#edit: HANG ON my vacation was TWO YEARS AGO??

[cain-e-brookman]

Alright, so I finished my current read, (which I will not be counting on this challenge since I read most of it in 2024,) so I'm going to be starting @batmanisagatewaydrug's 2025 Book Bingo.

First up is for the 'In the Aughts' square, and I'm choosing Octavia Butler's Fledgling.

I've wanted to read more Butler since Wild Seed, and I got this two years ago to read on vacation, (along with Giovanni's Room by Baldwin, which I did finish,) and didn't get to. Now that I've freed myself from the Book Mines and reading no longer feels like work, it's time to pick this up again. I'll update this post with a review after I'm done!

[morrigan-sims]

Top 24 Screenshots of 2024

I was tagged by @loony-moonsims Thank you!! (Sorry for being so late. I was on vacation and didn't have access to my laptop with all my screenshots.) I'm not going to tag anyone else to do this because it's way too late and I don't know who has or hasn't done it. But if you want to, feel free to say I tagged you!!! It is a lot of fun to do! I already did one favorite post from each month in my 2024 "Year In Review" post, but that was strictly one per month and didn't give me a chance to talk about it. So expect a lot of rambling under the cut.

tw for blood in several images and for spider imagery in Oct/Nov.

January

Starting on January 1st, I fell head-over-heels in love with Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous -- now my favorite game of all time -- and with Areelu Vorlesh. I tried my hand at recreating characters from images, which I'd never done before, and it actually turned out pretty well. (And started a mini obsession.) My first version of Areelu was not my most accurate, but I do have a deep soft spot for it, for many reasons. And while Reda isn't perfect either, I do love how she turned out as a sim.

February

The month of goth/dark fantasy people, I guess. The Lady of Ravens was very fun to design, and I discovered that that pose looks perfect with the crow/raven accessory I have.

March

In March I got bored of sweet, cutesy flower sims, and decided it was about time someone played into the horror of being both a person and a plant. And thus this sim, who someone described as "sleeping beauty if she took control of the roses and became a villain" was born. She has thorny vines growing under and over her skin, and that rose has burst from her eye. I wanted her to have little thorns poking out from under her skin, but no such cc existed, unfortunately.

Also in March, I played the first of Rook's two Horrible, Very Bad, No-Good weekends. This render (lovingly dubbed "Mirror Punch" in my folders) was meant to represent the scene that the party saw upon rushing to see what the giant crash they all heard from the lower floor of the inn was about. Rook had just woken up from being asleep for over 12 hours after passing out from exhaustion and stress, only to be told that the "chihuahua" the party had rescued the day before just so happened to be the very same man who had sold Rook to Captain Wolf 3 years ago. Oh, and this was after dying once and then having a very emotionally tense conversation with his mentor once he woke up. Because my boy is an idiot who doesn't know how to handle emotional surprises, he decided to try and punch a mirror, because repeatedly killing an imaginary version of said chihuahua/man wasn't working.

I'm still incredibly proud of this render. Editing the mirror to be cracked took me over two hours, let alone drawing in all the blood.

April

In April I was deep in my pirate obsession, in part brought about by obsessively watching Black Sails for the first time. I made the first draft of my ship infirmary (now the canon appearance of the Tide Breaker's infirmary), and also made this sim, who despite my best attempts to NOT relate everything to Rook ended up becoming the canon appearance (in my head at least) for Kholl, the Tide Breaker's surgeon, and Jay's mentor.

May

May was a great month for renders. Actually this one specific week was great for renders, since these both got posted in less than a week. The Nine of Swords is still one of my favorite renders I've ever made. I just love the way the composition works, with the chains framing it, and the swords (all copies of Wolf's rapier from my edit of her as Justice) hanging over Rook's head. Of course, I can only take partial credit, since I was inspired by Sara Kipin's version of the card.

Morana's Death card was also a lot of fun to make. It was my first attempt at putting trees into blender (a pain in the ass, but worth it) and with using photo background (easier, and also worth it). I really enjoyed how the final product turned out, and it's just such a good representation of her. She's named after a Slavic goddess of death and winter, and she's a necromancer from a frozen place, so it works well. I also really like the added touch of the red coming from the skull's eye, which was suggested by someone I was on call with while making the render.

June

June was ALSO all about the dnd characters. Aside from spending way too much time furnishing Lockwood Manor and making its awful owner, making Val as a sim, and giving Zenara a zillion new outfits, I also made these two edits.

The Judgement card was my first big in-game edit in a very, very long time. It was an interesting challenge to get it to turn out how I wanted it to. While the editing for this one was very simple, getting everything else as I wanted it was difficult. There was a lot of TOOL involved, and gshade and Relight saved my ass when it came to getting the nighttime scene to look right. This card is a recreation of a moment from Avra's backstory, where she awoke in her own grave. On digging her way out, she found a raven messenger waiting for her. The Judgement card is just too fucking perfect for her, and it was a lot of fun to create my own version of it.

Aspen's Fool Card was an idea that had been floating in my mind for MONTHS before I finally got around to making it. I could not possibly be happier with how it turned out. This was my first experiment with sizing up sims in blender, and it worked perfectly!!! A giant version of Fin (the jester-like god of death and Aspen's warlock patron) looming over Aspen dancing on strings was exactly what I had in mind. It was also my first experiment with bringing in 3D meshes that weren't already made for the sims, which was interesting.

July

July was all about the Liars. I played through (most of) Rook's SECOND Horrible, Very Bad, No-Good Weekend, which kicked off with the traumatic reveal that Rook's beloved mentor, Sigmar, was actually a corpse being puppeted by the BBEG, Dr. Purity. And not only that, but the party wizard, Maka, had known since day 1. Given Rook's name, and the fact that the special moves Sigmar had been teaching him were all named after chess pieces, it was just too damn perfect to turn Rook into a chess piece for this render. To this day, it's one of my favorite renders I've ever made. Not only does it LOOK amazing, but the layers upon layers of symbolism and little details hidden in it, most of which mean nothing to anyone other than me and the DM of Rook's game. This was my 2nd experiment with giant sims in blender, and also with outside models, as well as my first horizontal/landscape render. Making the pose for this one was a TON of fun, and I got to play around with some editing methods I hadn't used in a LONG time.

Speaking of Dr. Purity, his Temperance card was my most detailed blender set to date!! The many objects were a lot of fun to import and set up. And the editing was SO much fun. Drawing all the shadows on his clothes was a ton of fun, as was fixing the clipping in his hair and figuring out how to make it look like there was liquid in the flask was also fun. This is maybe my least popular render, but I am proud of it and I do love it. We finally got a face reveal of the BBEG, of course I had to do something with that!!! (I definitely didn't only start caring this much about him after finding out he was Sigmar's true identity. Nope, not at all.)

August

In August, I was back in a furnishing mood, this time working on the pirate ships. (I was simultaneously working on making maps for all three of them for our VTT.) I really love how this shot of Zara's cabin turned out. And this coming weekend Rook gets to step into this room again, this time as Captain in his own right! I can't fucking wait.

The Weeping Angels gif was SO much fun to make. It wasn't my first time making a gif, but it was the first in a long time, and also by far the most complicated one I'd ever made. It ended up being well over 30 frames long, and I love the final result!!! (After I made it, I watched it so many times I started to get a headache, lmao.)

September

September Rook was still having a Bad Time, and I got obsessed with Carrion.

I love how the editing (although simple) turned out on this render of Rook. The accents on the chains, the veins I drew under his skin, it all looks great. My poor boy, he does NOT deserve this, lmao. Sorry buddy. This render is (somewhat understandably) one of my least popular, but I still love it a lot.

Theodore's render is also super simple, but looks really good to me. Once again, drawing in details on the armor/clothes was a fun experiment, and so was adding more definition and age to Theodore's face. This was also only my 2nd time sculpting clothing in blender (the first being the Nine of Swords) with his cape, and it looks quite nice.

October

In October, I was hard-core fixating on Zara's upcoming introduction, so she (FINALLY) got her own tarot card. I can't believe it took me as long as it did to realize the World was her card. Anyways, I like how this one turned out. The symbolism with the items and their placement was a lot of fun to add in, and the colors turned out great.

The other shot I really really loved was this preview picture for my spider legs accessory edit. Using TOOL to get the sim in position was a pain, but it turned out SO worth it. This sim in general was super fun to make and looks badass as hell, but her in this pose with the throne is even better.

November

In November I took a break from editing and rendering to get back in P:WotR mode, so I did some neat little recreations of character portraits from the game. I was on my evil run this time, and these two were my two new discovery favorites. I was quite happy with how well I was able to recreate these just with what I had in my game.

December

In December I was back on my rendering bullshit, this time with Carrion. I'd had this idea for MONTHS, since one of the other players in his campaign gave it to me, honestly the scenes were basically done. I barely had to do anything to them, and the editing was super basic. (Hilariously someone left tags saying they loved the editing, and my only thought was "thank you, but I basically didn't do anything". Which I guess is a compliment to my blender skills if it makes them look well-edited.)

I especially loved pulling the reversal of the werewolf, where the full moon is monstrous and the new moon is safe. Also just creating Carrion's monster form in general was a lot of fun to do. I made several pieces of cc just for Carrion (his normal armor, his monster arm spikes), and did some whacky things to get him to look how I wanted. (There's actually two copies of monster Carrion standing there. One of them is just the tips of his toes the other is the rest of his body, sans toes. I did this so I could give him the split feet, which are actually illithid feet from BG3, converted by Shandir.)

I also just straight up painted + clone-stamped in a portion of his arm in the monster image, because it was clipping with his leg. I'm proud to say I don't think you can tell. And adding small lights for his eyes in that form was also a very fun little touch. (Honestly, the lighting in general was an adventure in this one. I hated it at the time, but looking back it was an interesting challenge.) I also learned what HDRIs are and how to use them, so that was a fun learning experience for me!

Final Thoughts

I made SO much progress in rendering this year, and I'm very proud of myself. I would love to whittle down my unfinished renders / not started render concepts to zero in 2025, but knowing me that's never going to happen. (ADHD, baby!!!) But I had a TON of fun this year and I'm so happy with all the things I made, be they in CAS, in build mode, or in blender.

And I'm glad you all were along for the ride!!! Whether you've been following me for years, or you just followed me last week, I'm glad you're here. While I'd make these things for myself, it's a thousand times more fun to share them with others, and knowing other people like my work just makes me more motivated to make it.

[ingydar-phan]

Happy birthday Dan. I found you at a very, very low point in my life. It’s funny, because that point was only a few months ago. March 3rd. March 3rd. Jesus Christ. I was dealing with severe bullying, depression, hopelessness, isolation, gender dysphoria (i have been out/socially transitioned for like 5 years), and most of all, loneliness. I had a circle of about 3 friends who i talked to regularly, but only 1 i even saw in person more than once per year. Then, two of those 3 people began having relationship issues and were on the verge of breaking up. I felt like i was a bother, a burden to their already existing issues. Every single day I’d walk into school, put my headphones on, and not talk to a single person. I’d read, sleep, listen to music, dissociate, and sleep some more throughout the day just to distract myself from everything. From class, from parents, from the outside, everything. I fully and truly believed everyone besides those 3 people hated me. They found me disgusting, annoying, taking up space, and simply didn’t want me there. I think that is true to an extent, but i don’t like how i was just letting that be how it is. My dad was genuinely hopeless, he told me to just ride it out and if i could try to be just a little bit normal-er, maybe i wouldn’t be ignored by every person every day. That didn’t work. Instead, i decided to do some self work. Or rather, my dad stopped intruding on my free time which allowed me to still be awake and do things i wanted to do in peace. I thought, “Dan and Phil….those two emo guys with the cat whiskers….i have such a vague memory of a friend mentioning them or scrolling across a post of them, who even are they?”. I typed into the YouTube search bar “Dan and Phil”. A gaming channel? Are these people streamers? Oh god (i did not know you were one of us 🏳️‍🌈….or british…..). I watched one video. Now, ACCORDING TO YOUTUBE HISTORY, i somehow watched What Dan And Phil Text Each Other 4 as my first video. Not even the gaming channel, i don’t know how this happened maybe YouTube is lying to me. Whatever. Ok so which ones Dan and which ones Phil? Why do they look SO different? They’re British? I started watching Dan and Phil edits on TikTok. Ok, i know who you are, i get the vibes. Oh, coming out timeline? Gaming channel timeline and hiatus? Reacting to PINOF? On March 13, i watched Basically I’m Gay and Coming Out To You. It took me an entire month from then to watch Why I Quit YouTube. By late April, i was in it. I was watching Dan or Phil every day. Before, during, and/or after school. Since then, I’ve purchased YWGTTN (limited edition signed updated paperback). It was 38 fucking dollars in USD but it was worth it. I also now own TATINOF and DAPGO, one of which is signed by Phil, i bought second hand. So yes, now this is my new thing. But you know what else? I was getting happier. I was going to more concerts. I was doing my schoolwork, or at least trying to. I was reading!!!! I’ve since finished The Secret History. I made a friend; reconnected with an old childhood friend and started eating lunch together and hanging out and having shared trauma dump sessions, and we are so so close now. My two friends broke up, but it’s ok. I’m best friends with one of them and he’s so much better off, and the other and i are still casual friends!! I value them both for the multiple years I’ve known them. I’ve taken family vacations and done religious holidays with genuine care while getting to reconnect with my family. I’ve very passionately finished acting in a musical that I’ve put so much care into for about 5 months. I’m graduating tomorrow!!! And me and my close friend will be going to a concert tomorrow night afterwards, and I’m going to have a great summer where i see my close friend who i haven’t seen IRL since March of 2023. I’m getting closer with my dad and seeing a new therapist. I am having medical problems as of right now, but i would 100% be lying in bed crying and skipping graduation had i not found a reason to enjoy my days.

Did i just take one sentence referencing Dan to write a whole autobiography on tumblr? Yes, but also no. Dan and Phil are real people. They really do rescue pigeons named Steve and getting 10 sauces for their pizza and say hi across the city with binoculars. But they also genuinely have an impact on people, and they see that, and they LIKE to see that. I don’t think Dan will see this post. But I’m making it anyway. For me.

I love Dan so much. I cried twice while watching We’re All Doomed in my kitchen. I have actively watched Dan and Phil videos while crying at school. Once, in my bedroom, i was having a panic attack. I had an overwhelming rush of thoughts around 10 or 11 at night about how worthless i am and how terrible everything was going. I opened my tiktok, and there was THE edit that saved me. It was a video of fetus Dan on YouNow talking about his dream home. And then it was cutting back and forth to the Phouse. Then, Dans hopeful monologue in Basically I’m Gay. Finally, Dans hopeful monologue in We’re All Doomed. All of this in a softly shaky screen with sad music behind it. I cried a lot. This aspect of my life means so much to me. I think about the Halloween 2023 baking video at least 5 times a day (and sister Daniel’s….uhm….legs…). I am still so mad i did not buy the satanic Craft shirts. I just rewatched Dans interview last year with Anthony Padilla just because of how goddamn much I’m obsessed with that angle of Dan with his cute chin and cheeks and fucking dimple. I think about Dans bluntness in his defined-self and truly feel inspired to be like him. I look at his change over the years, his comfortability in his body, seeing that his face and neck are shaped like my face and neck, and he’s fucking beautiful. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable in my weight if not for Dan Howell, and i mean that so insanely sincerely. I read Dans book whenever I’m feeling hopeless and need a soft sexy British man to tell me the scientific reasoning behind why i feel this way and to assure me he’s felt worse. I’m so serious when i say i cannot imagine a day of my life without Dan and Phil. I truly don’t understand how i lived before or how I’d expect to live without it. “Live”, in the sense of find a way of life, not as in “stay alive.” I can’t imagine a day without those big brown boba eyes and that cute dimple and mainly that calming voice that reminds me someone else has felt this way. That reminds me love is possible. That reminds me i have so much ahead of me, so much life and love and joy.

Phil’s birthday stream may be my favorite piece of Dan and Phil media, or at least one of them. I find it so comforting and wholesome and beautiful and hilarious. I have such high hopes for Dans birthday stream. Until then, I’ll be working on my long-awaited (still very very unfinished) 2009!Dan and Phil art piece within my art initiative (pinned on my profile) (just for funsies, no money or anything involved). I’m going to sit there at 3pm (my time) and watch with a huge smile on my face to see my amazing dads spend the time of their lives being sexy and old and happy and disgustingly homosexual while i just embrace all you’ve done for me.

Happy birthday Dan

@danielhowell

[simmancy]

Happy Spooky Season, ghosts & ghouls! 

I’m participating in @simblreenofficial​ again this year! My blog is getting appropriately spooky (its a WIP). Here’s what’s happening this month on simmancy-dot-tumblr-dot-com.

𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜! 👋

Hi there if you’re new! My name is Kit, I am 31 now, this is my simblr, it’s a mess. When I’m actively posting, I post a variation of gameplay and some very basic storytelling and sometimes poorly done edits, so if that isn’t your jam, that’s okay! Just letting you know, k-pop inspired sims and vampires might be here, sometimes the pictures are sorta pretty. There’s a disclaimer on the blog stating that generally my content is akin to PG-13, anything you could construe as being above that rating gets tagged.

Sometimes I post CC. It’s rare but it happens.

𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚎 🍬

I’ll be participating in simblreen festivities again this year! The first weekend my porchlight will be on all 3 days, a different tiny gift each day. When you see that the porchlight is on, feel free to come knocking! If you miss it, don’t fear–I’ll be releasing them all on October 31!

As of right now, I’m not planning on participating the full time the second weekend as I have IRL plans but I’m not sure if I’ll do a candy bowl or not. We’ll see!!

𝟸𝟾 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝙰𝚂 🧛

I’ve been trying to work on some of these up but I am famously lazy. ANYWAY though I am trying to do this challenge by @nikatyler​ so if you are ALSO vampire obsessed let a girl know. I love a good vampire!!

𝚁𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 🌕

Hi regular followers!! I’m working on queueing Not So Perry (my Not So Berry challenge) as well as Star x Crossed (my s-pop story). They are going slowly because I’m currently ✨ tired ✨. This week I think I’m going to take a break from both and mostly do reblogs and finally clear out my ask box, so I can focus of finishing shooting Episode 1 of Star x Crossed.

I have another two saves I’ve been working on/playing in the background that are meant for simblr but I’m not ready to share them... just yet. Maybe soon!

I might drop ACNH content again too LMAO I’m currently back to hanging out on my island of Briarwood... Going on vacation and being away from my computer for a week really made me pick ACNH back up, yes.

𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚄𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 🔮

I copied and pasted this whole newsletter format from the year I got married :’) That was two years ago now!! Time sure does fly??

My “new job” isn’t so new anymore--I’ve been there a year--and it’s still pretty good! It keeps me busy... And this time of year can be unpredictable so while I’m not super-duper busy right this second it could change in an instant. We also have another round of weddings coming up to attend, plus my better half and I now throw the annual Halloween party in our friend group. 

I also read more, but that’s because my coworker keeps giving me books LMAO

Anyway, that’s my update of the year. Happy spooky season everybody! I hope it’s a good one!

Stay safe & spooky out there!

[sabraeal]

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

*

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

*

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

*

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

*

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

*

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {1}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, 

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated. 

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

***Picture Heavy***

Chapter One

“You were supposed to be on your way home.”

 You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.

 “You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.

 Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.

 “I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

 You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.

 “What’s happening?”

 “Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.

 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”

 You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.

 “Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”

 You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.

 When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.

 “Excuse me, where are we?”

 “Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”

 The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.

You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.

 Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.

 “How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”

 A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”

 No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.

 “According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”

 Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.

 “You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”

 The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”

 The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.

 “So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”

 “We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”

 Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.

 “Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”

 Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.

 “Sorry.”

 The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”

 “Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.

 “Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”

 Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.

Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.

 After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.

You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.

 You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.

 When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.

 “Brexendor? What the hell?”

 The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.

 By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.

“Holy shit!”

 You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.

 For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.

 “Miss?”

 Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.

 “Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”

 “Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”

 Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.

 “Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”

 You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.

 “It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”

 Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”

 “I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”

 Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.

 “Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.

 You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.

 “Okay, what’s your name, darling?”

 “Uh, Xari Thornton.”

 “Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”

 You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.

 “Thank you.”

 “You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.

 You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.

 “No suitors here.”

 Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.

 “That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”

 You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.

 Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.

 “Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”

 “Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.

 Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.

 “I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”

 “That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.

 You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.

 “Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.

 “My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.

 “If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”

 “Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”

 Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”

 You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”

 “Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.

 Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.

 Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.

 Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.

 As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.

 When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.

 “Jesus.”

 If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.

There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.

 When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.

 “Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.

 “That is Hogan’s prized possession.”

You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.

 “Is—is that right?”

 “Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.

 You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”

 Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.

 “Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.

 He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.

 “Xari.”

 His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”

 You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”

 “Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”

 “Shandoe?”

 Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”

 You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.

 “Are you a reporter?”

 “No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”

 The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Uh—what is he drinking?”

 “The Mistletoe Bomb.”

 You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”

 “You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.

 “Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”

 Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”

 “Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”

 Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.

 “Em, I’m Henry.”

 You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.

 “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.

 “Same,” you whispered.

 Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.

 “One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”

 You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.

 “Holy fucking shit!”

 The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.

 “What the hell is that?”

 “Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.

 “No, shit.”

 Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.

 “How can you drink this?”

 He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.

 “I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”

 You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.

 “Would you like a straw?”

 You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.

 “So you are new in town,” Henry began.”

 “Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”

 “Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”

 You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.

 “Yes. I’m from America,” you began.

 “Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”

 You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.

 “I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.

 “Oh, so you’ve been?”

 “No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”

 You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.

 “Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.

 “Well, your studies have paid off.”

 “Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”

 “No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”

 “Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.

 “Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”

 You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.

 “Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”

 “What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”

 Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Would that be unusual?”

 “Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”

 “Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.

 “Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”

 Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.

 His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”

 He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.

 “Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”

 Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.

 “Did I say something wrong?”

 “No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”

 You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”

 “Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.

 His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.

 “Are you involved?”

 Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.

 “I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.

 “I am not—involved,” he answered.

 “You said it like you weren’t sure.”

 “It is complicated.”

 “Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

 Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.

 “You have not answered my inquiry.”

 “Inquiry?”

 Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.

 “On if you are involved,” he clarified.

 “I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”

 “I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”

 You smiled and began toying with your necklace.

 “I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”

 He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.

 “To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”

 You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.

 “There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.

 “You too.”

 “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”

 You smiled, “You too.”

 Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.

 This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.

 You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.

 “I have to go,” he announced.

 Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.

 “I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”

 You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”

 Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.

 “I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.

 You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”

 Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.

 “It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”

 “Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.

 Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.

 “Can I drive you back to the Inn?”

 “No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”

 “Are you sure?”

 You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”

 “I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”

 Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.

 “In another life,” Henry softly said.

 He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.

Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.

 Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.

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

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[anonymoushouseplantfan]

M is continuing her streak of making it worse than we predicted. Instead of exclusive interview as a family w/ Oprah or at least Gayle or in Vogue/Vanity Fair, they appeared as a family in 2020 in their own podcast and probably in People magz. Always underwhelming, and they've stubbornly been clinging to their Royal titles, but each appearances now is in the form of celebs style, and not even a good one

I know! I do have to give them some credit for keeping up the “we’re so successful” charade, but it’s a freaking podcast. They’re also selling lattes and whatnot. 

I laugh whenever I see one of their sugars saying how “successful”t hey are. Two years ago Meghan was editing Vogue and publishing a bestselling  cookbook. She was living in Windsor and vacationing with Amal Clooney. She was hanging out with Jacinda Arden for crying out loud. She was bffs with the Givenchy designer and she wore Dior every other day.

Now she’s doing podcasts like my old college roommate.

[chemicalpink]

Power and Control ♡ Jung Hoseok

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x reader

Genre: smut, angsty

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Sugar baby themes, power dynamics outside the bedroom, unprotected sex 

Summary: Women and men we are the same but love will always be a game and I’m gonna make you fall.

A/N: Well this was a stubborn one. Like seriously took me a whole month to try and write Hoseok as a villan-y character and at the end... i kinda failed BUT I really liked this one. Thanks for waiting. I hope you are doing great with life aside from all that is going one. Take care. I hope you like this one! 

Hoseok wouldn’t dare to try and label what you and he had as conventional, hell, he wouldn’t even dare to try and label himself as conventional, quite the contrary, because really, what’s a broke college-graduate-to-be got to do when a beautiful, empowered woman like yourself is seeking out a sugar baby deal? Say no? He would have to be stupid, plus, it’s not like you two are 10 or so years apart, you’re just 2 years older than him; plus, the deal was simple enough, apart from a disclosure contract and a few sessions of experimenting what you two liked with each other, it had been easy enough to fall into a routine.

Said routine meaning two to three sessions a week, some weekends together and playing as arm candy in most of your business parties, to which he would then find his semester’s tuition fee paid off, the latest limited-edition Supreme collection on his college dorm and one time, an all-included vacation to Europe for Christmas.

As time went on, nearly a year into it, it had become harder and harder to keep coming up with excuses as to how exactly he was being able to afford such a luxurious way of living without it being apparent that he had worked for it, especially when his closed group of friends were clearly struggling with it all (he might have asked you once to pay for Namjoon’s tuition fee after he got injured and couldn’t work for the month, the guy so in the clouds hadn’t even noticed the debt gone), and you know, Jung Hoseok isn’t a man with fragile masculinity, he knows exactly who he is, so even if for him being a sugar baby was really no big deal, the constant assumption of sugar babies having daddy/mommy issues sure was in the back of his mind every time he so much as the thought of sharing his lifestyle with his friends crossed his mind (cause he did not have daddy/mommy issues, thank you very much).

“Hobi, this just got here for you, I thought we had talked about your shopping addiction?”  Namjoon said as he passed him by on his way out the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, small package on the other, placing it on the kitchen counter before turning to look at him. Hoseok so much as fake laughed his worst laugh trying (and most probably failing) to not make his roommate any more suspicious. 

See, the greatest excuse for the time being all those months ago, when you had started gifting him stuff and sending it to his dorm, was saying that he ‘might have developed an addiction to online shopping’. He had talked it out with you, and you agreed to start delivering the gifts on your sessions. Hoseok hummed while taking the package from the counter “I just- I had this coupon and I had to use it” Namjoon wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore, he could clearly not have said a thing.

“Hey, hyungs would you mind if I-OH MY FUCKING GOD IS THAT BOX FROM THE NEWEST CHANEL COLLECTION???” Taehyung was… quite a melodramatic man when it came down to his expertise: fashion; which was one of the reasons Hoseok could kind of breathe around his own home. Namjoon didn’t know shit about fashion. But Taehyung would a hundred percent not fall into his ‘I got a coupon’ facade for a split second. His throat ached to instinctevely deny the younger’s claim but he knew it would do no good. Hoseok had once committed the deadly mistake of wearing one of the perfumes you had gifted him for his birthday to one of their nights out and that man right there, Kim Taehyung, had known from a sniff that he was wearing a thousand dollars Paco Rabanne Luxe Edition 1 million 18 carats. How exactly? He wouldn’t dare to ask. Taehyung knew his fashion. But the night didn’t seem to come to an end soon enough with his friend’s questioning. “Hoseok-hyung, how did you get access to one of the most exclusive collection previews of the world? I mean, I’m all for Gucci, but go off I guess”

So they are talking about it. May the gods have mercy on his unable to lie for his life soul.

“It was a gift from uh- my distant rich- auntie?” both Taehyung and Namjoon turned to look at him in the most sceptical way possible, but soon went back to their conversation.

He was going to have the talk with you later, for the second time. As if on cue, his phone dinged with a text from you, very out of character, if he may add, you two kept it on the line of the contract that bound the two of you, no texting, no calls, no nothing. He was busy with school most of the time and you were probably busier with your business stuff anyways.

From: Y/N [12:38]

You got my gift?

To: Y/N [12:38]

Yeah. Now apparently I have a rich distant auntie that is sending me expensive af gifts.

To: Y/N [12:39]

But then again, who am I to complain, right?

From: Y/N [12:43]

Great. Wear it tonight. 10 pm sharp. Long day.

Over the course of the months with you, he had learnt quite a few things about himself, first, he had an expensive taste, he just couldn’t afford it. Second, you knew his love language was being gifted things, and lord, did you take advantage of that to keep him wrapped around your finger. Third, he always felt as if you had come to know him inside and out so clearly, you had come to read him like an open book but he couldn’t say the same. You were a reserved woman, he knew that. With your position and all, it made sense. But he was just as cold to people he wasn’t close with, so he had to have some upper hand at it. Even after spending days on researching you he always came empty-handed. Sure, you two fucked, kissed, hanged out, but there was just this sense of chemistry lacking as if you two melted together when naked but once the fog cleared, it became a constant battle to gain control over the other. You had gifts to win him over. He had his charm and amazing bedroom skills to keep you grounded. You made it work. Kind of.

He arrived at your place a few minutes before 10, making himself a drink at the sky bar in the middle of your living room as he stared outside the floor-length window to watch Seoul’s night sky and lighted ground of the busy city, your heels clicking on the floor when you entered the space.

“Oh you got here early?” he turned around to watch you dispose of your jewellery in the entrance table, stealing glances at him every few seconds “I didn’t think you would actually listen to me and wear it, do you like it?

Hoseok lifted the glass to his lips to sip the alcohol. The poorly lit room brought a new light to you that deep down he had known for a while but he wasn’t willing to accept, the tiredness behind your eyes luring him in, making him imagine for a second that the setting was much more domestic than what it really was “Got off classes early and yeah, it does the job, thanks”

You made your way to the bar to fix yourself a drink, all the while he couldn’t stop staring at you, the imposing aura you always exuded sending shivers down his spine, his mind racing. He could already picture you bent over the couch for him as you took a seat and waved him over.

He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how much time went by when your lips found his, your dress riding up your thighs when you moved to straddle him, hands finding your ass, tongues fired up with evident desire as you ground down on his hard length “You texted me first today” you broke away from the kiss to look at him funnily, for the first time in the almost a year knowing you, he could see the slightest of vulnerability in your eyes, fondness, for him. So after all, you were wrapped around his finger “Are you falling in love with me, miss Y/N?” 

Your answer was very much in character, sucking his jawline while your hands worked their way down his pants to free his cock, stroking him a few time to bring it to a full length, his head throwing back into the couch in pleasure as you retorted teasingly “Think you’re going to break my heart, Hobi?” 

He knew then that your favourite game had begun. A constant game of tug and pull to lead the sex that had become a routine for both of you.

He had somehow worked his way under your dress at the same time as he pushed his pants to his ankles and removed them, giving your clothed core just the right amount of friction you were seeking and providing him with the perfect moment to flip you both over on the small space, a smirk taking over his factions “You might be good looking baby, but you’re not a piece of art”

“God I need you so much right now” you whispered at him, before tracing the expanse of his back under his newly bought sweater, distracting him enough for you to take his place on top, aching core approaching his face as his smile didn’t seem to get any bigger “Dinner’s served”

“My favourite,” he said before beginning to suck on the inside of your thighs, working his way to where you needed him the most, hot tongue wetting your already drenching panties for a few seconds before he pushed the cloth aside and gripped you even closer to his face, teeth nibbling at your folds teasingly, drawing a loud moan out of you, walls instinctively clenching as his tongue traced you whole, lewd noises filling up the room, subtly grinding up to him as he traced circles on your clit before eating you out once again, up until your thighs started trembling against his head, yours thrown back in ecstasy at the pleasure. His face glistening with your juices once you let him take control over the situation.

Hoseok’s deft fingers rid you of both of your remaining pieces of clothings as you tried to catch your breath, fully aware of what was about to go on after you had your fun with him. Your exposed skin hits the coldness of the floor as Hoseok rolled both of you down the couch, making you shiver as a smile is plastered in the younger’s face; you close your eyes for a split second, not needing to know that for the time being, Hoseok was pumping his hard cock to ready himself for you, small fluttering kisses adorning the space just below your neck as he approaches your ear silently “I was thinking… a Tesla would be a great combo with my brand new Chanel collection, you know?”

A small laugh leaves your lips before you open your eyes to see him hovering above you, eyes  travelling your face, a few strands of hair covering his “You are not sweet talking me into buying you a Tesla, Hoseok”

“I was thinking more of fucking it out of you” it is then that he enters you in a swift thrust, letting you adjust for a few seconds before moving experimentally at the new angle for both of you that was your living room floor, his hand coming up to place your right leg over his shoulder, gaining him better access to have you whimpering below him, just the way he liked. Long, skilled fingers caress your clit as he keeps a steady rhythm inside of you, feeling the warmth enveloping him and your walls clench around him as he speeds up his pace on your nerve bundle.

“Oh g-Hoseok I’m gonna cum” your voice is strained and he feels it as the opportunity to wreck you harder, the movement of his hips hitting all the right spots within you, he can feel your leg cramping on his shoulder as a wave of pleasure hits you and he has half a mind to pull out and release himself on your stomach, both of you breathing heavily as the need starts to fade and it all comes to an end. 

You see, if you asked any of Hoseok’s close friends, they would describe him as pure sunshine, and he was, kinda, at least for the most part of his life, but he was also a man determined to get what he wanted in life, which was why, he was currently pondering his next move. After your little session at your living room floor/couch, he had felt a shift in the air, a longing between the two of you, and that only went on for the next few weeks as you would drop your cold facade and text him small things, as he kept on receiving packages at his dorm (without Tae or Joon knowing, thank fuck) and he had found himself thinking about you non-stop. It was pretty obvious, and if someone had known about your existence, they might have pointed it out, cause it was so obvious even for himself, that the tug and pull game of yours, had made you both fall for the other somehow. Which really, wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t for that shitty paragraph on your contract that seems to keep replaying itself inside his mind. If you started becoming too familiar with each other, you would revoke the contract. He had agreed and signed it, thinking that it is just too weird for someone to grow acostumed to another if they just fuck and leave afterwards, but apparently somewhere he went wrong. And he clearly needed the money. You had yet to come to realise your newly found dynamics so he was living on borrowed time. And he had to act quickly.

Hoseok wasn’t really a strategic man, but luck always seemed to be on his side, so it took a mere week to come up with something. He had been visiting the hospital where his sister worked (per his mother’s request) just hanging out, which probably wasn’t even allowed to, but Jiwoo had insisted to wait for her lunch break as it was a slow day anyway. So he did.

“You’ve never told me how you paid off your tuition without dad’s help, Hobi” his sister commented as she went through some papers on her desk. His mind crashed. Error 404. Flee the country. It is one thing lying to his friends about his way of living, a completely different story when family starts asking.

“Oh I’m a- personal assistant of some CEO” he answered, turning to look the other way towards the entrance, almost nonchalantly, but life liked to have fun with him, so of course just as he is trying his best to keep you out of his mind, you had to be walking right through the door, not as outstanding as he is used to see you, but the aura you exude that is so uniquely yours is unable to miss out. You two didn’t talk on personal life, but he had researched you over the months, trying (and failing) to gain some type of useless power over you. It seemed like whatever wasn’t business, wasn’t you. So he had to play dumb.

“Who 's that?” he asked his sister, just as you were rounding the corner, Jiwoo turning to look at your disappearing figure

“Oh, that’s Y/N”

“Y/N like Y/N Y/L/N? the CEO?” the idea of maybe getting into acting and winning an Oscar crossed his mind, his sister hummed in thought

“I guess, Y/N is quite an unusual name right?” she resumed whatever she was doing before adding “But this girl couldn’t be her, she comes to visit her sister religiously every Friday”

“Is she sick?” so your cold uncaring demeanor was really just a front you put up for people.

“You’re starting to sound like a pervert, Hoseok”

He really wishes he could say he dropped the whole sick sister thing after that day, but the longer he thought about that, the cleared it was for him that if he was looking for an upper hand for you not to drop him out of the whole money deal once you realised you had both infringed the contract that brought you two together, this was it. He had immense self-confidence, if he said so himself. But there was something about going against you that wasn’t exactly easy to warm up to. He tried several times to come up with a plan but came empty-handed so he guessed he would just have to go with the flow. 

“You’re so wet already” he grunted as you felt his member teasing your entrance, his hand gripping your hair to bring you to face the mirror beside your bed. Hoseok had decided to drop by after he knew you were done with work, taking you by surprise at the unscheduled session, but then again, who were you to complain about the man, who in less than five minutes and some lazy kissing on your bed had both of you riled up and on all fours at his complete mercy “We’ve got some things to talk about, Y/N” 

You tried to turn your face to look at him directly instead of the mirror but he just tightened his grip as he thrusted forward forcefully, making you grip your sheets tighter attempting not to tumble over, a pleasurable sting on your scalp “I’m listening”

“Friday. Lunchtime, what exactly were you doing at the hospital?” he asked and could already feel your though exterior crumble, he just had to hope that whatever big secret it was having a sick little sister was enough for him to keep the upper hand in the situation.

Just as fast as that surprised look had appeared on your face, it was replaced with determination in your eyes as you pressed yourself back onto him, purposely clenching around him in the way you knew drove him crazy “Maybe I’ll talk. If you fuck me hard enough”

So he did.

“So what do you want in exchange for keeping my Friday’s whereabouts a secret?” you asked as his clothes were thrown at him

This was it. “I want my full tuition paid off before you call it quits on us”

You turned to look at him, laughing a little “Hoseok, a human vulnerability doesn’t mean that I am weak” you made your way to the bathroom “You’ll have to work harder for it”

Each day that went by was filled with dread of having his whole lifestyle crumbling down in a second, it had been so long since he had even so much as heard about you. Until he wouldn’t stop hearing about you (kind of) He remembers waking up to a 5am text from you telling him that he couldn’t have peace without a war, but if he was being completely honest, he was kind of asleep at the time so he couldn’t comprehend half of it. But it all became clearer when his phone started blowing up with texts, from Taehyung and Namjoon, to his sister and his parents. Apparently, you had a very expensive shopping spree in his name, delivered especially with lots of love to every person that could, and most certainly would question how exactly he had the kind of money to afford the luxurious gifts that they were all receiving. 

From:Y/N [9:02]

You start at 10. 

To: Y/N [9:02]

Y/N What’s going on?

From: Y/N [9:05]

Welcome to the team, board member Jung Hoseok.

So perhaps you would always have the upper hand when it came to power and control of whatever it was you two were playing. You had no doubt and no obstacle to ruin his whole life. But he guesses that his upper hand is shown in the fact that he could keep you from doing just that.

[neptunetheplanet7]

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ON THE TAG LIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, cheating

italics means flashback/memory recall

listen to the music masterlist

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quick message! unlike on my wattpad, i’m not doing a character introduction chapter on here. so heads up for he/they armin and she/they sasha!! those are just my personal headcanons i included into the story :) also, i wrote this a LONG time ago. i posted this on my wattpad on 2/24/21. i apologize in advance for any errors. i do plan to re-edit a lot of things regarding this fic in the future.

"She's coming back tomorrow," Jean said casually while pouring himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. You choked on your breakfast. Armin took a worried glance at your coughing form from across the table.

"Sorry." You hacked.

"Mikasa is?" Eren peeked his head through the bathroom doorway as he looked away from the mirror.

"Yeah, I'm going to pick her up from the airport tomorrow night." Jean put down the pot of coffee and took a sip from his hot mug.

"Why so sudden?" Armin put down his book on the table in front of his plate.

"She spoke to me about it briefly. said there was something she needed to do when she got here. I'm just as shocked as you are. I didn't think she'd be back any time soon" Jean brushed the crumbs off his hands and put his plate in the sink.

"How can you all be so calm about this? Did you hear him? Mikasa is coming home tomorrow. She left nearly two years ago! She's finally coming back and none of you are freaking out? She didn't even say why exactly she was coming back." You stood up and threw your hands in the air. Suddenly you lost your appetite. 

"No need to get all bent out of shape, Y/n. You act like we haven't seen her in ten years." Eren said with a hair tie in his mouth as he grew impatient with his long and tangled mess of hair.

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously, but she left for a reason. Even when she gets here, will she still want to play with us? Her absence from the band has taken a toll on everyone, and our audience was less than pleased when she announced her vacation, or rather when I announced her vacation." You start pacing in the living room.

Armin's eyes followed you as you moved. "I hope she does, but it's unlikely. I recall her saying she never wanted to see Jean again. I doubt she'll want to play with him here." He theorized.

"Well, she did call me to say she was coming back so I don't think she's still very upset with me." Jean finished off his coffee and tucked his hair behind his ears. "It happened two years ago, after all."

"I hope she's doing better. It's not like we've heard much from her since she left. I have to clean this house! Oh god, it's a mess! You boys are pigs." You said frantically.

Eren snickered. "Well, it looks like you haven't gotten over your little crush."

"Shut it, Jaeger. I'm doing fine and, frankly, that's none of your business." Still pacing, you held your stomach as the nervous feeling grew.

"Yeah, it sure looks like you're fine." His lips pulled into a grin as he rolled his eyes.

"I think I'm going to faint."

"Do you need to lie down? You look a bit pale." Armin stood up and came to my side.

"I think I'll take a nap."

"You just woke up, smarty. Going back to bed already?" Jean chuckled. "I'm going to Marco's place. See you losers later."

A chorus of 'bye, Jeans' sounded throughout the room when he left through the garage door.

"Y/n, were you serious about cleaning the house? Because I have to go and I really don't want to clean so-"

"Yeah, Eren. You can leave, I don't care."

"You're the best! Thank you!" Eren chirped and practically skipped through the door.

"I have nowhere to be. So I guess I'll stick with you here." Armin smiled. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I'll be fine, thanks. Just nervous is all." You wrung your hands and blinked several times.

"Okay, I'll be in the office if you need anything." Armin patted your shoulder and left you alone in the large living room.

You quickly got to cleaning the house in a nervous frenzy, deep in thought. Mikasa had left one night almost two years ago after a heated situation between her and Jean that ultimately resulted in their breakup and Mikasa leaving the band with only a painful note left behind.

Apparently, there was more to the breakup than you knew, but Jean kept what we didn't hear to himself for Mikasa's sake. Essentially, Mikasa caught Jean and Marco together at a party Eren threw for his nineteenth birthday. You were with her when she saw them.

You and Mikasa were having a silly conversation in the long hallway in front of the dining room. Mikasa stopped looking at you and started focusing on something behind you. her small smile dropped. "and that's why I never- hey Mikasa? You okay? What are you looking at?" You stopped telling your story and became more concerned for your friend.

Confused, you turned around. You gasped loudly. "Oh Mikasa, I'm so sorry." You reached a hand out to her but she left the hall quickly. "Don't worry about it, Y/n. It's not a big deal."  You watched her speedwalk up the stairs with her hand covering her mouth. 

You confronted Jean calmly, not wanting to disturb the party, despite being furious. "Hey, Jean. the world can see you, dickbag. And so did your girlfriend. Have fun explaining this to her. She went upstairs. Find her yourself. If you even care enough to do so."  You spat and darted away from them.

"Wait, Y/n!" Jean pushed past people as you swiftly made your way through the crowd in an attempt to find Eren. Normally, you'd look for Armin, but he was out of town for the night. You got to the kitchen and desperately glanced around. Jean took hold of your arm before you could get any farther. He turned you to face him and took note of your angry expression. "I'm sorry. let me explain."

You shoved him away from you. "Don't apologize to me. Don't explain anything to me. Tell it to your girlfriend. I'm finding Eren and ending this shitty party early. Frankly, Jean, I don't care what excuse you have." You kicked off your heels in a random spot and continued the search for your friend. Jean tried to follow you at first but gave up.

You pushed through crowds looking everywhere for Eren. "Where is he? Eren I need you," You muttered. You caught a glimpse of dark hair being pulled out of an updo. You took a sharp turn and bumped into someone. You fell backward on the floor and rubbed your side that you fell on. "Ouch."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going!"  A girl with multiple party foods in her arms shouted apologetically. She hastily set down her collection and helped you up. I took a quick look around the room, Eren wasn't there. The brunette in front of me tilted her head. "Are you looking for someone? I can help you find them to make up for bumping into you. Hey, you're really pretty. Are you the guitarist from that band? Wait, so you live here? Oh no, I bumped into someone famous! Connie and Niccolo are gonna freak out when I tell them! I'm Sasha by the way. Your name is Y/n right?" 

Taken aback by her rambling, and the fact that she recognized you, you stuttered for a bit before gaining your composure. "Yeah, I'm looking for a friend, actually. And that's me. I live here."

Sasha grinned. "Cool! Who are you looking for? I might know them." She linked her arm through yours and pulled you to the outside deck.

"I'm looking for Eren. Uh- Jaeger. My friend Eren Jaeger. I need to find him."  Your voice sounded shaky.

