the voluptuous braid her mother would arrange it in, especially when she’d add flowers from their own garden to adorn it. The tons of hair products they kept dumping on her before every fashion show left her itching to scrub her scalp off long before the show was over and spending hours in the shower after she was finally done, relief only flooding once every last touch of cosmetics had flown down the drain.

She never tried to make her posture elegant or graceful or demanding respect. She only refused to bend before the obstacles in her way and held her head high every time something tried to pull her off the path she’d chosen for herself. But no one decided her fate for her so she only had herself to blame for her current situation. Herself and her passion for the night sky. And Faragonda. Definitely Faragonda.

Her friend had convinced her of the impossible by making her agree to work as a model but she was only doing it for her dreams. She had the qualities to make it in the fashion world and also had the intelligence to see that if she went through that hell, she could get enough funds to conduct her own independent research in the field of astronomy. And she had a friend who had the connections to get her an interview for a position that would pay enough to make it worth all that she had to go through. Namely, her new boss.

“How about dinner? Tonight?” Valtor's smugness stuck to her like his dress on her figure after he’d interrogated her thoroughly about her reasons to work for him as a model and she’d told him the truth. She didn’t want him thinking she enjoyed being there or had any interest into doing anything other than the basics her job required of her. He held her and her dreams in the palm of his hand and he fed off the certainty she’d have no choice but to accept. He hadn’t had the chance to learn the most basic thing about her yet even if it had been a few months since the job interview. But she’d teach him the hard way if he was so adamant to get burned.

“No,” Griffin caught his eyes in the mirror to send him to hell. She wouldn’t debase herself and sleep with him just because she needed the money. She had a dream, yes, but she also had self-respect she wouldn’t trade that just to keep a job she hadn’t even wanted in the first place.

Valtor laughed, making her turn to him to have a better angle for her glare. “To celebrate the success of the fashion show, Griffin,” he softly answered the accusation she’d thrown his way. Yet, the fact that he didn’t seem offended was a clear sign that his intentions hadn’t been quite as innocent as he was trying to make them out to be. “Some of the other girls are coming,” he only pulled a scoff from her with his inability to keep up if he thought that would compel her to go. “I always treat my models to a dinner after a job well done. Those that want to come, of course,” he explained, still not affected by her skepticism or her judgment and the gesture did sound genuine, and her arms were dropping at her sides now that she didn’t need the barrier between them.

“The critiques still haven’t come in,” Griffin teased.

It was the truth. The models hadn’t even gone out on the catwalk yet and she could still see the smirk taking over his lips when she hadn’t been blinded by a flashlight sealing her frame in a photograph to have it all over the media. It made her grateful she was all wrapped in his creations as they were the reason why people would look at her in the first place and mostly kept the focus off of her face.

“I don’t need people to announce my worth at me,” Valtor locked eyes with her for her to see the mirror was not the only thing in the room that she could see herself in. “You look beautiful and no one can deny that, Griffin,” the heat of his words was inside her, spreading towards her treacherous skin that was too white and would immediately give her away if she wasn’t covered in more makeup than she’d worn during the entirety of her life outside of work. And for once having her face painted like a canvas was an advantage that hid what lay underneath. She didn’t need him getting the wrong idea.

“Are you complimenting yourself or trying to get me into bed?” was what made its way through her blood red lips instead of the confession that he made the knot in her stomach loosen and the memories of getting bullied in school for how tall she was retreat far beneath the podium she strutted on with the heels he’d selected for her as if to help her up to his mindset of celebrating her height. She didn’t need to tell him because he knew. His eyes could be a mirror but hers were a window, letting all the light from inside spill out if you knew how to make them open up, and he'd found all her secret buttons even though she’d never told him. So perhaps he saw himself in her, too, in some way. “I still can’t make it to dinner,” she said before he’d had the chance to break through the glass and set off the alarm in her heart. She wasn’t sure she’d have anything to put out the fire with. “I have plans with a friend.” Yes, plans. She needed a plan for how to get away with killing Faragonda for getting the idea of working as a model into her head.

This wasn’t the place for her. It was too real and too fake at the same time and the confusion it wrapped her into managed to make her doubt her how well her brain was working and that she definitely didn’t appreciate. She didn’t know what to do, and she already had enough of being pulled on strings as they spun her around as they pleased while preparing her for yet another fashion show.

“Maybe some other time then,” Valtor let her free and she could thank him, but she couldn’t admit there was a problem. “It’s show time,” he slipped back on the mask she hated to help her relax with how easily the feeling came. She wasn’t getting dragged into something she couldn’t handle. She was getting dragged into something she hated but she’d come out of it with all of her strength at her disposal.

It was the thought that carrier her out onto the podium and it was the same thought that saw her walking into Valtor’s office some weeks later, all calm when he’d asked to talk to her.

She was more than ready for a fight if that was what he wanted. She wasn’t going to apologize for the scandal she’d made. They had no right to stalk her with cameras when she wasn’t at work and she’d let everyone who hadn’t gotten the memo know they’d have to respect her personal space.

“I need your opinion, Griffin,” Valtor only glanced at her, taking just enough time to acknowledge her before his focus returned on the sheet in front of him. The calm of his tone left her all puzzled amidst her expectation of a storm. It did leave one in her head and she had to hate him just for that.

“This isn’t about the paparazzi problem?” the corners of her mouth dropped after the question made it out as if to join her plummeting expectations that had been let down. She couldn’t understand the game he was playing. It had to be a game. He had to have an ulterior motive not to be angry at her after the stain on his company’s image she’d left. She doubted even the dog paintings on all the walls that he’d made himself as he’d told her were enough to calm him when he was raging no matter how much he claimed to love the animals. She’d seen him angry one time when he’d destroyed a person on the phone. She’d been sure there’d been just a heap of ash left on the other end of the line. There had to be something else behind his good will.

“Is there a problem there?” Valtor looked at her, still so relaxed that he had to be mocking her. “You had an opinion and you voiced it. You were rather polite about it, too, considering the situation.” He smiled at her, and everything was upside down. The floor was probably no longer under her feet but she didn’t dare look. She could fall. And he could catch her. She couldn’t be just another poor soul caught in his net. Not that she’d meant to have any knowledge on him as an individual but it was hard to miss his personal life when it was practically everywhere. It was beyond her how people didn’t tire of it, especially considering how wild it seemed. And it was beyond her how he didn’t tire of the constant invasion of his privacy.

“You’re not angry?” she probed carefully when she knew better than that. He could still bite her head off no matter how cautious she was. But she had to make things right, had to bring the ground back under her and not in the place of the sky. It would get in the way of her plans to observe it in the night. “About the damage to your company?” she clarified after the expectant look he gave her as if he didn't know damn well what she meant, as if he hadn't read it like the silence between them was a private language. He was just playing her to hear her admit her own guilt.

“Griffin, you clearly don’t read tabloids.” He had her there, just like she’d known he would. He was dangerous. “My company doesn’t get off the front pages. Saves a lot of money from advertising,” he joked before flashing her that pearly smile, the one that was like poison and had her heart beating frantically to get it out of her system but, instead, it only spread further in her veins. “I do love a woman with opinions,” he said as he got up from his chair, a predator ready to pounce. “It’s a thing that inspires and something I pick my models for.”

That she wouldn’t know. She hadn’t bothered to spend time with them, though maybe she should. If she could take his word for it and, despite how much she hated to admit it, so far he hadn’t given her a reason not to.

“Men usually only like their women strong-willed when they agree with them,” Griffin tilted her head, the interest in his reply not at all faked as he kept surprising her every time he opened his mouth in private. It was the pretense that fell over him like a cage for his free spirit that pushed her away but what did she know about the fight he had to lead? Perhaps it wasn’t a cage but a shield. A shield he laid down when she was around.

“I’m not like other men,” Valtor's gaze bore into hers for a moment as if that was enough to lay his touch on her inside. “I called you to have you look at this,” he picked up a sketch from his desk and strode over to her, his steps confident to match the belief she hadn't withheld from him.

“That’s to be determined,” Griffin muttered to tame his smugness to a bearable level as she took the sketch from him, her breath stopping as her eyes landed on it.

The dress looked stunning, the light blue–the shade of his eyes–starting at the hem slowly turning orange–golden–before it went into gentle pink, red, purple and finally black. All the colors of the sky before, during and after a sunset gathered in the skirt that was separated from the bodice with a purple ribbon in a very familiar shade. Right above started little gemstones arranged to make constellations. She could clearly spot Leo and Virgo since he’d taken the time to detail them precisely. And the sleeves were black veils, held to the wrists by two bangle bracelets – silver and gold. He’d captured the sky through himself and her and it looked... perfect.

“Do you like it?” Valtor had her head snapping up–and perhaps there was a protest stinging her heart that he’d made her tear her eyes off that masterpiece–her mouth already opening to let a sharp agreement come out in retribution for even wasting her energy on voicing something so obvious in her body language–her entire being had succumbed to the awe the sketch had gripped her with as she held it with almost trembling hands–but the look in his blue eyes suspended her in their ice, in its soft plea not to break it and his heart.

