#except she’s paying her publicist to do it

[adelaidedrubman]

the episode of house where they’re making an inspirational documentary about one of his procedures and the filmmaker cherry picks clips of him saying things like “i care about your son” and “i became a doctor because of the movie patch adams” to add commentary about what a warm, compassionate person he is. exactly how america’s sweetheart verse works.

[chelseachilly]

THIS LOVE - epilogue | you come back to what you need

pairing: ben chilwell x reader

rating: T

word count: 2.8k

summary: you and ben settle into life as a couple 🩵

A/N: as promised, the epilogue 🫶🏼 thank you for reading, and i'm going to be working on some oneshots now that this story is complete so stay tuned for more ben content! x

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“You’re telling me I spent months cultivating your public image as a couple only for you to go become an actual couple?”

You hear Ben’s publicist Shreya’s voice coming through the phone, partly because he’s just put it on speaker and partly because you’re laying on top of him.

You’ve been mostly in this position for much of the past week. Ever since you and Ben confessed your feelings for one another, you’ve been pretty much inseparable - unless you’re at work or Ben’s at training, you’ve been holed up at his house ignoring the rest of the world. 

You didn’t make your first public appearance as a couple - a real one, that is - until yesterday, when you attended Ben’s game at the Bridge. They beat Bournemouth 4-0, with a goal and an assist from Ben in one of his best performances all season, and you couldn’t resist jumping into his arms and kissing him senseless when you met him on the pitch afterward. 

Naturally, the photos spread like wildfire over the internet, and although the public was already used to the idea of your relationship, your phone has been blowing up today with messages from your close friends and family who were in on the fake relationship but not yet aware of its newly real status.

You know you’re gonna have to call at least your parents at some point today to explain why there’s a photo of you and your best friend making out in The Sun - although you know they’ll be thrilled, since they already see Ben as an honorary son - but you haven’t responded to anyone yet. 

In fact, you haven’t done much of anything since you got home from the game last night - well, except your new boyfriend.

“Erm, yeah,” Ben chuckles, running his hand over your bare back in a repetitive motion as he talks to Shreya. 

He figured he at least owed an explanation, so he took his publicist’s call to catch her up to speed and let her know that he wouldn’t require her to bolster your appearance as a couple anymore. 

There’s a pause on the other end, and you have to stifle a giggle against Ben’s chest when you hear Shreya’s sigh of exasperation. 

“To be fair, it was the easiest job I ever had trying to convince people you were together, so perhaps I should have seen that one coming,” she says. “Well, good for you, Ben. You sound happy, and you were brilliant yesterday.”

“Thanks,” Ben grins, his eyes glued to yours. “I am very happy.”

Your heart thumps in your chest and your eyes tear up slightly at his earnest, lovestruck expression. You can’t resist shuffling even closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek, followed by one to his jaw, then a few more down his neck.

“Do you want to go over your GQ interview next week?” Shreya asks. “You know, the reason you pay me?”

You’re still distracting Ben with soft kisses to his neck that have made his eyes flutter shut and his focus drift.

“Sorry, I - uh, I’m gonna have to call you back, Shreya. Thanks again, cheers.”

Ben hangs up and tosses his phone to the side, immediately flipping you over and attacking your face and neck with little kisses until you’re giggling uncontrollably. 

“Ben,” you sigh as he’s sucking on your collarbone in a way that you know will leave a mark if you let him. “We should probably get ready.”

As wonderful and perfect as the past week has been, spending all your free time tangled in these very bed sheets and experiencing things you’ve never felt before, Harvey is hosting an event for his clothing brand later that you can’t miss. 

You’re not particularly eager to leave your little bubble of joy in Ben’s house, but you figure you owe it to one of the friends responsible for that happiness to turn up for him today. 

“I know,” Ben groans, his hand travelling low on your back and sending a shiver up your spine. “In fifteen minutes?”

“We’re already going to be late,” you point out, glancing at his watch. “It’ll take an hour to get there and I still don’t know what I’m wearing-“

“You’ll look amazing in anything,” Ben insists, leaving more kisses up your neck, “or nothing…”

“Ben,” you say with slightly more resolve, even though his lips are making it hard to think of anything else right now. “We can’t avoid all social plans forever. As much as I love being alone with you.”

Ben pulls back and you think you’ve finally got him to focus, but there’s a look in his eyes that you recognize all too well from your lifetime of knowing him. It’s the same look he has before a big game or in an argument - he isn’t going down without a fight.

“Please, baby,” he says in a soft whisper near your ear that he’s very quickly learned is one of your many weaknesses when it comes to him. “Ten minutes?”

The other thing about those big blue eyes that you know so well is that they just so happen to be one of your other greatest weaknesses, and when he smiles at you, you know you’re a lost cause. 

“Ten minutes,” you agree, grabbing his face and kissing him again before he can respond.

It’s actually closer to twenty-five by the time you actually roll out of bed, and another twenty when you realize you both need a shower and end up getting distracted once again, so you have to hurry to get ready.

One perk of dating your best friend is that you already have a closet full of clothes at his place, and you pick out a simple dark blue dress that you know looks good on you. As you’re finishing up your makeup, Ben walks into the bathroom freshly changed into a black t-shirt and jeans, and you don’t miss the way his eyes light up at the sight of you.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Ben murmurs as his eyes rake over your body in the mirror from behind you. “I’ve always loved this dress on you.”

“Thanks, Benji,” you say softly, putting down your makeup brush and smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. You can’t help but blush a bit at the thought of Ben checking you out long before admitting how much he fancies you. “Are you ready?”

He doesn’t respond, instead just stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind for a moment. Despite the time crunch, you relax into him and breathe a small sigh of contentment.

You can’t help but admire the sight of the two of you in the mirror, his face buried in your neck and inhaling your scent as you hold his hands that have settled on your stomach. 

“I still can’t believe I get to do this now,” he whispers, echoing the same feeling running through your soul. 

After unknowingly yearning for this for so long, maybe your whole life, it feels so right to finally fall into this simple intimacy with Ben. It feels like coming home. 

You turn in his arms, intending to lean in for a quick kiss before forcing the pair of you out the door, but you instead feel overcome by the sudden urge to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his chest. He hugs you back without a word, pressing a few soft kisses to your hair.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles on your spine. “I’ve never been this happy before.”

“I love you too,” you mumble against his chest before pulling back just enough to cup his face and see your whole world between your hands. “And neither have I. This week has been…perfect.” 

He nods in agreement, letting out a small sigh. “Are you worried it’s going to be weird when we leave our little bubble? I don’t think the game yesterday counts since we were basically apart until you pounced on me afterward.”

You slap his chest playfully and roll your eyes before shaking your head.

“It might be a bit of an adjustment, but not really. I mean, we’ve basically been doing this for months now in public.”

“Sure, but it was fake then,” Ben points out. 

“Yeah, but the feelings were there,” you say, your fingers running through his hair in a way that makes him smile sleepily. “Now I get to love you publicly and privately, and I can’t think of anything that could feel more right than that.”

Ben’s eyes light up before he closes them to dive in for a kiss, his soft lips lingering on yours for a few moments before he pulls away. 

“You’re right, love,” he says. “Now, we should probably go, because the longer I look at you in that dress the more I wanna take it off.”

You smirk and pat his cheek before walking away, knowingly giving him a great view of your arse on the way out. 

-

An hour later, after singing loudly to the pop songs on the radio and laughing so hard your ribs hurt the entire drive to Soho, you and Ben are standing in the crowded restaurant where the launch of Harvey’s new fashion line is being celebrated. 

A bunch of your friends are here, all of whom are enjoying this opportunity to tease you - with love, of course. 

Tom caught you stealing a few kisses in the corner of the room less than five minutes after your arrival, so you probably deserve the teasing. Plus, you’re so happy that you don’t care. 

After circling the room a bit and congratulating Harvey, you’re now chatting with Anish and his girlfriend Hannah in a booth. You have lots of room, but you’re still pressed to Ben’s side, his arm around your shoulders. 

As he and Anish chat about the clothing line, you’re content to just listen to Ben’s voice and enjoy the warmth of his body against yours. You occasionally press a kiss to his jaw and he’ll stop talking for a moment and smile at you, which makes you want to do it again. 

After a while, Hannah suggests going to get another drink, and the boys nod in agreement.

“I have to use the loo, can you grab me something?” you ask Ben, and he nods and pecks your lips quickly before heading over to the bar.

After using the washroom, you’re eagerly making your way back through the room to find your boyfriend when you bump into a familiar figure.

“Ryan?”

Ryan, the well-dressed man standing before you, just so happens to be your ex. You went out for a few months two years ago before ending things fairly mutually and amicably.

You’re surprised to see him for a moment, but he does work in the fashion industry, so it makes sense that he would be here.

“Y/N, wow, it’s been ages,” Ryan says, giving you a quick hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good, still working at the hospital,” you say with a smile. “Are you still at the magazine?”

“No, I actually moved to Paris, just in town for the week visiting some friends,” he explains. 

“Wow, Paris!” you remark. “That’s amazing. Do you like it there? Are you seeing anyone?”

“Of course I like it, it’s Paris,” he chuckles. “And yeah, I just moved in with my girlfriend Claire. You?”

As if on cue, Ben comes up beside you and presses a kiss to your cheek before passing you a gin and tonic, your favourite, with a water for himself in his other hand.

“Here you go, babe - oh,” Ben’s face falls slightly when he sees who you’re talking to. He was never a fan of Ryan, often calling him pretentious or making fun of how artsy he was, though looking back now that may have just been jealousy. “Ryan.”

“Well, that answers that question,” Ryan says with a small smirk. “I have to say, I’m glad you two finally got your shit together.”

“What?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I mean, it was painfully obvious you were in love with him back when we were dating,” he elaborates. “You never stopped talking about him and you saw him more than you saw me.”

You can’t help but blush a bit when Ben looks at you with a slightly raised eyebrow, despite the fact that you’ve literally spent the last week demonstrating exactly how in love with him you are.

“I think you might be exaggerating-“

“I seem to recall you cancelling a date more than once because Ben had a ‘bad game’ and you needed to go round his and cheer him up?” Ryan laughs. “I hated football before that, but it really solidified the hatred.”

Although part of you wants to laugh, cry, or scream at yourself for being so blind to your feelings for Ben, you do also feel a tinge of guilt for dragging guys like Ryan along before you figured things out.

“Sorry about that,” you say, leaning into Ben’s arm that is wrapped protectively around your waist. “It took me a while to realize what was always right in front of me.”

“No worries, it worked out for the best, yeah?” Ryan says, raising his beer to you and Ben. “I’ll see you around, cheers guys.”

As Ryan walks away with a smile on his face and Ben pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your temple, your guilt is replaced by a warmth settling into your chest - everything really did work out. All the wrong turns and detours along the way just led you back to where you always belonged. To Ben.

“So, you never stopped talking about me, huh?” Ben says after a moment, and you can hear the smirk in his voice before you turn to look at him.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes, playfully pushing him away and shaking your head. “I literally confessed my undying love for you less than a week ago, you arse.”

Ben just continues to smile at you, setting down his glass so he can wrap his arms around your waist. 

“You’re cute when you’re obsessed with me,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your hip just enough to drive you crazy. 

“And you’re cute when you’re jealous,” you retort, smirking slightly. “He has a girlfriend in Paris, just so you know.”

“I was not jealous,” Ben insists with furrowed brows. “How can I be jealous when my girl is soooo in love with me-“

You shut him up with a kiss, partly to get him to stop talking and partly because you are in love with him and hearing him call you his girl has reduced your brain to mush. 

You don’t know if this will ever stop - you doubt it - but every nerve in your body is electrified as he kisses you slowly, pouring every bit of love and desire he feels for you into the kiss. It’s not the most passionate one you’ve shared so far, being that you’re surrounded by people, but it’s soft and sweet and more than enough to make your knees go weak and your thoughts blur.

“Ben,” you mumble against his lips, forcing yourself to pull back. “We can’t make out in the middle of Harvey’s work event.”

A small pout forms on Ben’s face, which is so adorable that you have no choice but to peck his lips once more.

“How about my car then?” Ben suggests, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

“Ah, is that why you insisted on taking the Range instead of your flashy new sports car?” 

He nods, gesturing to the car park just outside. “Lots of room in there.”

As much as you don’t want it to work, the thought of what Ben is capable of doing to you in the backseat of his obnoxiously big car is too tantalizing to resist.

You glance around the room to make sure none of your friends are watching before nodding. “You get ten minutes, Benjamin.”

“We’ll see about that,” he grins, grabbing your hand and beginning to drag you toward the exit as you try to contain your lovesick giggles.

As you climb into his car and then into his lap, exchanging messy kisses that are interrupted by your smiles, you can’t believe it took you so long to get to this point. Sure, it’s still kind of terrifying to jump headfirst into a relationship with the person who has been your person since you were kids, but it’s also thrilling.

It’s the beginning of the rest of your life with your best friend, and you have a feeling it’s going to be a very happy one. 

a/n: please let me know what you thought! i hope you all liked the ending :) tag list: @captainwans @amandaaa1025 @bbygrlllllll @ncentic @lunamelona @kathb59 @cinderellawithashoe @batmansb1tch @myheartgoesvroom @chillymountsjess @babygirlbenji @delicateearthquakellama @joyfullyswimmingface @xxenia14 @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @chilwellspulisic @maraudersmap123 @evelinapurmale @freekoalakryptonite

[ebongawk]

Eddie and Chrissy have a big fight/argument/misunderstanding (but with a happy resolution please 🥺). Just for hurt/comfort sake.

Eddie couldn't wrap his head around it.

Reconnecting with Chrissy Cunningham (yeah, that Chrissy Cunningham) five years after leaving Hawkins to snap at his heels while he went out and made a name for himself had, at the time, seemed like an act of fate. He'd just gotten out of a year-long situationship that ended when their mutually agreed upon exclusivity had, apparently, been too exclusive for her.

Eddie wasn't heartbroken or anything. He didn't really let his attachments take up that much space in his chest, but it was disappointing to realize that, yet again, he was deemed not enough by a person with whom he'd expended so much time and effort.

But, whatever, right? Who gave a shit. Rockstars weren't supposed to dip their fingers into one honeypot at a time, anyway, so to speak. And Eddie was kinda in a place where he should have wanted to explore that.

(He didn't, but that seemed secondary.)

Then, in aforementioned act of fate, Chrissy Cunningham showed up at his signing booth at the end of a show, and all that space in his chest he hadn't allowed another person to occupy was suddenly pitched with a For Sale sign, paperwork drawn up and just waiting for her to take out the mortgage.

Wonder of wonders, she fucking did.

They'd just celebrated a year together by buying an adorable little three-bed townhouse in Carlsbad. It was kinda dated – the wallpaper had definitely been picked out by someone's grandma – but it was theirs, and Eddie fucking loved it. Chrissy did, too, if all the squealing was anything to go by.

Producers called up about a week later to let him know they were going on tour for four months, and Eddie and Chrissy were torn between elation and devastation, since she could only go with him for the first month before she had to be back at work.

Which was fine. They made it work. Eddie called whenever he had a chance and Chrissy had sent him off with polaroids and a letter about how much she loved him and the stuffed frog he'd won her at the San Diego County Fair and it was fine.

Except, recently, shit had been weird.

Like, weird weird.

Like, Chrissy could only talk for a few minutes weird. Like she'd missed his nightly phone call a few days ago because she'd been "out", and when he'd called her last night, he swore he heard a man's voice on the other end of the line.

He asked, and Chrissy explained that she forgot to mute the TV, but that was completely unlike her. Chrissy never forgot that kind of stuff because she always lamented that it was impossible to focus on their conversation if she had distractions in her periphery.

It hit him like a goddamn ton of bricks.

She's cheating on me.

And it didn't make sense, but then it did, because who the fuck wanted to wait around for some asshole guitarist in a band that barely had name recognition? For four fucking months? She was a publicist, for fuck's sake, she made plenty of money to support herself and Eddie was just the dead goddamn weight that nobody wanted––

He didn't want to believe it. But she knew he was getting home the following day, so Eddie did what any sane person would do. He boarded a plane twelve hours earlier than was originally planned, took a taxi to their new house, and was going to catch her in the fucking act.

Even if it ripped his heart to shreds with fucking dragon claws and made it impossible for him to ever love anyone else. That was just the fucking price he'd have to pay for trusting someone, he supposed.

The entire trip home (six hours), all he could think about was what he was going to say when he found her in bed with someone else. And he kept choking on his own tongue to keep the bile from coming up his throat.

Unlocking the door, Eddie set his duffel bag and guitar in the foyer, automatically toeing off his Reeboks (Chrissy was adamant about no shoes in the house) and walking down the hallway toward the kitchen.

It was empty.

Then, from up the stairs, a soft, continuous banging noise. Like a hammer tapping against a nail or––

Or a fucking bedpost hitting the wall.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Eddie rounded the corner and practically barged into their bedroom, shoulders heaving and fists clenched.