"Me and him were partners in Professor Hange's science class back in high school! He invited me since we go way back." She opened the door and stepped outside. "Hey Y/n, you sound upset. Did something happen?" She unhooked your arm from hers and put her hands on your shoulders with a concerned stare. You were on the brink of tears and didn't want to cry in front of a stranger, but when you heard the caution in her tone you couldn't help but let some tears escape.

"Hey! Hey, hey Y/n, don't cry now. We'll find Eren." She pulled you in for a hug and you slowly accepted it. You weren't even the one who got cheated on yet you were the one crying. You were worried about the band. You were worried about the fight Eren and Jean were sure to get in. You were worried about what Armin would think. But most importantly, you were worried about Mikasa.

The thought of her locking herself in a room upstairs alone after what happened was enough to make you feel sick. You had to find Eren and end the party. You had to keep him calm once he found out. A part of you had always hoped they would break up, and you always felt extremely guilty about it, but you never hoped  it would end in a way that hurt them both. 

You quietly sobbed into sasha's clothed shoulder, definitely staining her frilly dress. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now." You stepped away and wiped your eyes several times. 

"No, don't apologize. You don't have to tell me what happened, either. Let's go find Eren, yeah?" She gently took my face in her hands and wiped away at my tears. She hooked her arm through mine again as we continued our search for Eren. 

We finally found him after looking for a good fifteen minutes. He was sitting alone on the front porch with a beer in hand, his hair a ragged mess. He took a swig of it and scowled at the taste. Sasha nodded to you and left you alone with him. You opened the glass door and stood awkwardly behind him.

"Hey, Eren."

"The party's inside." He said bitterly.

"I know." You sat down next him and smoothed out your dress in the process. "What are you doing out here at your own party? I've been looking for you everywhere."

He sighed. "I heard what happened. with Jean and Mikasa. He went looking for her so I assume he's found her, that was thirty minutes ago, give or take. I needed a break and came out here." 

You let your head slump on his shoulder. He let out another long sigh. "I saw it happen. She ran upstairs so I came looking for you. I figured once I told you, you could end the party. That sounds ridiculous now, considering how many people came." You let out a dry laugh and felt him laugh along with you. His head rested on top of yours and he placed a gentle kiss on it.

"What are we gonna do now, Y/n? There’s no chance this'll go over well. The band could be ruined.” He paused and sighed. “I bet Armin would know what to do right about now."

"I bet he would." You took Eren's hand in yours. "I don't even want to think about what could happen."

"Neither do I. Do you want to stay out here a little while longer? We can go back in later." Eren offered.

"Yeah. That sounds nice." 

posted: 8/23/21

neptunetheplanet7© 2021

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

[quickspinner]

Month of Miracles Day 5 - Decoration

Find the prompt list here!

I have meddled with powers I did not fully understand and now the Hallmark AU has gripped me. I think you can expect to see more of this sprinkled throughout the month. Oh, well. Multiparters in prompt months are like a tradition for me now, right? 

Hallmark Movie AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9  | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 (end) | Read Month of Miracles on AO3

Imagine, Marinette thought as she helped Rose unpack the decorations and ornaments to go on the tree, Luke Stone in a town like this. 

Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t heard of him releasing anything new recently. So he was from this town, then? He must be on vacation, visiting his family and helping out at the farm. Taking a break, maybe writing some new songs. Funny, to think of the glammed up, heavily bedazzled rock star wearing flannel and working on a Christmas tree farm.

Marinette had winced the day before, watching him tear up his palms hauling the tree she’d picked out yesterday and tie it down deftly with fingers that had to be worth millions of dollars. It pained her to think of the hands that had created such beautiful music being abused in such a way. Surely he should have been wearing gloves, at least. He’d been so cold to her, though, that Marinette hadn’t dared suggest it or question him.

She’d been skeptical when Jagged Stone’s son had made his debut on tour alongside his father. She’d been a longtime fan of the older Stone and didn’t think even his own flesh and blood would be able to match him—but the younger Stone hadn’t tried. Luke’s music was clearly influenced by his father, but was also entirely his own, but so evocative, so emotional, she had been pulled in despite her reservations. She owned every one of Luke Stone’s albums, including the special edition greatest hits album, which she had bought even as she complained to Alya that he was too young in his career to be releasing a greatest hits album.

Marinette hadn’t said much to Rose about the encounter, not sure whether it was common knowledge amongst the town that he was here, and not wanting to infringe on his privacy if it wasn’t. Rose had given her a funny (disappointed?) look when she mentioned the grumpy young man that had helped her, but hadn’t said anything about it, just asked Marinette to come back today and give her a hand decorating the tree after the maintenance staff got it set up.

It wasn’t as if Marinette had much else to do, and Gina’s house felt huge and empty with just her in it, so she’d agreed, and here she was unpacking dusty boxes that had been hauled out of storage. She sighed as she surveyed the contents. The boxes looked like they’d been packed up by unsupervised five-year-olds last year. 

She was sorting the decorations into piles, still absently pondering the mystery of Luke Stone, when the library doors slid open, and the man himself walked in. He was dressed much the same as he had been yesterday, in layers that hid the muscular shoulders and arms he displayed on stage. Before Marinette could react, Rose flitted past her. 

“Luka!” Rose squealed, throwing herself at him. “You’re here!” Luka staggered slightly but wrapped one arm around her waist to catch her, holding her with her feet dangling off the ground as she kissed both his cheeks, her arms wrapped around his neck. Marinette stared, mouth hanging open slightly.

“That was enthusiastic,” Luka laughed, looking down at the petite blond hanging off of his tall frame. 

“I’m happy to see you!” Rose smiled brightly. 

“You just saw me at dinner last night.” Luka bent his knees and set her on the ground. Rose took the hint and let him go, but bounced on the balls of her feet. “And I told you I’d come, he added.”

“And now you’re here!” Rose threw out her arms. “I’m so glad! I have so much to do to get the childrens’ program ready and the decorations are so much for poor Marinette to manage by herself! Have you met Marinette?” she inquired, turning and holding out her arms to present her friend. Marinette closed her mouth and tried to smile as she gave a little wave. “I think you did,” Rose continued, turning to give him a warning look. “I think she said she ran into you at the farm.” 

Luka felt embarrassment creeping up his neck at Rose’s clearly scolding look. He nodded at Marinette. “Briefly, yeah. Nice to see you, Marinette.” He pronounced her name carefully, feeling bad about teasing her yesterday. She smiled a little more, and then looked down, her hands fluttering around the decorations she’d been separating. 

“You can get the lights on the tree while Marinette finishes working out that stuff,” Rose suggested, pointing to a pile of lights sitting near Marinette. “You’re nice and tall, so that should make things easy. There’s step stools in the kids’ area if you need them. Come here and I’ll show you what I want.” She hooked his arm and pulled him around to the far side of the tree. “The plug’s over here, so you’ll need to start on this side.” 

As soon as they were out of sight, Rose slapped his arm. “Dummy!” she scolded in a whisper. “I didn’t send her to the farm so you could be mean.”

“I wasn’t mean,” Luka protested weakly, and then frowned. “What do you mean, you sent her?” He gave his not-quite-sister a suspicious look, and then leaned slightly to look around the tree and make sure they were out of earshot. 

He paused. Marinette had been cute yesterday in her puffy pink coat and earmuffs, but he hadn’t really had time to notice her. Now she looked trendy but comfortable in pigtails and a soft pink sweater over skinny jeans, her profile turned to him. She was an authentic kind of pretty, he reflected, but then Luka had found himself thinking that about a lot of people since he’d left the rock star world, where everybody wore layers of stage makeup, styled and coiffed and dressed so that every detail about them enhanced the image they wanted to project. 

Still, her full lips made a pretty bow, especially when she pouted them slightly in concentration, and her hair had a shine that came from health rather than product, and her eyes were—

Rose’s elbow in his ribs jolted him out of what must have been a pretty intense stare, and he flushed, leaning back slightly so he couldn’t see Marinette on the other side of the tree.

“She already thinks you’re mean,” Rose hissed. “Don’t be a creep on top of it.”

Luka winced. He didn’t need Rose’s reminder to feel guilty for behaving so abruptly yesterday. Already prickly from a morning of needling by his mother, he hadn’t been prepared for anyone to recognize him. No one had up until this point, and he’d thought he was safe. It was an unpleasant shock to have a stranger recognize him, especially someone from the city who might carry word of his presence here back to the press. His mother’s call had sounded like his guardian angel’s trumpet in that moment. When Juleka had called him to help tie her chosen tree on top of her car, he’d done the work quickly and silently, and avoided her gaze as much as possible. 

He’d felt bad about it later, when he’d had time to relax and reflect, but he hadn’t expected to see her again—certainly hadn’t expected to have Rose practically throwing her at him. He gave her a warning look. 

Rose opened her mouth but before she could say anything, Marinette popped around the side of the tree. “Rose, do you have some scissors anywhere?”

“Yes, in the cabinet behind the desk,” Rose said, pointing. “Probably on the top three shelves, there’s a box of craft supplies there. You might as well bring over the whole thing in case you need anything else. Let me know if it’s too high up and I’ll send Luka to grab them instead.”

“Got it,” Marinette smiled, and turned to follow Rose’s directions. 

Luka shot Rose a glare. “Quit it,” he warned. 

“Quit what?” Rose inquired, with a blink and head tilt that made her look like she didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. 

Luka knew better. 

“I don’t need any help, Rose,” Luka muttered, folding his arms. “I could find a relationship on my own if I wanted to.” 

“Mmhm,” Rose hummed in a disbelieving tone. “Because there’s so many to choose from here in this little town.” 

Luka rolled his eyes and didn’t reply. 

“I do like Marinette though,” Rose said, and smiled innocently when Luka gave her a look. “She’s really sweet. We only met a couple of days ago and here she is, bending over backward to get me a real tree and spending her time decorating it.”

“You set her up,” Luka accused, peeking around the tree briefly to make sure she wasn’t coming back yet.  “You’re trying to set me up.”

“She’s so creative,” Rose sighed. “She showed me some of her portfolio the other day, and it’s fantastic. She’s a fashion designer, you see.” 

Luka snorted. “Oh, yeah, she’ll totally fall for me. Without my stylist I’m a fashion disaster and you know it Rose.” 

“That just makes you a challenge,” Rose chirped, and then softened a little as she looked at him. “Look, I know you’re not looking right now, but that’s a stupid attitude to have when an amazing person just drops into your lap.” She tossed her head in a move he was sure she’d picked up from Juleka, though it was less effective without Juleka’s mane to accent it. “I should know. Anyway, do what you want, I just think she’s neat and I wanted you to meet her. I’ve got a good feeling about her. If I’d met her two years ago I’d totally steal her from you. If you’re smart, you’ll keep an open mind.” 

Luka sighed, but he saw a flicker of pink and when he glanced around the tree again, Marinette was back, the box of supplies at her side. She was lifting a large tinsel garland from the box she’d just opened, only to find it was all a tangled mass. There was a sort of mournful look on her face, a little droop of sadness, maybe even loneliness, to her shoulders. He remembered the tightness in her eyes and around her mouth yesterday, and the way she’d spilled out her reason for being here at the slightest nudge. A fashion designer—that was a cutthroat business, especially in the city. Poor thing was probably as tired and strung out as he’d been when he came home.  

He wasn’t even aware he’d sighed until Rose giggled at his elbow. “I think you can figure the lights out on your own,” she said with a little pat to his arm. “I’m going to get back to getting ready for the children’s program. You two just...have fun, okay? Make it festive!” She fluttered her hands at the tree, then waved at Marinette and abandoned him to the awkwardness. 

It didn’t take long to get the lights on the tree—Luka had plenty of practice after getting the farm set up for the season. He stood there for a moment, hesitating. He glanced at Marinette. She had finished the sorting and was back to struggling with the tangled garland, and the look of utter defeat on her face...hurt, somehow.  

“Can I give you a hand?” Luka found himself offering. 

Marinette started slightly, and in an instant her shoulders went back and her smile flashed back into being. Luka was surprised to realize that it didn’t feel fake, despite the fact that he had seen her feelings on her face just a moment before. She was hiding those feelings now, but the smile she offered him was as sincere as the sadness. 

“Um, sure, if you want to,” she said, holding up the garland in two hands. “It’s pretty twisted up. We could just leave it, but...might as well give it a shot, right?” 

Luka took a handful of garland, and Marinette took another one farther down. They moved apart, spreading it out as far as it could go between them to try and see where it twisted back on itself. 

“This looks like the end,” Marinette muttered, plucking at a piece. “Can you just hold it up for a minute?”

Luka did, watching Marinette as she looped the end she’d found back over and under and through the glittering mass. The silence was awkward, and the more Luka tried to think of something to say, the more he felt like there was only one thing he could say. 

“Listen, I wanted to apologize—” he began as Marinette said, “Luka, I’m really sorry—” 

They both stopped, and laughed, and Luka gestured for her to go ahead. 

“I just,” Marinette pushed her hair back and glanced at him, then looked away. “I wanted to apologize for blurting that out about—you know—I should have thought, I should have realized you wouldn’t want to be approached like that, while you’re clearly not working—well, you were working, but not, not like that and I should have—well. I’m really sorry. You’re at home and you probably don’t want people gushing all over you while you’re trying to spend time with your family.”

Luka took a breath, looking at the floor for a moment. “I wanted to apologize too, for being so abrupt with you. I...hadn’t had the best morning, and you did startle me. I’m...well, I guess you could maybe say I’m retired, and I’d rather not be...known, here. I guess I kind of panicked.”

“Retired?” Marinette looked up at him in surprise. “But your music was so good! I mean—” She flushed, and grabbed the garland, moving to start draping it around the tree. “I really liked it, anyway. Sorry, I know it’s not my business...Anyway, I understand, and I won’t tell anyone I met you here.” The garland she was trying to place slipped off, and she sighed in frustration. “I swear Christmas hates me,” she muttered to herself.

Luka picked up the trailing end and held it so that the weight was no longer dragging. “Thank you. I really appreciate that.” 

“Of course,” Marinette smiled, and then she said, “How long have you and Rose been together?” This time the garland stayed where she placed it, with Luka feeding her more as she circled around the tree. 

“Together?” Luka repeated, startled. “We’re not together. She’s dating my sister, actually. In fact if they’re not engaged by New Years I’ll be shocked.” 

Marinette’s head whipped around to look at him. “O-oh. Oh! Oh, I understand now.” She flushed. “Just, before—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Luka grinned. “I can see how that would look if you didn’t know.”  

“Wow, how off base was I, though,” Marinette giggled. “So your family’s from around here? I—oh, that sounded nosy didn’t it, I’m sorry, I swear I’m just trying to make small talk.”

“I’m not offended,” Luka chuckled. “Actually my family just moved here a few years ago. When my mom bought the tree farm I thought it was just another one of her crazy whims and she’d move on to something else before long, but she seems really happy here. What about your grandma? Gina doesn’t seem like the small town type, either.”

The conversation flowed comfortably from there, as they finished the garland and moved on to the other decorations. Marinette didn’t ask him any more questions about his music, and he carefully steered clear of asking her any questions about why she’d come—or been sent—down to their little town, and faster than Luka could have expected, they were closing up the empty boxes and stacking them to the side to be returned to storage. Marinette had a good eye, Luka had to admit as he looked at the tree. Not surprising, he supposed, but it did look a lot nicer than the previous year’s tree. Not only that, Marinette had arranged the extra decorations on the library desk in a pretty little display, and with his help, had even trimmed the windows with some icicle lights they found at the bottom of one of the boxes. Luka knelt to plug in the last set of lights, and when they were on, the whole library screamed holiday cheer to an almost obnoxious degree.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, Rose appeared behind him. 

“Wow, look at this place, it’s awesome! Everything looks great! You two make a fantastic team!” She grinned at Luka, and he raised his eyebrows at her in warning. “Everything is so festive,” Rose went on, clearly ignoring him, as she laid a thoughtful finger to her lips and examined them, “except for you two. You’re ruining the mood.” 

Faster than Luka could track she whipped something out and stuck it to his forehead, then turned and did the same to Marinette. Only when he saw the bright blue gift bow stuck to Marinette’s forehead did he realize what Rose had just done to them, and he rolled his eyes as he reached up to touch the bow on his own forehead. Rose swatted his hand away and then grabbed his arm, hauling at him until he had no choice but to stand up or fall over.

“There, now you’re properly decorated too,” Rose beamed. “All right, you two have spent all morning helping me, so get out of here and go do something fun! It’s such a pretty day!”

“Rose, it’s freezing,” Luka tried to say, but Rose was already pushing them towards the door, and he gave into the inevitability of it all with a sigh. 

“Go down to the café, have lunch on my tab, both of you,” she ordered, dumping their coats in Luka’s arms before shoving them out of the door. “Thanks for all your help!” she called, waving at them as the doors slid closed.

“Real subtle,” Luka grumbled, reaching up to peel the bow off his forehead as he turned to face Marinette. That was a mistake, because the way her mouth was pursed in a little moue as she worked to remove her own bow was kind of adorable.

Damnit, Rose.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Now Complete

Over the last three months, I have dedicated a huge chunk of my limited free time to writing this piece. What started out as a possible kinktober one-shot was side-tabled as I realized it had potential to be an actual story. Now, twenty chapters and 103,723 words later I am thrilled to say that this installment is complete.

I’ve already begun a second installment of this series which will pick up at the start of John’s retirement. I’m hoping to have the first chapter out within the week.

Thank you so much to everybody who liked, commented, and supported me during this story and a huge thank you to @meetmeinthematinee​ for helping me edit and review this beast.

AO3 Talk Link

Chapter 20 Link

 A new start.

 That was what she had deemed it. For both of them.

 John went around the city. Closing accounts. Transferring mountains of coins into actual money. Saying silent goodbyes to the places that had defined him for a lifetime. And stashing markers, money, and weapons. Just in case.

 He hopes he will never have to use them.

 And, while he does that, Helen packs up her house.

 The decision to move in together came approximately two days after returning from Vermont. They’d wasted enough time, they both decided.      “And,    ” Helen had teased,      “God forbid we decide to spend a night apart, I already know you’ll sneak in to watch me sleep.    ”

 Minx.

     “I’m more than happy to sell my place.”    He had told her.

     “You’ve given up your entire life for me.    ” She had argued, gently running her hand through his hair.      “I’ll give up the house. Besides, if you think I’m giving up your hot tub, you’re fucking dreaming.”  

 And that had been that.

 They’d driven to her house, stopping to pick up boxes and tape and bubble wrap, and started packing up.

         She made some calls around the city, looking for charities to donate some of her furniture to. John’s bed, she had discovered, was far more comfortable than hers. And they didn’t need multiple dining room tables or sets of cookware or dishes.

 John borrowed a truck from Aurelio and, with his and Marcus’ help, started dropping things off across the city.

 In the remaining days of her “recovery”/vacation, they manage to empty most of her little house. And while      their     house (he will never get used to the sheer joy that fills him at that descriptor) is now a mess of boxes and suitcases, it has never felt more like home.

 He laughs at the three boxes of shoes Helen has to unpack, only to have to dodge a high heel used as a projectile.

 He revels in the way she unpacks her sweaters and dresses to hang across from his clothes.

 He also takes a great deal of pleasure when he finds the small box, once hidden away in the back of her closet, containing a number of delightful little toys. He gets another shoe thrown at him as he practically begs for details.

 Helen laughs and offers a private demonstration… once her books are shelved in the library. John scrambles to fulfill her every wish.

 One of the benefits of Helen having her own practice was that she could really do whatever the hell she wanted. She had reached out to all her clients first thing on Monday to apologize for her absence, reporting that she had been the victim in a hit-and-run, leaving her in a coma for the better part of the week. While she was doing much better, she told them, she still needed another week for recovery.

 Of course, the Underworld had bought out half the cops in the city. A quick call from John Wick and shit was being filed      exactly     how he demanded it to be. Doctor’s notes were forged, along with hospital ‘records.’ That part was easy.

 What had been much more complicated, John discovered, was dealing with the missing person’s out on Helen and it throws his world off kilter, yet again.

 Her family had been terrified. While Helen wasn’t exactly in constant contact with them, the police had reached out after a concerned associate of Helen’s reported her missing. Unable to contact her, her parents and sister had been in a frenzy.

 Using the phone that John had paid for, insisting that he buy her a new one since it was his enemy who had destroyed hers, she reluctantly calls her mother.

     “Mom, I am begging you, stay home. I’m fine.”  

     “We’ve been so worried!” John hears her mother sobbing on the other side of the line, “A hit-and-run, oh, sweetheart!”  

 And if      that’s    her mother’s reaction from a hit-and-run, John doesn’t want to know what her mother would do if she ever found out the truth.

 Kidnapped, held hostage, marked for death…

 The poor woman might have a heart attack.

     “You’re still recovering! You need someone to take care of you!”  

     “I have someone taking care of me.”    Helen had said, and at that moment, John had indeed been massaging her shoulders. His lips had twitched in response.

 He was the one taking care of her.

 He would be the one taking care of her forever.

 It made him giddy to think about.

     “Who?”  

They hadn’t discussed labels. It all seemed sort of unnecessary after all they had been through. But when Helen makes the executive decision and says, “my boyfriend” John wonders if he’s the one having a heart attack with the way his own is beating so hard it feels like it might burst at any moment.

 Boyfriend.

 He’d never been a boyfriend before. He’d never had any interest in being a boyfriend before. A term he’d never imagined being applied to him but now that it was…

 He was a boyfriend.

 He was      Helen’s    boyfriend.

 He’s filled with pride and affection and so much love he doesn’t know what to do. She leans into him, reaching up to where his hands have stopped massaging as he attempts to process her words. And because she’s Helen and she knows him better than he knows himself, she squeezes his hand.

 Grounding him.

 But, of course, her confession to her mother opens another avenue of questions.      What boyfriend? How long have you been seeing each other? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?  

 To which Helen answers respectively       his name is John. We met seven months ago. And because who I date and when I decide to share that information is my choice    .

 It’s another half an hour of questioning before Helen manages to talk her way off of the phone after wrangling a promise that her mother would      not     fly to New York. In return, Helen was to send her daily text updates on her health.

 Her sister was another matter. Living only an hour away in Trenton, her sister insisted on driving up. It ended up working well, however. While he had testified without a single problem, John hadn’t had the time to meet with Tarasov.