She closed her mouth, her lips pressing together as firmly as possible not to let out a sound the wave of which would shatter him but also subtly enough to conceal her battling the impulse to mock his request for her validation. Even if she’d acted without thinking. He’d asked for her opinion, had put himself on display in front of her like she was doing in front of the world to show off his models. He'd touched the stiffness clinging to her at those moments and he’d trusted her not to affect him with it now. She couldn’t tear that apart no matter the effort it would cost her.

“The tenth anniversary from the foundation of my company is coming up,” Valtor spoke again in her lack of reaction, his eyes going over the sketch as if to look it over one more time while she was stuck on the words coming out of his mouth.

She hadn’t known how old his fashion house was. She never would have assumed... even when she’d been convinced he was a professional. Somehow fashion wasn’t something lasting in her mind, wasn’t something important. Until she’d seen the trepidation he’d waited for her approval with. It seemed important now. It seemed like the most important thing to encourage him when she saw her reflection in his eyes once more, waiting for praise and support for her work that she’d never gotten. But she could at least give it to him.

“I’d like you to wear that dress at the celebratory fashion show I’m planning,” Valtor looked back at her and now it was hope that was in his eyes and they were the windows this time as he was letting her peek right into his soul.

Her mouth was falling open so she took the opportunity to force out the words to keep them both from exploding. “I will,” she was quick to reach and catch Valtor’s hand and the heat of his skin spread through every part of her being melting every last lump of ice people’s dismissal or animosity had hardened into on her muscles and nerves.

“Thank you,” Valtor squeezed her hand and she returned the gesture, completely consciously to give her understanding she didn't want to voice to hear it echo in the comfortably quiet room. “This is a very important occasion for me and so is the model,” he looked back to the sketch and compelled her to do the same and revel in the beauty he’d created again. “I’ve forgotten what it feels like...” he trailed off and Griffin let him find his words on his own, keeping still and doing her best to remain present and not get carried away in the depths of the dress he’d bring to life for her to wear, “to draw with passion, pure and unadulterated,” the words were quiet as if he didn’t want to boast with them and mess up the genuineness they were made of.

“What inspired you?” Griffin asked even though she knew the answer, even though she could throw a playful question about the new muse he’d found that he would normally leap at. But there was nothing normal in him at the moment, or at least it wasn’t the normal she was used to, though she’d love to change that.

“Looking at the world,” Valtor said and she could feel his gaze on her tugging at her heartstrings just like the smile was pulling at her lips and she wasn’t quick to pull her hand out of his.

Which was not to say that she was all that comfortable with his hands all over her a few weeks from then as he was fixing a dress that had never been meant for her to fit like it’d been tailored to her body. He’d kept running things by her, asking for her approval on fabrics and shades, and gems, and everything else – things she couldn’t even help him with since they were far from her area of expertise. And she did her best to fuel his enthusiasm instead of extinguish it with her lack of interest in his profession. She even found herself fascinated by some new things she learned now that she was at least intrigued by his work. But that urgent call for her to come to work had been a bit of a deal-breaker when she knew he knew she needed time to prepare herself mentally before she could go out there and pose like the flashlights and prying eyes didn't leave her fearing every next step amidst the earthquake shaking her inner world.

He’d attempted an apology but it hadn’t worked when it had been more of an explanation and he’d snapped at her to stay still while he was trying to make her presentable and wasn’t paying much attention to her emotional state that could have been better if he’d actually taken the time to do more than just throw the words in her face. But of course the fact that they stuck to her spine and kept her from moving was working in his favor so he had no reason to complain.

She’d been the one with the most similar body type to the model that had called in sick in the last possible moment–perhaps even later than that if Valtor’s hastiness both when he’d called her to demand her presence and as he was getting her prepared was reaching unprecedented levels–and just the thought they’d looked at her body’s proportions in detail made bile burn her throat like she'd swallowed a volcano waiting to errupt. Valtor’s hands running up and down her frame definitely weren’t helping. Especially with his agitation rubbing off on her instead of his usual understanding towards his employees.

“Are you done groping every part of me?” Griffin huffed once his hands left her only to be back in a few seconds like had a dozen times before leave him no closer to satisfaction with the result. She would've thought by now he’d have had his ploy fulfilled as he’d touched every part of her, pulling and tugging at the dress to smooth out creases she couldn’t see.

“You think I’m having fun with this, Griffin?” he asked, more offended than she'd ever heard him to sent her heart tearing itself in halves over jumping and sinking in her chest. “That I’m doing this because I want to?” he moved in front of her and the storm in his eyes made her bite her tongue to sever the scathing remark she had coming up right then and there. “I would’ve much preferred it if you weren’t here,” his words prickled all over her skin like sewing pins he'd forgotten in the dress, “that the dress was on the woman who was supposed to wear it and that this fashion show would go well,” he huffed, the exhaustion in the sound hitting her like a train off the rails when she could do nothing to help. The world he lived in was a mystery she couldn't solve but the fear that had taken over him was cutting her open along with her own to spill her blood over the fabric and ruin it for good.

“It will be fine,” Griffin threw her energy into the words instead of the hug she itched to give herself to protect herself from the negativity he was radiating. It would throw him into a nervous fit if she moved the dress even a hair outside of how he’d arranged it on her body to leave her more paralyzed than ever before. She'd had to perform magic to walk out of the dressing room. She couldn’t go out there thinking it would all fail. She hated it all when it was a success and finding out how much worse a failure would kick her in the ribs and push out all of her air was on her list of things to avoid at all costs.

“No, Griffin, it won’t be,” Valtor pronounced the words slowly as if that was the only way for her to understand them. But even that didn’t help when she couldn’t fathom what she was seeing. He wasn’t the man she knew with his fear of judgment. “The moment you go out there will be a disaster.” And that one was just painful. It gripped her throat to suffocate all cries without distinguishing whether they were for her or for him. It hurt to see him as this ball of nerves instead of the collected and arrogant fashion designer she knew. Especially when she was about to put herself out there and get judged along with his work. She needed his confidence but it was nowhere to be found to leave her muscles fighting the crippling terror in her instinct to run out of there with the dress and never return. His unwavering faith in the companionship of his talent and her determined pursuit of her dream was the only constant besides the nausea filling her stomach with heavy lead like it was a gun ready for firing before a show and she couldn’t lose that. She couldn’t lose his reassurance that she looked like a goddess as she wore his work because it was the only thing helping her face her personal nightmare that lay out there.

“Valtor...” She didn’t know what to say, how to ask him for... for whatever it was she couldn’t find in herself but had to. She couldn’t take from him when he had nothing to give but exasperation and doubts. And he was giving her plenty of that even if she didn’t want it. She could feel the insecurities in her mind gathering behind her eyes and pushing to break them apart and spill to the world all of her secrets, all of her ugliness and the parts that had to stay buried but wouldn’t when Valtor had just buried his confidence in both of them and she had trouble facing him, not to mention the world. She couldn’t go out like that. She’d break down.

“No, Griffin, you don’t get to cry,” Valtor's words weren’t harsh only to slap her that much harder. He wasn’t trying to be cruel to her, just to prepare her for what was to come. “You can never cry in this world,” he whispered as he cupped her cheek and she had to do her damnedest not to lean into the touch because it would be impossible to pull herself out of the warmth of it but she still had to go out on the catwalk without him to keep her heart at ease with the beauty his eyes reflected back at her. “Tears are never fashionable and they don’t go with makeup,” his thumb pressed into her cheek to remind her muscles smiles were a real thing that was expected of her before he let go, her skin so cold without his hand on it to protect her from the ice of the world. “Show time,” Valtor said and she nodded.

She pulled away from him and reached deep inside her to pull out her pride to wear along with his creation as she strengthened her back and squared her shoulders. She never bowed before a challenge and she wouldn’t start now that he’d spent so much time arranging the dress to fit just so to her frame that any movement that wasn’t accounted for would send it all to hell. And she held her head high even as the sound of her heels penetrated into her brain like the ticking of a countdown to an explosion.

There was one, flashes blinding her and fashion magazines and blogs filling with shots of every place where the dress didn’t sit right on her, critique snowing them under for the smallest of issues and not the overall composition. The other models that had all been successful were overshadowed by the failure of that one dress and her face was insignificant in the picture but she couldn’t help but feel like she’d played a part in that disaster with how stiff and rigid her posture had been as everything inside her had protested. She couldn’t hope that all of that had stayed unnoticed when every other part of him and her that had been put on display had been dissected closely. The devil did seem to be in the details.

That was where he’d buried himself ever since then, working without taking a break and for the first time it dawned on her that fashion and science weren’t that different as endless hours went into both of them, the people interested in them perfecting every aspect of their project until they were sick with exhaustion. He deserved to an award simply for making her find the similarity as it wasn’t easy to spot. At least it hadn’t been for her but now that she’d seen it, she couldn’t look past it.