Empty.

A blink, then two, and Eddie looked around. There was something different about the room. Like, yeah, okay, it'd been a while since he'd been home, but the walls were... definitely not green when he left. Because they were covered in that awful wallpaper.

Right?

And... did they always have those built-in bookshelves around the picture window? And that window seat?

He nearly went to investigate, but then the banging started up again, and Eddie whirled around, looking at the ajar door of the empty guest room down the hall. Heart in his throat, he approached and cursed his own fingers for trembling like that.

(Didn't these hinges used to squeak?)

The room was not empty like it'd been when he left it.

In the middle, beneath a clear tarp, was a huge desk that was stacked with boxes. He couldn't make out everything hidden within them, but his synth pedal and headphones were spilling out over the cardboard tops.

Chrissy was standing on a stepladder in the corner, holding a hammer as she hung up... was that soundproofing?

Standing beside her was a man. A man Eddie immediately recognized as his uncle, given the bald head and set of shoulders. And, in the opposite corner of the room, Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler were screwing things around the pieces of soundproof that were already hung.

Things like...

A guitar mount.

Jonathan looked up, his eyes widening as he let out a loud, "Oh, shit," at the unexpected ghost haunting the doorway. His statement made the other three pairs of eyes turn on him, each of them widening with shock.

"Eddie!" Chrissy shouted, nearly toppling off the stepladder in her haste to get down. Wayne's arms automatically stretched to catch her, but she was halfway across the room, practically leaping into Eddie's surprised embrace. "You're early!"

"Uh," he said, his voice breaking as his mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. "Y-Yeah. Just, uh, caught an earlier flight."

Chrissy's pointy little chin dug into his chest, her grin broad and her eyes glimmering in the sunlight still streaming through the window. "Well. I can't even be mad that you ruined your own surprise, I guess. I'm too happy to see you!"

Eddie's hands were still trembling.

"Surprise?"

"Yeah!" she said, still giddy with excitement. Not quite leaving his uncertain embrace, Chrissy turned, broadly motioning toward the room. "I was building you a studio! For, um, for songwriting and stuff. Because I know you have to make appointments to go to the recording studio. So, we took down all the drywall and double-insulated in here, and we're just finishing up the soundproofing tiles!"

Fuck, she was still grinning. Looking up at him with bright, expectant eyes as she waited for his response.

Before he could formulate one, she bounced, her eyes widening again. "Oh, and! And! Look what I did to the bedroom!"

She grabbed his hand, walking him back toward the room he'd already seen and whipping the door open with a flourish.

"Ta-da!" she exclaimed, motioning toward the walls, the shelves, the window seat. "That wallpaper was awful, so it was the first thing to go. Then, Wayne came down a couple weeks ago and helped me fit these shelves in, so we'd have somewhere for all our books! Isn't it lovely?" She gave a dreamy sigh, leaning her head against his chest and wrapping her arms around his midsection.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck.

She was–– Jesus Christ, he'd been so fucking convinced that Chrissy was cheating, and she'd been... She'd been rebuilding their goddamn house from the inside out. Creating a home for them, where they'd just been living in a place they liked.

She wanted him to come back to a home he could love.

"Not," he rasped, trying to blink away the sudden buildup of moisture in his eyes. "Not–– Not cheating?"

Chrissy's brow furrowed, her grin growing confused as she shook her head. "No?" she said, giving a little giggle. Then, she looked at him for a long moment, her smile gradually falling as understanding lifted the shades from her eyes. As the furrow in her brow creased from misunderstanding to complete heartbreak. "No," she repeated, more sure, more broken, and Eddie felt, all at once, like the world's biggest asshole.

She unwrapped her arms from around him, stepping back.

"Chrissy––"

"I'll, um," she interrupted, backing out of the room. "You can explore, I'll just... I have some stuff to finish up, okay?"

"Wait, Chrissy––"

But she was slipping out the bedroom and down the stairs, making Eddie feel fucking awful for assuming the worst. Because he knew her – of course he knew her. And of course Chrissy would never do something like that. She–– God, she was so fucking good, way too good for him, and he couldn't reconcile that so he made her the villain?

Old insecurities were fucking impossible to shed.

Their three guests were still in the guest bedroom – the studio – and Wayne gave him a smile as he finished up his wall of soundproofing.

"Crazy, huh?" he laughed, joining Eddie in the hallway when Eddie couldn't bring himself to enter the room. "She was a gosh darn dictator, trying to get all this finished before you made it back. I think even Miss Wheeler in there was impressed." Wayne chuckled.

He just looked at his uncle, lost, and said, "Wayne, I think I fucked up."

(to be continued)

[finalgirlkateausten]

pls do tell me more about the stewy karolina wlw mlm hostility slay🙏🏼

sgdjfkdsffbdfsjdf i love the brainwave we have going

bc Karolina is Kendall's publicist. and in her eyes Stewy is Bad For The Brand. If that's actually true is debatable-- the internet is more positively obsessed with Kendall than they have been since it was rumored he was dating some British Princess in the late 2000s-- but at the very least, publicly and chaotically being in a relationship with a guy he's been close friends with since well before his marriage isn't the best look.... and also the Drugs.

Stewy absolutely does not help because he enjoys going viral and Kendall laughed once when Karolina was attempting to chew Stewy out for bringing his phone into a no-phones event so of course he's going to get worse!! I think he respects the Waystar team but also finds their whole deal funny so his attitude is not going to fly with Karolina. At some point he maybe leaks his own nudes except Kendall is partially visible/identifiable in the background and that is when Karolina decides they are sworn enemies

(also. this is more niche but. in my head and in my I Know Places AU tag I have a slowly developing au in which Karolina is secretly dating Shiv when kenstewy go public so she has a Vested Interest in people Not paying attention to how gay certain Roy siblings may or may not be. Like no this au is not canon compliant but the current plan is that Shiv is still married to Tom so,,,,, yeah that's just my own brain going crazy but Karolina is definitely anti-Stewy)

[joe-moi]

Uhh yeah that makes total sense. I think it was a bait too and the publicist was like nope you called the paparazzi girl thats not how we do it here..here is an nda boom, and the bating kinda stopped from there right? Like she hasnt done anything that can lead to their situationship being exposed and stuff since the publicist and wes follow (except her tiktoks but thats another thing)

I bet it wasn’t even an NDA. I bet it was an Instagram follow and a cease-and-desist type of thing. Like a you must stop this or we will look into further action. And it did stop on Instagram. So it really kind of shows that maybe nobody’s paying attention to TikTok? But even her TikTok has slowed way down with that.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Going Back

Summary: Dieter finds himself in his Agent's office after a successful six month long rehab, when he gets a phone call that puts things into perspective. He goes back home to say goodbye... and meets you.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, mentions of drugs, cancer treatment, character death, grief, fluff, implied pregnancy

A/N: Never really wrote for Bravo except for the Calls, but wrote this in like 2 hours last sunday. Hope you like it

Los Angeles, California 

He did not remember going back into the office of his manager after he ended the phone call with his brother. There were several people whose names he couldn’t even remember in the room who were talking about him, as if he wasn’t even in the room. Or interested. 

Then again for the last years he probably wasn’t very interested. 

Where these meetings always this boring? No wonder he was on drugs most of the time. 

They were talking about him, as if he wasn’t a person but a…. Thing they have to fix. Something to keep their pockets filled.

Okay… Honestly, he did some really really fucked up stuff in the past. The girls, the drugs, the….. 72 hour marriage to a girl named Candy he met in Las Vegas. 

But the overdose while shooting Cliff Beasts was a… very unpleasant but loud wake up call. He had never thought about his life as… as something so precious. And he had lived his life. He had a job he loved and people who loved him.

At least he thought they did. 

“Dieter are you listening?” Dieter pushed his sunglasses up on his nose, raising his head to look at John, his manager of nine years. He was a shark. He and his publicist had pulled Dieter out of so many fucked up shit the last years. Made him a big star who didn’t have to live from paycheck to paycheck while playing in shitty theatre pieces and made him famous. 

He was the Dieter Bravo, almost EGOT (the Emmy was still missing), face of Ray Ban (at least until earlier this year).

“What?” Dieter snapped, wanting nothing more than to call up his old dealer to get… something. 

“We’re sending you to another rehab. We know you’re clean… But the public… We need you to work with us, so we can go back to finding you some new roles. To build you back up.”

Dieter breathed in deeply as a woman started talking he had never met before. Or… he did not remember ever seeing before. The last few years were a little foggy. 

And… he was thankful for the work these people did for him. But… this, his career, these people…. They were not important. 

Nothing was important. 

The last thing he felt like doing was to go to another rehab just to have some paps conveniently snapping some pics of him towards the end with a woman his manager would hire that he would end up fake dating just to… get him back out there. 

“Simon will pick you up in the morning,” John said. 

“No,” was all Dieter said and the room fell silent almost immediately. 

“Dieter, we talked about this. Your last fall out was… too much. We need to…”

“We don’t need to do anything. I need to do what you tell me, so I can keep being your golden goose to pay your mortgages.”

“Dieter…”, John said sternly. 

“No. If I’m not mistaken your contract as my manager runs out at the end of next month, am I right?”

Dieter saw John’s jaw work before he nodded. 

“Good. Then consider this the last time we see each other,” Dieter got up from the uncomfortable chair he was sitting in. 

“You’re all fired,” he said, before he grabbed his phone and left the room. 

Santa Teresa, New Mexico

You were sitting in your usual place on the old armchair next to Carla. 

It was a good day today and you fought against the thought that this could be her last. It had been hard to make the phone call yesterday after the doctor had been here. The medication wasn’t helping her anymore so it would only be days before…

Carla Ramos did deserve better. 

She was the funniest woman you had ever had the pleasure of caring for. Since the day you moved into her house almost seven years ago you had felt like part of the family. 

Her son, the famous one who you only met once, was the one who paid for you but it was Ramon, his other brother who you were in contact with. 

Yes, the woman named one of her sons Ramon Ramos and when you first learned this information you had giggled like a schoolgirl while said son only rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile on his lips. 

Carla had been diagnosed with a rare form of kidney cancer and you had been with her through all of it. Every single doctor visit. Every chemo appointment. You had been with her every single day and last night you had allowed yourself to cry after the learning the news that she only had days left. 

When Carla learned the news she had only smiled softly and turned her head towards you, telling you that she now has to hurry up finding you a husband. 

You had held back the tears until you were in the security of your own room, already grieving the woman sleeping just down the hall who had become like a mother to you. 

She was currently sleeping and you were reading in your book when there was a knock on the door. You frowned, not expecting any visitors until the next day when Ramon and his family were supposed to come. 

Closing your book you took a look at Carla before you tiptoed out of the room and towards the door where you could already see a man standing. You narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who it was when he turned and you caught a look on his face. 

You took a deep breath.

You hadn’t expected him to come. His brother must have called him. 

Of course you knew who Dieter Bravo was. You had to have been living under a rock to not know him. You had read your fair share of gossip about him in the last years, but it was the awe with which his mother talked about him that made you feel like you knew him. 

She was his biggest fan. 

Which was one of the big reasons you grew to despite him in the last years. He had visited once since her diagnosis. Yes, he paid for everything, including you, but…. What kind of person does not take care or visit of his sick mother?

You glanced over to the old piano that had never been played since you got here, catching sight of his Oscar he had brought home the one time he had visited. 

He had wanted his mother to have it.

You took another deep breath, knowing that this was not the time to let your anger towards his behaviour get the best of you, before you opened the door.

Dieter had forgotten just how many things there were that he had paid other people to do for him. 

Packing his suitcase.

Booking a private jet and then deciding against it and buying a commercial flight ticket.

Renting a car at the airport.

Driving a car by himself.

Yet once he sat in the driver's seat of his rented Toyota it was like no time had passed since he packed his bags and went to chase his dream of becoming an actor. He made his way through his hometown until he parked his car in front of the flower places he had always bought his mama’s favourite flowers. Sun flowers. 

Dieter felt like shit.

Not because of how he behaved in the public eye but… how he treated his family in the past. His family who always put up with him no matter what he did. 

The therapist at his last rehab, the one he really committed to and got clean (16 weeks and counting) had talked with him about his family. And… thinking back he could admit to himself that shit had started to get really fucking complicated for him drugwise when he had learned of his mothers cancer diagnosis. 

Dieter was a mama’s boy. His father left the family when he and his brother were still in kindergarten and his mother became his biggest hero.

Even more so when he was grown up and noticed just how much she had worked to provide for him and his brother. 

So the first thing he did from his first big paycheck was buy her a house and get her everything she ever dreamed of.

But all the money and fame in the world meant nothing, when his mother was dying. 

It had been a hard reality check, the phone call from Ramon only yesterday. So many things had changed since yesterday. Of course Dieter knew that his mother was sick. He saw the bills and signed the paycheck for the live-in nurse he had hired. 

But… he had always pushed it far away in his mind. The drugs had been a great distraction from it. And the women. And men. 

He couldn’t cope with the thought of living in a world where his mother wasn’t a phone call away, so when Ramon called and told him that it was time to say goodbye, Dieter had gotten the reality check he had needed. 

Now here he was, a big arrangement of sunflowers in his arms, standing in front of the house he had bought for his mother. 

Since yesterday he had fired his manager and publicist and hired a lawyer (not the one from his divorce) to handle all of his affairs. Including selling his house in the Hollywood Hills.

He never wanted to go back. He didn’t even know if he wanted to work as an actor anymore. He just wanted to… live. And be Dario Ramos again. 

The door opened after he knocked and he put his sunglasses up on top of his head looking at you. 

“Mr. Bravo?” you asked.

“Dieter,” he tried to smile, completely caught off guard. He knew that he had hired you. He remembered that he met you once, a very foggy memory much like everything in the last years. How could he have not noticed how… young and beautiful you were?

You were wearing leggings and a too big shirt with a faded Star Wars print on it.

“Would you like to come in?” you asked and he nodded. You stepped to the side to let him in and he walked into the house, feeling like a complete stranger, yet noticing how much had changed since the last time he had visited. 

He looked… Different than in the last pictures Carla had shown you. 

Healthier. 

“Uhm….” he turned around, picking a single sunflower and handing it to you. You tilted your head before you took it, your fingers brushing over his. 

“This is for you. I… As a thank you. Which is…. Ridiculous thinking back now. I…” he took a deep breath.

You were touched that he even remembered you. 

“Your mother is asleep. She is having a good day. She will be thrilled you’re here,” you said as you turned away from him to walk towards the kitchen. You heard him follow you. Laying the sunflower down on the counter you reached over the sink to get two vases. A small one for the single one and a bigger one for the other flowers. You groaned, getting on your tiptoes when you couldn’t reach them. 

“Let me…” you felt his hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him as you took a step to the side and let him pull two vases from the cabinet. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly, confused by him. So confused.

You were expecting the cocky drug addict Oscar winner Dieter Bravo, not… this version of him. 

He nodded once at you before he walked back and you began to fill the vases with water.  You smiled to yourself when you put the single flower for you into the small vase and tried to remember the last time someone had gotten you flowers. 

“I’m sorry you know?” he said.

“I… did a lot of fucked up stuff these last years but not being here? Fucking pathetic…”

You turned around. 

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. You’re…”

“You were here. Every day. While I was getting shitfaced and fucking myself through half of the country.”

You pressed your lips into a hard line to keep yourself from reacting. 

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this…” he shook his head looking down at his hands.

“Dieter…” you said.

“Don’t call me that,” he sighed and your eyes softened.

“Dario,” you said and he looked up at you. 

“Would you like some of your mothers homemade iced tea?”

You didn’t mean to listen in, but you had heard Clara laugh and you stopped on your way back to your room as you listened to Dieter… Dario telling her about the time he had almost peed himself on set. 

“You’re a good man, Dario,” you heard Clara say. He sighed.

“I should have been here.”

“You’re here now. You can’t change what happened in the past. Just… promise me to think about it…”

“Mom, no…” 

You made yourself walk back to your room, not wanting to listen in in the first place. 

Clara had been over the moon when she saw her son and you had kept yourself busy to give them both time together. 

It gave you time to think.

Of course the last few years had given you time to form an opinion about your employer. But actually spending some time with him made you rethink some of your foreformed opinions.

There was the picture inside of your mind you had formed. Of the playboy cocky asshole who could have everyone and everything he wanted with a snap of his fingers. Who didn’t care about anyone but himself and where to get his next fix.

You grew to despise this picture of him.

But then there was this other side. The man who facetimes his mother every sunday to have breakfast with her in bed. 

You sighed to yourself, sitting in your window seat as you sipped on your glass of wine. 

It was always easier to hate someone than to try to understand them. It didn’t give them the opportunity to explain themselves.

Not that he had anything to explain to you. 

You were just the help. The woman who took care of his sick mother. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there looking at the stars when you heard the soft tunes of a piano down the hall. You set your wine glass down and quietly walked out, checking in on Clara who was soundly sleeping on your way before you walked into the living room.