 So Wednesday, Helen agreed to meet her sister for lunch while John had gone to meet with a mob boss.

 John arrives at Tarasov’s compound and, once again, finds himself subject to stares.

 They had always been there. The Baba Yaga was the focal of fascination for a great many, but most had always tried to hide the attention they paid to the man, the monster. But since Helen’s existence had been made known, he’s found himself front and center everywhere he goes.

 And it had only become worse after being questioned by the High Table on the DeLuca’s and their involvement. While John had repeatedly stated he would not answer questions regarding his relationship with Helen, it didn’t stop the questions from coming.

 During the trial and afterwards, members of the High Table had tried to push. John had given them nothing.

 John is silent as he walks up to Viggo’s office.

 The last tie to sever.

 While Abram was scared enough of John Wick to let him go without a fight, John was certain that Viggo’s ambition would rise to the occasion.

 After all, hadn’t John Wick done the impossible? He had brought down Syndicate and saved the girl with every odd stacked against him.

 And now Viggo wanted a piece of that.

 The impossible.

 And John will do it. Of course, he will do anything if it means being released.

 Retirement is so close he can taste it as he steps into the familiar office, closing the door behind him.

 Viggo Tarasov sits at his desk, setting his paper aside as John takes a seat in front of him.

 “John.” Viggo greets, “I was surprised to hear from you.”

 John inclines his head. Viggo was full of shit.

 Lorenzo had shared with his children that he had released John Wick of his contract following the trial. The rest of the Underworld knew by sundown. John was certain that Viggo was well aware of John’s intentions in this meeting.

 “I’m retiring.” John says, truly not in the mood for games.

 Viggo nods in response to the news, clearly expecting John’s announcement. “Very few people retire from our world.”

 “Because most are dead long before they reach my age.”

 “I’m older than you.”

 “You have a desk job.” John points out, aware that his status is the only reason he can get away with saying such things to Viggo Tarasov.

 Viggo waves a hand vaguely, “You’ve never had interest in a desk job.”

 “Nor do I now. However, I still intend to live a while longer. In peace.”

 “Peace.” Viggo says, testing the word on his tongue, “That must be a foreign concept to a man like you.”

 A year ago, John would have agreed with him.

 Hell, eight months ago, John would have agreed with him.

 And while his experiences were still limited, he already had a glimpse of peace. In the weekly visits he had paid to Helen’s office. In the quiet of the night as he meditated to each and every intake and exhale of breath.

 Now, John knew peace in the moments before his alarm went off and he held Helen close to him. He knew peace in the way she wrapped herself around him as he made her coffee. He knew peace in the way her head rested on his shoulder or in the soft flips of pages as Helen read by his side. He knew peace in the moments where she held him.

 “I’m aware you hold my contract,” John says, ignoring Viggo’s comment. “I am more than willing to buy it out.”

 A longshot, John knew.

 Viggo tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering it. Yet John knows, from that single action, that Viggo already has something in mind. Something he wants done that only John Wick can manage. John just fucking wishes he’d get to the point instead of treating this like a game.

 “At this time, your contract is not for sale.” Viggo says, “However, there is a task I have in mind. A bit… difficult, to say the least. But, should you complete this for me, I would be more than willing to release you from your contract.”

 There it is.

 “What do you have in mind?”

 “It’s a bit of an impossible task…”

 …

 When John arrives home and he’s relieved to find Helen’s car parked out front. He makes a mental note to install a garage opener in her car as soon as possible.

 John quickly goes inside, not wasting any time. The desire to set eyes on her is overwhelming and he wonders how he managed to      only     see her at night for months on end.

 He’s not certain he can ever again go longer than hours without seeing her, touching her.

 Helen has become an addiction.

 When he doesn’t find her in the living room or the kitchen, he goes upstairs. Sure enough, she is in the library, kneeling in front of a bookcase as her fingers trace over the spines.

 “How was lunch?” He asks and Helen’s lips twitch.

 With anyone else, he might have scared them. Even in his own home, he tends to walk lightly so as not to be noticed. But she’s always had that sixth sense about him. It brings him an absurd amount of happiness to know that she understands and sees him.

 “It was fine.” She reaches a hand up. John takes it and helps tug her back to her feet. “Got a bit of the third degree but I suppose I can’t blame her for being curious, all things considered.”

 On tiptoes, she gives him a quick kiss. “How was Tarasov?”

 “As expected,” John says.

 Helen hums as she looks him over, “Indirect answer.”

 “It could be worse.” John tries again.

 “Now you’re being evasive.”

 She had warned him life would be like this. She’s spent the better part of her life learning to read people and despite being an enigma to most of the world, John Wick is an open book to Helen.

 He can’t bring himself to be upset when they both knew this was exactly how it was going to be.

 “He wants me to complete a rather difficult task.”

 “How dangerous is this going to be?” She asks, folding her arms over her stomach.

 She did that when she was worried, John had noticed. He hates that it’s him causing her such stress but comforts himself with the fact that this will be the last time.

 “Fairly.” Helen’s face is that unique mix of impassive and empathetic that he was used to seeing in her office. He steps forward, catching her chin in his hand and drawing up her face. “I’ll be fine.” He promises.

 She gives him a small smile and nods. She’s scared, he knows. And he is too. He’s never had so much to lose.

 “What does he want?”

 He wants to shake his head and tell her not to worry about it. But he knows exactly how that conversation will go if he tries.

 “There are a few rival Russian gangs that Viggo wants control of.”

 “A few?” Her brows shoot up.

 Maybe he should have phrased that better.

 While he’s unsurprised by Viggo’s demands given the opportunity to manipulate the Baba Yaga, Helen worries. She used to joke that it was her job to worry—that he paid her good money for such. And he would smile and promise to see her next week.

 But things had changed so much since DeLuca.

 She understood a little bit more just what John was capable of. In the moments when she had been in DeLuca’s grasp,      John     had learned a bit more of what he was capable of.

 But in understanding that, she grew more worried. When it came to her, they both knew that he was capable of      anything    .

 And that made him reckless, to a degree.

     “It goes both ways, John.”     She told him when he had first explained what it would take to actually retire, what he might need to do to be released by the Tarasov’s.      “You worry about me constantly, but I worry about you too. Do you really think I would be okay if something happened to you?”  

     “You could move on.”    He had replied,      “I know you would hurt, but you could go on living your life.”  

     “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re an idiot, John. I would be    devastated       if something happened to you, if I lost you.”  

     “It’s different.”  

     “Like hell it is. Do you know how many nights I used to lie awake until you would get to my house because I was so paranoid, so scared that something would happen to you?”    Helen had shaken her head,      “Or that I used to spend my Friday’s in an anxious blur, terrified that one day you just weren’t going to show up. That you’d just… be gone.”  

     “It’s different.    ” John had maintained, “      Hels, you’re—you’re all I have.”  

 And that was just a fact. Without him, Helen would have her family, her friends, her work.

 But without her… what would he be?

 “It will be fine.” He promises, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair back from where it had fallen in her face. It assures him that she is real and safe when his thoughts start to overwhelm him, “This is more of a point-and-shoot kind of gig. Just with a lot of moving targets.”

 An impossible number of moving targets. He forgoes saying as much, still trying to formulate a plan in his mind on how he’s going to pull this off.

 “Is there a timeline?”

 Technically, no. Viggo hadn’t given him any sort of indication of when he wanted it completed, but John was strongly in favor of doing it as quickly as possible. The sooner the task was completed, the sooner he was free.

  And, oh, what a thought that was.

 “Friday.” He answers aloud. Two days away. It would give him the time to prepare, because once he started, he could not stop until he was done.

 She nods, leaning her head against his hand.

 He hates that he is responsible for making her worry. John pulls her into a hug, wrapping her in his arms securely.

 “Come on,” he kisses the top of her head, “Let’s go pack some more of your books to bring over.”

 She brightens visibly at that and they make another trip to her house.

 While Helen desperately needs the distraction, John realizes it’s just as beneficial for him. It reassures him, just as her touch does, that she’s real. That this is actually happening and not just some coma dream, which he felt might be more realistic.

 They spend Thursday much the same way. While he’s tried to tempt Helen to take another week of vacation, she only shakes her head and says,      “It wouldn’t be fair to my clients    .”

 Marcus comes over to help.

 “Helen, if he’s blackmailing you into moving in with him, I can get you help. Blink once.”

 The older assassin dodges multiple projectiles from multiple directions, laughing all the while.

 “I’m serious! You can do better!”

 It’s a joke, and John      knows     that, but he still appreciates the extra affection she shows him. Like she knows that John still lays awake at night, wondering if he was good enough for her. But she slips under his arm, resting against his chest while she shoots back, “Forgive me for not taking advice from a man who’s still in a committed relationship with his daddy issues.”

 He makes a sound of pain even as he grins, “Low blow, Kingston.”

 “Come at my man, I’ll come for your life.”

     My man     echoes around in John’s head for hours after that and Marcus’ teasing was soon forgotten.

 After that declaration, his hands, which were impossibly steady when aiming a gun or striking a blow, were shaky. He had to talk himself through wrapping up her décor so as not to break it.

 They loaded up the borrowed truck, driven by Marcus, as well as stuffing her SUV full.

 “Hope you don’t change your mind about him, because I am      not     doing this again.” Marcus complains after he and John manage to get her loveseat into the back of the pickup.

 “I’m not concerned.” She says and the conviction in her words and her tone leaves John all the more in love with her.

     Good    , he thinks. He is no longer strong enough to let her go.

 John watches with fascination and awe as he hears a dog bark and watches as her eyes light up. An older man approaches with a golden retriever pulling on its leash trying to reach Helen. He recognizes the dog from the neighborhood, having seen it be taken outside late at night from a few houses over.

 The dog breaks free of the owner, tearing the leash from his hand, bolting towards Helen.

 Grinning, Helen drops down low and braces for the contact. “Hey, Buddy.” She says, scratching the pup behind the ears as the dog pants excitedly.

 “Sorry, Helen!”

 “No worries,” She calls back to the owner, “You know I’m always down for a Buddy-snuggle.”

 Marcus snorts and mutters to John, “How easily you can be replaced.”

 John rolls his eyes, smiling all the while as she coos to the dog lovingly. He thinks back to the first time she met, showing him pictures of her favorite dogs. He had been almost surprised that she didn’t have one of her own.

 With a final pet to the stop of Buddy’s head, she sends him back over to the owner with a wave, before climbing back to her feet.

 A part of him was reluctant to share her but he could imagine, maybe somewhere down the line, getting a dog with Helen. He thinks she would like that, the potential images flipping through his head and filling him with an unexpected warmth.

 “Should have guessed you were a dog person,” Marcus says.

 “Always have been.” She replies, slipping back under John’s arms. Even with moving furniture and boxes, it’s still cold outside. He tucks his chin to her head and wraps his arms around her.

 “Makes sense given your choice in partner.”

 She throws Marcus a look, but he holds up his hands defensively.

 “Not like that! No need to bring my daddy issues into this. Just meant he’s got some of those qualities. Unwavering loyalty, literally the definition of a dog with a bone when it comes to you. Protective, but a little bit stupid.”

 “Thanks, Marcus.” John says, rolling his eyes yet again.

 “I prefer dogs to people, anyway.” Helen says, patting his arm. “Far less complicated. They don’t make muddles out of things the way we do. And they’re far less self-interested.”

 “All this, coming from the only one of us who works with humans for a living.”

 She grins at that, “It’s why I can say, without a doubt, that dogs are better than people.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be hyper-empathic to the human experience?”

 “I can be. And there is a lot about said human experience that I admire,” Helen says, “We’re an incredibly resilient species. The mind can handle just about anything, which is remarkable when you think about it. And we’ve worked to build societies based on mutual respect and social currency. There’s drama and endless uphill battles, struggles and triumphs, and a capacity for healing unseen in any other creatures,” She shrugs, “But there’s something to be said for just      living    . Simply, at that.”

 He feels his arms tightening around her as he presses a kiss to her head.

 He loves her more than he’ll ever be able to express. Helen leans to the side so her face is just below his and kisses him once more.

 “I’m going to finish with my room.” She tells him and slips out of his arms. He watches as she walks back into the house.

 She’s giving it up for him. Her home, her space.

 It’s still so surreal.

 “She’s incredible.” Marcus says softly.

 “I don’t deserve her.”

 “No, you don’t.” His friend smiles, “Luckily, she loves you anyway.”

 It was strange to think that they had only declared their love for each other a week ago. A single week of verbally and physically expressing their love for one another.

 It simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all.

 John heads back into the house, following her path to her bedroom. Her clothes and jewelry had already been packed but her furniture, along with a handful of other things, was left behind. She had washed her sheets earlier and was packing them in a box marked      donations    .

 He takes one end of the sheet and helps her start to fold the next.

 The question pours from him before he can even think about it.

 “Would you like a dog?” John asks, “You know, someday?”

 She steps forward, collecting the sheet, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Would      you    want a dog?”

 John shrugs, truly uncaring. “I like dogs.”

 “But there’s a difference between liking dogs and wanting a dog. Would you actually want to have a pet? In your perfectly kept, immaculate house?”

 He feels like he shouldn’t say      I want whatever you want     because he doesn’t want to burden her with all the decisions, but truthfully, the only thing in life he wants is to make her happy. The little details don’t matter to him so much as giving her the opportunity to smile.

 “I wouldn’t mind either way,” he says as she folds it one last time and places it in the box with the others, “And the house is immaculate because I barely spend time there.”

 She considers it for a moment, and he feels his heart flutter with the twitch of her lips. “Yeah. Someday. Maybe we adopt an older dog. I’ve always had a soft spot for the rejects.”

 “Makes sense.” John teases and she rolls her eyes.

 “I swear, John Wick, if you make another orphan joke…”

 He grins, stepping into her space. He catches her face in his hands and draws her in for a kiss.

 Her soft lips yield to him and he will never understand what he has done to deserve such grace. But he swears to himself that he will never take for granted her presence or her touch or her love.

 This is happiness. It’s also only the beginning.

 …

 Friday comes, as it must.

 John had wondered if he would feel nervous or anxious for his final mission, his last task. Instead, he wakes up feeling eerily calm.

 He’s never been so grateful for something to end. But then, he’s never had a beginning to look forward to.

 Helen, he finds, is far more nervous than he is.

 “Should you be resting?” She asks as he takes down some of his own books so he can move the shelves around. He wouldn’t be leaving until sunset, much preferring to use the cover of darkness to hide his presence.

 “I’ll be fine.” He assures her. He’s gone on countless missions without sleeping or after only getting a few hours here and there to keep him going. Truthfully, having slept a full eight hours the night before is more than he usually gets.

 But he knows it’s not enough to stop her from worrying so John distracts her. First with planning out their new library. When that didn’t hold her attention enough, he switched to distracting her with his body.

 A sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

 He fucked her in the library before carrying her to the bedroom to take her again. And Helen was insatiable, much to his delight. But fucking her to the point of exhaustion took far more out of him than he anticipated.

 By the time she’s finally too tired to carry on, John finds himself closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

 Her fingers trace the back of his neck as she whispers, “Gotcha.”

 She really is brilliant, he thinks, as John finds himself manipulated into napping.

 He wakes up feeling far more rested and newly motivated to go out and come back home. To never be forced to leave her side again, so long as they both lived.

 It’s all so close.

 Helen runs her hand over his hair.

 “Thank you for making me sleep.” He teases softly.

 “I don’t know what you mean.”

 “Liar.”

 Helen grins at that, leaning forward to kiss him.

     This    , he thinks, this is what waits for him on the other side of the night.

 It motivates him anew.

 John showers and dresses. His traditional three-piece, he hopes to never wear again. For her sake, he leaves the tie on the bureau.

 John slips a small gun into his ankle holster, a knife into his sock. He chooses his weapons carefully as he prepares for the night ahead of him.

 One last time.

 Leaving is so very different than it had always been. Rather than heading straight from his room to his car, he detours to find his partner. To see her, to kiss her before he goes.

 He can hear conversation flowing from the kitchen as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and blinks in surprise.

 Marcus.

 He slips into the kitchen and watches as Helen rummages around in the fridge before pulling out and handing Marcus a beer.

 Marcus, he thinks, is probably the person he would miss the most. One of his oldest friends. One of the first people he ever learned to trust.

 Someone he would soon have to say goodbye to, along with everyone else.

 A large brown paper bag sits in front of him on the kitchen counter.

 “Marcus.” John greets as he steps into the kitchen.

 “John.” Marcus uses the edge of the counter to pry the bottle cap off. “Everything in place?”

 John nods. He had weapons stored around the city and Santino would be assisting. John had been reluctant to make a deal with the mafioso when he was so close to retirement but there were too many moving parts for what Tarasov had asked for John to accomplish it alone.

 Santino swore, so long as John stayed out of the Underworld, he would not use the marker John had promised him. But, should he ever step foot back, he was fair game.

 He almost felt bad for Santino. He would never go back to that life. Not while he had Helen.

 “Didn’t know you were coming over.” John comments, watching as Helen opens a bottle of wine for herself.

 “Somebody’s got to keep your girl from losing her mind.”

 “It’s an important job.” Helen jokes, smiling up at John. “I was afraid I was going to go stir-crazy waiting here at home.”

 He can understand that. He had nearly gone insane in hours after she had been kidnapped.

 John holds open an arm for her, and she wraps around him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 “What are you two going to do?” He asks.

 “Marcus brought Thai food,” she gestures to the paper bag, “And we’re going to get drunk then watch and score kung-fu movies bloodlust, technique, and general sexiness.”

 John smiles down at Helen, wondering how he ever managed to make it day to day without her. “Sounds like fun.”

 “We’re starting with Enter the Dragon. Which I’m going to go get set up.” Helen stands on tiptoes and gives John a quick kiss, before grabbing her wine glass and heading to the living room.

 “Last mission.” Marcus says.

 John nods again, “It is.”

 “How do you feel?”

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Helen.” John jokes, thinking of all the times his girlfriend had asked him that very same question, “But I feel ready.”

 “Nervous?”

 “Not even a little.”

 “Good.” Marcus glances to where she had exited, “I worried in the beginning. That you weren’t thinking clearly; that she didn’t have what it takes to be involved with an assassin. I’m glad I was wrong on both counts.”

 John looks down because he really doesn’t know how to have this conversation. He’d said his goodbyes to Sofia, to Winston, to Charon. To the few members of the Underworld that mattered to him. But this is one he just doesn’t know how to say.

 Marcus has had his back for two decades. He’d been his friend and confidant. The only person on the planet John had felt he could trust Helen to when his life fell apart. The man who, even now, was devoting his time to helping Helen.

 “We know the rules,” Marcus says quietly, “That after tonight… we go our separate ways…”

 “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.” John says just as softly.

 He’s told Helen, explained it to her.

 She had been angry, at first. That John was being forced to give up his friends along with everything else. That the Underworld was so unwavering and rigid with their rules and expectations. Then, she had been sad. Then guilty.

 She promised she would love him whether he left the Underworld or not and he believed her. But the life he wanted… it was for both of them. And it didn’t involve looking over their shoulders every moment of every day. He wanted to take her to dinner and not worry that the man two tables over was packing. To go to the farmer’s market without wondering if someone was going to attack.

 He told her again and again that this was      his    decision. That he was the one deciding to part ways in order to have the life that      he     wanted.

 And he has no regrets.

 There was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice for that life.

 “Me too. But… you’re making the right choice, John.” Marcus assures him. “And I know that we won’t be able to go get a beer or hang out but write to me now and then. Send me the announcement if you ever convince that beautiful woman to marry you.”

 John nods, “I will.”

 “Good.”

 And maybe it’s because it’s goodbye, or maybe Helen has made him completely soft, but John walks across the room and hugs his friend.

 “Thank you. For everything.”

 Marcus nods, “Just… live well. Take care of each other.”

 “We will.”

 They part and John leaves Marcus to sort through the takeout he had brought with him. John follows Helen into the living room. She is using the remote to type in a password, standing barefoot in the middle of the sunken section.

 John takes the two steps down. Helen glances up as he does. He watches her swallow.

 “Time to go?” She asks softly and he nods.

 She tosses the remote to the side and throws her arms around him. Her grip is impossibly tight, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never felt more loved than when her arms are around him.

 “You’ll be careful out there?” her voice breaks a bit as she asks the same question, she asked every single week before he left the safety of her office. Right before John went out to venture into the Underworld.

 “I promise.” He kisses the top of her head.

 She breathes a soft sigh of relief. Helen leans back, looking up at him even if she doesn’t release her arms. “Because if you’re not back by morning, I’m coming after you.”

 “I’ll be back.”

 Partially because there was no way in Hell he was ever letting her become involved with the Underworld again but mostly because she was his home. The only one he had ever known.

 John catches her jaw in his hand and angles her face upward and teases, “It will be over soon. This time next week, you’ll be so annoyed with me, you’ll be wishing you could send me back.”

 “Never.” She says even as she smiles. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.” He kisses her lips, giving himself a moment to be completely consumed by her. To memorize, once more, her smell and touch and taste. He’ll take her with him everywhere he goes and hold on to the memory to guide him back home.

 With a final, soft kiss on lips he releases her. To leave her side one last time. He walks back up the steps to the leveled floor. He reaches out for the handle to the garage door.

 “John?” She says and he glances back, “Come home to me.”

 His lips twitch as he opens the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 With the morning comes their promise of forever.

[karen-elaine]

Hey guys!

So I’m currently on vacation! My family and I are doing a cross country trip! For reference, I live on the east coast and had never ventured away from the east coast. This has now obviously changed and among our many stops was LA. While there my dad and I decided that it was crucial we stopped by the iconic Amoeba Music located on Hollywood Boulevard.

I did my fair share of shopping around, got some cool stuff, and overall had an epic experience. So, I figured I’d talk about it on here!

THE STORE

Here’s the store itself just chilling on the corner living it’s best life. It’s not super grand or anything from the outside, you get most of that wow factor when you walk inside. Still super cool though and they had some super chill employees hanging out right outside the door to welcome people in and chat with the customers.

When you first walk in to the store this is what you’re greeted by! It’s this awesome, colorful, record mural with those nice LED lights in it. I didn’t take anymore pictures once inside, but it was huge! There were rows and rows of records, cassettes, CDs, band tees, and equipment for listening. It was crazy and there was so much stuff to look through! If it wasn’t for the limited time we had due to the parking meter, I could’ve spent forever in there just looking through everything.