She found him in his office as expected, hunched over one of the models for the anniversary show. At least no interest in that had been lost after the media-created fiasco from the last fashion show. Or at least so she’d been assured by the other girls who all turned out to be very friendly once she'd decided to come out of her intimidating bubble and join the conversation. She’d even found herself staying after she was done with work to interact with them and it had been a most pleasant surprise. The last thing she’d expected to find in the other models had been friendship but now that she'd looked closer, they did seem like a big family with the tips they gave each other and the small gestures of support she hadn’t noticed with her nose buried in her self-imposed superiority. Details indeed.

“Need some coffee?” Griffin asked to announce her presence he hadn't noticed even with her heels clicking through his office to take her to his desk. He’d really plunged himself into his work and she wouldn’t mind if she didn’t worry that he wasn’t doing it for himself, that he was trying to cater to those who’d been quick to shame him instantly, forgetting his accomplishments – and she had to wonder if perhaps that didn’t include his parents, too, who, after some digging, she’d learned had been less than supportive about his business and were still hoping he’d go back to the family company that was far more practical. In which case she’d have to remind him of all the success he’d had. With her at least. She was there for him as a friend when she’d been unable to stand him in the beginning. And she wasn’t easily swayed as he’d learned, too.

Valtor only glanced at her for a moment but it gave her enough time to see the gratitude in his eyes. “You’re saving my life,” he said once they were back on his work but there was no doubt hanging around her neck like a noose that the words were genuine. Which was what had her rage boiling over and spilling out of her heart where it had been simmering ever since that night he’d failed to comfort her when he’d had no comfort himself.

“What, no secretary?” Griffin raised a brow at him even though he wasn’t looking. He would be in a moment, once her words reached through to him. She wasn’t being fair to him and she knew it. Just because he was overworking himself didn’t mean he’d force his employees to do the same. He respected them for some inexplicable reason considering how big of an asshole he could be and she respected him for that. Which was why it was so frustrating to see him crouching over his desk and going over things that were perfect again and again to the only possible outcome of destroying them. All because everyone refused to show him mercy, including his own parents.

“You seem willing enough to fill her role,” Valtor quipped right back at her before freezing for a moment. His eyes left the paper in front of him to find her and that in itself was enough to touch her as he’d finally broken out of his mind prison. “I”m sorry,” Valtor said as he held her gaze this time. And it seemed to be important to him that she believed him.

She did. She’d seen enough of him now not to need convincing. “I’m sorry, too,” she said, using the opportunity that he was still looking at her to tell him what she wouldn’t. She couldn’t make herself put in words the dread that had filled her while everyone had picked at the dress that she’d worn instead of at her. The world had always been against her and for once it had turned in the other direction and it had been in order to hurt him when the dress simply hadn’t been meant for her body. And that wasn’t her fault; it was the industry that was flawed but... she didn’t have the same passion for his work that he did and it made her feel unworthy of wearing it. It made her feel like she’d let him down when she’d been looking for a way to escape while he’d been looking for a way to keep himself whole after the blow not only on his ego, but on his heart, too. He wouldn’t be hurting himself now with unhealthy amounts of work if he weren’t trying to avoid something worse.

“Don’t cross me out just yet, Griffin.” There was a bit of a rumble in his voice to let through the anger but behind that there was more. It sounded like a plea, like a sky that wanted worship even if all it could give was lightning and thunder, and not a drop of rain to keep the ground wet and fertile. It sounded like he was giving up on himself and he needed her to lift his spirits. But she’d never known how to do that. For anyone. The only one who’d stayed with her was Faragonda who managed to pick herself up even without her help and she couldn’t tell why she was still there with her when she knew how useless of a friend she was.

“I won’t if you promise not to drown your self-pity in coffee,” she went for a bargain. It was harsh of her but it was honest and that was all she could offer. She wasn’t good at comfort with her hands always so cold she couldn't stand to touch even herself but she sure as hell knew how to be blunt and Valtor had appreciated that in previous interactions to allowed their relationship to develop past disdain.

He chuckled, the sound running through her like a vibration she wasn’t afraid would shatter her as it was real and full of mirth that hadn’t been there before. “You think I can lose it even more if I go overboard with the coffee?” he reached to take the cup staring at it as if it was a secret serum to unlocking magical powers.

“I’m pretty convinced that’s not possible but let’s not find out,” Griffin crossed her arms but still gave an amused smile when he looked at her like he was considering his options. It made her roll her eyes but it was still good to see him get out of his head for a bit. And it was even better when she knew she was the reason why he’d managed. Maybe she wasn’t that bad at comforting him and that information was oddly warming, especially in contrast with the chill that still ran through her every time the last fashion show flashed in her mind but for the first time it didn’t show up. So maybe he wasn’t that bad at comforting her either when he wasn’t troubled by what the outside world would think about his inner experiences that he was so brave to put out there on display in his work.

“Fair enough,” Valtor shrugged, unbothered by her words that he correctly read as part of their game, the thought sending all her cogs to a screeching halt. Since when did she allow herself to play in it? “I have something else to keep me going now,” he said, his eyes on her again like he could see into her soul.

“What might that be?” Griffin held his gaze without anything to send her heart pounding in her ears even if that was true. He wasn’t there to attack her. If anything, he needed support now, not another battle after the hell he’d been through and the torture he forced on himself. Though, to be fair, the impulse to blame yourself when you seemed to be the odd one out was understandable if not even familiar. But he wasn’t alone now. They were together in that. He’d asked her to wear the dress and she would do it even if her mind was leaning towards flight as the blue of his eyes was filling her lungs. He’d seen something in her that had made him trust her with presenting his work to the world and she wanted to know what that was. She wanted to find the same magic in herself that he’d seen.

Valtor didn’t answer but turned around instead, knowing that she’d follow his lead now that she trusted him and would see what he was pointing her to.

Behind him–or rather in front of now–the city was alive with lights that shined in the darkness like the stars adorning the night sky. And it was even closer. It looked like something you could touch and could easily hold into your heart. It did look like something that could inspire you and keep you not only awake, but also alive. It certainly seemed magical to know there were so many other people out there, living like you were, with their problems and their drama, and their perseverance. Because the lights kept coming to life every night when dark threatened to put a stop to all of that. And they seemed to band together to disperse the darkness of the night and not to add more of it. It was a breathtaking sight.

As was the dress that was much more captivating in reality than it was on a sheet of paper. It was so soft to the touch even if the diamonds on the bodice threatened to cut you with the sharp light they were reflecting and it hugged her curves perfectly. It made her never want to take it off, feeling like an outfit she could live in. It wasn’t suffocating or annoying in any way and it was showing off the most beautiful colors right there on her frame. She felt like a painting – vibrant with energy and untouchable with its value, the only thing you could do with it was admire it. Admire her. In the dress he’d made specifically to celebrate his career in fashion and also unknowingly–though, his gaze on her made her doubt there was a thought in her mind right now that he hadn’t heard–to allow her to model without the dread in the pit of her stomach. She was ready to face the world wrapped in his work.

“Well?” she asked to see if he was ready for the same. “Anything off that needs fixing?” Her heart protested against the question and she could agree with that. She didn’t want to jump out of her skin at the thought of everyone looking at her in that dress and everything was right. To her at least.

“We need to figure out your hair,” Valtor looked her over, sending the first pang of nervousness shooting through her like a charge of electricity that could fray the delicate beauty of the fabric or her mental state.

“Braid? Please?” Griffin hated how small her voice sounded but it was exactly why she couldn’t have her anxiousness spilling out of her and over the dress. She’d done that to all of his other models that she’d worn but this one was special with how it made her feel and she wanted to keep it that way. She wanted to hold on to that feeling of boldness and the desire to walk out in front of all the people that would be there to judge them and show the the beauty he’d made. He’d trusted her with that and she didn’t want to let him down. And she didn’t want to let herself down either. It was the first time she a spark of enthusiasm about her job lit up inside her and she didn’t want to let that go, smothered by the lack of air in her lungs.

Valtor considered it for a moment before an idea visibly struck as he filled with energy that had her more curious rather than needing to hold on to something. Even when he made his way behind her and reached for her.

“May I?” Valtor asked, his hands only burying in her hair when she gave her agreement and she was burning to thank him profoundly but she had to stay focused on keeping her mouth shut while his fingers ran through her hair tugging on her vocal cords every time he tugged on the purple strands on accident.

It was why she hated having her hair done. There was so much tugging and pulling on it and it made it hard to contain her sensitivity to that kind of touch but she had to. She would be mortified if anything slipped past her lips and gave them a glimpse of what was going on inside her. But that didn’t hold true with Valtor as he worked, weaving her hair in a braid without weaving any panic inside her. Only gratitude, instead, for the gentleness of his hands and of his gaze as he was looking at her very closely and he still found her perfect. Even after working with her and seeing her bitterness at the world. Or maybe because of that.