His sponsor did not pick up the phone. 

Dieter wanted nothing more than to get some pills that made him forget just how much of a fucking failure he was. Instead he took a shower and sat down at the old piano that his mother still owned. 

He had learned to play on this very piano when he was little. The tunes came to him like an old friend as he closed his eyes and let his fingers fly over the keys. When he opened his eyes he looked straight at the Academy Award with his name on that was displayed next to his Grammy and Tony. 

What did all these awards mean anyway?

He closed his eyes, continuing to play to stop the voice inside his head that wanted him to get out of here and get some coke… or pills… or something to make all these feelings inside of him go away. 

He ended the song and just sat there in the darkness, his eyes closed. 

“That was beautiful,” he heard a whisper and his eyes snapped open to find you standing in the doorway. 

“I haven’t played in years,” he shrugged.

“Maybe you should. You looked peaceful while you played.”

He gave you a small smile, one that reached his eyes. 

“I put clean sheets on in the guest bedroom next to mine. Ramon and his wife always stay in the room next to your mother’s. I hope that’s okay.”

“Thank you,” he said and you gave him a small smile.

“You know what would make you play the piano even better?” you asked him and he shook his head.

“If you had some clothes on,” you winked at him and he looked down at his body, only then noticing that he was completely naked. 

He was about to answer you when he looked up but you were already gone. 

He sighed with a little chuckle, smiling to himself before he made his way to his assigned bedroom and fell asleep the moment his head hit the soft pillow.

Clara died in the early evening on the next day. 

She fell asleep peacefully, surrounded by all her loved ones. 

You gave the family some time, slipping out of the room, before you called the doctor to let him know. He assured you he would make the calls needed and you gave him a watery thank you before you ended the call and walked out to the patio. The sun was setting behind the hill and with it you let the tears fall. You hugged yourself as you tried to keep your sobs quiet. 

The door opened behind you and you didn’t turn around, trying to calm your breath as you looked over the wide countryside in front of you. 

“All my life I wanted to get away from here,” Dieter began and you closed your eyes. 

“When I was a teenager I hated living here. But my mom…. She loves this place. Until now I didn’t understand why, but I think I do now,” he continued and you sucked your bottom lip in to keep yourself from falling apart. 

“I’m really really thankful for you being here while I wasn’t. You were… She loved you like her daughter.”

You sobbed, shaking your head. 

Slowly, arms wrapped around your shoulders and you let your head fall down, your forehead falling against his chest. You opened your arms to hug him back, as Dieter’s chin rested on your head. 

Your finger grasped at the soft fabric of his shirt as he held you while you cried. 

One of his hands ran soothing circles on your back and you tried to get even closer to him, breathing him in. 

“I should be the one holding you right now,” you mumbled after a while. 

“It’s okay. We both just lost someone we loved.”

“I’m so sorry D…” you said, pulling your cheek against his chest. You felt him kiss your hair and you released a shuddering breath. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there holding each other, but when he let go as the doctor came, you felt a little lighter.

It was the day after the funeral that you found yourself sitting in the living room of Clara’s house. Dieter was sitting on the sofa next to you, his brother and wife across from you as you looked at Mr. Miller, the family lawyer who was about to read the last will of one Clara Ramos. 

You didn’t know why you were here. This was a family affair. Then again… you had nowhere to go. 

When you heard your name you looked up. 

“You, my best friend, the daughter I never had, to you I will leave this house. This house that you made so much brighter in these last years with your heart, your humour and smile. I know you will disagree with this decision, but sweetheart this is my thank you to you. Make this place a home for you and your future family. And if I die before we find you a husband, please…” the lawyer stuttered and you swore you could see him blush “at least find a man to rock your world. God knows you did not get any action while you stayed here with me.”

You shook your head to yourself with a smile, feeling overwhelmed. You felt Dieter take your hand, squeezing it once before he wanted to let go, but you didn’t let him. 

“So… when are you kicking me out?” he asked later that evening. You were both sitting on the porch, you with a beer and he with some iced tea. His brother and wife had left earlier, leaving you and Dieter alone at the house. Your house. 

“I still can’t believe that she would just give me this house. It should have…”

“Stop. She loved you. She wanted you to have it and you know better than to argue with her. Even now,” he smiled as he looked up towards the sky, cheering his glass towards it. 

“But still…”

You sat there in silence for some time. 

“You can stay as long as you want Dieter,” you said after a while and he looked at you from his side. 

“Are you sure? People say I can be very fucking annoying.”

You smiled. 

“I think these people only know Dieter Bravo. I know Dario Ramos. He’s… He’s pretty okay.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Pretty okay?”

“I don’t know him very well,” you teased. 

“Would you like to?”

“What?”

“Get to know him?”

You frowned. 

“Dieter can be a real asshole but… I think I would like you to meet me. The real me. If you… If you want to,” he added. He was nervous you could tell.

You shuffled closer to him and he looked at you with those warm brown eyes that held so many secrets. 

“I would like that,” you whispered and smiled up at him. He smiled back, his arm coming around your back to pull you against his side as you lay your head against his shoulder. 

Five years later

“Mr. Bravo! So good to see you back on the red carpet. You look great. You are nominated for three Academy Awards tonight. Congratulations on the success of “Going back”. What inspired you to write this story?”

Dieter smiled at the camera, before he looked down at the silver ring on his left ring finger. He always wore rings, no one thought much of it. But this one was special. You had put it on his finger. 

“Life,” he said, thinking of you waiting for him back home. How you were watching him, probably laying in bed because your pregnant belly was killing your back. You couldn’t travel anymore and he didn’t want to come either tonight but you insisted.

No award would ever compare to spending time with you.

“It was inspired by life.”

[carpisuns]

chapters: 10/21

Summary: Adrien’s favorite color used to be orange. Until Marinette.

An Adrinette fic with short, drabble-y chapters all involving the color pink

previous chapter

10. evening gown

The ballroom is elegant, but Marinette is radiant.

He can’t tear his eyes away from her. He knows his father expects him to mingle with the guests, to represent the brand, but he doesn’t care, because Marinette is standing beside him and her gown is pink and her eyes are blue and he thinks she might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“That’s Giovanni Bianchi!” she whispers. “He’s—is he pointing at us? Oh—oh no. Did I mess up something on my dress?”

Her arms are bare, and he can’t help but stare at the sprinkling of freckles on her shoulders. Her usual pigtails are gone, replaced by dark curls pinned at the nape of her neck. Two wavy locks frame her face.

“There might be a tear in the chiffon. Or maybe I missed a stitch somewhere, and—”

“Marinette, you did an amazing job,” he says. “He’s probably paying you a compliment right now.”

“No, no, he can’t be!” She frets with the blossoms that spill down her skirt, and he finds himself reaching out to clasp her restless hands in his.

“You look beautiful.” He smiles warmly. “It’s perfect. Trust me.”

She blinks up at him, her mouth hanging open. “Um, thanks. You look beautiful too—er, um, I mean, handsy. Handsome! Not that—I mean, like, you always … you’re always …” She closes her eyes and lets out something halfway between a chuckle and a sigh, like she’s laughing at herself. “What I mean to say is … you always look really good, Adrien.”

Adrien has been told he’s beautiful by lots of people—fans, photographers, designers, talk-show hosts, the café worker who took his lunch order last week. But somehow it’s never meant anything until it’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng who’s saying it. He fights the urge to rub the back of his neck while warmth spreads over his face.

“Thank you,” he says.

Then someone calls out to him and they’re both lost in a sudden flurry of faces and voices. He loops his arm through hers and lets the current carry them through the crowd.

Giovanni Bianchi greets them warmly and immediately praises the design of Marinette’s dress. Then Madame Chapdelaine remarks that they make a lovely couple, which makes both of them blush, even morso when she calls her friend over to introduce her to “Adrien’s pretty new girlfriend.” Adrien isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say at this point, so he just nabs the nearest rich-people snack from a passing waiter and offers some to Marinette. (Unfortunately, it’s liver pâté, but he swallows it down with as much decorum as he can manage.) Through it all, Chloé watches them from across the room with a look of betrayal, apparently too offended by Marinette’s presence to even approach them.

But that’s just fine with Adrien, because he didn’t come here to talk to Chloé, and he doesn’t feel like sharing Marinette with anyone else a minute longer. He tactfully evades his father’s publicist and leads Marinette away so he can finally—finally—ask her to dance.

“Would you do me the honor?” he asks, extending a hand.

She smiles nervously and lets him lead her onto the dance floor.

“I have to warn you,” she says, “I’m not a very good dancer. I’m, like—well, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He draws her closer by the waist. “We’ve done this before, remember? At Chloé’s party.”

“Except then, I wasn’t wearing heels. Or a full-length gown.” She gasps. “Oh no, why didn’t I think of that? I should’ve gone with tea length. Or knee length. But is that even formal enough for an event like this? I could have at least gotten away with flats, right? Or maybe—”

“Marinette. Everything will be fine.”

She blinks. “W-what if I step on your feet?”

He leans in closer. The sweet, flowery scent of her perfume wafts over him. “Honestly, I don’t care if you step on my feet all night, as long as I get to dance with you.”

Her face goes pink, and she stammers before she can speak. “What if I trip?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”

“What if I make you fall?”

“You won’t,” he says (but he’s lying, because she already has).

He squeezes her hand and pulls her forward gently, stepping backward so she doesn’t have to. If he’s careful, he can make sure she doesn’t have to go backward at all.

“See? This isn’t so bad, right?” he asks.

“No,” she answers, smiling softly. “Not bad at all.”

They weave through the other dancers, and the ballroom fades into nothing more than a candlelit backdrop for Marinette’s face—eyes bright, cheeks glowing. She stumbles once or twice, but they just laugh it off, and for a while they fill the time with talk about school and fashion and hamsters.

But soon it begins to feel a little stifling—the people, the clamor, the lights—and he finds himself wishing he could be with her alone.

“Hey,” he whispers, “wanna get some fresh air? We could walk around the garden for a bit. If you want.”

“That sounds nice.”

He takes her by the hand and pulls her gently off the dance floor, through the side doors, and out into the velvet night. The gravel crunches under his feet as they start down the path between the neatly trimmed hedges. He wonders if he should let go of her hand. (He doesn’t want to, so he doesn’t.)

“It’s beautiful,” Marinette says. The moonlight settles over her like snow, dusting her hair, her shoulders, the bridge of her nose.

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly.

They reach a tiered fountain surrounded by trees. The sound of flowing water mingles with the rustling of leaves and the faint music drifting over the rows of flowers and bushes.

He takes in a lungful of evening air. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I just—about—I was wondering … um, do you want to sit?” He gestures at a stone bench tucked beneath the shadows of the trees.

“Uh, okay.” She gathers her pink skirts and perches carefully on the edge of the bench. “Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

“No, no.” He sinks down beside her. “Um, about what Madame Chapdelaine said earlier. About you … being a couple. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay,” she says.

“Okay.”

The trickle of the fountain fills the silence between them. His hand finds the back of his neck before he can remember to stop it. Somewhere behind them, on the other side of the trees, another couple murmurs together as they stroll down the path.

“Was that it?” Marinette asks.

“Yes. No—I don’t—I mean …” Adrien swallows and clenches his hands over his knees, keeping his eyes trained on the hem of her gown.

“The thing is … I like you, Marinette.” He takes a steadying breath. “As … more than a friend.”

He hears her breath catch, feels her stiffen beside him. His head snaps up.

“And you don’t have to say anything! I don’t want to make things weird. I just—I just wanted—”

“I like you too,” she says quickly.

He freezes for the space of a heartbeat, and then he feels his face split into a grin. “Cool! Er, I mean … I—I’m glad.”

Her face breaks into a smile too, and even in the dark, she almost looks like she’s glowing. “I’ve liked you for a long time, actually. Ever since we met.”

“Really? But I thought you hated me the first time we met.”

She lets out a breathless laugh. “Well, I meant after the gum thing. Like, when you gave me your umbrella. That’s when I knew.”

Adrien’s pulse clicks against his ribs. “When you knew what?”

“That I had misunderstood you. That you were gentle, and kind, and generous, and honest. That you were somebody I’d want in my life forever. Somebody worth fighting for. Somebody worth … falling for.”

The answer spills from her easily, like she’s just been waiting for him to ask, like it’s been perched patiently on the tip of her tongue for years. She smiles gently, and his heart stops.

He isn’t sure when exactly he fell for Marinette—sometime after he first laid eyes on her and before tonight—but he thinks it may have been much earlier than he thought before. That maybe that moment in the rain was the start of it all for him too. That somehow, even before his heart was free to be hers, it knew it eventually would be.

She tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “You know, I’ve wanted to say that to you for a while now. ’Cause I’ve liked you for so long, and I made all these elaborate plans to confess. But in the end I always chickened out. Or it just ended in disaster.” She laughs.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m pretty dorky, but I’m not, like, that weird. Not as crazy as I always made myself look in front of you, anyway.”

“You never seemed crazy to me.”

“Really?” Her lips twist into a wry smile. “Not even when I gave you a prescription order for constipation pills and told you it was what I wanted more than anything in the world?”

Adrien stifles a laugh. “Okay, yeah, that was pretty confusing. What was that about?”

She buries her face with a groan. “I gave you the wrong paper. It was supposed to be a letter.”

“Oh? What kind of letter?”

She peeks at him between her fingers. “None of your business.”

“Weeell …” He leans back on his hands, tilting his head at her. “If I was supposed to get this letter, don’t I get to know what it said? I mean, I did hunt for those pills all weekend, so I kind of feel like I deserve to know.”

Marinette’s laugh feels like Ladybug’s cure, sweeping through him like magic. “Shut up! I can’t believe I’m even talking to you about this right now. When I realized what I’d done I was so embarrassed I wanted to die.”

“Well, I’m really glad you didn’t die. Because then I couldn’t dance with you again.”

He stands and offers his hand. She takes it, lifting her other hand to his shoulder, but he pulls her close instead, cradling her against him. She wraps her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder, and they turn in slow circles to the music of the fountain.

“You know, it’s weird,” she murmurs.

“What is?”

“I was always so nervous to even talk to you before. But now, it’s like—it’s not even scary anymore. It just feels … right.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

He holds her tighter, eyes closed, and imagines that the moonlight has turned pink, just for them.

next chapter (to come)

[swiftstigmata]

ok wait what’s your hot take on r*ta o*a being good for him! i have heard ppl say she’s hella problematic but i don’t know specifically why ?? hit us w ur thoughts pls

I'm putting this under a readmore because I absolutely refuse to force people to read r*ta o*a discourse against their will. but the tl;dr version of this is: yes, she's an insufferable person. yes, I think he's happy with her. yes, I have recently become very parasocial. yes, this is embarrassing.

Firstly tbh I think 'problematic' is a rough term, but in short, yeah, rita (we're on a first name basis now apparently) has a long history of career success based on blackfishing. She also broke lockdown rules in Nov 2020 by paying a restaurant £5k not to report her so she could have her 30th birthday (lol. except it's not funny is it it's serious). People also find her general career annoying but honestly I don't think there's anything wrong with doing whatever you can to be in front of the camera because, like, that's her job, so let's set that aside.

I unfortunately was susceptible to the Rita Ora propaganda when this interview came out in the Independent and started to kinda...like her. In the way you like your friend's messy cousin whose drama brings joy into your life. It helps that I am obsessed with her sister Elena, who seems to be her manager, handler, PR, publicist, and best friend all wrapped into one and is literally doing that better than like...the entirety of the Marvel team. "Why is Rita Ora here what is she even famous for" IT WAS ELENA. I would also bet money it was Elena who organised the damage control Independent interview and honestly, props. Excellent mopping up after the Covid fiasco. I want to study her in a lab etc.

It really confused people when Taika and Rita started dating (late Feb 2021, if you want to know the timeline so you don't have to be crazy like me and investigate it), but my hot take is actually that this is totally unsurprising and makes sense wrt what we know about both of them & their personal lives. Now THIS is when it gets really parasocial. You asked.

They have a similar group of friends - they were friends for 4 years before "complicating things" (absolutely deranged way of putting it, Taika, thank you) - and a lot of overlapping circles. They're both loud and ambitious with a tendency to overcompensate for nerves by just getting louder and more annoying, they're both party people who drink and dance and [redacted redacted]. Taika had just gone through his (now officially self-confessed! everyone say thank you Lie Detector video) 2018-2020 mid-life crisis and was filming Love & Thunder. CRUCIALLY, they had similar childhood experiences based around culture shock and forced assimilation - if you're reading this you probs know about Taika's experiences, but the tldr of the Oras is that they fled Former Yugoslavia just before the war and moved to London. Both Elena and Rita (first name basis here is killing meeee btw) have talked about the difficulty they had in adjusting (though Rita was just a baby). The Ora management team and inner circle still to this day consists mostly of the children of fellow refugees who moved to London at the same time and are childhood friends of the sisters. Elena stepped into the management role at 18 because their parents didn't have a good enough grasp of English to keep Rita safe in the industry. SO: broadly familiar childhood experiences on both sides, plus a tendency to keep close to friends and people you trust, etc etc.