ARCTIC MONKEYS - FAVOURITE WORST NIGHTMARE

First of the many records I got today is Favourite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys! I got one Arctic Monkeys album a couple of months ago (Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not) and now I’m on a mission to get all of their albums. Needless to say, I was super excited to stumble across this one at Amoeba.

This record has a very epic song list! In total it contains 12 songs including:

Brianstorm

Teddy Picker

D Is For Dangerous

Balaclava

Fluorescent Adolescent

Only Ones Who Know

Do Me A Favour

If You Were There, Beware

The Bad Thing

Old Yellow Bricks

505

I believe this one just to be pressed on a black vinyl, but I won’t be opening it until I’m back home.

ARCTIC MONKEYS - A.M.

Yes I got myself another Arctic Monkeys album because why the heck not? In my defense though I never see these two at my local record shops, so that’s my excuse!

This album is a classic and I find a staple in many people’s collections. It features many of their big hits and is overall just an iconic record to own. With that being said, the song list is pretty awesome. A.M. features 12 tracks:

Do I Wanna Know?

R U Mine?

One for the Road

Arabella

I Want It All

No. 1 Party Anthem

Mad Sounds

Fireside

Why’d You Only Call Me When Your High?

Snap Out of It

Knee Socks

I Wanna Be Yours

Once again I do believe this to be on a plain black vinyl. Either way, my best friend is super excited that I got this one.

BIKINI KILL - REVOLUTION GIRL STYLE NOW!

Last time I came at all of you with a Bikini Kill record it was Pussy Whipped. This time around though I picked up Revolution Girl Style Now! which is pretty great! The “B” section of my collection is really starting to bulk up and I’m not mad about it!

As always the songs on this album are most excellent. This one has:

Candy

Daddy’s L’il Girl

Feels Blind

Suck My Left One

Carnival

This Is Not a Test

Double Dare Ya

Liar

Ocean Song

Just Once

Playground

Sticking with the common theme here, I’m assuming the vinyl is just a standard black pressing.

BIKINI KILL - YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH

Yes I got another Bikini Kill album! I swear this is the last one of multiple from one artist. It’s just Arctic Monkeys and Bikini Kill this time around.

Any who, this is another classic album of theirs with many great, well known songs from them. This includes:

White Boy

This is Not a Test

Don’t Need You

Jigsaw Youth

Resist Psychic Death

Rebel Girl

Outta Me

George Bush is a Pig

I Busted in Your Chevy Window

Get Out

Why

Fuck Twin Peaks

Girl Soldier

Not Right Now

Once again, I’m assuming that this is just a plain black vinyl. I don’t even think there is any colored pressings of Bikini Kill, but I could be wrong. Who knows?

FALL OUT BOY - TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE

Here we have an artist I’ve been looking to add to my collection for a while now, Fall Out Boy! I can never seem to find their records in person, but today at Amoeba Music they had this one and Save Rock And Roll. That one was super expensive though with a lot of extra stuff. I was not looking to drop $40 on one album today, so I decided on this one instead!

The song list on this one is sweet. It features 12 songs all of which I’m pumped to listen to once I arrive home:

Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today

Dead On Arrival

Grand Theft Autumn/Where Is Your Boy

Saturday

Homesick At Space Camp

Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash

Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Grenade Jumper

Calm Before the Storm

Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Such a great album and it’s also such a great pressing! This copy of Take This To Your Grave is pressed on the limited edition silver vinyl which is super sweet.

MELANIE MARTINEZ - CRY BABY

I wasn’t even planning on this one but when I saw at the store I couldn’t say no! This album was my favorite in 6th grade and I was such a hardcore Melanie fan then. This album and Melanie herself is so iconic and I knew I had to get it.

All of Melanie Martinez’s packaging is always stunning too! I know this one has a whole picture book in it with a page for each song that connects the whole album in to one story. Super cool stuff!

This record contains 13 sweet songs including:

Cry Baby

Dollhouse

Sippy Cup

Carousel

Alphabet Boy

Soap

Training Wheels

Pity Party

Tag, You’re It

Milk and Cookies

Pacify Her

Mrs. Potato Head

Mad Hatter

This is the standard black pressing, but as I said before, the packaging for this is great so it’s all good! I’m super excited to give this guy a listen when I get home! My favorite through middle school was Mad Hatter so that’s going to be so fun to hear on vinyl.

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE- DANGER DAYS: THE TRUE LIVES OF THE FABULOUS KILLJOYS

Final record purchase of the day is by none other than My Chemical Romance! I got their album Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys and I’m super excited about it!

This record marks my second MCR vinyl in my collection, other than this one, I have The Black Parade which is another awesome album.

As always he have a very epic song list consisting of 15 tracks including:

Look Alive, Sunshine

Na Na Na

Bulletproof Heart

SING

Planetary (GO!)

The Only Hope for Me Is You

Jet‐Star and the Kobra Kid/Traffic Report

Party Poison

Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Summertime

DESTROYA

The Kids from Yesterday

Goodnite, Dr. Death

Vampire Money

As shown in the image, this is not a standard black pressing! I got the fancy picture disc which was the only available option and I’m definitely not mad about it. Super cool, and my very first picture disc. Can’t wait to spin this one!

T-SHIRT

While I was there I also had to pick up some Amoeba merch to take back home with me!

They had a really epic graphic tee section. Some of which were for various musical artists while others were for the store itself. They had so many too!

I ended up going for this simple, black, logo tee with this super cute pink logo in the center. I think it’s adorable and I’m so looking forward to styling it back home.

PIN

As I was chilling in line I spotted the pins display and took a quick look at that too. I ended up grabbing a little rainbow pin with the Amoeba Music logo in the center. Once I’m home I plan to put this on my denim jacket that I’m currently trying to fill with cool pins and patches. It’s definitely going to be a really cool addition to my jacket. Unfortunately though, no pictures because I reached the max number of pictures. Very sad.

[13dead-ends]

Chapter 9 A Week Away

Chapter 9 of Blood Bound

Henry Cavill x Named OC

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Nina is back in America for the holiday and tries to have a good vacation despite being away from Henry and rising tensions in the donor community.

Warnings: riot heavy chapter, incorrect use of fireworks, mentions of blood, stitches, (if i missed some please let me know)

A/N: Here it is finally! I wanted this out weeks ago so i didnt really edit at all. Im sorry! Also thanks to @hellcaster901​ and her ideas there is some drama on its way!! Enjoy! <3

“Wake up! It’s time for breakfast!” I grinned as a knee landed on my gut. I opened my eyes and saw Irene’s 11 year old cousin was jumping on us.

           “Lucas, I swear to god if you don’t get out right now!” Irene teased, pushing him off of us.

           “Geez, fine!” He giggled and ran out. “But it really is time for breakfast.” He yelled back at us.

           “He’s lucky he’s young. Otherwise I might kill him.” I laughed.

           “Come on, let’s get up.” We got out of bed and went downstairs. I smelled bacon and coffee as we entered the kitchen. There were sounds of glass clinking together and silverware being jostled around.

           “There you two are, always the last ones up.” Mom was pushing around a large pan of scrambled eggs. “Irene go help your cousin set the table, Nina, honey, will you put some more coffee on? The aunts are guzzling it down.”

           “Sure, mom.” Irene went to the table and I went to the coffee pot. The thing was already empty so I just loaded the new grounds in with the water.

           “Did you sleep okay? I know you’re usually asleep technically right now.” I nodded, pulling out my own mug for when the coffee was done.

           “I slept like the dead. Flying that long really wears me out.” She rubbed my back.

           “I bet, but I’m glad you’re here honey. I didn’t want you alone on thanksgiving so far away.” I couldn’t help but hug her.

           “Thanks, mom. For letting me come every year.” She kissed my head.

           “You’ll always be invited.” She squeezed me and let me go. I went to help Irene with the table. I found her chasing her cousin with a fork and I rolled my eyes.

           “Irene, stop tormenting your cousin.” Lucas had a smirk on his face though. “And you too, Lucas.” He huffed. The table was only half set, so I took the fork out of Irene’s hand and set it down.

           “He’s the little brother I never asked for!” Irene teased and Lucas laughed. We finished the table and I had set my phone down somewhere.

           “Lucas, did you see where I put my phone?” I looked over to him, he was standing across the table, my phone in his hand.

           “You mean this one?” As he held it up it rang and I saw Henry’s contact fill the screen. “Oh look at someone’s calling.” Irene cackled while I moved to snatch the phone back. “Nina’s phone, who’s this?” He answered, running away from me. “Henry? Are you Nina’s British friend? I’m Lucas!” I rolled my eyes and he made it around the table to Irene. She stopped him, taking the phone away. Before I could thank her she put the phone up to her ear.

           “Jesus Christ.” I mumbled, stopping my feet and rubbing my forehead.

           “Henry, I’d like to personally apologize for my cousin. This is Irene by the way, Nina’s best friend.” I walked over to her.

           “You’re so dramatic.” I punched her shoulder and took the phone.

           “Hey Henry are you still there?” He was chuckling already as I put the phone to my ear.

           “Yes darling,” I walked out and to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

           “Oh good. I would’ve hung up on all that.” He laughed again.

           “No it was funny, plus I did say I wanted to meet Irene.” I laughed.

           “She wants to meet you.”

           “How old is Lucas?”

           “11.” I sighed. “But hey, what’s up?”

           “I just wanted to see if you were up yet, ask how California was so far?”

           “It’s good, we’re about to eat breakfast. I thought you’d be sleeping right now?”

           “I’m staying up for a night shoot, I thought it’d work out if I called you now.” I smiled.

           “It did! How are you?”

           “I’m alright, tired now that my schedules off.”

           “Yeah, I’m just waiting for jet lag to kick in.”

           “I know how that feels. Are you doing anything today?”

           “I’m not sure what Irene has planned. I am going to see some friends at the company tomorrow, though.” Kari had found out through Abbey that I was coming to the states and she wanted to see me.

           “Oh that will be good, just be careful? The protests are pretty regular there.” The protests had become a regular part of the news lately. LA did have it bad.

           “I will, Irene’s family lives in the suburbs, so that’ll probably be the only time I’m in the city.” I heard Mom call for breakfast.

           “Good, I’ll try to call you when I can and text.”

           “Thanks, so will I.”

           “Go eat breakfast, talk to you soon.”

           “Bye Henry.” We hung up and I went back out to eat. The table now had plates of bacon, sausage, and eggs, plus Auntie Jen and Auntie Jess were sitting at the table, both with fresh cups of coffee.

           “There’s Nina,” Jen got up and hugged me. “You look beautiful as usual.” I smiled and went over to Jess to hug her, she kissed my cheek.

           “There’s fresh coffee in there honey.” I laughed nodding.

           “I know, I’ll get some.” Lucas came running in with a big glass of orange juice. “Woah, slow down, buddy.” He slowed to a walk and sat next to his mom, Jess. I went to fill my mug and saw Irene’s dad pouring two mugs, one of them being mine.

           “Hey Nina,” He smiled at me over his glasses. “I got your cup.”

           “Thanks,” I went to the fridge and got the creamer. I poured it in each of ours and he clinked our glasses together before we drank.

           “It’s good to see you back here.” He rubbed my back and we walked into the dining room to eat with the family.

           Irene ended up dragging me out to go grocery shopping with her so I wouldn’t fall asleep in the middle of the day. Henry did text me here and there, in between takes of his night shoot. It wasn’t a lot but it was all I could get for the time being.

             “Irene, its just lunch, we’re not even leaving the building.” It was the next day and Irene was dropping me off at the company building.

           “I know, but those protesters are there a lot. Especially lately.” I sighed, seeing the building up the street.

           “I promise I’ll be careful. Plus security has been amped up a lot.” It was true security had been raised company wide. I had noticed the increase in it the last time I was at the building in London. It made me feel better, but more anxious at the same time.

           “Just call me if you need anything. I’ll be here at two o’clock to pick you up.” She held the steering wheel fighters as we came up to the front door, four or five protesters with stupid signs were out front already. “Okay, nope, we’re going home.” Security was pushing them back from the door, but Irene was letting off the brakes.

           “Irene, it’s fine. The guards can handle a few people with signs.” She huffed but stopped.

           “I’ll call you when I’m here. Seriously be careful.”

           “Thank you, Irene. See you later, okay?” I opened the door and hopped out. One of the guards held open the door for me as I ignored the taunts from the protesters.

           “Freak!” I heard as the door shut. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

           “Nina! Welcome back.” I opened my eyes and saw Kari standing at the front desk. “Sorry about all that. They’re all idiots.” I laughed as she pulled me to the elevator. “It’s good to see you!”

           “It’s good to see you.” She linked her arm with mine. “Have they been bothering you guys a lot?” She hit the up button and we waited for the doors.

           “Yes, they stand out there all the time. It’s obvious not doing anything so why don’t they just stop?” The doors opened and we stepped in, Kari pressing the button.

           “I don’t know. It’s weird in London too.” She shook her head.

           “Again, they are all idiots.” We made it up to her floor and walked to her office. “I got us burgers and they just got here.”

           “Yay, thank you!” We sat at her desk and caught up with each other.

           “Henry Cavill’s still your client right?” I nodded, picking at what was left of my fries. “How is that? I haven’t donated since I was in college, and when he sent in his paperwork I almost started again.” I chuckled, shaking my head.

           “I mean, he’s like most clients. He calls me, he feeds.” She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

           “Oh come on, what else? You donors get to meet all these celebrities all the time. What’s he like? Please tell me he’s as charming as he looks.” I giggled at her dramatics.

           “He is really charming.” I rested my chin on my hand and my elbow on the desk. “He never pressures me into anything, which is great.”

           “Has he bought you lots of things? Abbey told me about this trip she went on once.” I nodded. Irene texted me then, saying she was on her way, but traffic was bad. I furrowed my brow, we were well past the lunch rush, but there could be an accident or something.

           “Yeah, he bought me this beautiful dress for a wedding he took me too, here I think I have a picture.” At some point during the wedding the photographer had taken photos of us and Henry had gotten his hands on it. It was just us talking. I was looking up at him and his hand was moving as he explained something to me. “He surprised me with the dress and the bag-“

           “Nina, you look like a couple!” I couldn’t help but smile. “You look beautiful!” She took my phone and I saw her zoom in. “You’ve got some cow eyes for Henry too.” She laughed at me and I punched her shoulder. “Seriously, you both look good.” She handed me the phone back. “Do you like him?” Her brows raised, but she was smiling.

           “Well yeah, apparently I have cow eyes.” She rolled her eyes. “I only showed you the picture to see the dress.”

           “And you thought I wouldn’t notice the rest of the picture?” She laughed. “My advice is to tie him down before it’s too late.” I joined her laughter as we started cleaning up our trash from lunch.

           “How long are you in town for?” We walked to the elevator.

           “Just for the week. I’ll fly back-“ Kari’s phone rang and she sighed.

           “Hang on.” She answered it and I went over to the windows to see if Irene’s car was out front. My eyes widened as I looked at the street below. The group of protesters had multiplied and weren’t happy. Security was holding them back, but there were a lot of people. I gulped when I saw a man push a guard down.

           “Kari-“ I was going to call her over here, but an object flew out of the crowd, I couldn’t figure out what it was. I squinted my eyes as the protesters looked up. I backed up as I realized what it was. The firecracker hit and shattered a window only yards away from where we were standing. Kari screamed and I pushed her back the the way we came as the the thing popped so loud my ears were ringing. Smoke filled the hallway as we ran. I wasn’t sure where we were going, but Kari grabbed my wrist, pulling me faster. I choked on the smoke as she pulled me into the stairway. The echos of our feet and coldness of the concrete walls made me shiver.

           “Nina, what was that?”

           “A fucking firework.” I still didn’t believe it.

           “Security told me to go back to my office and lock the doors, but that was before the firework.” She held her head. “Oh my god, Nina, what’s happening?” My hands shook.

           “Is there somewhere else we can go?” There were tears in her eyes as she thought.

           “A few floors down there’s a janitorial room that locks.” I grabbed her hands.

           “Okay, let’s go. Just keep it together until then.” She nodded, but I wasn’t sure if I couldn’t hold it together. We jumped out of our skin when we heard a door slam at the bottom of the staircase. “Does this lead outside?” Her eyes widened as we heard loud footsteps and voices coming up the stairs.

           “Yes, shit, let’s go.” She pulled me down two flights and burst through the door at the last one, all while the protesters got louder. We ran as fast as we could through another floor of offices. “It’s on the other side of the floor.” Kari ran faster and my hand slipped from hers. We ran past more windows, staying close to the opposite wall. Kari got farther head of me and as I sped up a window shattered in front of me. I stopped so hard I tripped and fell, cutting my arm on glass. Before I could get up I saw what broke the window, Another firework. I scrambled backwards, trying to find my footing. I barely got to my feet before it went off. I covered my face and felt the smoke surround me. Popping and sizzling and the choking smell of smoke invaded my senses. The ringing in my ears got higher in pitch and I couldn’t heard much. The smoke was clearing but my chest forced coughs up my throat. Someone grabbed my arm and I turned to see Kari. She sounded muffled, but she was telling me to follow her so I clutched her arm for dear life and she took me to the room we were looking for. She slammed the door shut and locked it. I had to sit down, I found some folding chairs and got one.

           “Nina? Are you okay?” Kari turned to me. “Oh my god, your arm.” She walked to me and pushed my ripped sleeve up. The cut was bleeding and pretty big. I couldn’t really feel it yet, but I knew it hit me sooner or later. “I think you need stitches.” I leaned back and she found a rag. “Put pressure on it.” She chewed on her lip as she look at me.

           “Kari, it’s okay.”

           “No it’s not! Those assholes hurt you. God, you wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t begged you to go to lunch.” I shook my head.

           “I agreed to be here, Kari. This is not your fault. It’s those crazies.” Suddenly we heard voices and running outside. I pressed my lips together and Kari pressed her ear on the door. I jumped when my phone rang and I scrambled to turn it off. It was Irene, but I couldn’t talk. I tried texting her but I heard a voice clear as day outside the door.

           “Dude, the cops are here.”

           “Fuck, let’s go.” More footsteps fading away and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Irene called me again and I answered.

           “Nina! What the fuck is going on? There’s smoke coming from windows and there’s protesters running everywhere.” She was crying, I could hear it in her voice. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

           “I’m okay. I’m locked in a janitors closet, but I’m okay.” I tried not to stare at the white rag turning red on my arm. “You need to get back home. It’s not safe.”

           “No way. I’m coming to get you.” I felt a lump in my throat form.

           “Irene, no.” If she got hurt here, I’d never forgive myself.

           “I can’t just leave you there. Like you said it’s not safe.” My eyes welled up.

           “I know, but if you try and help me we’ll both be stuck here. Or worse.” I shuddered. “I’ll try to text you when I can, but I gotta go.”

           “Nina are you sure-“

           “Go home. I’ll be okay.” I hung up before I started crying. “Please go home Irene.” Kari had been texting someone as I spoke, she was shaking a little so I got her a chair, my arm beginning to throb. “Sit.” I told her and she did.

           “Cops are outside, I texted security where we are, they’ll be here soon.” I shut my eyes and leaned back. “How’s your arm?”

           “It’s fine. I probably need to get it looked at though.” My phone buzzed again and I saw notifications from news websites I follow. I clicked one and saw a live video of outside the building. Protesters were running off as police filled the area. The street had been blocked off, and police were detaining whoever they could. I closed the video and shut my eyes.

           “LA PD, anyone in here?” We had been completely silent as we waited for the police. Kari ran over to the door and unlocked it.

           “Yes, we’re here.” She opened the door. “My friend, she’s hurt.” Two cops were on the other side.

           “There are EMTs downstairs.” The cops took us downstairs and EMTs had set up in the donations lab. Kari sat with me as they cleaned my arm and thankfully just stitched it there. It hurt bad now that the adrenaline was gone. No one was majorly injured. A donor did have to go get some burns looked at but she was going to be okay.

           “You guys can wait here. I think the police need to ask you guys some questions.” I huffed.

           “I just want to go back home.” I mumbled. I’ve also had the urge to call Henry since the cops found us, but I didn’t want to worry him. It seems like I’d be busy for a bit anyways.

           “Hello, ladies.” One of the cops from before walked to us. “If you don’t mind answering some questions for us. I can take one of you over to my partner.” Kari stood.

           “I’ll go first. Nina, I can get you home after all this okay? We’ll leave as soon as we’re done.” I nodded and she let the man lead her away. I started a message to Irene, but Henry’s contact lighting up my screen interrupted me.

           “Henry?” I answered it immediately.

           “Nina, oh my god. I just saw the news. We’re you in the building today?” I sighed.

           “Yeah, I’m still there now.” I heard movement on the other end.

           “What? Are you alright? What’s going on?” I looked down at my bandaged forearm.

           “I’m okay. The cops are here and it’s settling down.” I scratched at some soot on my jeans. “I’ve been wanting to call you.”

           “I’m so glad your okay. I needed to make sure. Do you want to tell me what happened?” I swallowed, but explained everything. He sighed as I finished.

           “God, I could fly over there right now if I didn’t-“

           “No it’s okay. I’m fine. I’ll be back soon. Fortunately a little cut doesn’t ruin a vacation.” The bandage covered half my arm, but he didn’t know that.

           “Are you sure you’re okay?” I took a deep breath, seeing Kari and cop walking back.

           “Yeah. I’m okay, Henry. I think I need to talk to the police now. I’ll talk to you soon.

           “Alright. If you need to talk, just call me, okay?” We said goodbye and I answered the questions from the police. It didn’t take long and I couldn’t wait to get out of there.

           “Come on, Nina. I can take you home.” The cops took us to the back where they were sending everybody home through. Kari lead me to her car and we drove mostly in silence.

           “Are you okay, Kari?” I asked her as we turned on Irene’s street.

           “I should be okay soon. Are you?” I nodded and she pulled into Irene’s driveway. Irene was standing on the porch with Mom. “Have a good Thanksgiving. Hopefully that’ll keep our minds off things.” I pulled her into a big hug and got out.

           The two women on the porch hugged me as soon as I was in reach. I squeezed them tightly as I tried not to cry. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you cleaned up.” Mom pulled me inside, arm around my shoulder. Irene held my hand and followed us inside. I let them bring me upstairs, the cousins and aunts in the living room staring at me as we went. I told them I just needed to shower and lay down. Mom squeezed my hands and left. Irene lingered and hugged my neck.