A gasp fell from her lips at the realization prickling her.

“Did I hurt you?” Valtor asked, unsurprisingly having paid attention to that. His hand was on her shoulder as if to steady her and make sure she was ready for him to continue before he did so.

“No, I’m fine,” Griffin had to remind herself that she couldn’t shake her head right now no matter how much she wanted to support her words with body language, too, to convince him it was the truth. “It’s just... I have a sensitive scalp,” she said because that was true, too, even if it wasn’t what had caused her reaction this time. Not directly at least. But she couldn’t let him know that. Though, maybe it was the knowledge that she could that had her heart leaping in her throat to barricade the words inside.

Valtor hummed and she could feel his mind spiraling down to the gutter but hers followed suit and she had to pull herself out before she could fall in too deep. “I will be careful not to hurt you then,” he said, sincere to the point of inconvenience at the present moment. And his hand returning back into her hair tugged out the relief every part of her was soaking in to the point where she was drowning in it and wouldn’t even regret a last breath sucked in through the waves. It was the safest she’d felt in the hands of someone who wasn’t family.

He was soon done, his fingers holding the end of her braid to keep it from unraveling and she could feel him looking at it, the cogs in his head turning so loudly that she couldn’t hear any insecurities that came crashing down inside her mind while she waited for his assessment.

“Do you know where the braid ends?” Valtor startled her for a moment before she was prompted to join him in thought.

“Let me guess,” Griffin's lips got pulled into a smile, “where the purple starts turning into black.” It wasn’t even a question. She was aware of how long her hair was when braided and she’d memorized how the dress looked on her. It was a sight that she wished to keep in her mind until the end of time to remind her that she herself was breathtaking as became evident in the dress, in the way the colors overflowed into each other the way only nature could make them, existing together in a perfect harmony when it seemed illogical, even impossible.

“Precisely,” Valtor confirmed, slightly amused by it. Whether because he was taking it for a coincidence or because–like her–he was aware it wasn’t, she wasn’t really sure, but she was willing to bet on the latter. He was more in tune with his soul than she’d initially given him credit for so he probably recognized his own subconscious work now that he had it laid out in front of him. And she wasn't fidgeting with the thought that he’d noticed just how long her hair was and his mind had done the rest of the math threading itself between her fingers to accessorize the dress. “It just needs one last detail,” the smugness in Valtor's voice had her intrigued this time with his pride most certainly not being misplaced.

“And what is that?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t decide to be dramatic right now and keep her in suspense.

Her impatience seemed to come through despite her stillness–or perhaps because of it now that they could be real with each other and they allowed it, leaving no place for fakeness–or he was simply excited himself to share–either of which sounded good to her–since he was quick to respond. “Sparks.”

“Sparks?” Griffin echoed, though, if she was being perfectly honest, she allowed herself to taste the word and savor it even if she wasn’t quite certain what he meant with it. It certainly sounded enchanting.

“We have sun and moon, and stars,” Valtor said, making the pieces click to leave her with an alluring image of his genius, “so we only need sparks.”

“That would be beautiful,” Griffin admitted as she gave her all to control her breathlessness just as she was doing with her hands that were itching run over the gems on the bodice to get a feel of the idea of more gems tangled in her hair. She could see it in her mind's eye but she had trouble grounding the image in reality when it looked like it had come out of a fairytale. And she really needed it to come true to finally have something truly magical in her life.

“You will be beautiful, Griffin,” Valtor let go of her hair to look her in the eyes as he offered the compliment and she unraveled like her braid did when he wasn’t holding it together under his insistent gaze as he was trying to put the words in her heart and she’d let him if she could just find the certainty they would be safe there. “You always are,” he said and she found herself smiling at him when he helped her find what she’d been looking for. She didn’t even need him to touch her to believe it, the admiration in his eyes so tangible, enclosed in their ice as if to be preserved there for the ages.

And she was smiling again when she heard his voice calling for her, her fingers pressing the hold button for the elevator of their own accord before he’d even asked her to wait for him.

“Will you have dinner with me now? I need a plus one.” The answer to that proved harder to find. Especially since he kept adding strings to it and making it a net she didn’t want to die in. “It’s for a business meeting in the guise of a party,” Valtor added as if that could patch up the holes his words had left in her for the ease to seep out and make space for her unwillingness. But that didn’t help either when he was asking her to be a decoration to the mask she still hated even if it was what helped him survive in the dangerous waters he swam in.

“Why don’t you ask one of the other girls?” She didn’t want to tell him all of that. She didn’t want to tell him that there was a part of him she still found distasteful after he’d opened up to her and let her see into his soul. “I’m sure Ediltrude would love to come with you,” she did her best not to push one of her newly found friends into something she’d hate just to save herself. She knew Zarathustra wouldn’t be a fan of the idea either but she was certain her sister would love it. Seemed just like her type of event.

“Will you ever go to dinner with me?” Valtor shuffled her mind like a puzzle she'd have to put back together to tell what had necessitated that question when they’d already established an answer before she remembered it'd been Valtor who’d given her a rein check but she’d never taken it. It made the words sound different to her now, made her notice the risk he was taking by asking again and making it more personal than it had been last time. Like he wanted the answer more than he feared it, like he wanted more, more time with her. And somehow that didn’t sound selfish to her now. Maybe because she wanted that too.

“Have you considered that it’s not you that’s the problem with those offers?” she put herself out there, too, because it was just the two of them in the closed space of the elevator and her soul had nowhere to escape if she let it out, except maybe in his eyes as she looked at him to find them full of disbelief that made her want to give it to him. But to him only. She couldn’t let him pull it out in the world too.

Valtor’s smile was so small with all the sadness pushing it down in an attempt to turn it into a frown. “Sounds like wishful thinking,” he raised his hand as if trying to scare her away by letting the meaning of his words hit her. And his eyes widened ever so slightly in wonder at the sight of her stillness that allowed him to cup her cheek. And it made no sense because he’d done it before but she knew he hadn’t. Not like that. They’d been distressed back then. And they hadn’t known just what that between them could turn out to be. Or at least she hadn’t.

“Why do you want me at that event when you know how I feel about publicity?” she asked, her question not an accusation in her mind but the exact opposite. He saw her and understood her and she could find it in herself to trust that. But it left her unable to comprehend why he would ask something like that of her when he’d always read the tension in her at the moments she had to put herself out there, had even helped her with it on numerous occasions.

“Because I’m selfish,” Valtor pulled his hand away before she could catch it and proved that it wasn’t true as he refused the reassurance despite knowing she’d give it instead of grasping at it. “I want the strength you give me,” he said, awakening an impulse in her to pull away to process the words that she forced herself to suppress. “It makes it that much easier for me to put on a collected facade.” The words forced her jaw to drop as if to accommodate them as they made their way inside her and she’d need the space now even if she didn’t want it. “I know it’s a lot to ask and I understand why you refuse to do it. I appreciate you being honest with me about it,” Valtor paused for a moment as if wondering if he should say something else.

She even heard him call her name but the ring of the elevator interfered with the sound letting the outside world in when the doors opened and Valtor hopped out without even saying a goodbye before she could do anything. Not that she would have accepted it anyway as the topic still stood open in front of them and maybe it was best that way. She needed time to put her thoughts in order despite the pull on her muscles to run after him. She couldn't catch up with him just yet, still stuck on his words.

She was torn between berating herself for not noticing sooner how much her support meant to him–or rather not connecting the dots when it came to the pretense he was putting up that reminded so much of her own and she should have known–and letting her heart race with joy over what he’d confessed. She couldn’t have imagined that he needed her to keep up the facade she hated so much and she couldn’t make herself help him with that no matter how much she wanted to, especially when it meant she’d have to put on her own mask, but it still brought them closer and let her underneath even though he couldn’t let it crumble. He trusted her to let her behind his last line of defense and it was enough to stop her breath.

As was the necklace Valtor was putting on her for a photo shoot that had been arranged in the last possible moment but for entirely different reasons. At least this time the dress had been informed that it was to fit her body so that was under control. Valtor was just making sure of that and adding the finishing touch. Or rather twelve of them, all twenty-four-carat and ready to be noticed and admired like she only was with him.

“Trying to lock me into place?” Griffin teased, wishing her hair wasn’t in an updo so that she could have somewhere to put her hands. She was getting antsy having to sit still. Or maybe it was because she’d have to pose for hours on end as a mannequin for the clothes that were more important than her. Somehow that had never worried her before but now it did. She didn’t know if she could be soulless enough and she had to do it for him. For his work. She’d done a lot of posing for her own but now that she understood just how much of himself he put in his designs she felt like she hadn’t done enough. She wanted to do more.

“Gotta make sure you won’t run away with my heart,” Valtor made hers leap inside her chest as if it had been jump-started to life after she’d died so many times putting herself out there on display in the name of her dream. “I put so much effort in this dress,” he said, instantly prompting her to turn her back on the mirror she was staring at and look at him instead. She knew what the dress looked like just like she could tell when his words were a lie.