In terms of them being good together - I literally don't know these people, obviously, I've just been obsessed for two months so I have a disturbing amount of knowledge in terms of what they choose to show us. In short: they seem happy. They seem to want to do similar things - go to shows, be papped, go to parties, get shit-faced, travel, and be domestic. There's this recent picture from the Dior show where she looks so happy it made me physically recoil from the screen.

Rita also talks in the Elena Propaganda Coup interview about how she has been in consistent therapy since she was fifteen because of crippling anxiety and panic attacks, and Taika recently mentioned in the Wired Autocomplete interview that he's now in therapy ("Who is Taika Waititi? Ask my therapist, that's what we're trying to figure out." [everyone who has watched Boy 2010 breathes a sigh of relief]).

FINALLY FINALLY the recent hyperspecific leak to the Mail and the Sun (not linking because I refuse to give them clicks but..) about their probable engagement and low-key wedding reads very much to me like a strategic planting - either because they knew the story was about to leak and wanted to get ahead of the story, or because they were throwing the press a bone in the hopes that they'd be left alone for the actual wedding. ELENA STRIKES AGAIN. The fact that the Mail keeps referring to Taika as "Rita Ora's fiance" (scream....so funny on so many levels) without either team issuing a denial is half a confirmation. Taika did fully dodge the question on This Morning which made me yell bc fuck Philip Schofield but is also NOT A DENIAL. Either way the idea that they're having a tiny wedding at some point in the near future without wanting it on social media spells happiness to me (not that having a big wedding means you aren't in love. then again this is a post about rita ora I'm cancelled already). Rita obviously wants kids and a big family and everything that entails so this was a fairly predictable move for them (predictable if you are me and Zoe @wolfhalls who seem to be psychic when it comes to Rita/Taika moves. What a useless skill). I just think it's cute I guess.

BUT TO SUM UP. Yes she is insufferable. Yes she's definitely privileged and ignorant. Yes the COVID thing was absolutely stupid and feels like a hugely coked up impulsive move to me. But also yes I think the hate she gets online is totally disproportionate and mostly driven by neckbeard men on reddit and whoever the fuck it is who comments on Deuxmoi, and I also think Taika is an insufferable person too so they match! Kidding I luv him. but also. Tune in next time for the great 2016-2018 PA Scandal Timeline. (KIDDING. I will not be doing that. But you get the point). The Rita that exists in my head is my best pal the girls who get it get it the girls who gornt...gornt. Thanks for reading.

[wufflesvetinari]

IA copyright lawsuit, or “The Wayback Machine is Under Attack”

So, the Internet Archive copyright lawsuit thing is more complicated than it appears. This is a good rundown of the legal questions involved, while this NPR piece describes the reaction to “National Emergency Library” that pushed things to the brink.

TL;DR, the IA provides crucial archiving services (including the Wayback Machine), but they’ve recently started a large-scale illegal lending model that put their other services at risk. This is really disappointing to me and I’m going to write a long, dry post about it.

Essentially, the Internet Archive has historically only allowed books to be “lent out” digitally to as many people as the IA has physical copies stored. So if they have 2 copies of Mary Sue’s new book, only 2 people can be reading their PDF scans at a time. This was enough for many publishers and authors to look the other way (although groups like the Science Fiction Writers of America has been decrying the practice for years, since in many cases they were “lending” books they didn’t have licensing for.)

Because, while this is similar to the system used by libraries, libraries pay for each lending copy of their book (ensuring that the authors, artists, publicists, editors, etc are getting paid). the IA, from many accounts, did not pay for all of these books in the first place. but again, small-scale enough that nobody went after them for it.

Due to the pandemic, they removed the waiting list for these books, arguing it was in the national public interest to have access to knowledge. Great! I respect this ideology. Except that rather than paying ~$0 for two digital copies w/o author permission, they’re now paying ~$0 for unlimited copies w/o author permission. Writers who put years of labor into these books began kicking up a fuss (including Chuck Wendig, who’s receiving death threats because I guess he’s the most recognizable name involved?) and publishers sued.

So nobody’s goal is to get the Archive taken down entirely. Instead, the argument is that the damages claimed in the lawsuit could absolutely be large enough to cripple them. The IA ended the emergency lending program earlier than planned, so we’ll see if the suit goes through after all.

So, why is this complicated?

On the one hand, copyright law sucks right now and many are understandably infuriated at the idea of huge publishing companies suing a free library. 

On the other hand, they were not operating as a library, and creators were failing to be paid for their work. with the new lending model, Mary Sue Author (who, as an average author, receives wages below the poverty line) is worried that this change is actively preventing her from making a living. If she’s a new author, an impact to her numbers is enough to ensure that the publisher doesn’t buy her next book. 

If Mary Sue is a marginalized author, she’s especially at risk of economic insecurity. If Mary Sue and authors like her cannot afford to write books, writing remains a domain of privilege. 

(Also, there’s some legal argument that if Mary Sue fails to actively protect her copyright, she could lose it. I’m not an expert and won’t weigh in on this.)

But wait! (Common Counterarguments swirling on the Twitters):

“Writing should be a hobby anyway. If you care about making money for your art, you’re not a real artist.” Hopefully we are all familiar by now with how shit this argument is; we see it a lot around here flung at visual artists. Pay people for their work! Also, again: this is how you get a bunch of WASP authors and nobody else.

“It’s actually the publishers screwing the authors, so this is a punishment for the publishers.” Except it is...not. It is not. The people most likely to suffer would be the writers, not the publishers. 

“Libraries are closed, so what are we supposed to do about it?” This one is tricky right now, but I’d first check to see if your library participates in an e-lending service (many do). check out OverDrive or Audible, which do pay authors. Project Gutenberg has free classics in the public domain. Amazon has its own problems, but Kindle Unlimited allows access to many, many free books where the author is actually seeing payment. 

“Okay, but why should the digital library of Alexandria go down because some authors are mad?” I honestly really want to ask this question to whoever was making these lending decisions at the IA, because I also am very pissed about it. I don’t know why they thought publishers would ignore this very blatantly illegal thing (not even “grey area”--just under current copyright law, completely illegal). Regardless of whether copyright law currently sucks ass, it was a weird move! And now bad things are happening.

“Fuck off, everybody mad about this writes YA and science fiction, not real literature. Who cares if those guys get paid?” Seriously. This is a very common rebuttal on Twitter right now. Burn Twitter.

“Honestly you’re right but I just want free shit.” is it weird that this is the response I most respect

In case you skimmed all that, my point isn’t “copyright law is good, actually.” It’s that the issue is more complex than donation drive posts have portrayed it as. 

[jesslockwood]

Photo Opportunities

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF with a slightly (barely) suggestive sentence towards the end 

A/n: damn I can't write anything except actress reader? smh but this is for @londonspidey ‘s sit-com Writing challenge (ik I'm early lol) but I was so excited I wrote the whole thing in one go lmao the prompt is bolded!

Calling yourself a fan was an understatement. You were obsessed with anything and everything marvel. And oddly enough, you could after today say you were in the club. It wasn’t a public fact yet, until later that day actually, at the Marvel panel at comic con that you were being announced as the actress for the character, Felica Hardy and no one else knew except for the people who cast you and your best friend who signed an NDA. You were technically still a known actress for your roles on television mainly as Thalia on the PJO Disney + series and a couple of still decently sized films. 

You were currently wrapping up signing autographs for fans of yours for today. Your team had planned it out so it wasn’t suspicious that you were at the con with a few of your castmates scattered doing other junkets and press so people wouldn’t guess who they were acting as the cast for new marvel projects. 

You had been planning to go meet your best friend, who wasn’t in the industry before getting a text that she bought you both a photo-op with someone and she wouldn’t tell you who. You couldn’t only assume it was a marvel actor that you would indeed, freak out. 

Y/b/n: btw I brought you a mask. I get the wig lol.

You: please tell me it doesn’t cover my full face. Also, how are we posing?

Y/b/n: I bought as many photo ops as I could so a lot of different ones, And if I tell you the poses it’ll spoil it.

You: is this with the money I pay you to be my assistant with? Lol fine I’m omw with security

Y/b/n: maybe… 

Y/b/n: and they’ll need more backup security for who we’re getting a photo op with than you do for your hellfire.

You roll your eyes before taking your stuff and exiting the booth, before heading out the backways with staff security and your detailed security for the day. You only had security because you wanted to explore the con when you weren’t needed.

Your best friend had also been your assistant for the con weekend, but you didn’t want her to be confined to you the whole three days so when she could, you would let her explore it, at least she could experience it as a fan, right?

When you made it to that part of the building, you wanted to wait in line with her, which your security didn’t agree to so she texted you when there were about five people ahead of her. She was one of the last in line, with you asking her to be kind, so others would get their chance to be first with whomever it was. 

When she texted you and your detailed exit, getting a few stares and others taking their phones out to either take photos or tweet, you wave at them before joining your best friend in line.

“Here,” she says before handing you none other than a black cat mask before she puts on a red wig. 

You glare at her slightly trying to not make a scene, before putting it on. 

“I’m assuming you're Mary Jane?” you laugh figuring out that it had to be someone from Spider-Man.

“How’d you- never mind.” She laughs with you.

She then explains how she’s going to pose for your five photo ops, joking in between how she should “get a raise for this”.

You catch sight of him before sucking in your breath. This was either going to go down amazingly or terribly, there was no in-between with you. 

“Excuse Me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?”

You turn around and are met by some fans who were standing in line behind you.

“I am! How’s your con going?” you ask politely to the two of them.

“It's going amazing! We love you as Thalia! Could we maybe get a picture? Only if it’s okay?”

“Of course! Thank you for supporting me!” your best friend grabs their phone to take the photo, before you take off the mask, and stand between the two fans, and your best friend snaps a few photos. 

“Thank you so much! And Are you fans of Tom?”

You start slowly walking back to catch up to the line. 

“Yeah, I love him as Spiderman, but I also enjoy his other roles. He's very talented, I'd love to work with him one day!” 

“Have you seen him in Uncharted?  We love Him as Nathan drake!”

“I have, he was amazing per usual! How are you two posing with him?”

They show you their innovative pose. You laugh and tell them it's great before you have to wish them goodbye before heading up for your turn for the photo op. 

“How do we want to pose- hang on, I recognize you!”

You freeze slightly before your friend mouths for you to flirt. You look down at the mask in your hand before getting into character and saying “Of course you do Spidey, I'm always causing you trouble.” you put on the mask and wink. 

He seems slightly stunned, laughing, feeling like he’s seen you somewhere, not only because he found you extremely gorgeous, while in his peripheral vision he sees his brother/ assistant, Harry waving like a madman on the side. 

Your friend directs you both through the poses, first, one both him putting “webs” onto you as she looks over his shoulder, the second one, both of you kissing his cheeks, the third, all jumping in the air in your best superhero poses, the fourth one she gets a photo op alone and the last one she gives to you,

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Your Wildest dreams, baby,” you say, taking off the mask. 

Your best friend yells “freestyle” from the sidelines before Tom dips you, gently, with you shocked, holding the mask out with your free arm and the photo captures that moment. 

 He gently helps you stand back up fully, not before you drop the mask.

“Nice moves Spider-Man.”

“Not so bad yourself, Black Cat.”

You laugh before, taking off with your best friend, well more her dragging you to the printing station leaving the mask behind. Tom picks it up before shoving it in his back pocket to hopefully give back if he could find you. 

-

`You were sitting in the green room, trending on Twitter before you were actually supposed to be trending on Twitter, and god knows where else.  

Someone had snuck a video of you and Tom, up till him dipping you, and a video of you interacting with the fans in the line.

Your Y/b/n was currently reading off some tweets out loud

“‘A kind queen we stan.’  I agree, I also agree with ‘Date her if you can't date me tom!!!’.

‘THALIA AND PETER PARKER??? My two fandoms have collided.’ same, same. Oo this one says, ‘if she ain’t playing black cat I will sue marvel.’ I'm dying at the reply ‘She needs to post the photos or I'll sue her!’. This one’s funny, ‘she could squash him like a bug in heels but he liked his queen like that.’.”

She pauses watching you texting.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“What? Sorry I was only half listening. I was texting my publicist. She said to stay on the DL until tonight. 

“Well we should get food, you haven't eaten since this morning.”

“By the way, your show has shot to number one on Disney +. Also, you have like three times the followers you had before, probably cause you're trending on every platform, even Tumblr!”

“Wow you should just become my social media manager now.” you joke trying to ease the joy yet weirded out feeling in your stomach.

“Does that come with a raise? Because after today I've spent way too much of what I'm paid.” she jokes back.

-

After finishing his photo ops Tom asked Harry who she was and to find out. By the time he finished autographs for the day, Tom and Harry walked to the panel room in the back for announcements, one that included him for the new Avengers movie, while Harry gave him the rundown.

“So she’s an actress, she plays Thalia on Disney plus’ Percy Jackson series, and that's her most known project. The other girl with her is her assistant best friend, and now she's trending everywhere. People dug up some old photos of her being a marvel/Spider-Man fan, so there's that. And she's here at the con for the rest of the weekend. She's doing photo ops tomorrow at one, and yes she's single from what I gather since you were looking at her like this.” he makes a weird face before tom smacks him.

“And plus you have time in your schedule to get a photo op with her, that is if you eat lunch quickly.”

That gave Tom an idea. 

“Harry I’m going to need you to book me one, oh and help me find a Spider-Man costume!” He says, before leaving harry to do ‘assistant’ work. entering the green room for the announcements, watching them announce a new movie.

“We are so excited to announce to the Marvel Universe, and spider-verse-” that perked tom’s ears, “-directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and today we are announcing our amazing Miss Felicia Hardy, please give a warm welcome to the stage, Your Black Cat!”

You suddenly emerged in an aisle way, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, black ankle boots, and of course black sunglasses indoors.

The music is marvel music until it suddenly changes after a recorded laugh from you into “I can’t be tamed by Miley Cyrus”.

You start owning the music while saying hi and touching fans’ hands. You decide to take off your sunglasses and throwing them to a fan, for them to keep, before getting on stage.

“What a Performance from the one the only Y/n Y/l/n!”

You laugh, being met with the loudest applause you had heard all con before being handed a Mic. 

“Thank you but I'm a terrible dancer.” You Joke.

Tom was staring at the screen stunned. You had been the black cat all along. You were in the marvel universe and spidey one,  so he'd definitely be seeing more of you. The hard part is that you seemed so genuine when you talked, interacted with fans and was no doubt, stunning. 

“Better close your mouth or the flies will get in.” Tom turns around to find the voice of none other than his friend slash bully, Sebastian Stan, along with Anthony Mackie.

“Looks like the kid has a crush!” Anthony laughs, pointing to the screen you were on.

“I-I don’t! I don’t even know her!” Tom tries to come to his own defense, hopelessly.

“She’s got you whipped already don’t even deny it.” Harry comes in, joining the teasing of one, Tom Holland.

“Maybe we can invite her out for drinks tonight, then fanboy over here can meet her, and then probably scare her off!” Anthony mentions.

“You haven’t looked on the internet? They’ve already met.” Seb says, before showing Anthony twitter. 

Anthony stands there slightly shocked before bursting into laughter.

“Well, she’s damn well a keeper for Tom since she obviously likes him.”

A staff member peaks their head in the green room to tell Tom he’s up next.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave you two!”

On the other hand, you were on an adrenaline high from being on stage, and seeing all the fans. You knew tomorrow was going to be crazy, as you expected people to book your photo op left and right since the announcement. 

You had decided to decline an offer from your fellow marvel universe castmates, Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, which they so graciously told you that whenever you’re free, the offer still stood. 

You had gotten to your hotel room seeing your phone blowing up on the social media apps for the second time that day. 

You responded to the important stuff, before heading to bed, knowing it was going to be hectic.

-

You had been right, it was absolutely insane, the number of people who showed up. You had fully booked all your time slots for photo ops. You had seen so many people dressed up in marvel cosplay, ranging from Loki to Ironman, even some people dressed up as your character, which was wildly insane to see.

You had been nearing the end of the line and had enjoyed every moment with the fans, and you couldn’t wait for your autographing session later that day, to truly get a chance to talk to the fans and connect with them and how they felt about you being their beloved Black Cat. 

After a few more photos, posing how they wanted, you see a fully dressed, head to toe, mask and all, Spider-Man. You had seen some spider-mans but most took off their masks to snap a picture. The person was the last in line. 

“Hey Black Cat.” The southern American accented voice tells you, seeming very familiar. 

“Hey, Spider, what poses do you have up your sleeve?” you ask kindly.

“I bought a few, Cat.” they laugh.

“Okay, You can do whatever a spider can right?” you pull out a line out of the comics jokingly.