           “I’m glad you’re okay.” She let go and walked off.” I swallowed down tears and went to the bathroom. After my shower I shut Irene’s lights off and got in bed. I dialed Henry’s number and pressed my phone to my ear.

           “Hey Nina. You home?”

           “Yep, finally.” He chuckled.

           “How are you? I mean-you don’t have to answer that.” His sudden stutter made me giggle.

           “Well I feel better after getting all that soot off me. Kari and I probably stunk up her car.” I pulled my phone away and put it on speaker. “Speaking of her, I should make sure she got home.” I sent her a message as Henry spoke.

           “That’s a good thing at least.”

           “I’m just sitting in the dark now. I need the quiet.” I shut my eyes.

           “By the way, try to avoid social media. It’s everywhere right now.” I huffed.

           “Thank you, and thanks for answering.”

           “Of course, it’s good to hear your voice.” I couldn’t help but smile.

           “Yours too.” I whispered.

           “When do you get back to London?” He huffed.

           “Saturday, I think.” I couldn’t think of the time difference right now. “I’ll be back and complaining about jet lag in no time.”

           “I can’t wait.” We talked for a little while and I had to hang up before I fell asleep on the phone. I shut my eyes and it didn’t take long.

           “Nina,” Irene was shaking my shoulder as I opened my eyes. “it’s time to eat.” I got up and followed her downstairs. I really hoped everyone would act normal tonight.

           “Nina, can I see your stitches?” Lucas came from the kitchen holding a bowl of spaghetti.

           “Jesus Lucas!” Irene punched him and I laughed.

           “It’s fine, I’ll have to change the bandages eventually so you can see them then.” He grinned and walked off to the living room.

           “Sorry,”

           “It’s fine. He’s a kid. I’m just glad he’s not being weird.” She furrowed her brows.

           “He just asked to see your stitches.” I shook my head and pulled her to the kitchen where the pot of noodles sat on the stove. Irene and I got our bowls and went to the table.

           “You better eat that entire bowl, Nina.” Aunt Jess poked my arm. “We won’t have that arm ruin thanksgiving.” I shook my head.

           “It won’t. It’s not that bad anyways.” Well it did hurt quite a bit, but I’d take some painkillers soon. “They told me to go to the hospital until the stitches need to come out.”

           “I think we’re all just glad you’re okay. That everyone’s okay.” Mom came in last, and we all ate.

           “Next time I see one of those stupid signs, I’ll beat the crap out of the son of-“ Irene’s dad started

           “Honey, not at the table. Let’s just eat, Nina’s had enough of protests for the day.” I smiled at mom and she happily changed the subject to Black Friday shopping. We ate and the packed table of people made me feel a lot lighter than when I first got back.

I tried focusing on Thanksgiving a lot more, wanting to get my mind off of everything else. I spent the next day grocery shopping for Thanksgiving with Irene and her mom. Irene decided to let me help her with desserts and by seven that evening I was elbow deep in flour. Irene was rolling out another pie crust while I poured the last of the wine in our cups, adding another floury handprint to the mix of them on the bottle.

           “Have you heard anything about the article?” Irene had a splotch of flour on her cheek. I set her glass down next to her and went back to the dishes I was washing.

           “No, my editor emailed me and I thought maybe there’d be something but she was just checking in after everything.” I sighed. “Which was nice, but I want to know what she thinks of everything.” I wore gloves so my bandages stayed dry. “This is the worst part. I hate not knowing what she thinks. Waiting for her response.” I shook my head.

           “Well, I know I’ve only read snippets, but I love it. And Abbey seems so cool. I can’t wait to meet her eventually.” I smiled.

           “You’ll love her. She wants to meet you too. And we have to go out when you two meet.” Irene turned around.

           “Oh my god, it’s been so long since we went to the bars.” She pouted.

           “I know! Look we’re wine drunk let me just buy you plan tickets right now and you come back to London with me.” She burst out laughing.

           “I wish!” She rolled her eyes. “But we should plan something maybe I could get some time off in January?” I nodded, grinning at her.

           “Yes! Just say the word and I’m buying the tickets.” By the time we finished the baking and cleaned up most of the house had gone to bed. We snuck up to Irene’s room and got ready for bed.

           “How crowded is the house going to be tomorrow?” I asked Irene as she got under the covers.

           “Very, why do you think we made so much dessert?” She rattled off a few relatives and I sighed. “You’re really okay right?” It was dark and I couldn’t make out her face.

           “Yeah, I think so.” I sighed. “I’m just glad it’s over and that’s it’s almost Thanksgiving.” She chuckled.

           “Me too. I’m glad you’re okay too.”

 I woke up on Thanksgiving to Irene getting shoved out of bed by Lucas. I laughed with him as she grumbled, running her hands through her messy hair. “Your mom says to get up.” Lucas ran out of the room and I helped Irene off the floor.

           “He’s the worst part of Thanksgiving.” She stated.

           “Shut up you love him.” I patted her back. “Come on, we gotta get ready before everyone gets here.” We got dressed and ended up sharing a bathroom to do our makeup. I was focusing on my eyeliner as Irene danced to some song in the mirror. Suddenly my phone buzzed, almost falling off the toilet, where it had to go to make room for our makeup. Irene was closer so she grabbed it.

           “I think its your editor.” She handed it to me, and I furrowed my brows. I took it from her and answered.

           “Hello?” I stepped out of the bathroom with only one eye done.

           “Nina! I’m sorry to call you today, but with everything going on I just thought I’d let you know early. Your article was amazing and it’s most definitely going on the site.” I broke out into a grin. “I love this Abbey girl; she’s going to kick the series off wonderfully. I see why you picked her.”

           “Thank you so much. I’m so happy you liked it.” I jumped a little, already wanting to tell Irene.

           “I want to talk everything through once were back and settled after this week.”

           “Yes, just let me know.”

           “Happy Thanksgiving, Nina.”

           “Happy Thanksgiving!” I hung up and went right back in to tell Irene.

           “Well what did she say?” She set her curling iron down.

           “She likes the piece, and she wants to make it a series!” Irene cheered and hugged me. “Irene! This is great!”

           “It is! Congrats, Nina!” She rubbed my back. “I think this deserves a celebratory shot.” I laughed and Irene ran out of the bathroom. I shook my head and went to my phone to text Henry. Call me if you can. I want to tell you something. I sent and went back to my makeup. Irene came back up with two shot glasses filled with clear liquid. “Vodka okay?” I cringed, but nodded, taking one from her. We clinked our glasses together and swallowed it down.

           “Yay!” I set my glass down.

           “I say we get hammered today.” Irene began pouring another.

           “Irene, your family is about to be crawling over every inch of this house. I can’t be slurring my words by three p.m.” She only shrugged. “Whatever, I’m not taking care of you later.” We finished getting ready and when I went downstairs, I told everyone the good news. I got a big hug from Mom and a kiss on the cheek from the aunts. I tried not to think about a reply from Henry. He probably was sleeping. I hated different time zones and busy schedules. Turns out that the booze helped keep my mind off it and I was tipsy as I heaped food on my plate. Irene giggled as she handed me the spoon for corn.

           “Someone’s buzzed.”

           “So are you.” I nudged her elbow. We sat together and tried to eat a little of our buzz away. It turned into eating ourselves into food comas, falling asleep on the couch. I slept through my phone ringing, but when I woke up and saw it was Henry I groaned. I tried calling him again, but he didn’t answer. I huffed and rolled my eyes.