“This dress isn’t your heart.” It was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t special. She’d peel it off after she was done with the photo shoot and she’d be glad to be rid of it and would never think about it again unless it was pushed into her face from a billboard or an internet page. Or perhaps one of those glossy magazines the other girls always had their noses buried into that had almost thrown her off about their intelligence and she’d only gotten past it thanks to the nudge from him. “The one you’re making for the anniversary celebration is,” she put her hand over his chest to feel how right she was as his heart beat in agreement.

“You know me so well?” Valtor asked but it wasn’t a mockery. It was more of disbelief, really, and she couldn’t have that. Not after how honest he’d been with her. Though, maybe that was the reason for his words now. He hadn’t avoided her per se after their talk in the elevator but he hadn’t sought her out either and it had really driven home how used she’d become to his attention. She’d found herself missing it on day one. And he must have missed it, too.

“I know you want to kiss me,” she moved closer, the deeper breath he took at that breezing over her neck his eyes darkened like she’d turned off the light to free them from the burden of being watched. “But you can’t because you’ll smudge my makeup and there’s not enough time to fix it,” she left her lips parted, running the risk of being the one to destroy her makeup if she allowed herself to lick them. It would certainly earn her his attention back if it wasn’t already on her. And it was.

He was just as lost in her train of thought as she was, the direction it was headed into clear but that wasn’t helpful when they had to find it in themselves to get off it before they’d reached their dream destination. “You’re wrong,” Valtor’s eyes captured hers despite how irresistible his lips proved to be as they were moving. “I can kiss you,” he said and her heart stopped in her chest so perhaps anticipation was the opposite of adrenaline. “And I will.” Valtor’s fingers closed around the hand on his chest and she couldn’t be mad at him for pulling it away from his heart when he let his lips caress it while his eyes remained locked with hers. “I’m not done,” he murmured against her skin before he let go of her hand and grasped at her shoulders turning her around again.

She saw him in the mirror as he leaned down, all of his focus on what he was about to do with her, and his lips tickled her skin around the fastener of the necklace at the nape of her neck with their gentleness and the knowledge she allowed it. It had a shiver running through her and she tried to soak up the warmth of his hands on her to get her through the shoot. It struck once again how similar they were as she needed his support just as badly as he needed hers.

“Now you’re locked into place,” Valtor whispered in her ear watching out for the hairdo as he did so but even that couldn’t mess up the sensuality of the moment.

She’d known he was an artist when it came to flirting, too, but this was something else, something different. It was a romance like she’d never had before and she could only hope she wasn’t mistaken because the fall would be brutal. It would rip out not just her wings but her soul, too, and she doubted even the stars would have the power to save her after she’d put all the light of her trust in him.

“Too bad I have to go out there,” Griffin drawled and the sound was more playful than regretful as this time it wasn’t the reluctance of showing herself to the cameras that had driven the words–though, that was a factor, too–but her willingness to stay with him behind the curtains. It was a good place to be. The best place. Especially with his hands on her frame still, sliding down her sides and to her waist as if to draw her attention to her curves and his appreciation for them. A dangerous move considering how tempted it left her to throw it all away and let him peel the dress off of her, free her from the duty of her job and her insecurities. She knew he could do that, could wrap her in a layer of his caresses that would keep her safe from the hell in her head. She just had to let him.

“The dress needs to be shown off,” Valtor made it a request like it had always been. From him to her to wear his dress and present his talent to the world. Only, she hadn’t appreciated the faith and trust he put into her until now, blinded by her own distaste for the whole ordeal to the point of never having asked herself why he’d let her have the job in the first place after she’d made it perfectly clear she wasn’t interested in fashion. But since then she’d seen his intuition at work and she could trust it, could draw the needed confidence from it. Because he’d chosen her to be the face of his work, of his soul.

“I’m on it,” she said and the smile he gifted her with through the mirror stayed in her eyes even as she made it out of his hold and had the cameras flashing in them like they were jealous of their golden shade. And they had to be. Because they’d never see him the way she did, would never get to know the real him with all of the beauty he had within. They’d only get to see what was spilling out because he was so full of it it overflowed. But he’d chosen to show her and for the first time she was glad to be there and proud to be in the spotlight with his art wrapped around her, his soul touching hers.

The feeling seemed to stay with her even after that as everything seemed new. She didn’t cringe when Ediltrude shoved the magazine with the photos in her hands and didn’t try to brush it off, her gaze sliding over the glossy pages to relive the moment once again and revel in the beautiful image she made for in his dress. She went to work with enthusiasm, especially when she could see the preparations for the anniversary celebration unfolding, and her heart almost exploded from excitement when Valtor told her her sparks had arrived, doing his best to resist her persuasion to spoil the surprise but he finally relented and showed them to her smiling at her joy in a way that had made her want to kiss it off his mouth and swallow it to keep it inside her forever for the it was that precious. She even let Zarathustra drag her on a shopping spree since her personal wardrobe could use something new as well.

Walking through the underground garage was also new as she’d never left the building from there but she’d felt an impulse after they were done with the last preparations for the jubilee. Tomorrow was the big day and she’d wanted to see every part of the building, get to know her work place like she’d allowed herself to get to know her colleagues. Or at least that was how she’d tried to rationalize the inexplicable need to go a route she’d never used before since the main entrance provided the shortest way to her bus stop–Valtor had offered her a firm car and a chauffeur but she’d scoffed at the idea of being treated like she was special just because of the job she couldn’t stand–but it became clear what had actually drawn her there once she saw him.

His car was one of the few left–and some of them rarely left the garage anyway so there was a good chance they were the last people in the building save for security as all of the other girls had left and the rest of the staff, too–and he seemed to abandon the thought of leaving when he saw her as he opened his door and got out of it again.

“Need a ride?” his voice echoed through the empty space and his eyes sparkled to let her know there was nothing innocent in that offer which would have bothered her if her own thoughts had been innocent. But the time when she could have pretended she didn’t want him had been gone from the moment she’d felt his hands in her hair and his lips on her neck. And sparks didn’t even begin to cover the extent of that desire.

“Is it safe to get in a car with you?” she quipped at him with maybe just a hint of genuine worry in there. She’d been more distracted thinking about him than she’d ever admit the last few weeks so as much as she liked having his whole focus on her, that could prove to be a bad idea while he was driving.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take if I get to be with you,” Valtor leaned on the car casually and, heavens above, he didn’t get to do that. He didn’t get to read her thoughts and then respond to them, and he most certainly didn’t get to tell her he was willing to die if he could do it with her. But he’d already done it and she’d allowed it, had been ecstatic about it. He was risking so much with the dress he’d made for her, for the two of them and the way their souls seemed to tangle, and she’d let him, she’d been right there with him the whole time, by his side where she’d figured out she liked to be. Not on the podium with only his eyes on her to keep her believing she was beautiful–and she could drown in the way he was drinking in the sight of her even now that she wore designer clothes by someone else–but next to him where his arm was wrapping around her and pulling her closer even though he’d never done that since he respected her personal space. She would love that, would love to wear his touch on her skin all the time as it told her things even his dresses couldn’t when they had the softness and honesty of his soul but not the fire she’d gladly let consume her.

“Did my clothes change your mind?” she asked once she realized the silence around them would never get heavy no matter how long they spent staring at each other like nothing else existed. Or probably because of that.

“No, not at all,” he said and she had no trouble believing the words when it was obvious that he still wanted to rip the clothes off of her. And she wanted to let him, wanted to feel his jealousy and his need but was still scared it wouldn’t match hers, was still doubtful with the distance between them. “Nothing can change my mind about you, Griffin.” The way her name filled the space around them made her the center of the world, of his world, and that was more than she’d ever been in anyone’s eyes, including her own. It only had her wish to run into him and gaze in his that were her mirror and he had the power to make her see herself like that too. And she could only hope she could do the same for him as well. “Because that’s not where you are,” Valtor made her breath stop and, dammit, he couldn’t kill her now before she’d heard how he’d follow that up. “You’re in my heart,” he reached in her chest to take hers but she was only more alive than ever with him tracing his love for her all over it with his fingertips. “You’ve been there from the start with your passion and your strength, and your beauty.”

A sequence like that would have offended her coming from anyone else’s mouth but she knew what he was putting in the words. She knew how he saw the world and that that was the greatest compliment coming from him as he could see all of her and still call her that. And she accepted the title that she hadn’t been able to before now that he’d healed all the wounds that had had the compliment bleeding out of her every time she’d received it. He’d been there by her side and he’d seen everything, he knew what he was talking about and his words weren’t just empty like ghosts floating around her to remind her that no one could see inside her.

She crossed the remaining space between them, her legs like jelly but her steps sure with the sound of her heels to accentuate them. She was made of softness as she’d never been more secure in her feelings and it only gave her the strength to reach for what she wanted. And that was him.