“I can do flips if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.” you laugh. 

“I really can, but this is one.”

He gets down on one knee, holding a black cat mask instead of a ring. The photographer captures the shocked expression on your face.

“I- Don’t- What- Spider I-” 

“Ow My feelings…” Suddenly their voice changes into a British accent before they pull off the mask to reveal-

“Tom?”

“I guess you don’t have a spidey sense darling?” The photographer captures the moment without warning eating the moment up. 

You laugh at that. 

“I guess you found out my true identity Spider. And it’s nice to officially meet you, Tom.”

He laughs, just as nervous as you, he notices he has gotten closer to you and a strand of hair loosely is blowing in your face, so naturally, he pushes it behind your ear. Another snap of the camera can be heard. 

“NOW KISS!” a voice belonging to your best friend yells from the side, mid-eating a churro.

You both laugh really hard at that.

The both of you calm down, slowly leaning lost in the moment. The camera snaps again. You both look at the photographer weirded out, and they just shrug.

“Wait can you actually do a flip?” you ask, pulling away, not wanting prying eyes aka the photographer, to pry in your business. 

“I can, though I’d show you later, maybe in the greenroom?”

“That sounds naughty, but, sure.” you joke around. 

He laughs before, you both take off from the area going to grab the photos.

-

After spending most of the day together when you could, you get Tom’s number, before heading back to your hotel room. He texts you as soon as you get back. 

Spider: I had fun today, minus finding our assistants making out.

You: we should ‘snog’ too, it’ll gross them out ;)

You: I had fun too btw. Are you leaving tomorrow?

Spider: lol we should. And yeah an early flight, 6 am to be exact. Hbu?

You: Yeah me too... another day another dollar lol

Spider: ill miss you, Cat.

You: stop talking like we’ll never see each other again lol. As a matter of fact, come to my room, we’re watching a movie!

Spider: alright, I’ll order snacks. 

  You sigh smiling at your phone. You haven’t felt this giddy in a long time.

Your phone pings with a few Instagram notifications.

Tomholland2013 has started following you.

Tomholland2013 has tagged you in a photo.

You open Instagram to find the photo of him “proposing” to you posted.

“Ow, my leg, my- feelings...Welcome to the Universe, Cat.” the photo is captioned. You decide to post, the photo of him dipping you.

“So what do you say, Spider? Wanna help me pull off the Heist of the Heist of the Century?” you caption it, Before getting comfortable to watch a movie. 

What an opportunity ;)

Tags:

@lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy @harryhollandsgirlfriend @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @queenofthepouges @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 1 |  Living Well is the Best Revenge or Just Trip Her on the Red Carpet

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Tom is in Vegas to present at a music awards ceremony and what do you know his high profile ex girlfriend is nominated for two awards.  And the press are having a field day.  Molly Bishop is grateful for the awards show because it means extra tips and getting her closer to paying off her student debt.  An offhand comment by Luke coupled with an encounter with his old girlfriend has Tom’s mental wheels turning.  Perhaps he and Molly can solve each other’s problem.  All they have to do is get married.

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

--

Tom dreaded turning his phone back on when the plane landed at McCarran airport. He knew what waited for him on the other side. Tom wondered if his publicist would buy the story he left his phone back at the bar in Heathrow. Probably not, he had tried that earlier in the year and Luke went ballistic until he came clean. He did not want a repeat of the earful he got back then. With a sigh, Tom switched on his mobile and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans, vibrating as messages and emails came in.

Tom never imagined the relationship would end like this. He thought he was in love. He thought she was in love. But it had all been what were the words she used “escape hatch”. Tom had been a means to an end. And the punishment for his naivete was a news cycle that would not die. And that photo.

He waited until he was in the car on his way to the Bellagio before checking his messages. There were a series of several text messages from Luke.

Call me when you get to your hotel room.

Don’t read the papers.

Don’t talk to any reporters.

Don’t do anything until you talk to me.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose underneath his sunglasses.

“Fuck!” he hissed under his breath.

This meant only one thing. Another story. Maybe more pictures. He shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, she was attending the same awards show. It ventured to guess the papers would play that up. Tom slumped against the car seat for the rest of the ride.

Check in went fine at the VIP check in. One perk of not only being a celebrity, but a presenter at the awards show. The bellhop delivered Tom’s luggage and garment bag. He pulled the outfit for tomorrow and hung it up, just like Illaria told him to. It was only when he flopped onto the sectional couch, Tom called Luke.

“I’ve been waiting for your phone call.” Luke deadpanned. “I started to worry you would pull that ‘I left my phone at the airport bar’ story.”

“I did cross my mind.” Tom let his head hit the back of the sofa. “Do I want to know?”

“Not really.” Luke winced. “They used the photo again.”

“Of course they fucking did!” Tom punched a nearby pillow. “I look like a twat. Luke, I need this to stop.”

Luke sighed. “Until something comes along that is better than this, expect it to hang around for a while. Unless you are planning on getting married in the next two days.”

Tom chuckled darkly. “Not bloody likely.” He sighed again. “Thanks for everything Luke.”

“It’s my job, mate. But you’re welcome.”

After Tom hung up, he stared first at the phone in his hand and then at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how he got here, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to get out. Tom decided instead to wallow in self-pity and eat a ridiculously expensive room service steak.

-

Weekends were always busy when there were special events over at the MGM arena. This weekend was no exception. And while it may not be good for Molly’s back, her bank account greeted every penny with a smile. Vegas may be a cheap place to live, but it still costs money. And her college did not accept IOUs for student loans. She shoved more tips into the jar behind the bar and helped the next person.

“What’ll be?”

“Whatever you have that is strong and on tap.” Tom’s smooth voice cut over the din of slot machines and video poker machines.

“Coming right up.” Molly poured him a beer, and he signed the receipt with his room number before sliding to the end of the bar.

Three hours later, Tom still sat at the end of the bar, nursing the same beer. Most of the crowd dissipated at this point. Celebrities needed their beauty sleep. Or at least most of them.

“Would you like to switch that one out for a cold one?” She leaned over, smiling. “On the house.”

“Sorry.” Tom blinked and glanced around, looking for a clock Molly imagined.

“No clocks.” she commented. “Or windows.”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Really?”

“The whole point of casinos is to keep people inside. Clocks and windows help people realize how much time has passed.” Molly replaced his beer. “The whole place is set up like a maze.”

Tom took a long draw of the fresh beer. “You seem to know an awful lot about casinos for a bartender.”

“You seem awfully forward for a movie star.” she snapped back. Tom’s eyes met yours. She shrugged her shoulders. “I have a friend who works at Regal Cinema, they let me in for free.”

“I’m having a bad day.” Tom muttered back. “You still didn’t answer the question.” He took another long draw, leaving the glass half empty.

“Oh, so we are adding pushy to your resume. I thought Brits were supposed to be charming. If you must know, I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s in Tourism from Arizona State.”

Tom opened his mouth to comment, but Molly cut him off.

“Funny thing about the tourism industry. You need experience to get a job, but you can’t get experience without having a job. Classic catch-22. Which does not pay my bills. So I bartend until I get hired somewhere.”

Tom felt like a prize idiot moping about his problems. He cleared his throat. “Apologies for my earlier behavior. I have been in a poor mood for the last several weeks and it has made me a terrible companion and customer.”

Molly smiled at him. The first truly friendly face in a while. “It’s fine. And you are entitled to a bad day.” She filled up his glass. “Once or twice. Share your troubles with me. Unless it is about which supermodel you should date next, then I don’t want to hear it.” she joked. Tom’s face fell. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Tom held up a hand. “Please don’t apologize. I take it you don’t read the magazines.”

“As a matter of course, no I don’t.” Suddenly a lightbulb went off. “Oh…”

Tom twisted his face into an exaggerated expression. “‘Oh’ is right. Usually followed by the words ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’.”

“And is she…”

Tom drained the glass. “Yep. Nominated for two awards.”

“Yikes! Well, if there is anything I can do, I am here all weekend.”

Tom stood up and left several twenty-dollar bills. “I might take you up on that. Thank you again for the conversation… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Molly Bishop”. she said, clearing his glass.

Tom offered his hand, and she shook it. “Tom.”

“I know.” she leaned in, her dark brown hair falling to the sides of her face. “Remember, you’re a movie star.”

Tom laughed. A real belly laugh. So loud that it jolted the old man at the other end of the bar awake. “I needed that. Thank you again. Have a good evening, day, morning.”

“It’s evening. Goodnight, Tom. Sleep well.”

Tom headed back towards the bank of elevators. He glanced over his shoulder to watch Molly wipe down where he had been sitting, shove the twenties into a tip jar, while tucking her hair behind her ears and help an obviously drunk couple. Tom made a mental note to find her again before he flew back and leave an even bigger tip.

-

Tom woke up the next morning and headed down to the gym to run on the treadmill. He would have preferred running outside but wanted to avoid people. After running five miles, he switched the machine off, wiped it and him down and headed upstairs to shower and change for the day. Tom wandered back downstairs in search of Molly, but the bartender on duty, a guy named Seth, mentioned she wouldn’t be back until the evening. Tom thanked him and headed back upstairs.

He was restless until it was time to get ready. After dressing, he took a selfie in the mirror and sent it to Illaria who confirmed he did it right. Now came the waiting game. Tom wanted to time it to avoid having to see her at all. Finally deciding he had wanted long enough, Tom called for the car and headed downstairs. What Tom forgot to account for was his incredible bad luck.

He arrived right after her and was forced to walk the red carpet, watching her out of the corner of his eye, with her arm linked around whatever man, boy, prey she ensnared for the evening. Tom plastered a killer smile on his face and continued to repeat the mantra in his head “Living well is the best revenge” when all he wanted to do is either trip her or return to his hotel room and eat an inordinate amount of chocolate cake.

The rest of the awards show blurred together into moments of white hot rage masked by a cool exterior and numbness. Thank god for the teleprompter or else Tom wondered if he would have made it through his presentation. But he did and thought he made it through the entire event without running into her and then…

“Tom!” her voice called out.

Tom froze and stiffened. What a difference a few weeks can make.

“Darling!” He spun on his heel to face her, smile firmly in place. He leaned forward and kissed her cheeks. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” he lied through his teeth.

“You too. I thought I might miss you. I just wanted to say—”

Tom waved her off. “Water under the bridge.” Another lie. Perhaps he missed his calling as a barrister or even a publicist. “Your date seems nice.”

She smiled. That smile that once melted his heart. “Thanks. He is. Where’s your—”

“Back at the hotel.” He checked his watch. “Which reminds me, I should head back. Big plans for the night.”

She blinked, and stutter stepped back. “Oh. Right.” She composed herself. “Well, it was nice to see you again. I hope we can be friends.” She held her arms open.

Fucking friends! Tom howled inside his mind. What was she playing at? More fodder for her songs? Tom seethed on the inside. He stepped forward to awkwardly hug her, praying there was no one around to snap a photo. Knowing her, though, she probably had someone in the balcony with a zoom lens.

“Of course, love.” He squeezed her a little too tight until she let loose a small yelp of pain. Tom allowed a genuine smile to come across his face. “I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the after party.” He walked away before she could continue on the conversation.

He waited until he was well out of earshot. “Bitch.”

-

The crowd started waning around 9:30 as the awards show let out. Molly figured most of the attendees would hit the after parties and things would pick up around 1 or 2 a.m. Until then, it would just be the regulars. She turned around to arrange the glasses she just cleaned when a now familiar voice rang out.

“Marry me.” Tom asked, his tie loosened.

“I don’t know you.” Molly teased back. “Now what will you have?”

“You as my wife.” Tom repeated, his palm flattened against the bar.

“Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you drunk?”

Tom shook his head. “Stone cold sober. Hear me out.”

She glanced around, seeing no plausible escape. “I’m listening. But if another customer comes up, I’m walking away.”

“I need something to move the paparazzi off this current news cycle with me.”

Molly smirked. “You ran into the ex. Did she have a new boy toy on her arm?”

“Yes, but that is beside the point.”

“It is entirely the point.”

Tom slammed his hand against the bar, rattling the container of nuts nearby. “Can I continue or are you going to keep interrupting?”

Molly crossed her arms. “Go on.”

“I need something to move the press off this story. You need money. We are the solution to each other’s problems.”

“You may be gorgeous, but if you think I am sleeping with you for money…”

“I never said sex. I said marriage. The last I checked, they could be mutually exclusive.” Tom’s expression softened. “Listen, you are clearly unhappy here. I am unhappy too. If us being together could alleviate a bit of that unhappiness, why wouldn’t we seize the opportunity? We get married. Get the paparazzi off my back. I would pay off your student loans and credit cards. And then after a year of living together, we quietly divorce. No sex. Just a business relationship.”

Molly chewed over what Tom said, while chewing on her bottom lip. He wasn’t wrong, she was unhappy. Vegas was supposed to be a brand new start, but it was more of the same. Dead end job and no career prospects on the horizon.”

“Did you say live together?”

“In London, yes. I have plenty of room. Your own space. You have a passport.”

“Yes.”

Tom’s face broke out in a wide grin. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The blood pounded in his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins. He looked up at her with his bright blue eyes.

“Will you marry me, Molly Bishop?”

“Yes.” she smiled back.

Tom leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Then let’s get going, because the licensing bureau closes at midnight.”

Molly headed over to the manager, Nick.

“I quit.” she shoved her apron at him.

“What? You can’t quit, Molly. The big rush is coming.”

“You heard the lady.” Tom called. “She quits.”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Her fiancé. Come on, darling.” Tom held out his hand. She lifted up the bar at the entrance and took his hand.

-

The two of you were full of nervous energy the entire cab ride to the licensing bureau, fitting right in with the other couples waiting to get a license. While you waited in line, Tom made some calls to several chapels until he found one open and able to squeeze the two of you in.

“Now all we need is to get you a dress and some rings.”

“Oh!” Molly dug through her purse. “My friend’s kid gave these to me.” She pulled out two plastic rings. “I think these will do in a pinch.”

Tom closed his hand over hers. “I’ll buy us proper rings tomorrow. Now a dress.”

“There’s a mall on the way. I can grab something on the way.” Tom kissed Molly’s forehead.

“You are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

Within an hour, Molly was wearing a simple white slip dress, Tom still in his suit from the awards show, although he did straighten up the tie. She smiled like a fool, holding onto a fake bouquet and Tom’s wedding ring, complete with a plastic spider in her hand.

Tom slipped on the plastic gem ring when the minister told him to, and she did the same with the spider ring. Tom giggled and so did Molly .

“I now pronounce husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

Tom leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. His lips were warm and soft. It was… nice. Under other circumstances, she imagined Tom would be an excellent kisser.

Tom gazed down at her. “Hello, Mrs. Hiddleston.”

“Hello, Mr. Hiddleston.”

[all-my-love-for-harry]

Delicate. — Part 1.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: Here we are fam, i gotta be honest with y’all, this is heavily inspired in the fact that i watched Miss Americana twice this month, what resulted in me going through my taylor swfit phase again. Pls bare with me, i haven’t written anything like this before.

catch up here!

They said artists become what they are because deep down they are as insecure if not more than normal people. Because they craved constant validation in what they do. 

At least it was the case for Y/n. 

A girl who has built an entire system around being accepted by the public, someone who their major source of happiness is provided by strangers all around the world. When you are living from the approval of strangers and that is where you drive all your joy and fulfillment, one bad thing can cause everything to go down. Y/n has spent her whole life trying to please the world so they would like her, so what she has achieved over the years would last. 

When the world turned their back on her, Y/n had no choice but to disappear, because she thought that was what everyone wanted. Even then, she made her choices around what she thought would make them happy.

Y/n knew she could not hide forever, but for now, it was a necessary evil she had to take. Deciding to take a break from everything was the healthiest decision she has ever made, shutting down her social media, getting out of the city and going back home with her family was exactly what she needed. 

"Mom was sad she couldn't pick you up from the airport."

Seventeen-year-old Jensen, whose driving license was still new and fresh, was the one who picked Y/n up when her flight landed. In complete honesty, she did not like using a private plane, but she could not risk someone seeing where she was going. Jensen was good at driving, well, he has not crashed into a tree yet, so they were safe. 

"She would've brought Chase and scare Pandora and Lizzie." 

Jensen chuckled. "She's obsessed with him. I haven't started college yet and she's already thinking about turning my room into Chase's." 

Her parents’ house was a gated property away from others since it was safer that way. Y/n would not stay there the whole time since she had her own apartment a little closer to town. Her luggage, as well as her cats, were picked up separately and taken to her home, she would go there after lunch with her family. Jensen parked next to a black range rover that belonged to their dad, meaning both of their parents were home. 

Y/n threw her backpack over her shoulder as she stepped out of the car, eager to finally reunite with her family, especially her mother. She is in desperate need of a tight hug, a mug of hot chocolate and a shoulder to cry on. Y/n did not realize how mentally drained she was until she saw her mother open the front door. 