           “You’ll talk to him soon don’t worry.” Irene had rolled over in her spot on the couch. “Just go back to sleep.” I put my phone down and pulled a blanket over me.

~~~

Taglist:

@xxxkatxo​ @omgkatinka​ @thereisa8ella​ @lamthetwickster​ @thatgirly81​ @vikingsbifrost​

[claptraprights]

i’d love to read some timothy headcanons if you have any :D

Ah yes, Super Trauma Boy

- He has a love-hate relationship with The Man In The Iron Mask. It’s his personal (dis)comfort book. As a child, he loved the Three Musketeers and he was really excited when he found a collector’s edition copy in the trash on the Jackpot - but the first volumes had been damaged beyond readability which left him with that fucking boomerang of a book.

- Sometimes he stalks old college friends and even school friends on social media and many of them have good jobs and kids now or go on cool vacations and he feels like crying every time he looks at it but he just can’t stop doing it and it’s partly out of a ‘see what you could have had if you deserved it, if you weren’t such a fuck-up’-instinct but also a vague hope that someone might post something that implies they remember him, that weird shy freckled kid from college just to remind him that that was real, that Timothy Lawrence was real. He never checks up on his Mum though. He couldn’t bear to see her face. (He barely remembers it anyway.)

- Tbh he feels super conflicted about Elpis because...he was actually good at all that? Two months ago he was hiding in the university library under the table from some Student Loan Administration spy and here he is now on one of the borderlands-planets’ moons that you only hear rumours about at the edge of the galaxy in a semi-active war zone between to megacorps killing actual real life bandits like the ones you see in the films? And he is better at this than he ever was in his seminars? But at the same time, his face is gone and he doesn’t actually like killing (although...a part of him does which makes it worse) and he has no home to return to and he’s hanging around an Atlas assassin and a guy who wants to be a robot and honestly, it’s best not to think about any of this, gun goes brrrr and he doesn’t like the strange edge Jack’s voice gets when Timothy says he feels uncomfortable doing this or that thing.

- After the whole casino thing, he sometimes visits Moxxi when she’s in a bar off Sanctuary III (he’s not gonna show ‘his’ face around there) but he also disassociates when he sees a slot machine. He has enough of slot machines for the rest of his life (especially considering that he knew some that would come to life and attack you!)

- Listen. Debt in the Borderlands-universe? Is no joke. Even in the civilised areas. The University has its own goons, the organisations giving students money for tuition are have their own goons, if you are behind on your payments, both come after you and you never know when they’ll knock on your door at night and ramsack your apartment for anything valuable.

- In fact, they also have permission to access your accounts and they took his rent money so he was homeless for about two years bc he was ashamed to return home and admit he fucked up. Plus, if he did they might even come after his family.

- He’s just not that good with computers, ok? He wanted to become a writer, for crying out loud. He’s no software engineer, anyway. Jack always tried to teach him to make him more convincing in his role but this whole coding language stuff just never made sense to him and Jack really isn’t a patient teacher (it’s one thing to yell at him for two hours how he can ‘possibly be so stupid! So frigging stupid, how does that not go into your dumb little head, you absolute moron!’ but does he really have to ECHO him again at 2am for a second helping?? Really doesn’t boost your self-confidence.)

- Again, one from my fic, but he was actually kinda close with Meg* - she knew of him anyway - and sometimes they helped each other in their own little ways. *(Meg the secretary, not Nakayama’s garbage monster)

- He is so, so, so brainwashed, okay? Lots of his memories are gone, he was heavily medicated to deal with all the blood and violence and it made things even more blurry, and let’s not kid ourselves, pissing off Jack had horrible consequences. Sometimes electro-shocks and isolation chambers were involved as it got worse. Also the “DNA giving him Jack’s personality”-thing isn’t true and just gaslighting (or maybe the DNA-part is true but it doesn’t affect his personality.) (mostly bc I find the whole murder DNA idea dumb af)

- Killing scavs and soldier who want to kill you is one thing. But the first time Jack forced him to kill innocent, unarmed employees he couldn’t do it and got put through some desensitisation wringer (the gist of it was the lesson that if he doesn’t strangle some poor catering guy, Jack is going to hurt them far worse) Doesn’t really help with the nightmares though.

- I talked about this before but I am convinced that his mother didn’t actually laugh at the news of his death. Timothy actually seems to think of her quite fondly and it would be quite strange that a woman who...apparently was a good enough Mum for him to feel safe with her would laugh at her own son’s death. Instead, I think Jack and the doctors told him that (or maybe used altered footage) to make him more loyal and to burn all bridges so that he doesn’t feel like has anywhere to turn back to or someone who would hide him if Hyperion came after him.

- The first time he noticed his fear heights was at the age of seven, during a school trip to a science museum as a kid. There was a transparent platform that you could walk up on to watch an experiment from above and once he walked up there and looked down he immediately felt terrified standing on that glass with some Science Lightning Shit going on beneath him.

- He has flashbacks and nightmares to getting his face branded sometimes, especially when he hears noises of sizzling meat or smells burnt flesh (which is actually quite a common smell around the Handsome Jackpot)

- Ironically, there was a cartoon that he watched when he was really young where a monster steals faces (OK MAYBE IT WAS THE 10000TH AVATAR REMAKE LEAVE ME ALONE) and that shit was terrifying for him. And ... he mostly forgot about this as an adult (most things are blurry) but sometimes he has this...image in his dream but he can never quite lay his hands on it.

- It’s all stored in the right combination of being touch-starved and absolutely hating the idea of people touching your body. That doesn’t even feel like your body. That combination of thick hoodie under an actual leather jacket has big ‘don’t want to feel hands on me but still want to feel hugged’-vibes.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Sixty-One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

a/n: i’m baaaaaccckkkk. mama came home from vacation. she’s still tired, but she missed her babies too much to stay away. niall and sarah did a great job babysitting. let’s gooooooooooo

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

…a week or so later…

Harry was sleeping peacefully on his back with you resting your head on his chest. One of your legs was over his and you had an arm draped over his lower stomach. He woke up to the feeling of something wet on his thigh. It took him a second, but he swore he could feel you moving back and forth on him. He looked down to see your eyes screwed shut and teeth gritted. There were beads of sweat on your brow-line.

You were dreaming. You were having a steamy dream of you and Harry. You were riding him out in an open field of sunflowers. Your hair was flowing in the wind, and he wouldn’t stop telling you how beautiful you were.

When you gasp, Harry fully wakes up. He didn’t want to wake you, but he did want to have some fun with you. He raises his thigh slightly to add a little more pressure for you. He wanted to give you a little more friction. He wiggles his thigh from side to side as you continue to grind on him in your sleep.

“Harry.” You moan. He always wondered if you dreamt about him. He always had a hunch, but the small bit of confirmation was delightful.

His cock grows harder as you move faster on him. Your hand moves to grip at his throat and you squeeze it, causing him to choke slightly.

“Jesus.” He coughs, and you wake up immediately.

“Wh, what’s happening?!” You spring up and feel the wetness from your center stick against him. “Ew, oh my god, I’m so sorry, what was I doing?”

“You were…” He coughs again, you really grabbed his throat hard. “Grindin’ against my thigh. I was tryin’ to help yeh along, but you grabbed my throat and started choakin’ me. What were you dreamin’ about?”

“I was…um…riding you.” You rub your eyes.

“And did you choke me in your dream?”

“I…don’t remember.”

“Liar.” He smirks. “It’s okay, wanna choke me?”

“Harry, stop.”

“You’ve gripped my throat before, wanna do it a little harder? S’okay, if you do.”

“Harry, it’s like two in the morning.”

“Yeah?” He reaches between your legs to collect some of your wetness, and brings it up to his face. “Seems like you’re a little riled up. Let’s fix that, hm?” He sucks his fingers into his mouth then pulls you on top of him. “Got hard while you were goin’ to town on me.”

“We ran out of condoms.”

“Take your pill yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Gonna take it in a few hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then baby girl, nothin’ to worry about.” He kisses you tenderly.

“Fuck it, okay.”

You raise your hips and slide down on him.

“Holy shit!” Both of your eye brows raise at his exclamation. Harry would moan and groan, but in the almost eight months you had been together you had never heard him yell in such pleasure. “Haven’t fully felt yeh in so long.” You smirk at him.

You raise and lower yourself on him and his hands move to your hips to help you get a rhythm that suits the both of you. The way you were grinding on him brought you right back o the euphoric state you had while dreaming.

“Go ahead, angel, wrap that pretty little hand around me.”

You kiss him first and then slide your hand up to his throat. Did Harry like being choked, or did he just like that you wanted to do it to him? Your thumb brushes over his adam’s apple, and then you apply a little more pressure. He groans as he thrusts up into you, and your head rolls back. It felt so good to feel him without the barrier of the condom.

You weren’t grabbing him as hard as you had grabbed him while you were sleeping, he figured you just felt shy now and he wasn’t going to push you. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love when you were a little more dominant. His sweet baby girl liked to be rough, and it drove him crazy.

One of his hands dips between the two of you to rub your clit and that’s when you’re your grip tightens around him. You didn’t stop to think your fingers might leave lsting bruises, you were so far gone you couldn’t think about anything. He nearly gasps from the pressure on his throat, but he can handle it. He’d do anything to be able to see you the way you are now. Totally lost in pure ecstasy.

“Harry.” You groan. He feels you pulsate around him and he knows you’re close.

Another sharp thrust up into you and you come undone. You moan loudly and your voice cracks as he continues rubbing your clit as you get through your orgasm. Your grip on his throat loosens and you tuck your head into the crook of his neck.

“Will you, will you come on back?”

“Course.”

You lift off him and get on your stomach, lifting your ass in the air for him. He gives himself a few pumps before you feel his warmth all of over back and bum. You hear a few curse words leave his lips and then he sighs. He leans down to give you a kiss.

“Lemme get a rag, hang tight.”

Harry comes back a moment later with a warm rag to clean you up. You get up shortly after to use the toilet and then you return to him, spooning him and getting cozy.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” You whisper to him.

“Not at all, felt good. Do it anytime yeh want.”

You knew you’d be exhausted when you got up in a few hours for work, but this one of the many things you loved about having a boyfriend like Harry. You could wake up incredibly horny in the middle of the night, and he’d be right there to help take care of you.

//

Today was the first day you’d be starting your video chats with Mark to work on your big project. You weren’t looking forward to it in the slightest, but at least in another week or so you’d be in Aruba. Harry’s mum and sister decided to stay in the U.K. for Easter since they knew Harry would be really busy with work while you were gone. That just meant he’d be spending three weeks over there during the summer instead of two, not a big deal.

You were dreading the call with him. You made sure to wear a shirt with a high neckline so he’d have nothing to look at but your face. Niall came into your office with a deep frown.

“What’s up?”

“You’ll never who’s here…”

“No.”

“The three of ‘em…CEO is putting them up in a hotel so we can all work together in person. Said it would be more productive. They’re taking over the conference room as a shared office for the foreseeable future.”

“No!” You whine.

“We have to meet with them in ten minutes. Could be worse, at least you don’t have to share your office with him.”

“True.” You stand up and grab your laptop. “Can’t fucking wait for this all to be over and it hasn’t even started yet. Now I’m almost nervous about my vacation.”

“Don’t be, you’re leadin’ what you’re workin’ on. Leave a list of to do’s with me and I’ll make sure that’s all he does.”

“Thank you.”

You both walk out to the conference room. You see three men setting their things up. You wondered how they’d get anything done working in an open space, but you certainly weren’t going to question it. Your supervisor comes in and gives you all the run down for how things were going to work, when it’s over it’s around lunch, and Mark follows you down the hall to your office.

“Hey, I was thinking maybe we could grab a bite? It’ll give us more time to go over things, and –“ You both stop short when you see Harry standing in your office.

“Sorry, I already have lunch plans.” You close the door in his face. It was unprofessional, and a little rude, but you didn’t care.

“What’s he doin’ here?” He asks, wrapping his arms around you.

“They’re here for the foreseeable future. CEO thought it would be more efficient this way.” You roll your eyes. You look at him and kiss him. “Can we go for a walk or something, I need to clear my head.”

“Sure.” He smiles and kisses you again.

You go over to your desk and reach underneath for your sneakers and change your shoes. You give him a thumbs up and grab his hand as you leave the office. Niall shoots you both a smile and wave as you walk out.

“Were you tired this mornin’?”

“A little yeah…” You say blushing.

“Me too.” He walks with his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him. “But it’s the best kind of tired, you know?”

“Mhm.” You kiss him on the cheek.

“So you’re gonna have to spend a lot of time with that guy?”

“Unfortunately.” You groan. “At least I leave soon so it’ll break it up.”

“I know Niall’s there, hell, I know you can take care of yourself, but I’m a phone call or text away if you need me.”

“Thanks doll.” You give the hand on your shoulder a little squeeze, and continue your walk.

//

That afternoon Mark was in your office for hours. You were both going over different techniques you used while editing.

“Well, I use Vegas so…”

“Well, you’re going to learn Premiere because that’s what I use.” You tell him. “In fact, you’re supposed to use the Adobe products here since they’re paid for already. It’s really easy to learn. There’s tons of tutorials online. I’m sure someone as smart as you can pick it up.” You say smugly.

“Okay.”

“I think we should put a schedule or some type of calendar together for this. We’re going to be sent certain clips each day, so we need to get them into the sequence ready to go.”

“Makes sense to me.” He looks over his notes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Does your boyfriend always visit for lunch?”

“That’s not really an appropriate question to ask me.”

“Come off it will you, we’re not robots.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yes, he visits often, and sometimes I go to his work for lunch.”

“Right, he’s at Plant Geo?”

“Yes.” You look down then back to him. “Why do you care so much what I do with my personal time? We’re given an hour or so for lunch, and I’m allowed to do what I want during that time.”

“Never said you weren’t, I was just curious. Couple of the guys have girlfriends and they never see them during lunch. Usually too busy.”

“I use my time wisely during the work day. Plus, working through lunch is stupid, and doesn’t make you look better. It just shows poor time management if anything.”

“No, I just meant like they see them at home, ya know?”

“I see him at home too, we live together.”

“And you still visit during lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he, we miss each other during the day. And sometimes we both have late nights…we don’t meet up every day. When I don’t eat with him I eat with Niall.”

“Your ex?”

“I never dated him! I just told you I did because I wanted you to quit asking me to dance.”

“I was drunk.”

“No excuse. When someone tells you no, they should listen. You’re a good looking guy Mark, but you radiate douche-bag energy, and I’m just not here for it. So, while we’re working together I really would appreciate it if we didn’t talk about personal things. My goal at the end of this is to not have gained a new friend, okay?” His mouth was hanging open. No one had ever really talked to him like that before.

“Okay.”

That was that, and you get back to work. You notice the way he steals glances of you while you both work on your own computers, but you choose to ignore it. When you get home later Harry gives a relaxing back massage, knowing that you were stressed.

“You have magic hands, you know that?” You say as his thumbs press into your lower back as you both sit on the couch.

“I live to serve.” He jokes and you both laugh. “You’re so tense babe, full of knots. Maybe it’s time we get another massage together.”

“God that sounds amazing.” You sigh happily. “You know what would be relaxing too? Forever ago we talked about doing one of those wine and paint nights. That could be a really fun group date with everyone, don’t you think?”

“Yeah! Why don’t we see what everyone’s up to Friday night?”

“I’ll text in the group chat.”

Yes, the six of you had a group chat. Mariah was officially Rachel’s girlfriend now, and none of you saw her going anywhere anytime soon.

“Rachel should just teach the bloody class.” Harry chuckles. Your head rolls back as he works out a particular knot in your neck.

“Fuck.” You say. “Right there.” Your eyes screw shut as he applies a little more pressure.

“Poor thing.” He coos. “I should really buy some oil, give you a proper massage.”

“And get our things all gross?” You laugh. “This works just fine.”

//

Friday night rolls around and you couldn’t wait to hang out with all your friends. They had all agreed the wine and paint night would be fun, and to go to a late dinner afterwards.

You and Harry split and uber with Niall and Sarah.

“I’m begging the two of you, when we come home later, please don’t hump each other in the back of the car again.” Sarah says. “It was disgusting.” She says giggling. Before you can answer, Harry speaks.

“Can’t make any promises, sorry.” He winks at her.

“Make an effort then.” She sticks her tongue at him and he sticks it right back. You shake your head at the two of them with a smile.

You meet Rachel and Mariah at the place and you all head in. You each pick out the wine you want, and are given aprons to wear over your clothes. Harry helps you ties yours and you help him with his. Everyone else just sort of tied their own. Were the two of you cute or co-dependent? It was hard to tell from time to time.

You grab a stool and listen to the presenter who shows you what you’ll be painting. You all giggle and take sips of your wine. You’d be painting a lighthouse by the water. Not terribly difficult. Since you were left handed you had to be a little more careful than the others so you wouldn’t smudge anything. Harry watched as you took your first strokes. You always did everything with precision.

“Everyone look over here.” Sarah says. She had her phone up to take a group selfie. You all smile.

The painting was a lot of fun, and super relaxing. Of course Rachel’s painting looked the best. Yours was okay. Harry’s came out beautifully.

“Looks great, love.” He says, admiring your work.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No! I mean it, your shadows look good.” You give him a kiss on the cheek.

You’re told that the paintings will be stored to dry, and that you could come pick them up during the week if you wanted. The six of you head out to a pub for dinner. There were more drinks and lots of bar food. Harry kept his arm around you as he always did. He was more relaxed than usual. He liked having Mariah around. Someone else to talk to when Niall would join in on the girl talk.

“Y/N, are we still going to the mall tomorrow?” Sarah asks.

“Yup, was thinking we could leave around eleven.”

“Sounds good.”

“What are yeh shoppin’ for?”

“Just need to pick up some things. Rach, you’re still coming?”

“Yup, I’m gonna meet you two there.”

“You’ll be busy at an engagement shoot tomorrow anyways, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mariah, do you a lot of freelance work?” Niall asks her.

“A little here and there, not as much as H though.”

“Okay, I need to ask.” Sarah starts. “What is with H? How does that nickname get started?”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing actually.” You say.

“I don’t know when it started. S’not like I said call me H or anythin’.” He shrugs.

“I feel like I heard someone call you H and it just stuck.” Mariah explains.

“More formal.” He says. “Niall never calls me H.”

“Nope, always Harry.”

You lean into him, feeling slightly tipsy. You decide to switch to water for the rest of the time at the pub. This time in the uber home, Sarah and Niall take the way back seat, but it didn’t stop Harry from nibbling on your neck and whispering in your ear to make you giggle. It was a great night.

“Night guys, see you tomorrow Sarah.” Harry has it arms wrapped around you to hold you from behind.

“Night, just text me before it’s time to go.” She says and nod.

You and Harry head up to your apartment, and practically race off to the bedroom. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, all over you. His hands cup your cheeks and he brings you in for a deep kiss. He walks you into the bedroom and presses you up against the wall next to the door. Your tongues mold together, and you’re in pure bliss.

His hands move to the hem of your shirt, breaking your kiss only for a moment to lift it off of you. He unhooks your bra with ease, and lets it fall to the floor. He takes his won shirt off and pulls you close to him so your breasts are pressed tightly to his chest. He kisses your jawline and moves to the skin just under your ear, sucking it in between his teeth and biting down.

“Oh god.” You moan, hands flying up to his hair.

“Need to taste you tonight.”

He picks you up and puts you on the bed, yanking your jeans and panties off. You giggle as he spreads your legs apart. He kisses down your chest, stomach, and hips. He kisses your inner thigh and leaves a few love bites behind as his tongue trails to your center. He licks a flat stripe up to your clit, and starts to suck on you. Your head slams back into the mattress. He’s done this to you more times than you can count, but it always felt like the first time. A vast amount of pleasure sweeps over you, and you gasp when you feel two of his fingers plunge up inside you, curling right away. Harry knew where your sweetest spot was. His mouth continues on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Harry.” You whimper.

He pumps faster, and flicks his tongue back and forth on your clit. He feels you clench around him, he knows your close. Your stomach tightens, and your back arches as you come undone. He takes his fingers out and laps up everything while you come, only adding to the wonderful sensation.

You catch your breath as he moves to hover over you. He takes one of your nipples between his lips, and sucks on it.

“Wanna, ngh, return the favor.”

“Later, need to be inside you now.”

He spreads you back apart and lines himself up with you. He slowly pushes inside. You gasp as his throbbing cock enter you. You pull him down close to you as be begins to move, rocking his hips against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, and cross them at your ankles.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans in your ear.

“Keep talking, love when you do this.” Your nails scratch at his back.

“You like havin’ my cock inside you?”

“Yes, it’s so big.”

“Yeh like the way I stretch you out?”

“God, yes.” One of his hands moves between where you’re connected to rub your clit. “You know my body so well.” You moan. “Always give me just what I need.”

“That’s right, always here to take care of you.” He moves to make eye contact with you as he pinches your clit and feels the beginning of your orgasm take over.

Your mouth parts as you look at him. He wants to watch every emotion you go through as you come, and you intend to show him. You nails sink further into his back and he knows he’s almost done for.

“Want you to come on my tits Harry, will you do that?” You say as you come down from your high.

He pulls out of you, and you squish your boobs together to give him a better target. That was all he needed before he released on you. You moan when you feel the heat of him on your skin. He collapses next to you and tries to catch his breath.

“Look at me babe.” You turn your head to face him. He was laying on his side. “I’ll clean yeh up in a second, but…”

“What baby?”

“Are yeh havin’ me come on you so much because you’re still afraid of me comin’ inside? I’m not complainin’ cause it’s so fuckin’ hot, but…”

“It’s just that we never do it is all…and yeah I’m still a little nervous, but at least I’m over using condoms right? Small steps.” You smile and he kisses you.

“I do like the way you look with my jizz all over you.” He smirks and gets up to grab a rag. He comes back over and cleans you up.

“Yeah, you like it when I’m dirty, huh?”

“Now, I have to go to sleep so I can get up on time, so none of that.” He gives your bum a little smack as you roll over after he’s done cleaning you up. He gets in with you and faces you.

“Oh, so I can’t be your dirty girl?” You giggle.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

//

Harry got up early, as much as he just wanted to lay in the warm bed with you, put on a nice outfit, and headed to the engagement shoot that was an hour or so away. You got up shortly after, showered, and texted Sarah. She met you down at your car.

“Thanks again for coming with, definitely need your opinions on what I want to buy.”

“No problem! You know I’ll never turn down a shopping trip. What do you need to get?”

“I’ll tell you once we’re with Rach.”

You both meet Rachel outside the main entrance of the mall, and walk in together. You lead them to a lingerie store.

“So…” You start blushing. “While Harry was in Florida a while ago, I found these pictures he had taken of himself…they were intimate.” You cough nervously as they nod. “He had mentioned he wanted to take pictures of me like that sometime, so since I’m leaving at the end of next week, I thought I would surprise him and let him take picture of me before I go.”

“Hot!” Rachel says.

“But I need your help picking out some outfits. I want to look sexy, but…I don’t know…elegant? I want it to feel like one of his professional shoots, only I’ll be wearing minimal clothing.”

“We’re on the case.” Sarah says. “Everyone, divide and conquer, we’ve got some work to do.”

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 7

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Cursing, drinking, fluff!

Word Count: 8,000

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it.

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with chapter 6

“I swear I’ve never seen it,” you said.

“How can that possibly be true? That makes zero sense. You did go to elementary school, right? I’m pretty sure I watched that a few times when we had a substitute in fifth and sixth grade,” Chris exclaimed.

“Har-har. Yes, I went to elementary school, but you are a few years older than me Mr. Evans. Must not have been as popular by the time I was in fifth or sixth grade.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed. “M’not that much older than you. You were born in the eighties and the Princess Bride is an essential piece of classic cinema.”

“The numbers still count,” you chided.

“We’re watching it. And you’re going to like it,” Chris sternly said.

“Well you better visit. Otherwise you won’t be able to enforce that...what are we calling this? A punishment?” you offered.

The two of you had been back on your daily phone calls for the last few weeks. It felt as though you had never stopped. A part of you did worry that he would revert back to the acquaintance like relationship the two of you had the last four months if he started dating someone again. The two of you really need to have that conversation to completely clear the air. You and Chris talked about everything, just not about Courtney and Ethan. It was as though the last four months didn’t exist. You hated the idea of bringing in any negative energy to your friendship, but avoiding it felt worse.

“Punishment? Sweetheart, you’re hurting my heart,” he sighed. “And I’m working on that. Almost done filming.”

You perked up instantly. Chris visiting sounded like a dream. In a friendship way, of course. Maybe both Evans brothers liked dance parties. You’d just have to wait and see.

“Ahuh. I’ll believe it when I see it,” you replied.

“I don’t see you coming to Boston,” he retorted.

“It’s not Fall, babe. I have specific instructions on when to visit this national treasure.”

“We’ll see.”

 Screaming. That’s all you could hear and make yourself do. Sea World Orlando was hosting a media day to preview their new coaster Barracuda. This was not a fun family coaster like the Disney parks had, minus Everest of course. But this coaster was on a completely different playing field than Everest. It had a chest harness for goodness sake. A chest harness!

This is how I die.

You rarely covered actual ride openings, with the exception of Rise of the Resistance back in December. Okay, really you covered all ride openings at Disney. But in general, when it came to all other theme parks it was new lands, restaurants, hotels, that kind of thing. You especially didn’t cover coasters. This sort of thing was often saved for the local morning news channels. Sea World invited you out personally, and since you didn’t want to stop getting invites to their various food and music festivals, you accepted.

The ride started by being catapulted forward, then into a barrel roll, a loop, and to make master worse, the coaster rotated and it ended in a drop going backward.

You were given a card that allowed you two purchase five food and beverage offerings, but after riding Barracuda, you were feeling a bit green. Using one of your punches for a bottle of water, you quickly found some shade and sat down. You may have dry heaved. Thank goodness the spot you found was a little secluded.

Grabbing another chair, you put your feet up and tried to relax as best you could in a theme park nearing the end of May. Many schools were already on summer break, so the parks were definitely picking up on visitors. Fishing your phone out of your crossbody, you saw that you had a text from Brooks. He had officially left the Sentinel three months ago, but made it a game to text you random work-related questions almost daily.

Brooks: Can you run down to the first floor and grab that package their holding for me? I’m swamped.

Y/N: I’m on assignment smartass. How’s working from home?

Brooks: Glorious. I showered this morning and put my sweats back on.

Y/N: I’m sure that gets Jana’s engine roaring.

Brooks: I don’t believe you’ve seen me in sweats. I look damn fine.

Y/N: Gross

Brooks: 😈

Brooks: Lunch on Wednesday?

Y/N: Yes, but wear actual pants

Brooks: Maybe

 During your lunch date with Brooks, which you somehow got suckered into buying, Brooks told you that he and Scott were kind of friends and had been texting since he left Orlando almost a month ago. The two of them had exchanged numbers when you and Jana were in the bathroom. Per Brooks, one of their favorite things to talk about was you. Of course. You’d have to think of some way to get them back.

 It was suddenly Monday again, funny how that happens, and you were busy editing your latest article when your phone buzzed with a call on your desk. Seeing Chris’ name, you swiped to answer it.

“Hey babe.”

“Hi sweetheart. How was your weekend? Sorry I didn’t call,” he replied.

“I’m good. And no biggie. I had other boys to entertain me,” you said.

There were no boys. But he didn’t have to know that. You had to give it to him when you could.

“Boys, huh? Well, it’s a good thing you got a man right here.”

I walked right into that one.

If you could audibly swoon, you would have done it.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Hmm. Okay.”

“Listen, last minute trip this weekend. My mom is taking my niece and nephews to Disney World. Could you meet up with me?”

“Um…”

“I wasn’t even going to go, but I figured my ma could use the help and thought maybe we could hangout. If you wanted to, I mean,” he quickly added.

Of course, you wanted to see Chris. You’d be crazy not to. All this time talking on the phone, even when you weren’t talking, all you thought about was seeing him face to face. But goodness, do you feel queasy all of a sudden.

“Like, Friday or Saturday?” you asked.

“We get in Friday morning and leave Monday morning,” he said.

“Wouldn’t I just get in the way of your family time? I don’t want to intrude.”

“No way. I want to see you. Besides, I need a ride buddy. We have an uneven number,” Chris said.

You could just see him beaming, perfect grin and all.

“I could meet you Saturday, I need to be in the office on Friday for a meeting.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment and you worried he had a change of heart.

“Ye-yeah, that works. I was hoping to see you sooner, but I’ll take what I can get,” he said.

“Geez, Evans. Really turning up the flirting, huh?”

Oh, shit. Did I really just say that?

Chris was flirty. Even Scott said he was. The two of you were nothing more than friends. Sometimes even great friends.              

It was his turn to let out a nervous chuckle. “Maybe,” he replied simply enough.

“Where am I meeting you?” you asked.

“Let me check with my ma, and I’ll text you the details when it gets closer to Saturday.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you replied.

“Now, tell me about these boys that were entertaining you,” he teased.

“You wouldn’t know them,” you teased right back.

 As the days inched closer to Saturday, you became more and more nervous. Like, palms sweating nervous. To your dismay, Scott was not joining his family on this trip, so you wouldn’t have him as your go to in case you spazzed out or said something stupid. Was this just friends meeting up or was this possibly something more? That’s what you couldn’t reason through. You didn’t dare ask Scott. That family shared way too much with each other for you to say anything about Chris. It would no doubt get back to him making Saturday more awkward than it was already was. Your logical side said this was just you hanging out with your buddy Chris. That’s all this was. Chris split his time between L.A. and Boston. You were all the way in Orlando. While you had vacation funds, you didn’t have funds to fly out once or twice a month to meet up with someone. This couldn’t possibly be anything more. But the romantic side of you fantasized about this being something more. Even for just a day.