Her hands closed in his shirt as she pulled him into her to finally taste his lips after he’d given her every piece of his soul and her mouth opened to let it all flow inside her. She wanted to feel it, feel all of him, everything. She wanted him to make a masterpiece of her skin when he caressed his feelings on it like he’d already done with her heart, wanted to be his art, the canvas on which he could express himself. She’d soak it all up and let the freedom that he gave her join the one he found in her.

His fingers tangled in her hair for her to let out a moan the moment at the slight pull on her tresses. She wanted to give it to him now that she wasn’t afraid of showing her neediness and the desire bubbling in her chest, in her lungs when she had his hot breath inside them scorching away every disruption in her breathing so that she could fill them fully. And it wasn’t even enough to feel his chest moving against her in the same rhythm as he mirrored her state. She needed to touch him, run her hands over his skin and let them both feel that they were together now, truly entangled in one another and he could hold her freely with no need to do it through the fabric she’d let him wrap around her body reluctantly at first and then more and more eagerly until she’d reached a point where she yearned to have his touch all over her body with no clothes in the way.

She let go of his shirt only to work on undoing the buttons, her mouth still on him, latched on to his now that she’d finally allowed herself to be with him. Her hands slid over the exposed skin the moment she was done with unbuttoning and she had to break the kiss to let out the groan of appreciation she didn’t want to confine in their mouths as the warmth of the contact spread through her palms and further inside her being.

Valtor seemed just as gone as she was, lost in the feeling of her hands all over his torso as a shiver running through him. It could have been from the coolness of her palms on his heated skin but she knew it was because of her, because she was touching him the way they both wanted.

She didn’t waste time and leaned in to kiss his body. Her first stop was his pulse point where she melted at the pounding of his heart inside him like it wanted to get out and into the comfort of her mouth. She’d pull it inside her own chest if she could but she had to settle for leaving her kisses all over his, her lipstick stains staying behind to show for both their feelings and she couldn’t help but smile at the color he’d picked for her as he’d said it complemented her skin tone. It certainly stood out on him in a way that screamed she’d been there and she loved it. It was perfect.

Valtor tugged her up by her hair, the action careful despite the roughness–he’d promised not to hurt her, after all, and he kept his word–and looked her in the eyes, the moment stretching when it became clear he had no intention of speaking as words had never been their language anyway but he still took the time to communicate his desire to her before putting it in her system as he crashed his lips on hers once again. His tongue made itself welcome in her mouth and she could only protest when he had to pull away. But he was still there.

His hands were everywhere, touching for the sake of it this time and not because he was arranging a dress on her figure and she could barely breathe, afraid of breaking the spell of the moment. She hadn’t quite enjoyed it when he’d been dressing her up but the undressing now she could definitely appreciate as his hands pulled her top up and traced over her abdomen searing the sensation into her brain as something new, as the true start of things between them. He hadn’t had access to that before but she’d given it now like she wanted to give him everything, all of herself for him to create with.

He took the opportunity drawing patterns on her thighs as his hands sneaked under her skirt inching closer to their goal as they touched more and more of her and there was less of her skin left unexplored and less sounds she hadn’t made for him. He was eager to get all of those out of her, pressing his fingers into her underwear to have her gasp, then pant when he rubbed them against her and she could feel him watching her face, his fascination seeping through her eyelids with the quietness that accompanied it. He barely dared breathe, the only part of him moving being his fingers, entranced with pleasuring her the same way he was entranced with the sounds she worshiped with which his efforts.

Her head was already spinning just from that before he turned them around and hoisted her up on the hood of his car, the metal pressing into her flesh not cold enough to have her desire sizzle out. If anything, it only made her reach blindly for his belt buckle, not even frustration entering her mind when she couldn’t find it immediately. She got to feel the skin she’d found by accident instead. Even the lack of his heat on top of her as he moved to grab a condom couldn’t pull her brain out of the passionate haze it was wrapped into. The only thing she could think about was him inside her and, luckily for her, that was exactly what she got.

His name almost slipped from her mouth as he entered her but she wanted to save it for when he made her come–she wanted to give him everything but at the right time and she thought he’d appreciate hearing his name drenched in all the pleasure he’d brought her–so she settled for a loud moan instead. Not that she could keep it to that one only. It was just the start and she found herself desperate enough to whine for more as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer, her fingers clutching at his shoulders without the presence of mind she needed to bite at him. She could only hold on and let him give her everything he wanted.

He had it worse, though, his frustration coming through in the way his teeth slid over her skin repeatedly only to pull away at the realization he couldn’t bite at her upper body–and he couldn’t reach lower–with the celebration the next day. He seemed to drown out the fading memory of reality in the sounds she was spilling keenly in response to his fingers moving over her in sync with his thrusts that were pushing her into ecstasy as well as into the hood of the car.

She had to have hurt his hearing with how loudly she moaned out his name right in his ear but he only sank further into her and her embrace until he reached his release as well, her name a breathless whisper on his lips and she couldn’t help the quiver that ran through her at the knowledge he used up the last bit of his oxygen to let her know the depths of the pleasure he’d found himself in, all enveloped in her soul. And she fell in love with the way his muscles slackened as he let his body relax on top of her and weigh her down while he panted softly against her throat. As if feeling her draw in air was helping him do the same and it was so intimate, especially as he pressed his lips there, right above the hollow of her throat, worshiping the very fact that she was alive and breathing. She almost came again just from that.

Valtor helped her get down from the car and reality started coming back as her clothes returned in their places and she could keep her eyes open, could hear the way the sound waves moved through the garage and could remember the sensation of the metal under her back. It started sinking in that she’d just had sex–her first time with Valtor–on the hood of his car in his company’s garage and if that didn’t speak loud and clear of how desperate she’d been for him, then she didn’t know what did. Luckily for her, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Is it finally time to grab that dinner?” Griffin asked as she made sure she’d fixed her skirt properly. She didn’t usually do it backwards. She didn’t even do it at all, her feet firmly on the ground and taking her to her goal, no time for meaningless romantic escapades and flings that just weren’t her thing. But he’d never taken out of her time. He’d only enriched it instead and had helped her find meaning in something she’d despised when she’d started out as a model. She wanted to give him all the time she had.

“Hungry so soon?” A grin pulled at Valtor's mouth at the double meaning of the words.

“Just a dinner, Valtor,” Griffin said but her sentence was disrupted by the chuckle that escaped her.

“Of course,” he agreed instantly. “I know I’m starving. My place then?” Looked like she wasn’t going home. Good thing she’d denied Faragonda’s offer to spend the night with her as she usually did before Griffin had a fashion show the next day. It helped calm her nerves but she hadn’t felt the need this time. Not to mention that she’d gotten tired of Faragonda’s teases about what was brewing between her and Valtor. Probably because they were wilder than what was happening in reality or because she hadn’t wanted to jinx it, even if her own imagination could get quite racy as it turned memory into fantasy and she wasn’t superstitious. Though, it’d turned out just fine. Better than that, in fact.

“You cook?” Griffin tried not to jump to conclusions on either side of the range of answers he could give her. He’d been surprise after surprise so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he could cook. She kind of hoped that he’d say yes, actually. They could have so much fun cooking together.

“God, no,” Valtor dashed those fantasies quickly. “I’m an actual disaster in the kitchen,” he admitted. “The only way I can be helpful there is to assess how aesthetically pleasing a dish looks.” Of course. That did sound like him and she was sure he was great at it. “I assumed you’d prefer the privacy over a restaurant, though. Even if we have to order takeout.”

Griffin nodded, leaving alone the implications behind why he didn’t bring up her place as they could go either way as well. “Okay. And yes, you were right about that. Thank you,” her resistance to reaching out to touch him was a mystery to her after they’d been all over each other. But maybe that was it. She couldn’t exactly trust herself to keep her head in the game around him after she’d let herself have sex in a public space. It sounded like her nightmare and yet, there she was, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her top that was now where it was supposed to be which could be the reason for her restlessness that hadn’t been present while his hands had been on her skin.

“Okay,” Valtor said, a brief pause in him as he debated what to do next, the same frantic energy radiating from him before his hand was on her neck cupping it gently and pulling her into a kiss that she’d need him to hold her for as she her knees buckled just at the contact of their lips but it was over soon. He probably feared that they’d fall down the rabbit hole again if they kept it up. “You can get in the car. I’ll just go make sure we haven’t left a sex tape behind,” his voice was quiet as he was doing his best not to disturb her peace of mind.

Heat rushed through her to set her whole body on fire before it reached her cheeks where it was blocked from escaping her system and started scorching her instead. Though, she had to admit it wasn’t all bad. And while the thought of someone having seen her at a moment so sacred made her hair stand on end and gave her trouble walking the short distance to the passenger door, she couldn’t bring herself to regret the experience.