"My baby!" Louise exclaimed, embracing her daughter in a tight hug. "How was the flight?" 

"It was fine. I'm starving though." 

They walked into the living room and Louise closed the door behind them. Y/n dropped her backpack on one of the couches and sighed in relief. “Where’s dad?” Jensen went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Get the white wine.” Y/n told him.

“It’s too early to drink that.” Louise took the bottle from Jensen’s hands and put it back in the fridge. “Dad’s outside. We bought some roses that will look beautiful by the pool.”

“You’re buying a lot of plants lately.” Y/n pointed a big vase full of daisies, her mom’s favorites, on the kitchen’s island. 

“I like supporting local business.” She shrugged.

“That and she’s obsessed with the owner of the flower shop.” Jensen chuckled, cracking open a water bottle. 

“Hey! That’s not true.” 

“Mom, you there like… every day. Who needs new flowers every day?”

“Shush.” The elder woman faked offense then gigged. “Handsome young man, he is. I’ll take you tomorrow.” She turned to Y/n. 

“Oh, no, mom. I’m going to lock myself in my apartment and try to write.” She said, making Louise scoff. “I’m serious!”

“I know you are. But living like a hermit is not going to do you any good.”

“I agree, sis.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowing they were right as always but did not want to admit it. The truth was, she wanted to write some songs, so badly, but could not find the right words. She was hoping to get some peace and quiet to get her ideas and emotions in order again. Before any of them could say anything else, David entered the kitchen while taking off his gardening gloves and smiled widely when he spotted Y/n.

“And who do we have here?”

“Hi, dad.” Y/n smiled at him brightly before wrapping her arms around her dad, who hugged her back just as tight. 

“Good to have you home, darling.” 

The family of four sat on the kitchen island and started to catch up. Jensen talked about his different college options and how he was considering getting a summer job this year. Louise kept talking about how nice the owner of this flower shop was, making emphasis on how he was also single. Y/n didn’t know what she was trying to do, but she didn’t pay much attention either. 

Overall it was nice for Y/n to get out of her head for a little bit, and her family was always a great help for that. She knew she still had a lot to deal with, and she would probably get a call from her publicist and a lot of other people soon, but for now, she just wanted to think about anything else that wasn't the whole world hating on her. 

"How are you doing, Y/n? Be honest." Her mom asked after they stayed alone in the kitchen.

"Been better." She sighed. "I don't want to think about it, mom."

"You have to talk to someone, sweetie. I know your team cares for you and is trying to handle the situation, but you can still talk to me."

"I know, thank you. I'm just trying to figure it what I'm going to do."

Louise sighed. "You sure you don't want to stay here? You have your room and everything."

"Thanks for the offer, mom. But I sort of want to be on my own." She said. "But I'll come for lunch every day, I promise."

Although Louise wasn't convinced by her daughter's words, she chose to not push it. She knew Y/n had her own ways to express her feelings, and she'd talk whenever she felt like it. So she let her go, making her promise she'd come to visit soon.

"Do you need a ride? I'm going to town anyway." Jensen offered, taking the keys of his car from the little plate they kept on the table beside the front door. 

"Yes, please."

The drive to her apartment wasn't a long one, and in less than ten minutes she was opening her front door and being greeted by her two beautiful cats rubbing themselves on her legs. Y/n sighed, thinking about how much she needed to unpack now that she was here. The truth was, she didn't know for how long she'd be staying here, but she figured it'd be a long time so she packed a lot. Now she kind of regretted it because she would probably be in her pajamas all day anyway. 

After cleaning Pandora and Lizzie's sandbox, Y/n decided to grab an acoustic guitar and try to come up with some melodies. She wasn't quite sure about any lyrics yet, but it was always good to have a little something to start a song. 

She went from playing the guitar to play the piano, hoping she'd get more inspirations somewhere. But she had nothing. Not even one decent note. She was empty. 

"Don't pretend is... mhmm. Think about the... No." She groaned and slammed the palm of her hands on the keyboard, growing frustrated. Why all of a sudden she couldn't even rhyme? Maybe she needed a break, or perhaps she was tired from her flight and tomorrow she'd be able to write something.

//

Turns out her writer's block was here to stay. A week has passed since her arrival and Y/n hasn't been able to finish one single song. Everything she started ended up being erased or in the middle of her living room after the ripped the page off her journal. 

"I told you, you shouldn't hurry. Inspiration will come eventually, it always does."

"I guess. I just have nothing else to do other than play scrabble with you and write songs, or at least try to."

"Let me take out then." Louise started and Y/n shakes her head. "C'mon, let's eat somewhere or buy groceries and I'll cock at your place." Y/n looked at her mom and realized she wouldn't stop until she accepted, so Y/n offered Louise a nod. "Marvelous. There's this little café that I absolutely love. You'll love the owner."

"What is it with you and the owners of local shops?"

"They're my friends. Oh! We could drop by Blossom House. You could use some flowers around your house so it would look like somebody actually lives there."

"Stop dragging me, woman."

Louise drove them to this café called Furry Cakes, which turned out to be a cat café. Y/n obviously lost it as soon as they walked in, and nearly cried when she saw all the kittens, and absolutely shed a tear when the girl behind the register said every kitty except for one named Chaster was up for adoption. She felt like a little girl all over again when her mom told her she couldn't take every single kitty home. 

Y/n was wearing a hoodie that was twice her size, plus some big sunglasses she refused to take off, even inside of the café. She was praying she wouldn't get recognized as she knew people were dying for a picture of her, see how she was after the entire world canceled her. 

"We'll leave the car parked here, the flower shop is just around the corner." Louise pulled from Y/n's hand to make her walk faster. There weren't a lot of people on the streets and she was grateful for that, she hasn't gotten a proper walk in what felt like ages. 

They stopped outside a modern-looking building with a big, bright sign that read 'The Blossom House'. It was simple yet cute. The pair stepped in and a little bell ringed. Y/n looked around, admiring how everything looked like it was straight out of a fairytale. There were little pots hanging from the ceiling and she looked up, she saw the ceiling was pure glass, which made the whole place brighter. Flowers weren't really her thing as she could barely keep them alive, but seeing this amount of flowers all in the same place... made her somewhat happy and warm inside. 

She was so deep in thought she didn't even realize her mom left her and was nowhere to be found. It doesn't look like it from outside, but the shop was actually big and very spacious. It was also empty right now, not even an employee was around, so she decided to have a look on her own. It looked like they had all kinds of flowers in here, which made her even more excited because that meant they had-

"Azaleas? They're also my favorites." A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. She jumped on her place as she wasn't expecting it, which made the person behind her chuckle. "I didn't mean to scare you, sorry."

"It's okay..." She turned around and it was fair to say that was she saw stunned her right away.

In front of her, a gorgeous looking man was standing there with a bright smile on his face. She noticed the two dimples poking at each side of his face, making his smile even more beautiful. His emerald green eyes were the greenest eyes she has ever seen in her life, she believed. He had crinkles by his eyes due to his smile being wide. But to her, the icing of the cake was the beautiful mop of chocolate curls he had on the top of his head. She suddenly felt the insane urge to run her hands through it just to see if they were as soft as they looked. 

"Harry, darling!" Louise appeared out of nowhere and wrapped her arms around the man, who only chuckled while reciprocating the greeting.

"Hello, Louise. What's it gonna be today? Tulips? More daisies?" Oh God, he's British. Y/n thought to herself. 

"Gosh, you know me so well. I'm actually here just to look around, I see you found my daughter though." She smirked.

"I surely did. I'm Harry, nice to meet you, love." He offered her a hand for her to shake.

Y/n was a little surprised by the pet name but took his hand nonetheless. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet you too."

"I want her to get some plants for her house." Louise spoke again.

"Well, you're in the right place then." He said. "Do you want them for your garden?"

"No, uhm... I don't have one. I live in an apartment."

"Personally, my favorite to keep indoors are Begonias." Harry guided the two women to a different section of the flower shop and pointed to some pretty ones in pink color. "But I also enjoy Daylilies, although they're a little harder to maintain."

"Yeah, maybe not those then. I'm not very good at keeping plants alive."

"She killed a cactus once." Louise mentioned. 

"No way." 

"I didn't know they'd drown if I watered them more than once a week!" Y/n defended herself. 

"Amateur mistake." He joked. 

The truth was Y/n was too busy to have a garden, she was always traveling and didn't stay too long in one place so even if she tries to have one, it'd be dead by the end of the month. 

"What plants are cat friendly? I have two at home."

"Bromeliads are cat friendly, they're easy to maintain too."

They looked around for a little bit. Harry said a fun fact about every type of flower Y/n pointed out, never failing to make her laugh. The funny thing was, it didn't look like Harry knew who she was. Either he hasn't recognized her, or he didn't know about her. Which by the way, not to be a narcissist, would be highly unlikely.

She ended up taking a couple of new plants home, starting to grow excited about them. It was true, her apartment could use a little more life to it, and now she was sure her new plants would do that for her. Harry was wrapping everything for them while he stood behind the counter.

"Oh, here. This one's on the house." Harry handed her a pot with some beautiful blue Azaleas. She took them with a growing blush on her face, a blush that went deeper when their hands brushed with each other. "Try to not kill them though." He teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes as her mom chuckled behind her. "I'll report their aliveness back to you, you'll see."

"You better. Have a nice day, ladies. I'm guessing I'll see you around, Y/n?"

"Sure, I'm uh... I'm living here right now."

Harry smiled at them one last time before they exited the shop. After the door closed behind them, Louise turned to Y/n. "He likes you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"What do you say if we invite him for dinner sometime?"

"Like, at your house?" She asked surprised.

"Yeah, why not?"

"I have to keep a low profile, mother. For all I know he could be tweeting about I just exited his shop."

"Don't let the paranoia ruin the possibility of forming new friendships... or more." Louise sent her a wink.

"Okay, that's enough."

Y/n brushed her off, trying not to think much about it. A new friendship sounded impossible at this point of her life, let alone pursuing a new relationship with someone. She had made up her mind, she was better off being alone.

[lizacstuff]

Liza that 3rd fragman 👀 "if I was born a 100 times I'd fall in love with you everytime" Eda saying this is their last obstacle and nothing can separate them, serkan's "I'll be right back, close your eyes I'm here" If this isn't all a red flag for shits about to hit the fan then I don't know what is LOL (but also how cute to Edser look and them telling each other they love each other very much 😭😭😭)

That fragman is both the SWEETEST and the MOST OMINOUS thing I’ve ever seen. ALL AT ONCE.  

Friends... we’re gonna go through some things.  That being said, everything is going to be great. These writers have been solid so far, and I have faith they have come up with something really interesting to increase the longevity of this show. And I don’t know about you, but I’m prepared to go through some things if it means keeping Eda and Serkan for longer.  (I heart them)

This show is about Eda and Serkan and their love story, at it’s core it’s a comedy, it will all lead to happy things, but... yeah, buckle up! 

I have a lot of asks both about the fragman and last ep, so I’m going to answer a bunch under the cut. 

Anonymous said: The fandom theories about episode 28 have gotten so wild that I literally think the most shocking thing would be if they actually got married and were not separated (emotionally or physically). What if the earlier painful episodes were to make us believe that things couldn't possibly go right in 28 and it's a reverse psychology trick?

You could be right!  I like your thinking. I checked on twitter and I had to back away slowly. The juvenile temper tantrums were too much for me today.  

Look, I think it’s clear something big is coming. It has to, there has to be something that shakes up the show. Some of the theories are more upsetting and catastrophic than others, but the writers won’t do anything that dings either character or their love for one another.  Whatever happens will showcase the connection between these two and the chemistry between the actors, that’s the point of everything, and anything that does those things is gonna be a-okay with me. 

@jan31​ Hi Liza. Do you think we are going to see the wedding in 28 or they will leave it on a cliffhanger for next week. Lots of theories going round mainly cos of Neslihan saying new dimensions coming in episode 29, which could just mean married life etc. I have seen suggestions of memory loss, it's all a dream since episode one. I would personally love Eda to wake up like in episode one but for it to be a total turn around and she is the boss and Serkan the employee. Eda being robot yildiz appeals to me!!! I know it will never happen but leave me here with my dreams!!

I started the day at 90% sure they’ll be married in 28/29, but now I’m down to like 30% that they’ll get married in these episodes. I really, really want them to get married before whatever happens happens, because every scenario I can think of for this reset or starting again, seems like it would be better if they were married.  

However, the shooting spoilers from today, make me question that. Namely the videos where Hande appears to still be wearing the ring on her right hand. We shall see, that could be for many reasons. 

Honestly, though, I wouldn’t hate a memory loss storyline. Seeing one of them (and Serkan’s line in the trailer makes it seem like it might be him) lose their memory and have to fall in love all over again? There are worse fates for a shipper than getting to experience that all again but in a different way.  

Anonymous said: Your response to the fandom drama anon was so good, it's exactly how I feel. While I don't know what the old posts that were like are (that's shady as fuck) I did see all the other drama go down and wow. The actresses def need to stay in their lane and some of the fans, hoooo boy, it's obvious they're young based off their reactions alone. Had to unfollow some people once I realized what they were like. Also some of the IRL shipping reminded me of col*fer stuff, reading into everything and blowing it out of proportion (which then gets picked up by paps....). But you're right in that at least the show related drama is tame compared to OUAT. But still, people being too careless even while they know the paps see everything and harass Kerem and hande (omg did you see the video of hande the other day stopped in the van and she looked so overwhelmed 😔)

You’re referencing this post here about yesterday’s drama. 

Today Neslihan made it worse by addressing everything and claiming she didn’t like all those Hande-bashing posts because... wait for it... she was HACKED. Oy. Hackers got in and went back two years to like gross posts about Hande? Sure, Jan. While I don’t believe that for a second, I guess that at least gives her cover with Hande so they can all pretend it’s true and move on so it’s not awkward on set.  But, yikes, she needs to consult a publicist, she took a narrative that was circulating in certain circles in fandom and made sure all her followers were aware. Not very savvy. 

As for the paps coming after Hande, yes I did see her in the car, she did look overwhelmed. Back off vultures!!! That’s why I think Kerem sometimes throws himself to the wolves so that doesn’t happen. She always handles them like a pro, but you can tell she’d rather be anywhere else on earth than talking to them. 

The pap stuff is worse than I’ve seen before, they’re like vultures circling for any conjecture (sometimes made up out of thin air) they can turn into a question and blame fans. OUAT actors dealt with nothing like this. Also I can’t believe they never ask about the show. Like after last week? They could legit ask about the sex scene which probably would have given them some angle on the actors that they wanted, (especially since it was too hot for Turkish TV) but they let that pass them by, and instead asked the same questions about being together that they never answer. Dumbasses. They are not only awful people, they are awful at their jobs. 

In Van, the paps pay off crew members for info, they always know more than fans. Also I don’t remember stars of my shows getting this level of tabloid attention before. Except for on Riverdale, Lili and Cole generated that level of interest, and while I didn’t pay terribly close attention to them, I feel like they rarely talked to the paps, were just photographed. Also I don’t suspected the CW of calling the paps on them, but I suspect either the network or production company of sometimes calling them on Hande and Kerem. 

Anonymous said: Do you think it’s weird that they didn’t touch the kidnapping at all in either trailer? They might not have filmed it in time for the 1st one but certainly the 2nd. And I’m definitely not complaining about the ones we got because its like a fairytale but the kidnapping was the cliffhanger...? 🧐 I think they should’ve just left the princes storyline at “he went back to his country” but then they didn’t so......

If they’d left his story at just going back to his country, then the Prince really wouldn’t have served his purpose. He was brought on to cause some sort of trouble, so they probably need him to cause the trouble before he goes, lets hope it ends with this kidnapping!

And to answer your question, yes, I do think it’s weird that neither trailer touched on it. On any other show I’d think it was a huge red flag, but on this show maybe not as much because  a) there’s obviously a lot of romance in this episode, it’s not crazy that they are focusing on that to draw people in with the promos  b) this show likes to do cliffhangers that end up being no big deal, that happens a lot.  

Who knows it could turn out to be a big deal that shapes the rest of the episode in some unexpected way (Eda’s captured the whole episode and she’s dreaming about wedding prep, or... who knows) but I think it’s more likely that they resolve in the first 5-10 minutes and then move on.  Since we know from the summary (not that I trust those) that Serkan goes on the bachelor weekend, it feels like the Prince is taken care of prior to that. I don’t think he’d leave her alone for a second if there was a chance the Prince was still a threat. Perhaps Babaanne is pissed he tried to kidnap Eda and tells them she’ll handle it herself???

Anonymous said: Semiha not being in the promo is highkey suspicious. The actress is promoting the episode lol. She's about to Evil Queen this wedding ceremony but you know what, I'm fine with whatever she has planned if they end up married at the end of the day. What's funny is that since a lot of fans these days will assume that there will be shocking negative plot twists, not actually having one here would be a plot twist so I hope the writers keep them together for whatever's next haha

You’re not wrong, at this point, having this wedding take place would be a shocking twist for all of us!  As for Semiha... hmmm... it will be interesting to see what her reaction is to Eda being kidnapped by her pick of suitor. Serkan Bolat might be the son of the man indirectly responsible for her parents death, but he would never hurt her. Take note, Grandbag!  