 Chris sent you a text Friday morning when you were still in bed. It was seven in the morning and he apparently was wide awake.  

Chris: It's Friday, Friday Gotta get down on Friday Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend

Holy geez.

You should have silenced your phone before going to bed. That wasn’t worth waking up to, even if it was from Chris.

Y/N: How do you even know that song?

Chris: Everyone knows that song.

Chris: I’m at the airport getting ready to board.

Y/N: Have a safe flight. I’m going back to bed.

Chris: Sassy…be more excited!

Y/N: Goodnight. Love you.

“What the fuck did I just type?!” you shouted, sitting straight up in your bed.

Even though you were tired, you never imagined being stupid enough to type that. Sure, you said that Jana, Brooks, even Scott, but that felt different. This was completely different. It came out so easily and you and Chris just never said that to each other. You couldn’t think of a way to back track that sentence. Seconds ticked by and you still had no clue.

The phone dinging with a new message catching your attention.

Chris: LOL love you too

LOL? How do I take that? At least he didn’t freak out about your response.

Well, now you couldn’t fall back to sleep. Instead you laid in bed contemplating the simple text you received. It was going to be a long day.

 Chris had sent you a few texts throughout the day. He and his family were at Magic Kingdom and were apparently hitting every ride. It sounded both fun and exhausting. He sent you a reminder text just as you were getting out of work to meet at Epcot at ten tomorrow. Epcot was your favorite park, but mainly for the drinking in various “countries” aspect. You imagined it would be quite a different day with kids in tow. Besides, you weren’t planning on drinking a drop of alcohol while out with the Evans clan. You didn’t want his mom to think you were a partier because you totally weren’t. Having a glass of wine after a tough day or out with friends once a month didn’t mean you drank a lot by any means.

You gave Scott a call when you got home. It was much earlier than your normal call time, but your nerves were shot and he was usually pretty good about grounding you.

“What’s wrong? he asked.

“What makes you think anything’s wrong?” you replied, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Being that you’re calling me five hours earlier than you usually do, I’m pretty sure something’s up.”

You let out a breath. Damn him being so preceptive.

“I’m meeting up with your brother tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. We’ve already talked about that.” Scott said.

“It’s just…I’m just so nervous about it. I really wish you were going to be here,” you whined.

“It’s Chris! You guys are friends. What are you even nervous about Sassy? You and I hung out all weekend alone. I didn’t pick up on any nervous energy from you then,” he said.

“You’re right. It’s dumb. Never mind.”

“The two of you are dumb. Now, tell me what’s really going on,��� he demanded.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying,” you groaned.

“You’re so annoying,” he mimicked.

“Chris and I were barely friends for what, like almost four months? Yeah, we texted, but weren’t close, barely spoke on the phone. And now we’re close again and it’s great, because if I’m being honest, I really missed him. But I’m just worried that seeing him will change things. I know that sounds stupid, but what if he meets me and decides I’m boring. Or I’m nothing special and he’s wasted all this time getting to know me. You and I never had a break, so it didn’t feel awkward to spend time with you. Plus, your mom, niece and nephews will be there. It’s just added pressure,” you spit out all at once.

“You done now?” Scott asked.

“Jerk,” you replied.

“Finally,” he said, choosing to ignore you. “First off, you are not boring. If he isn’t bored already, he’s not going to be. I didn’t tell you this because your head is big enough, but you are pretty terrific. I promise I’m not coming on to you, but you need to know I had a such a great time with you. I was there to cheer you up, instead, you gave me a fabulous weekend. We were already close, but that weekend brought us closer. And don’t even worry about my family, my mom is going to love you. This weekend is only going to cement you and Chris’ friendship. Trust me.”

Scott is amazing and you are damn lucky to have him. Not only were you feeling better, you were kind of bummed you didn’t try to hang out with Chris tonight. It was fine though. Work was a little stressful and your hair was doing that weird thing it sometimes does. That’s not a first, no, second impression you wanted to make.

 After parking your car in the parking lot at Epcot, you took a few moments to calm your breathing. Fixing a couple smudges from your mascara in the rearview mirror, you took one final deep breath before getting out of the car.

It was nine forty five in the morning and it was already eighty degrees out. Temps were set to rise to close to ninety. Why the Evans clan didn’t take trips in the winter was beyond you. The crowds were generally lighter in early January and the weather was a lot more comfortable, but who were you to judge? You lived here year-round. Jana suggested wearing a cute sundress, but knowing it was going to be hot and you’d be running around with a few kids, dressing up didn’t seem sensible. You opted for jean shorts, a light gray tee with Mickey on the front, and a pair of slip on sneakers. The outfit was cute, but it didn’t make it seem like you were trying too hard.

Y/N: I’m here!

You made your way through bag check, skipping the line by stuffing your keys, license, and credit card in your front pockets.

Making your way to Spaceship Earth, you stopped in your tracks when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Chris: Just grabbing a couple of those spray mister fans for the kids. They’re already hot.

Chris: Where are you?

Y/N: In front of Spaceship Earth.

Minutes ticked by without a response from Chris. With one hand holding your phone, the other anxiously kept touching your hair. The humidity was already in high gear so you kept touching it, making sure it wasn’t being temperamental.

Clicking on the camera app, you switched the camera to selfie mode and used it like a mirror to check your hair and overall appearance. And then you saw him. He was attempting to sneak up behind you but failing as you could see him just slightly in frame of your camera. You didn’t mean to, but you had memorized that smile. You snapped a quick picture before turning around and startling him.

“Boo!” you shouted.

“Jesus! How’d you know I was here?”

You turned your phone to face him, showing him the selfie you captured with him in the background.

“Our first picture together,” you teased.

He grabs your phone out of your hand, throwing an arm around your shoulder. He snaps a picture, his megawatt smile on full display. In the one you captured, he was unprepared, and this one was no different, you were unprepared. So now you have two selfies on your phone with neither turning out just right.

You pull away slightly, grabbing your phone back.

“Can you warn a girl? I’d like to be prepared to take a picture. You know, maybe slap a smile on my face,” you scolded, smile peeking out even though you were trying to come across as serious.

He shakes his head at you.

“It’s nice to see you too, Sassy.”

You offer him a smile and take a step forward to hug him. The two of you don’t quite have the coordination down. Arms and shoulders bumping each other while you switch the position of your hands and finally get it right. He pulls you in tight, the brim of his ballcap hitting your forehead. The two of you chuckle at the exchange before pulling away.

He’s dressed casual in black basketball shorts, navy blue tee, sneakers, black ballcap low on his face. Even dressed so casually, he’s very easy on the eyes. Your tummy does a summersault as he takes you in.

Chris almost reaches for your hand, but then remembers that your surrounded by hundreds of onlookers who may have not noticed who he is yet, but could at any moment.

“Shall we?” he asks.

You nod your head and follow beside him, the two of you weaving in and out of the morning crowd. He stops next to a cart selling bottle water and misting fans. A woman you assume is his mother is next to three kids, all playing with their own misting fans.

“Ma,” he said, causing the woman to look up. “This is my friend Y/N. Y/N, this is my mother Lisa.”

You extend your hand for her to shake. She reaches out and does the same, offering you a smile, but it seems hesitant.

“Nice to meet you,” you offered.

“You as well,” Lisa replied.

“And these munchkins are Stella, Ethan, and Miles.” Chris said, pointing to each as he said their names. “This is my friend Y/N.”

“Hi guys!” you greet, waving at them with your hand.

The three of them all offer you a wave back.

“Should we go finding something fun to do?” Chris asked, mainly to the kids but he does glance at you and his mother.

A chorus of yeahs are said along with a fist bump or two. Chris grabs Stella and Miles’ hands and starts to walk, Ethan and Lisa walk along side of them while you trail a couple of steps behind.

The six of you make your way to Test Track where a cast member is waiting for your party. He introduces himself as Michael before leading your party through a side door you had never paid attention to before. There’s a whole design your own virtual car experience that you end up skipping since you are skipping the ride queue. Michael leads you to the side of the platform that the ride exits from. You wait one cycle before you’re allowed to load into the car. There are three seats in the front and three in the back. Chris gets into the front sliding all the way over, Stella gets into the middle seat and you next to Stella. Lisa, Miles, and Ethan slide into the backseat. Once everyone’s seatbelt is in place, the car advances forward.

As the car goes through twists, turns, and sudden stops, Stella giggles next to you while you hear Lisa say “oh no!” a few times from the back. You look at Chris who is grinning like a fool. He throws his hands in the air when the car flies through doors that open last second, leading you to a track that runs the outside perimeter of the building. The car reaches a peak speed of sixty-five miles per hour which isn’t necessarily fast on the open road, but in a convertible without a wheel or brakes, it’s pretty intense and fun. Your hair of course is shot. The wind having taken it in all sorts of directions.

The next attraction you hit is Mission: Space. Lisa opts to sit this one out with Stella, leaving you, Chris, Miles, and Ethan to ride the orange side. The orange side spins an extraordinary amount as it makes its way to Mars, while the green side is a lot tamer. The boys all wanted the orange side, so who are you to complain.

As the four of you file out the exit with Michael leading you, Miles complains that his tummy hurts. Chris picks him up and carries him the rest of the way to meet Lisa and Stella.

“I think we need to take a break. Miles isn’t feeling too well,” Chris said.

Lisa places, her hand on Miles’ head. “Are you not feeling well, sweetheart?” she asked.

He shakes his head no.

“There’s a shady spot with some tables over there,” you said, pointing to your left.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Chris said.

“I’ll grab some waters and meet you all over there,” Michael said before dashing off.

Chris pushes a couple of the small tables together while you grab an extra chair. Michael is back before you know it, carrying a bag filled with water bottles. He takes them out of the bag one by one setting them between the two tables.

“Chris, why don’t you and your friend go on without us,” Lisa offers.

“No, Ma. I’m sure it was just the spinning. He’ll be fine in a few. Besides, I don’t think he’s letting me go anytime soon.”

Miles clings to Chris as he sits on his lap. It’s the sweetest scene, seeing Chris hold onto Miles, while gently touching his forehead, brushing his har to the side. But you can’t help feeling like you’re intruding. While Lisa has been nice, she hasn’t given you the most welcoming vibes and you can’t miss the way her body is angled, essentially leaving you out of the conversation.

Only a few minutes have passed when you start to notice that a woman at a table a few away from your group is taking pictures with her phone. She isn’t being sneaky by any means. You’re really wishing you would have worn a ballcap today to hide your face. You don’t particularly care if your face ends up in a photo with Chris, but you don’t want to have him deal with that. October wasn’t that long ago, so you in another picture with Chris at Disney will only lead to more rumors. You turn slightly in your seat so that you’re facing away from him.

“Something wrong, Y/N?” he asked.

“Someone’s taking pictures.”

“Of course. Fuck,” he mutters before quickly closing his mouth, forgetting that Miles is right there.

He stands up, still carrying Miles.

“Michael, can we find another spot?” Chris asked.

Lisa gets the other two kids to grab their bottles of water and out of their seats.

“Yes, Mr. Evans. Follow me please,” Michael answered.

He leads your group through a maze of turns, eventually entering into a door labeled “Cast Members Only”.

“Well just hang out here for a few minutes. I’m sure Miles needs the air conditioning,” Chris said.

The six of you plus Michael stand in a wide hallway just past the door. There’s a row of lockers on the wall with various open doors you can see in the distance. It’s a bit uncomfortable standing there and with no one speaking it’s downright awkward for you.

After a few minutes, Miles starts to perk up. Chris sets him down on his feet and Lisa asks if anyone is hungry.

The kids all agree that they are suddenly starving.

“Michael, is there any reservations available at Coral Reef or Garden Grill?” Lisa asked.

“I’m sure I can find something,” Michael said, pulling out his phone. “For six?”

“Just five,” she replied.

“Ma! Y/N is joining us.” Chris said.

“Oh, I didn’t know if she was spending all day with us or just the morning,” Lisa replied.

Well, now you know that uncomfortableness was with reason.

“It’s okay. I’m actually going to take off,” you said, patting your pocket to make sure you had your keys.

“Sweetheart, no. Stay with us.” He takes your arm and pulls you down the hallway a bit. “Have lunch with us. You’re welcome to. I want you to.”

You look back to his mom who quickly looks away. It’s a family trip so while she’s been a bit cold, you understand that she doesn’t know you and is probably protective of her family.

“That’s alright. This is your family trip and I’m a bit tired. I didn’t sleep so well last night,” you lied. “You guys go have a nice lunch. Call me before going to bed tonight.”

You pull Chris into a hug before he can protest. He places a kiss on your forehead before you pull away. He has a sad smile on his face that you try your best not to match.

As you walk past the group, heading to the door, you stop in front of Lisa.

“It was nice to meet you.”

“You too dear,” she replied.

“Have fun guys!” you said to three kids before pushing open the door, the sun slightly blinding you for a moment.

 Sitting at home and sulking was doing nothing to brighten your mood. Frankly, you felt like shit. You felt bad for leaving the park without spending nearly enough time with Chris. And you felt bad for not just pushing through the uncomfortable vibes Lisa was putting out. What if you would have stayed and she had gotten to know you? You were friends with both Scott and Chris, there may come a time where you would see her again and now it’s going to be just as weird.

Scott texted you around dinner time.

Scott: How’d today go? Did you and Chris get matching ears?

Y/N: It went fine.

There. That was a reasonable answer. It was fine. Sure, you only saw Chris for like two or so hours, and they were mostly fine.

Your phone buzzed in your hand. Of course, it was Scott.

“Look at you calling me so early,” you answered.

“What do you mean fine? That’s it? All this build up to fine.”

“It was just weird and I made it weirder by leaving early,” you sighed out.

“Why’d you leave early?” Scott asked.

“It just seemed like your mom didn’t want me there. And I don’t blame her. It’s a family trip and who the hell am I really?” you quickly spit out.

“Hey! I’m sure that’s not how she felt. You’re one of my best friends, she knows that. I’m sure somehow this is Chris’ fault. I’ll call you back.”

“No, Scott. You don’t have to do that,” you said.

But he didn’t reply back. The little shit hung up on you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scott hit the contact button for Chris, the ring sounding too many times for Scott’s patience.

“Hey, Scott,” Chris answered.

“Hey, jerk,” Scott replied.

“Why am I a jerk? Jerk!”

“I just talked to Sassy. Doesn’t sound like it went well. What happened?”

Chris sighed. “Yeah, it could have been better. Miles didn’t feel well and it kind of just went downhill from there.”

Scott groaned. “That’s too bad. She mentioned something about Ma not wanting her there.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I mean, she wasn’t acting like they were best friends. They just didn’t get a lot of time to get to know each other. Sassy’s just overthinking it,” Chris said.

“Yeah…You’re probably right. It’s just too bad you didn’t get a lot of time together.”

“Me too,” Chris said softly.

“Have a good day tomorrow.”

“Thanks, bud. Bye,” Chris said.

“Bye,” Scott said, ending the call.

“What’s going on with Sassy?” Lisa asked, startling Chris.

“Geez Ma! Ya scared me,” Chris hissed.

Lisa chuckled at her son’s response, putting her hands up. “Sorry.”

“She’s just disappointed with how today went,” Chris replied, running a hand through his hair.

“I didn’t even know you knew Sassy,” Lisa said.

“What are you talking about?” Chris asked, suddenly really confused.

“Well, Scott talks about Sassy all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention her.”

“Ma, you’re giving me a headache. I introduced you to Sassy today. What are you going on about?” Chris asked.

“Christopher, are you telling me that Y/N is Sassy?”

“Yes!” Chris half chuckled, half groaned out.

“Oh no.” she mumbled. “I didn’t know they were one in the same! Christopher, I thought she was just some girl you met. I didn’t know she was Scott’s good friend Sassy!” Lisa exclaimed.

“Well, geez Ma. Thinkin’ so highly of me that I’d bring around just some girl on a family trip.” Chris said, running his hand through his hair once again.

“You boys don’t tell me these things. Now I feel so bad. Please apologize to her for me. Actually, you should apologize as well,” Lisa said.

“Me? What did I do?” Chris shouted.

“You didn’t make her stay,” she said matter-of-factly. “Take her out tomorrow. Go spend time with your friend. I can handle the kids just fine.”

Lisa left the room, calling out to the kids who were suddenly too quiet in one of the bedrooms.

Chris hung his head low. His mother was right. This was his first time he’s seen you since your quick meeting last fall. He didn’t want to go home leaving today as your only impression.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scott had sent you a simple text that made you smile a short while later.

Scott: My brother’s a bone head

Y/N: Not disagreeing

 The last Hallmark Christmas movie you saved to your DVR was playing on the TV. Something about a singer who was trying to catch his big break and ends up skipping Christmas. By now they storylines were all starting to blur together. Your phone buzzed with a message, dragging your eyes away from the TV.

Chris: You float like a feather In a beautiful world I wish I was special You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here

What’s he going on about?

Y/N: Radiohead?

Your phone rang about a half a second later.

“So, you’re a creep huh?” you answered.

“Feeling like one,” Chris sighed out. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wanted our day to be better.”

“Babe, it’s fine. It wasn’t bad. I’m sure you’ll be in town again,” you replied.

“My mother says sorry by the way. She didn’t realize you were THE Sassy. Apparently, Scott goes on and on about you.”

You chuckled at that. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“My mother doesn’t think to highly of me as she thought you were just someone I met and asked to hangout with us,” he groaned.

“I didn’t think my Mickey tee gave off that vibe,” you chuckled out. “Tell her it’s fine and it was still nice to meet her.”

“You are such a sweetheart,” Chris said.

There goes your stomach again. You really wished that hug earlier wasn’t so short and sloppy.

“I was wonderin’ if I could see you again, tomorrow?”

“Oh, I don’t know Chris,” you said hesitantly.

“Please? Just the two of us. Just me and you. I want to see you again before I had back to Mass.”

“But it’s your family time and I don’t want to take away from that,” you reasoned.

“Sweetheart, my ma told me she can handle tomorrow by herself. Not that I don’t want to see you.” He lets out a breath. “I really want to see you.”

There’s so much conviction in his voice. It’s so gravely that your finding yourself gripping the side of the couch cushion to stay grounded.

“Okay,” you sputter out. Clearing your throat, you try that again. “Okay.” It’s firmer and much better than screaming “yes, please!”

“Great!” You can hear the smile in his voice which instantly puts one on your face. “Can you, ah, could you pick me up? We did a car service and I figure it’s probably easier if you just come and grab me?” he said.

“That’s not a problem. Dork.”

“Oh, are we back at that again? I’m pretty sure you were the one in a Mickey Mouse t-shirt today.”

You scoff. “Mickey is your idol. Don’t even!”

He chuckles low and deep. “You got me.”

 Since it’s just you and Chris and you aren’t running around a theme park, you chose a white t-shirt dress with navy blue stripes. You added a thin brown leather belt to give the dress some form and pair it with brown strappy flat sandals. You’re picking Chris up at the villa they rented at one and then off to lunch. He’s letting you pick since you live in the area. Adding a touch of gloss to your lips, you grab your bag and walk out to your car.

 After putting your car in park in the driveway, you fire off a text letting him know you’re there. Even though you received a sorry via Chris from Lisa, you didn’t want to chance another odd meeting. They probably were at the parks anyway, but you didn’t want to take that chance.

A minute later her comes jogging to your car. The goof. He’s dressed casually but put together in navy colored shorts and crisp white V-neck t-shirt. The fact that your coordinated doesn’t slip past you.

He gets in, immediately pulling you into a hug. Chris kisses your forehead for the briefest of moments before letting go. You manage a dopey smile because damn if you aren’t smitten. Generally, you are pretty quick on your feet and would have already had something witty to say, but that kiss, even though it was innocent, really threw you off.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak out.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You stare a little too long at his lips before shaking yourself out of it and slapping a smile on your face.

“So, lunch?” you asked.

 The two of you dine at Four Rivers Smokehouse which is one of your favorite spots for a quick bite. The food is always great with a good mix of people stopping by on their lunch break and families enjoying a meal out.

He chooses the ribs and you the brisket before grabbing a table in the corner, offering him the seat facing the wall, hoping it brings a little anonymity. The idea of being recognized in public didn’t even cross your mind as it’s not something you ever have to worry about. You regret your decision of choosing a restaurant with so many windows and frequent turn over. Despite your worries, Chris has not alluded to any discomfort as he happily eats his food. He’s added extra barbecue sauce to his ribs. Squeezing a bit from each of the six bottles at your table, sampling each one before choosing the one labeled ‘smoky’.

“This is really good. I mean, really good,” he said, sauce smeared around his lips.

He’s adorable and it takes everything in you not to reach forward to wipe the sauce from his face. You lick your own, it’s an involuntary action that his eyes get drawn too. At least you’re not the only one finding yourself distracted.

“I come here like once a week. But we keep that between me and you,” you said with a smirk. He chuckles before grabbing a napkin to wipe his face.

 Lunch has long been finished but the two of you stay seated at your table, enjoying just being together face to face. Your conversation is much like it is via phone call, but now you get to study each other’s facial expressions. Loving how his eyes crinkle when he really smiles. How his eyebrows raise when he gets serious. He’s a work of art and doesn’t even realize it.

It’s already four in the afternoon and the restaurant is in that between time after the lunch crowds and before the dinner rush. You somehow manage to remove your eyes from his and see that there are only two other tables occupied.

“I didn’t realize we’ve been here for so long,” you said, stretching your arms. “I’m also impressed you didn’t get any of that sauce on your white shirt.”

Chris chuckles and shakes his head. He reaches his hand across the table, taking yours in his.

“I don’t want to say goodbye yet.”

“We can go back to my place,” you offer, your face instantly heating up at the implication. “I mean, because I live nearby. Not that you need to come back with me. I-I just want to hangout longer,” you stutter out.

Chris smiles wide, squeezing your hand a few times. “Let’s go hangout.”

 “Cheers!” Chris said, clinking his bottle of beer against yours.

It’s the second bottle for both of you, but probably the last for you as you still need to drive him back and the whole “not drinking for a long time” promise you made yourself.

“Cheers,” you echo before taking a long pull from the bottle.

“Didn’t picture you the beer drinker, Y/N.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that Mr. Evans?”

“Mr. Evans? Someone’s mighty formal,” he said. You shrug your shoulders in response before taking another sip. “You just seem like wine is more your speed. Perhaps raspberry vodka,” he chuckles out.

“I could just kill your brother,” you groan out. “Pretty sure I have at least a third of the bottle left in my fridge if you want any.”

Chris shakes his head, taking a drink of beer. “I’ll leave that for you.”

“So, kind. So, kind,” you snicker.

He’s reclined on your couch while you sit in your comfy blue armchair, feet folded up under you. Chris is skimming through the music on your phone, picking a new song after the last is done rather than letting it play through.

“You wanna sync your phone to my speakers? We can play something from your phone,” you offered.

“Nah, I like a lot of your stuff.”

You hold your hand in front of your face and pretend to blow on your nails while winking at him, in that “I’m too cool” kind of way.

 The sun is starting to set and you have a good view of the painted sky from your backyard. It’s still plenty warm, but with the sun down and your ceiling fan on, the two of you are comfortable sitting on your loveseat on the lanai snacking on pizza rolls because that’s all that you had that didn’t require defrosting.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Chris said.

“Yeah, it’s not a bad view to have. Should’ve had you bring your suit. It was hard to drag Scott out of the pool,” you replied.

“How’d you put up with him the whole weekend?” Chris asked. He said it so seriously, but you can see a hint of a smile.

“Well, I’ve managed so far with you, so I can pretty much handle anything.”

He bumps you with his shoulder and shakes his head. “So, sassy.”

“That’s what they call me.”

“Who’s they?” Chris smirks.

“Just you and Scott.”

You let out a little chuckle and you notice those eye crinkles reappear.

“Good,” he agrees.

 It’s late, nearing eleven. Chris stopped drinking after three beers, the two of you switching over to water.

“You want to watch a movie?” Chris asked.

You had gone back to your living room an hour prior. Sitting in opposite corners of the couch, but facing each other, your foot bumps his leg once in awhile causing you both to blush.

“Don’t you have to get back? You have an early flight, right?”

“Not until eleven thirty. We can go if you want me to or if you’re getting tired, but I rather stay here with you,” he replied, sincerity in his voice.

Fuck. He’s going to be the death of me.

Honestly, you’d stay up for the next two days if it meant spending time together. And the fact that he wants to stay makes you want to weep tears of joy. But that’s just a little too dramatic.

“I want you to stay.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you agree, lightly slapping his bent leg resting on the couch cushion.

He grabs your hand before you can pull it away, holding it there, just resting on his leg. You shyly look up and see him looking at you. The only words that matches the two of you is heart eyes and you pray that you aren’t imaging it.

After what feels like several minutes but more like mere seconds, your mouth opens up and you break the spell.

“What do you want to watch?”

Chris lets go of your hand and your heart instantly crashes at the loss of contact.

“I think you know,” he replied. Your mouth quirks to the side while you try to figure him out. “Come on! You know.”

You put on a fake annoyed look and shake your head. “Really? Do we have to?”

“I’m pretty sure you said if I visited, we’d watch it,” Chris said.

“Fine. I’m a woman of my word,” you said.

Grabbing the Roku remote, you clicked on your Amazon app, finding The Princess Bride, and renting before Chris could offer you five dollars to pay for it.

“I’m the host! I don’t need your money babe,” you reasoned.  

The movie played on and you slowly found yourself leaning on Chris more and more. Not that he minded. The closer you got, the more hands on he became. Half way through, you were completely laying on his chest, both your legs out stretched on the couch while his rest on the floor. His left arm is stationary on the arm of the couch while the other was wrapped around you. Your right hand laid on his chest as your fingers lightly rub it without even realizing you were doing so. Chris would quietly hum now and then, bringing a smile to your face.

Friends cuddle. They totally do.

Before you even reach the end of the movie, you’ve fallen asleep. So much for seeing it all the way through. Chris readjusted so that the two of you are laying comfortably.

You awake sometime later to Chris brushing his hand through your hair. The TV is still on but nothing is playing.

“M’sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

You sit up slightly, taking in his tired eyes. He looks back at you adoringly.

“It’s okay. I’ll make you watch it again next time,” he said softly.

The words next time make you beam inside. You sit up, setting your feet on the floor.

“Want me to bring you home?”

“Nah, we’re both too tired. Take me in the morning?” he asked.

“Of course. Do you want to go to bed? What time is it anyway?”

“I think about three.” Chris sits up on the couch, running a hand down his face. “I’m actually a little more awake after our nap,” he quietly chuckled.

“You want to pull an all-nighter?” Well, kind of all-nighter since we did sleep for a little bit.”

“Yeah, if you’re not too tired,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, shit! Did you tell your mom you weren’t coming back?”

Chris throws his head back laughing. “It’s my ma. Of course, I sent her a text. Once we started the movie, I figured I’d be staying over.”

“Good. I don’t need her thinking I’m a bad person. Taking advantage of her baby boy.”

You get up, walking to the kitchen to grab a couple of more water bottles. Chris swats your ass just as you pass him.

 The two of you have the music back on, sitting close to one another, choosing to talk through the early hours of morning. It’s nice and you can’t help but feel closer to him. Part of you is worried that this is a one-time thing. Chris comes to Orlando once or twice a year, but probably can’t get away to spend time with you each trip. You start to do the math on your own vacation time, trying to think if there are events out of state that a publication will pay you to write about. But it’s way too early to be thinking this much, you just need to be here in the now.

You shift your focus back to Chris who’s looking at you with a dopey grin.

“So, will you?” he asked.

Huh?

“Will I what?” you asked.

“Did I lose you for a minute?” he chuckles out.

“I’m sorry. Lack of sleep. I’m with you now. What’d you ask?”

“I said.” Chris stands up. “Do you want to go for a walk?” He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet, not letting you answer. “Sun’s almost up.”

You nod your head, walking to the door to slip on a pair of sneakers. They don’t quite go with your dress, but you’ve essential been up for almost a full day.

Grabbing your keys from the table near the door, you lock up and pass your keys to Chris since you don’t have any pockets. You live on a residential street that’s a mix of vacation rentals and long-term residents like yourself. There are a few joggers out, but besides them, it’s just you two.

Chris takes your hand in his as the two of you stroll slowly around your block.

“I’m really glad you were able to hangout today,” he said.

“Me too. I actually wish you were staying longer.”

“Me too sweetheart. I don’t want to wait another seven months to see you,” he confessed.

You stop in your tracks. Keeping a hold of his hand, you turn to face him.

“You don’t?” you asked.

Where this doubt is coming from, you’re not so sure. The two of you are friends, so of course you’ll see each other again. It’s just this in between flirting and touching that has you all mixed up.

Chris gently rests his other hand on your face and leans in, slowly bringing his lips to yours. They’re soft and smooth, just like you’ve imagined. You eagerly kiss him back but don’t want to push it, so you remain solid where you stand, letting him do the work. He slowly pulls away, but not far because you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are intense, asking for permission. You slightly nod your head and before you know it, his lips hit yours. It’s so quick you’ve barely shut your eyes before his other hand takes a hold of your face and he kisses you more intensely. You’re not complaining, but you are thankful it’s so early, the neighborhood is barely awake. You wrap your arms around his back and hold him tight as he kisses you senseless. He pulls back again, still holding your face gently before planting a chaste kiss on your lips.

You flutter your eyes open to see a soft smiling Chris. He’s still lightly holding your face and you hope he doesn’t stop.

“Was that okay?” he asked softly.

He knows it was. He’s just being a little shit per the usual.

You give him a small frown and quickly see a tiny bit of doubt in his eyes.

“I think I need to try that again,” you said, grabbing his face and bringing him to you. You kiss him softly on the lips. Once. Twice. Three times before you feel him smile against you. He leans his forehead against yours as you both stand there like two smiling fools.

“Of course, I don’t want to wait this long to see you again,” he breathes out.

“Me neither,” you agree.

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