There was something about the lack of control and restraint they’d both demonstrated that made her blood boil in a most pleasant way. There'd been no containing the passion pouring out from within and the knowledge of how much they’d both wanted it still made her shake on the inside and press her thighs together, the slickness she could still feel making her breath hitch. It was hard to breathe through the thick blanket of tender happiness Valtor had wrapped her into but she wouldn’t change it for anything. She’d yearned for that for so long, had burned in her desire for it until it’d been just beyond painful, and she’d finally gotten a taste of it. All she could do now was hold on to it and try not to let the fear of losing it in her heart but that would prove to be hard when it was so open in her eagerness for new sensations.

Luckily, Valtor caught her short as he came back and reassured her that there’d been no recording made. Apparently his staff was more than loyal and considerate since they’d turned off the cameras the moment it’d become clear in what direction things were going. Which meant they’d jeopardized the security of the building with their sex escapade and embarrassment should have had her sweating but all that was left on her body was the exertion from the sex. He was there with her and she was more comfortable in her skin than she’d ever been before after he’d touched all of her, her body and her soul, and had helped her feel whole.

The car ride had been light, full of joking to compensate for the lack of eye contact and touching. They only sharpened each other’s wit as the comebacks were flying back and forth and she was alive when he matched her every step and pulled her forward. They only had to stop to order food so that they wouldn’t have to wait for it too long once they got to his house. She was quite hungry herself even if they’d sated other urges.

She was stuck in awe when they walked inside his living room and she saw the sketches hanging on the walls instead of the paintings of dogs she’d expected there, too. They were all of dresses she’d worn and Valtor explained that his walls were reserved for his favorite designs. She asked him if he’d put them there before or after he’d had her wear them only to have him help her realize it didn’t matter. Either way he associated his best works with her. And her chest wasn't big enough to contain her heart anymore at the silent confession that she was his muse, his inspiration, and she was barely able to keep inside her all the happiness trying to leak out of her eyes at the thought that she was to someone–to him–what the stars were to her. But she didn’t have to because Valtor could see it and share it with her without taking it away from her. He’d only add more to it instead.

She was surprised to find a piano in there, too, though Valtor’s artistic inclination wasn’t something anyone could dispute. She hadn’t pondered the question if it extended to other forms of art as well. She did have the answer now and she was delighted when Valtor offered to play for her.

The soft melody hung in the air during the rest of their evening while they ate on the couch and took the time to share memories. They knew each other on an emotional level but they didn’t know much details about their backgrounds. And she had to admit her life didn’t seem quite as gloomy when she looked back on it now. Maybe it was because she was bringing up more of the happy moments in favor of keeping the mood light or maybe it was because she’d gotten through all the pain to make her way to the present where she could sit with him and look back on her tears knowing they had been worth it as she got to look into his eyes now and see the light she hoped her own would return.

Next thing she knew was the blinding light of the morning offending her sight after her eyelids were forced open against her will by the incessant sound of his alarm. They’d drifted off to sleep on the couch and her entire body was stiff but at least there was nothing too sore once she worked out the kinks. It wouldn’t get in the way of showing off the dress.

Just the thought had her stomach tightening in anticipation but it wasn’t anxiousness. She was actually so excited about it that she couldn’t quite keep still while Valtor drove her back to her apartment so that she could take a shower and change. And she would’ve loved to ride with him to work as well but she didn’t want to start rumors today of all days. The twins were already teasing her because of the whole business with the dress and how often she’d been finding her way to Valtor’s office the last few weeks. And while they were right to think something was happening there, she didn’t want to have that to worry about on a big day like that one.

She was considerably more relaxed than usually during the whole process of makeup and hairstyling and then dressing. Though, it might have been the fact that she had the same lipstick she’d left on him the previous night applied on her lips–it would give him something to think about the whole time he was looking at her and possibly not only–and she had the orange gems–her sparks–tangled in her braid. It only sparked love towards her process of transformation instead of the hate she usually regarded it with. And then it was finally time for the dress.

Valtor was there to help with the whole process and his hands on her definitely got in the way of concentrating to keep her from troubling her mind with worries but she knew she needed to focus. She couldn’t blow this for the both of them. She wanted to make him proud of her. Not only as his muse but also as his model and that was a first like so many other things were with him. She couldn’t wait to see what else that relationship had to offer.

Her heartbeat raced as she waited for him to announce her entrance but the impulse to run was directed towards the stage, towards him, instead of in the opposite direction as she was so used to it being. She would gladly take his hand and stay at his side at that important for him moment. She wanted to give him the support she hadn’t been able to provide with her own hangups in the way. He’d freed her from them and she wanted to do the same for him, wanted to get out there and show everyone just what beauty he was capable of making when his heart was in it as much as his mind was.

The sound of her name leaving his lips was much louder than it had been when he’d been inside her but it still carried the same affection and his eyes were still full of worship as she stepped on the stage confident like she was a goddess. Because she knew she was one in his eyes and that was all that mattered.

She did her best to contain the smile blooming on her face as she heard the gasps of wonder when the guests’ eyes landed on the dress and the echoes coming from behind her when her secure steps took her closer to him and allowed for the sparks to be noticed. She couldn’t help but revel in the attention this time like never before as she felt beautiful and recognized for who she was. At least by him. But that was more than enough for her, and she didn’t leave his side all night which was exactly what surprised her at his casual comment that his parents had left.

They hadn’t even walked by to congratulate him and despite their clear stance on his whole business, she’d expected at least as much. Valtor wasn't surprised or fazed for that matter and told her that they were just there to save face since they wouldn’t get away with not showing up to their son’s company’s anniversary among their friends.

She didn’t care about them either way, not after he’d told her about their dismissal of his work and she knew their hearts had to be made of unthawable ice if even the sparks he got in his eyes from his passion about a project hadn’t melted their disdain of his talent. And since he didn’t pay attention to their soulless behavior, she decided not to either. She had far more important things to attend to – namely, making sure he was having the time of his life. He deserved it after all his hard work and enthusiasm he’d poured in building his company and his reputation. And she was glad to see he’d also made friends along the way since all the other girls and his other employees shared his happiness and all the genuine joy made for an unforgettable atmosphere that even the outside people couldn’t tear apart.

The party went on till the early hours of the morning, though it was mostly just company staff that was left at that point which only made it merrier. Especially when the photos taken weren’t going to be subjected to meticulous judgment and were just for fun instead. She even indulged all the rest when they begged her to pose with them for a firm album they’d just gotten the idea to make. She couldn’t bail when she was the centerpiece of the whole celebration and of Valtor’s career.

It proved much more fun than she’d expected but she was glad that it was over and it was finally just him and her in his office. She wasn’t quick to get rid of the hairdo this time as the braid was as cozy as home to her but she was making use of the supplies for removing makeup she’d grabbed from the dressing rooms.

“No dinner with the girls this time?” she teased, trying not to let the sad note in her tone take over it. She’d never managed to go to one of those–or rather hadn’t let herself–and since the end of the night was also the end of a whole era, she couldn’t help the feeling of a missed opportunity. The knowledge it was all on her as she’d been cordially invited by pretty much everyone didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

“Well, technically, the celebration ended just now so we proceed with our usual schedule and have the dinner that same evening, so tonight,” Valtor's voice carried a hint of a playful note that was most certainly there to cheer her up since he could read her mind. “Will you come?” he asked, the hope bountiful both in the words and in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Griffin paused her work just for a moment to let him know she truly meant it. If anything, the night had proven that she’d joined a big family–whether she’d liked it or not–and she didn’t want to let that feeling of belonging go. It wasn’t something she’d had before and while she’d never expected to find it at a fashion house, she was ecstatic at having been proven oh so wrong.

“There’s just a thing we need to discuss before we can appear in public together since I’m sure there will be paparazzi following us everywhere,” Valtor made her raise her eyebrow at him both in question and to express her distaste with the whole ordeal of being unable to take a step without being chased by cameras. It was like living in a dystopian novel and those had never been her favorite genre. “The media is already speculating about the nature of our relationship and if it is strictly professional,” he showed her his phone for her to see the article that had already been posted on someone’s blog about the constellations on the bodice of the dress she was still wearing–she didn’t want to part with it yet when she didn’t know if she’d get to put it on again–and how that was probably a hint at the romance between the two of them since Valtor had chosen to put the symbols of their zodiac signs on it. “What do we tell them?” Valtor would’ve managed to sell the collected facade to anyone else but not to her.

“That it is none of their business,” Griffin looked him in the eyes to let him know none of her ardency was directed towards him in this situation. She didn’t want to hide their relationship but she wasn’t ready to deal with the response it would have from the media yet. Plus, she’d love to have him all to herself for a little while at least before they let the world in on their secret.

“True,” Valtor said, but his nervousness was still there. “However, it is my business,” he put the phone away and rose from his desk that he’d decided to use unconventionally instead of sitting in his chair which would have been far more comfortable, especially after the long night they’d had, but maybe the desk provided more space for his restlessness to roll off of him. “So will you inform me about the status of our relationship?” he stepped closer and she couldn’t decide if he still hadn’t wrapped her in his arms because he wanted to give her her space or because he was afraid she didn’t want him close to her. It was unthinkable for her to imagine it was the latter but she needed to rectify it either way.