Anonymous said: Do you mind sharing your speculative scenarios?

After the trailer today, I don’t know if I can even remember some of them. 

Memory loss

Grandma forces Serkan to choose between Eda and his company/wealth,  he chooses Eda and they start over from scratch with nothing

Time jump

AU starting over, showing a different path they might have taken together

Dream

These actors playing different characters in a new story

I don’t think the last three are likely, but they did spring to mind after some of Neslihan’s teases. 

Anonymous said: So this show doesn't get like fantastic ratings (it actually seems to be on the lower end compared to all other dizis airing) but the social media engagement is off the charts. Why is that?!? Is the show just extraordinarily popular internationally? or that this is a "shipping" show? I'm floored by the numbers - its like no other show/fandom is even trying

The ratings were terrific during the summer. But to your point, it has a huge fandom both in Turkey and internationally, but it’s worth noting that most of those charts you see where it beats every other show in every imaginable social metric is just for Turkey.  

It’s one of those lightning in a bottle situations where you get the right property and the right actors together at the right time and magic happens.  And, for sure, the number one reason is the shipping. Shipping drives fandom engagement, and a fantastic ship with a juicy, fun, tropey love story is what this show offers. It also offers up two extremely attractive, talented, likeable leads with off-the-charts chemistry (plus the added speculation about an off-camera relationship that has intrigued more than a few fans, tabloids and gossip sites and fueled interest) who have done a good job of building the fanbase through their social media engagement. Plus the timing is part of it as well. I don’t know about you, but this show hit the spot during this pandemic and the horror of 2020. We all needed this escape. 

Anonymous said:Do you think something happened in the writers room after the backlash of 25 and fan disappointment after Ayse's announcement? I feel like a switch flipped and now we're in fanficland with how much good content we've gotten in these last two episodes. Like I thought maybe they should wrap up the series soon before the characters got completely off the tracks but they may be finding their groove now and I'm interested to see what their next twist is after they can write out Balca/Seymen.

I don’t know about a switch flip, this show has been fanfic land since the first episode!  The tropes! That is how I described it to multiple people when I first started watching: an AU fanfic come to life.

As for the writing changes, no, I don’t think backlash after 25 affected 26 or 27, because 26 was already 90% shot, and 27 already written. However, I assume they themselves could tell that 25 got just too dark and had strayed pretty far from the DNA of the series. While I didn’t think it was bad, it was not fun to watch and this show ought to be fun to watch. 

Let’s hope, however, that the backlash affects future episodes in that they know what works... and what doesn’t.  The last two episodes definitely felt reminiscent of the first batch of episodes. Light, funny, romantic. If they can keep that tone... I’ll be thrilled.

Anonymous said: i didn't realize how much i missed "together" edser until watching 27.. it's been so long since they were "officially" together and we also had such few episodes of it.. ppl have been comparing it to 12 and while in some ways i agree, edser are always so different here than they were there. 12 was them navigating their new relationship.. they were more shy and finding their footing.. here they are very much established, as they should be after knowing their love for so long in comparison to 12!

Yes, it was lovely. You know I’ve preached a lot about how even though Eda and Serkan were broken up, they’ve still been together all this time. And it’s true, but there is something about them truly being together that is magical. We never got enough of that the first time around (a writing mistake in my opinion) and they’re so good together it’s lovely to watch. 

Anonymous said: Serkan not asking for help from Balca when asking his team for help with the marriage gifts preparations and refusing her offer of help when she asked made me so happy. Good job Serkan! He's learning! She's not trustworthy!

Yes, that was a good moment. And he was eyeing her very warily when she offered. The thing I don’t understand is how has no one caught on that she’s working with Babaanne? That entire office is filled with nosy people, has no one remarked on the number of times Balca has gone up to the office or they’ve disappeared for lunch at the same time? Come on Leyla! Come on Melo! Notice these things!  

Anonymous said: Fingers crossed that we finally make progress towards getting rid of Seiman & Balca now that all the girls were drugged and Eda was put in the car in the last episode. Unless Seiman has a change of heart and takes Eda back inside before anyone wakes & the guys get there then the show has to address it. Although I do not think Balca is going to back down unless Serkan straight up tells her he has zero interest in her and never will. Totally fine if that happens in the next episode.

Will Balca backdown even if she’s humiliated like that? She’s so delusional I’m not sure. What I am sure is that she’s dangerous. This came in before we saw the other two fragmans that have no mention of the kidnapping. Hard to picture how that is so easily resolved. Unless she frees herself (which seems unlikely in her groggy state) or maybe Melo’s future boyfriend is able to stop it before they get far?  Or I don’t know. I just know that I want to see Serkan lose his mind and all the other characters see Serkan lose his mind and then I want it to be over. LOL.

Anonymous said: As much as I am loving everything Edser, I cannot wait for Seiman, Balca and Grandma to be gone. And I am even more annoyed to think that the show might try to redeem all 3 characters. All 3 of them are truly awful people and no need to waste air time trying to make the audience think any different. Just my opinion...🤷🏻‍♀️. Show please finally expose those 3 for the psychos they are and get rid of them.

Bye bitches!  I don’t think there’s any redemption for Balca and Seiman. They both have poisoned/dosed people, hard to come back from that.  And there is no need to redeem them because neither is compelling enough to be a long-term character. But maybe Granny, we probably will see a redemption arc for her. 

Anonymous said: i know you were worried a few weeks ago that with ayse leaving as writer, we probably wouldn't have the same sort of comedy as previous episodes... but istg the whole kiz isteme scene, especially with chef alex, had me almost crying with laughter. especially when serkan off the cuff just goes "well if that's an option..." to everyone misunderstanding alex "wanting" ayfer for 2 nights and then eda ready to beat him with the flowers he bought her... comedic gold lmao.

SO GOOD! I was thrilled to see that sort of comedy, the sort of comedy we’d come to expect, from these writers. I think it bodes very well indeed!  

That scene was amazing. I know Neslihan said that much of it was improvised. Probably that line from Serkan (since Serkan is SO out-of-his-mind in love I’m not sure he could even joke about having Eda only two nights a week! LOL) was improv from Kerem, and Aydan asking about the other nights, and Seyfi bringing up the weekend. And Eda’s very Hande-esque “Ser-KAN.” 

I just love rewatching that scene and checking out everyone who is breaking character and just losing it. Cagri most of all. He’s blurred aback there but you can see Ferit spends the whole time laughing or trying to stifle a laugh. Reminds me of Cagri in the scene in 18 when they’re watching the security footage he was losing it in that scene as well. 

Anonymous said: i'm scared - I think they are really about to give us all of these happy EdSer scenes only to have something happen RIGHT before the wedding ceremony due to Babaanne. Based on the last episode, I don't think there's any chance of a breakup (knock on wood) but what if Serkan gets arrested, goes to jail for 2 years, and we get a time jump?

This was sent before the last two teasers, so yes I think something is gonna happen. We shall see!  I don’t really think Serkan going to jail for 2 years is in the cards, at least I hope not!  Besides if Babaanne did that she would have no hopes of ever reconciling with Eda, so that seems unlikely she’d follow through and leave him there for so long a time. 

Anonymous said: With the last week's sex scene, they did a lot of fade outs but the scene was basically still there so it wasn't much wasted effort for the actors. But for what they're teasing in episode 28 - idk how they can get away with showing them in the shower at all if Serkan lifting Eda with her clothes on had required blurring? Is Eda dropping her robe even pushing it? It's intriguing indeed.

Great questions. We’re 36 hours from finding out (well I'm longer than that because I wait for the English subs, hee hee) All I know is I want to see these scenes.. one way or another! 

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Chapter 6

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn't really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma's teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn't come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, AO3

~*CS*~

Chicago, May 15th

Emma could feel a headache starting to bloom at the base of her skull.  She hadn’t gotten enough sleep, which wasn’t unusual, and she’d only had the chance to drink one cup of coffee since the day started, which was.  To make matters worse the sound check had been going wrong since the beginning and she had been forced to play the first verse of Bite of Iron four times, never making it past the first line of the chorus before having to start again.

“Alright, Emma, let’s see if that fixed it.  Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded, biting her cheek against the tirade she wanted to let loose.  Barely a minute in the sound tech interrupted her again.  Flexing her hands into fists over the keys of the piano she counted to ten, then did it backwards before speaking into her mike.

“Can we take a break?”

“Su-”

“They’ve almost got it, Emma.  Right gentleman?” Regina broke in from the side of the stage where she was standing with the others since they weren’t needed for the song.  She had barely looked up from her phone and was still typing away as she continued, “You do want it to sound right, don’t you?  Let them do their job and then you can move past this one.”

At Regina’s words something in Emma snapped.  She stood abruptly from her piano, a loud buzzing in her ears.  Someone, she wasn’t entirely sure who, started saying something to her but she barely heard what they were saying as she practically ran offstage.  All she wanted was to get a lungful of fresh air, anything to ease the clawing at her throat.

In her rush to find an exit that led outside she ended up getting turned around and completely confused as to where she was.  The clawing feeling had traveled down to her chest, compressing her lungs so it was getting hard for her to breathe.  Before she could lose her shit completely a warm hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged gently.

“Follow me, love.”

She let Killian lead her through the labyrinth like corridors, barely paying attention to the turns they were taking or the doors they were going through.  However, when they entered a stairwell she paused.

“Killian…”

He looked back at her, giving her an encouraging smile, “Trust me?”

It wasn’t even a question to her.  Somehow, in the month since they’d been thrown together he had become someone she trusted completely.  She nodded and his smile widened as he squeezed her hand and began their ascent.  Though she found she was distracted from their progress again at the sight of her hand in his, not to mention the way his jeans hugged his ass as he climbed.

All too quickly Killian opened a door that had sunshine streaming into the stairwell and the heat of the day rolling over them.  He had taken her to the roof of the auditorium.  It was dotted with air conditioning units and not much else but she noticed that it did have a pretty good view of the city that was sprawled out all around them.

“It’s not much but it’ll give you some time to yourself-” he held out a slim silver can that she hadn’t noticed before, “I hadn’t seen your ubiquitous starbucks cup today so I thought you might want this.  Come back down when you’re ready and don’t worry about Regina, I’ll handle it.”

Taking the can of coffee, the one that was on her rider for the days exactly like the one she’d been having, a brand that could only be found in the corner of Maine that Storybrooke inhabited and that Killian had clearly gone to the green room to get before finding her, she was suddenly overwhelmed in a different way than before.  No one, not even Mary Margaret and David had known exactly what she needed when things got overwhelming and provided it without question or needing an explanation.  He made to leave but she gripped his hand in hers, holding him in place.

“Stay?” She asked softly, “Please?”

His eyes searched hers before he seemed to find what he was looking for.  With a nod he walked them over to a small strip of shade provided by the stairwell housing and sat with his back against it.  Once he settled he patted the spot next to him, wordlessly inviting her to join him.

The surface of the roof was warm when she sat but not uncomfortably so.  There was a slight breeze, not enough to dry the sweat that was gathering at her temples but enough to break the heat of the day.  Emma could hear the traffic moving along and through the city, a not so unpleasant hum that matched the air conditioning units kicking on and off to make a bit of a song.  She felt herself smile at the thought of putting lyrics to the sounds and then snorted in amusement at the fact that it was easier to make up a song on the fly than to play one she’d intentionally written.

“Something funny, Swan?” Killian asked, his own voice laced with humor.

“Only if you’re me,” she said wryly, snapping open the coffee and drinking near half of it one one go.  She tipped her head back and stared up at the cloudless blue sky, “Did you know?”

“Hmm?  Know what?”

She kept her gaze trained upwards but could imagine his eyebrow ticked up in slight confusion and intrigue, “When you said to play Bite of Iron, did you know that I’d never played it live before?”

“Not once?” She shook her head and he gave a low hum, “No, love, I didn’t.  It is a beautiful song, it’s a shame the sound guys did it such an injustice.  No wonder you stormed off.”

For a moment she almost didn’t want to correct him.  There really was no reason to explain or even justify her behavior.  She was sure that he’d seen worse from others in the business, she’d seen it herself.  The thing was she wanted to tell him the truth of what had upset her.  It was like the words were pressing against her lips, ready to spill out into her lap.  Just as she made up her mind to go through with it, absolutely certain that he wouldn’t judge or condemn her, he began to speak.

“Everyone assumed Milah was the diva of the group and she could be, if the occasion called for it, as could I.  But Liam-” he chuckled and then sighed, “Liam never gave into theatrics but if things weren’t going exactly how he wanted it he could, and would, let his displeasure be known.  He once refused to board our tour bus one evening because the driver had decided to take a nap and got to the venue nearly an hour late.  We had to charter a plane to make it to our next stop on the tour because Liam’s obstinance caused an even bigger delay to our departure.  The label made him pay for the cost of the plane from his own pocket.  Served the git right.”

Emma sat completely still, entranced.  He hadn’t talked to her about Liam since Cincinnati and she’d noticed that he’d been writing in his notebooks more since then.  She had a feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same push that she was to share the painful parts of his past.  To trust her with them.

“You miss him,” she said softly but surely.  It was easy to hear the longing in his voice.

“Aye, I miss them both.  It’ll be twelve years and I still expect Liam to come walking into my apartment calling me ‘little brother’ or I’ll wake and reach for Milah across the empty bed-” his hand clenched on his thigh before he sighed again, “There’s a constant ache in my chest for missing them.”

She didn’t know what to say, what he would want to hear.  There had been precious few people in her life that she felt that strongly about and she had never lost any of them.  Just thought of either of the Nolans or Ruby being taken from her as Killian’s brother and fiance had been had her breath backing up in her throat.

“This probably wasn’t what you had in mind when you escaped, was it?” he asked, nudging her shoulder with his. “Apologies.”

“Don’t,” she said quickly, grabbing onto the hand that was still clenched on his thigh. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about them.  I get the feeling you don’t do it very often.”

“That I don’t-” he unclenched his hand and she let hers settle in his open palm, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest as she did. “It was too hard at first, I’d lash out or dive deeper into the bottle, most times both, and then people just stopped asking.  Decent people that is, the gossip rags and paps are the soulless exception.

“Milah hated them from the start.  They followed her around more than the rest of us seeing as she was the lead singer and a beautiful woman to boot.  Once they got it in their minds we’d been romantically involved for longer than we had been they were relentless.”

Emma tried to hide her surprise at learning that nugget of information but with her hand in his he appeared to have felt it.  He grinned, his eyebrow raising in an unasked question.

“It’s just, uh, I thought that you guys were, um, high school sweethearts,” she meant to make it sound like a statement yet it came out like a question.

He laughed, a small but genuine thing, his free hand scratching at the back of his neck, “Our publicist spun it like that and we went along with it for interviews and such.  More romantic he liked to say.  Truth was even though we’d gone to the same secondary school she was in Liam and Robin’s year and I’d hardly spoken to her then.  It was only when they started playing together after they’d left that I got to know her.  She seemed so sophisticated and worldly to my scrawny teenage ass, even though she was only three years older than me and had never left our tiny village either.

“It wasn’t until during our first real tour that we gave into the attraction that’d been growing between us.  From then on it was like throwing a match at a puddle of petrol.  It was us against the crazy world we’d been thrust into and we thrived on it,” he said with a frown. “We partied a little too hard, fought a little too meanly, and were dependent on each other in ways I know now weren’t healthy.  I loved her deeply, I always will, and I know she loved me but sometimes I wonder if we would have made it had she lived.”

“I think…” Emma paused, wanting to get the words right and not completely destroy whatever it was that was growing between them at the same time, “You kinda seem like a guy that wouldn’t let something like that slip through your fingers.  The way you were talking about her just now?  I think you would have fought like hell to stay together.”

“I’d like to think so,” he said, ducking his head. “Liam would say the same thing when I voiced my doubts.  He’d been dead set against it at first and wasn’t too pleased with how we behaved most days but he always said he understood how much we loved each other.  Of course he also understood that we wrote some of our best songs once we got together.”

“Some of your best songs,” she said thoughtfully, drawn back to the reason she’d fled the stage, “You were right about Bite of Iron, you know.  When you suggested it I was trying to figure out why the set didn’t seem right.  The Boston crowd was so surprised when I started playing it.”

“It’s an exceptional song, Swan.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Do you know what it’s about?  I mean, you’ve obviously listened to it a lot since you knew it would work out.”

The tips of his ears tinged pink, “I’ve listened to it a time or two.  It’s a love song is it not?  Or rather, a love lost song?”

She snorted, only half in amusement, “Something like that.  Everyone knows that I’m an orphan and all that jazz, I’ve never hid it and Regina says that it’s my ‘thing’.  You know, the thing that makes me unique.”