“Valtor, I had sex with you on the hood of a car in a public space–which I have never done before–followed by us falling asleep on top of each other while talking on your couch,” she said, hoping the reminder would help quell his anxious mind. “This definitely screams relationship to me,” she left everything she was holding on the chair next to her that she was currently using as a vanity sans a mirror as she did her best not to break eye contact.

Valtor grinned at her at the reassurance–and possibly at the memory of their little adventure and her confession it had been a first for her–and pushed away the rest of the remaining space between them as he made his way to her and wrapped his arms around her waist while she rested hers on his shoulders. “Maybe I should have you screaming it to me to convince me then,” he purred, so close to her lips that she couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss him and he knew it damn well. Not before a smartass comeback, though.

His lips were on hers before she could think of one and she let it go as she much preferred to go with his suggestion anyway. Though, the way it was going, she’d do well to forget about having sex in a bed for a while. It seemed they’d make their way through any other possible surface before they got to the comfort of a mattress. She couldn’t even mind much–or at all–when she had him all pressed against her. That was all the softness she needed to be comfortable so she left herself to the kiss and was surprised to find she didn’t mind him taking off the dress if it was to give him access to her skin. His touch was everything and he was giving her all of it.

She never wanted this to end.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #363

(one more that’s a late upload from way earlier in the day, and i yet again don’t feel like updating the answers)

What brings out the worst in you? When I'm very anxious or having a PTSD episode, I can become very snappy and just not a joy to be around. What all did you eat today? This morning I had oatmeal, I had a rice cake as a snack, and lunch was ham and cheese on a tortilla. Some people were really destructive as a child, were you? No, I was a good kid. Who was the last person you were in a car with? My mom. Who was the last person you cried in front of? It was probably Mom. Do you talk about your feelings or hide them? I usually talk about them somewhere, like in surveys if I feel I can't with anyone else. Please be vocal with your feelings. It is so destructive to let them build up. Who was the last person you were with that smelled REALLY good? I'm unsure. Do you know anyone that is gothic? A good number of people, myself included at least in spirit. ;~; I can't really afford good attire, nor do I have the patience for so much makeup maintenance. Have you seen UP? I actually haven't seen the full movie, but I'd like to. How is your mom? Stressed as fuck and tired of everything. What color hair does your mom have? She recently dyed it black. Her hair is growing back totally gray now and she hated it. She's gotten so self-conscious as she's aged. When was the last time you were told you were cute? Idk. Do you feel comfortable getting up and giving speeches? FUCK NO. Have you ever dipped french fries in a frosty? I tried it once and did not get the appeal. Did you have school/class today? No. My school endeavors are done. Do you have any paintings in your room? If so, of what? Yeah, I have my big painting of meerkats grooming above all my 'kat plushies. Have you ever had your photo professionally taken? As a child and by school photographers, anyway. Would you prefer eating jello or pudding? Pudding. After washing your hair, do you put any products in it? No. Last time you ate a salad? Like a week ago when we went to Ichiban for my sister's bday. Do you know how old your house is? No, I don't. Have you ever been described as ”adorable”? Yeah. Have you ever given a lap dance? No. They seem incredibly awkward to me?? Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make mega bucks? No. I can't do a job I hate for anything. I would be so depressed. Are you a moody person? Yes. What are you listening to? I'm watching Gab Smolders' new episode of Resident Evil 8: Village. I'm deadass watching four different LPers play it, I'm only moderately obsessed lmao. What video game could you waste the most time on? WoW, given it has like a zillion different things to do. Yet I still get bored lmao. What is your favorite condiment? Maybe Ketchup? I think I use that for the most things. What is the worst thing that you have ever done? I don't feel like getting into this. How old were you when your parents gave you the "birds and the bees" talk? They didn't; I learned in my school's sex ed in the 5th grade. Have you ever questioned whether or not you'd benefit from therapy? I have benefited from it. What would you like it to say on your gravestone? Hypothetically, idk. But I'd rather be cremated. Would you ever wear real leather or animal fur? NO. Have you ever completely failed a year of school and had to repeat a grade? No. Have you ever been bitten by an animal that wasn't a cat or a dog? Which? I think my old baby iguana bit me once or twice, not that it was very painful at her young age. I can't recall another animal. What type of literature are you most likely to read? (book, magazine, etc) Books. Do you prefer using candles, wax melts, or incense? Incense. Are you someone who actually doesn't have a Facebook? No, I have one. What kind(s) of Facebook groups are you active in, if any? I'm not really *active* in any; I just observe them and interact via "like"s. I'm actually in a whole lot of groups, though. Do you enjoy any herbal or fruit teas? What kinds? Neither. Do you hear any animals right now? No. What are your thoughts on Avenged Sevenfold? I know and like a few songs, especially "Dear God." Do you like Batman? Yeah, I like his "refuse to murder" ideology. The only thing is I kinda have a bad connection attached to him, because Batman was Jason's thing. Have you ever played fetch with a dog? Yes. Does your house have a fireplace? Yeah actually, but it might be fake? I don't even know lol. Have you ever pet a stingray? No. Have you ever dissected a baby pig in a class at school? Oh my god, no. I literally could never. I did dissect a frog in the 7th grade that wound up to be pregnant, though... I wasn't happy about it, but at the same time it was very interesting. Who is the last baby you held? My niece. Do you like Sunkist? The orange kind is fine, but the STRAWBERRY flavor? Jfc I love that shit. Would you ever consider being a cannibal? UM NO Do you have any scars from an animal? I have a lot of scars on my hands from playing with Roman. I scar extremely easily, so just his little scrapes leave marks. Have you ever seen an Igloo? No. Do you like Korn? Love 'em. How many animals do you have? Really two, but we have three in the house right now. Idk when this dog is going away. Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Tornados. Ever rode in a helicopter? No. Do you like rabbits? Yes, they're adorable. Do you like mushrooms? NO. What was the last movie you cried at? I want to say Logan, but I'm not sure. I watch movies so rarely that I really don't know. Would you rather work for a small or large company? Small. I'd feel more useful. What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? I don't know. Have you ever read the book 13 Reasons Why? Yeah. I thought it was good, but now I don't remember like... anything about it. What did you have for breakfast this morning? I had apple and cinnamon oatmeal. How many times have you read your favorite book? Just once. I don't re-read books. Have you ever been on Omegle? No. Are you still in love with one of your exes? "In love," no. Do you think being born was a mistake? Yeesh, no. Has a relative ever been arrested? My psychotic uncle (by marriage) has been. Was it a serious crime? Quite honestly, I don't remember. I just know he's an angry and dangerous motherfucker. Do you think the Fountain of Youth exists? No. How about in a parallel dimension? Doubtful. Do you believe humans are part of a giant alien experiment? I ponder over the possibility of being a research simulation, kind of like a much advanced version of The Sims, but I honestly doubt it. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Was it a passing phase or is it something controlled by medication? Therapy and medication saved me. Is there a holiday you wish no one celebrated? Which is it? Why do you feel that way? Fight me about Christopher Columbus Day. He didn't discover shit. Have you taken any writing classes? How about art? I've taken a writing course in college, and I've taken loads of art classes. What’s your all-time favourite band? How about all-time fave singer? Ozzy Osbourne; Freddie Mercury. What three songs do you want played at your funeral? Why those particular songs? "Like A Woman" by Alice Cooper, "Life Is Beautiful" by Sixx A.M., and "Angels on the Moon" by Thriving Ivory. I just like them and find them suiting. Do you think most mythological creatures exist? No. Have you ever had lice? No. What is one superstition that freaks you out? Why is that? I’m not superstitious. Are either of your parents retired yet and if not, what do they do? No. Dad is a mailman, and while Mom doesn't ~officially~ work yet because she's recovering from intense cancer treatment, she very recently resumed lightly cleaning a church for a small payment. Kinda like a warmup. When did you or do you want to move out of your parents’ house? I wanna move out once I'm in a long-term, stable relationship with someone so we can live together. Me living alone is NOT a good idea. How do you like your current job, or if you’re unemployed, have you been looking for employment? I don't have a job, but when I go to my tattoo appointment, I'm going to ask them if they'd be interested in hiring someone for the front desk. I think it's def something I could do because I love the environment, there's really not that much I need to know (like where the Doritos are, dealing with exact change, answering a dozen unique questions), it's not insanely busy, and the occasional phone call would challenge my anxiety and just be a minor inconvenience to me until I got used to it. My partial hospitalization program really got me wanting to fight back against what gives me anxiety, to truly expose myself to what scares me, while not going totally overboard with it. It was encouraging to hear my therapist there thought it was a magnificent idea for me. I decided I wanted to ask while at the parlor getting work done to show serious interest (like I'm not just some random chick walking in and asking for a job), as well as let the people warm up to me. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much, but damn am I wishing. I want it so badly. What kind of booze did you last take shots of? I've never taken shots.