“Bollocks, you make yourself unique,” Killian said heatedly, squeezing her hand in emphasis, “Your songwriting, your playing, everything about you sets you apart from the chaff.”

It was her turn to blush, “I mean, obviously, but, you know, it’s Regina.”

“Aye, she’s not one prone to mincing her words,” he scoffed.

“No, but she has my back and knows how to bury things.  Like how I went to juvie and had a baby.”

Her attempt at nonchalance fell flat as Killian stiffened beside her.  She steeled herself, ready for him to pull away from her both physically and emotionally.  While she absolutely believed he wouldn’t think less of her or go to the press with the information she had no idea what his reaction could be.

“Did you- was it-” he huffed out a breath through his nose, clearly frustrated.  A muscle in his jaw was ticking but when he looked at her his gaze was soft, “I’m sorry that happened to you, love.”

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard.  Coming from anyone else she would have brushed it off as a platitude or pitying.  Killian sounded like he was the one who had caused it all and was apologizing for it.  She felt a glowing warmth expanding inside her, giving her the courage to continue.

“I didn’t do it, in case you were wondering.  I was young, stupid, and in love, not the greatest combination-” she deadpanned, shrugging one shoulder.  Taking a deep breath she forged on, “I had just turned seventeen and was on my own since I’d had the bright idea of running away from the Nolan’s.  I don’t even remember why now, probably some fucking teenage angst or something.  Doesn’t matter.  So I met this guy, Neal.  And he was older and knew how to survive on the streets and he got me.  Just… understood all the shit I’d gone through with the whole orphan thing and didn’t judge me for it.  We had this whole outlaw life, living in the back of this car I’m pretty sure was stolen, sneaking into motel rooms when people checked out for a few hours, and stealing but only food.  Well, I thought it was only the food.

“A few months after we got together he comes up to me in a panic, telling me how the cops are after him because of some watches he’d stolen and left at the bus depot and how he’s gotta go to Canada and I couldn’t go with him-” she gave Killian a rueful smile, “You probably know how well that went over.”

“Like a lead balloon I’m guessing,” he murmured with a somewhat pained chuckle.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “So I come up with this brilliant plan, yeah?  Why don’t I go get the watches?  Prove to him that he needed me and obviously the cops wouldn’t be looking for a teenage girl, right?  He just lit up when I told him, said I was a genius and gave me the key to the locker he’d stashed the watches in.  It worked, I got those damn watches.

“When I got back to where Neal was hiding out he gave me some song and dance about fencing the watches to get the money we need to go to Canada.  How I couldn’t go with him because the guy he had to deal with doesn’t like strangers or whatever.  Before he leaves, though, he gives me one of the watches, a giant clunky thing covered in diamonds that was worth a hell of a lot more than anything I had ever owned in my life.  He tells me-” she scoffs and scowls at the memory, “tells me he doesn’t want me to be late for when we were supposed to meet back up.  I swallowed every word, spent the whole day dreaming up all sorts of plans of what our life was going to be like in Canada while I waited for it to be the time we’d agreed on.  I wasn’t late but neither were the cops who’d been tipped off that I’d be there holding stolen property.  The fucking, lying, sneaky asshole had left a couple of the watches in my backpack along with the one he’d put on my wrist.  Got a year in juvie for being his goddamn scapegoat.”

“But you were innocent,” Killian spluttered, moving to stand until she grabbed his arm and forced him to stay next to her.

“Which is part of the reason why I went to juvie instead of prison,” she said calmly, even though she was amazed he was indignant on her behalf. “They couldn’t prove I had anything to do with actually stealing the watches, just that I had some of them on me.  The other part was being closer to seventeen than eighteen.  Another month older and I think they would have tried me as an adult.”

“They caught him at least?  This Neal?” Killian spat out the name, his lips curling back in disdain.

“I don’t know and I don’t really care anymore,” she answered honestly.

He nodded as if it made sense before lowering his eyes and asking hesitantly, “And the… erm… the babe?”

She sighed and felt as if she had dredged it up from deep in her soul.  Her hand was still on Killian’s arm and he placed his other on hers, squeezing her fingers gently.  Somehow she knew if she said she didn’t want to talk about it he’d understand and wouldn’t push and that more than anything gave her the courage to keep going.

“I found out I was pregnant about a month into my sentence and the first person to congratulate me was a guard passing by my cell.  I think that more than anything made me realize how much I’d fucked up.  The next time I had phone privileges I called Mary Margaret and David.  Back then I told myself that it was because they were the only number I had memorized but I think deep down I knew they wouldn’t judge me or just brush me off as a runaway they had no obligation to help anymore.  Mary Margaret took the next flight out to Phoenix and David came a few days later.  It was the first time I’d ever felt really, truly loved.  They could only stay for a week but we became a family in that week.”

She could feel her throat tightening but kept talking, “The Nolans were there for me the whole time, as much as they could be with their jobs and the group home.  They even said they would help me raise the baby, if that’s what I wanted.  I couldn’t do it though, I wasn’t ready to be a mom.”

“Swan-”

“Did you know that they handcuff you to the bed when you’re in custody of the state and in labor?” She plowed on, determined to finish, “Like I’d make a run for it while a human being came tearing out of me.  The cuffs were steel but it doesn’t sound as poetic.  I didn’t even hold him.  I knew I wouldn’t let him go if I did.”

She had managed to keep the tears that had gathered in her eyes from falling until that moment.  It was something she’d only admitted once before, to Mary Margaret on her son’s first birthday.  Before she could think to wipe the tears away Killian was doing so with a warm and gentle touch.

“You’re incredibly brave, Emma, did you know that?” He asked, his voice full of awe.

“I wasn’t ready to be a mom,” she repeated shakily, “I knew that giving him up was the best thing for the both of us.”

“Would you want to find him?  Now?”

She shook her head before his questions were finished, “I already did, or a private investigator did.  He’s happy with his adopted family, he’s got a brother and friends and a good life.  He doesn’t need me coming in and making a mess of it.”

“You wouldn’t make a mess of it,” Killian said vehemently.

“Yeah, I would,” she said patiently.  She gave him a sad smile, “Let’s for a second forget the fact that we’re sitting on the roof of a venue that in six hours will have forty-five hundred people waiting to hear me play.  Just the fact that his birth mom would come out of nowhere and decide to insert herself into his life is bad enough.  With all this shit on top of it?  No, he’s happy and that’s all I need to know.  If someday he decides to find me then I’ll be ready to be a part of his life, but only when he’s ready not before.

“Anyway-” she plowed on, “playing Bite of Iron brings all that shit up again.  It’s why I’ve never put it in the lineup before.”

“And then my ignorant ass goes and pushes you to do just that,” Killian spat out bitterly.

He pulled his arm out from under hers but she immediately grabbed his hand, unwilling to part with the comfort his touch had given her.

“It was more like a gentle nudge,” she said teasingly, glad to see his mouth tick up for a moment in amusement.  She sobered, “I wouldn’t have put it in if I didn’t want to play it.  It’s been eleven years and I can’t heal or whatever if I keep it all bottled up inside.  It actually hasn’t been that bad, playing it every night, today was just… a little too much with the constant interruptions and then having to half play it over and over.”

“Well, your diva fit was well justified, I’d say.”

She surprised herself with a burst of laughter.  Killian was clearly trying to lighten the mood, she could still see tension in the way he held his shoulders and the slight furrow of his brow, but he was making the effort for her.  The glowing warmth from earlier expanded and morphed into butterflies.  Leaning into him she pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, for helping me escape.”

Killian looked dumbfounded, his mouth dropped open in surprise.  She grinned at his stupor.  Rising to her feet she felt like she could play Bite of Iron twenty times in a row if he was the one listening, watching her with that same soft look on his face.  Just as she was about to say as much or something even more ridiculously sappy the door leading to the roof opened.

“Oh, thank God, you are up here!” Tink breathed out as soon as she caught sight of them, sounding immensely relieved. “Regina’s either going to murder you or make you pay out of pocket for the time she says you’ve wasted.  Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

“I-” Emma patted her back pocket and winced when she hit nothing but her ass, “Shit, I think I left it on the piano.”

“Do not tell Regina that,” Tink said horrified. “Tell her it died or spontaneously combusted or whatever, anything that will keep her from blowing another gasket.  She’s already muttering about breach of contract.”

“It’s only a breach of contract if I don’t play tonight, not the goddamn soundcheck from hell,” she rolled her eyes.

Killian stood and Emma winced again as Tink’s eyes widened as she noticed him.  Tink turned her bewildered gaze to her and Emma knew she would be facing a full inquisition at some point.  Not wanting to give away anything more than she already had she avoided both Tink and Killian’s gazes as she marched to the door.

“Come on, let’s get Regina’s tantrum and the rest of soundcheck out of the way and then go find some deep dish pizza.  My treat.”

As she stepped back into the air conditioned stairwell she breathed a sigh of relief that Tink had interrupted them when she did.  She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for whatever leap she’d just taken when it came to Killian.  She also wasn’t entirely sure she shouldn’t have leaped further.

[lihikainanea]

night time has fallen and I’m fuckin FUSSY and all of the fussy Tiger blurbs are hittin’ hard tonight BUT i just had a thought as i do it myself <s>because i too have a oral fixation</s>: Tiger chewing on toothpicks??? - 🐎

Oh man babes, this got me all kinds of fucked up so let’s talk about it.

I’ve seen this habit frequently in smokers, especially if they are in a circumstance that doesn’t allow them to smoke, or they’re trying to quit. Gum, too--in fact, that’s the only plausible reason I can think of as to why Bill was allowed to attend the first IT premiere in LA with that giant fucking obnoxious wad of gum in his mouth that he also chewed obnoxiously. I’m sorry, I love the dude. I do. But publicists are trained for this. And if I was his publicist, the only way I’d allow that to happen is if he genuinely told me he needed it to stay calm--which I suspect may have been the case.

Otherwise it would have been a situation like me chasing around a dog 4x my size going “What are you chewing on? Show me! What’s in your mouth? GIVE IT TO ME GET BACK HERE--”

But right, listen, tiger does it to pacify her oral fixation when she can’t have Bill’s thumb. Except you know who notices? You know who gets really needy when this happens?

Bill.

Listen, tiger barely registers that she has an oral fixation, right? That sounds like loser talk to her. Tiger doesn’t need anything.

But maybe Bill has been real soff for his sweet girl these days, just a little more protective of her because she’s been a bit tired and wearing herself a bit thin as she’s prone to do. And maybe he doesn’t realize it, but perhaps he has also been a bit tired, a bit stressed or anxious, and his default when he feels that way is to just focus on her and all of her needs, make sure they’re taken care of, because that’s what makes him feel better.

So look, maybe they’re out. And it’s probably something still low key-- a friend is having a small group over for dinner and game night or something. And tiger is probably a bit restless, a bit indecisive, a bit fussy but maybe she thinks that going over and spending some time with some friends--her Big Dude there too--might do her some good, get her mind off things. She can have some good dranks, let her competitive streak run a little wild, and overall just...replace some antsy feeling with some good ones. Bill is not convinced, but tiger doesn’t really leave room for negotiation. She’s going, Big Bird.

And look, tiger is kind of right. Sometimes this plan backfires--when you’re fussy and you surround yourself with people, god that can backfire drastically--but sometimes, it also...it just doesn’t. Maybe she is having a good time, or at the very least, she’s focused on something different. There’s some good wine flowing, some good food, and everybody is just kind of moving around and chatting and it’s nice.

And it’s not that tiger is getting more fussy, necessarily, but it’s just that maybe she’s letting her guard down a bit, she’s finally got some good feelings, and whether she realizes it or not it has her kind of reaching for some comfort--and her first inclination, which she never realizes--is to try and pacify her little oral fixation.

It starts out with a thumb nail, the way she just chews idly on it, but then she realizes that that’s gross so Bill keeps seeing her drop her hand quickly. But then she finishes her martini, polishes off the olives--and she keeps the toothpick. She sticks it in her mouth and kind of just chews lightly on it, keeps it there, swipes her tongue around it.

And look, when Bill sees that? He’s dying. Because he knows. He’s not sure if she’s getting even fussier because she hasn’t shot him that look of total despair yet, that look that says oh god please big guy get me outta here, or if maybe she’s starting to float (in a really mild way) and she’s just trying to latch onto something that gives her comfort.

And she can’t have his thumb, so she kind of settles for a toothpick instead.

Bill just wants to pick her up, cart her to a quiet room and put her on her knees, jam his thumb in there instead for her to have. Bill watches her mouth wrap around the toothpick, toss it to the other side of her cheek, and suddenly his hands are twitching to have that warm mouth around one of his fingers, her happy sigh that she inevitably lets out, the small pleased noise and the way her whole body just relaxes.

Suddenly, Bill is the one getting real needy. His own primal need for her, to protect and provide and comfort, is blazing and the more she self-soothes with something else, the more Bill is ready to roar like a caveman and drag her out of there.

I’ll bet he eventually does.

Maybe he just walks up to her at one point, gives her a gentle smile even though he’s about ready to explode, and grabs the toothpick gently from her lips.

“This is bad for your teeth kid,” he says softly, “And it’s very, very bad for me.”

“Why?” she asks, and god she looks so sweet--her face all pinched in concern, her eyes wide. He wants to run his thumb gently across her bottom lip, but already they’re standing a little too close and looking at each other a little too intensely and Bill knows that he needs to just take a small step back if they have any hope of keeping their little secret for a bit longer.

He doesn’t step back--he just can’t bring himself too--but he does scan the area, make sure that nobody is paying attention to them, before he leans in a little closer to her ear. Tiger can't even stop herself from resting a hand on his warm chest.

“Because if you want something in your mouth,” he murmurs, “I have better options.”

“Oh,” she says softly, “I didn’t...I didn’t realize.”

He smiles gently at her, and it’s everything boyish and lopsided.

“Are you okay?” he asks genuinely, and she nods. It’s sincere.

“Yeah, I’m finally not as antsy about everything. This is a nice distraction,” she says, but then she eyes him, “Are....you okay?”

Man, she knows. She knows when her Good Dude needs something, and Jesus he’s not worked up but seeing her trying to get some comfort and self-soothe just flared up all of his protector streak that has been extra loud lately, and once that’s raring I’ll bet he needs her help to settle it. So he gives her a bit of a sheepish look, because for once he’s all needy and he most definitely needs her to help calm him down.

“Can I steal you for five minutes?” he asks lowly, and she nods. Her reaction is immediate, and Bill just melts.

“Come on,” she grabs his hand, calls out to the general crowd something about going to see something outside, and she drags him out. A little ways down the road maybe they find a secluded spot--a park bench with a nice covering of trees, and since it’s pretty late in the night, nobody is around. Tiger waits as Bill does a quick sweep of the bench for spiders since she’s terrified, and he shakes out his hands then sits, opening his arms to her. She crawls onto his lap, rests her head on his shoulder, and lifts his thumb to her lips. She gives it a small kiss before pushing it in, and Bill exhales a loud sigh.

“Thanks kid,” he murmurs into her hair as she makes that little pleased noise he needed to hear, “I owe you one.”

[writingsfromhome]

Lookalike (2/2)

Part 1/2

A/N: there were a couple requests for Part II to this one, I hope it makes up for the angst of Pt I!

———————————————————————

Jules and I pretend to look at the menu at brunch, already knowing full well we were getting a large stack of pancakes and endless iced coffee. It was our usual Sunday plans for the Saturday nights we spent together.

I had crashed at Jules after the party, too down to imagine going home to an empty flat. And Jules had been more than happy, talking my ear off about the half hour she had spent with Ed, analyzing every detail and falling more in love with him, only hitting pause when I reminded her he was married.

“The usual?” Jules looks up from her menu, her nose scruchled in humour which makes me laugh in agreement. As soon as we place the order, Jules launches into what she’d been sitting on all morning: “So what was up with Harry’s new girl being your exact lookalike?”

Even though this was the last thing I wanted to discuss, I knew it would also keep me sane. “Do they not realise how she looked just like me?”

“I know I kept asking myself that every time I saw her. He’s so not over you. Did you get that vibe?”

“I don’t know Jules! He ended it! That’s so not fair. It feels like I won but I also just feel like the biggest loser ever.”

We’re interrupted by our server and soon we’ve tucked into pancakes, discussing all the details of last night and every last word of mine and Harry’s conversation.

“It’s so weird how you two ended things. I never said anything before but that doesn’t seem like something he would say? He always seemed like one of the good ones.”

“That I’m holding him back?” The words are just as painful now as they were then.

“Yeah! He was so in love with you. I just can’t believe he thought that.”

I shrug, it was those words that made it so hard for me to move on. I felt like I couldn’t trust what anyone said to me-I thought I knew Harry and our falling out just showed I hadn’t. Who knew what would happen if I trusted anyone else.

***

A couple weeks had gone by since seeing Harry, I’d mostly been able to move it to the part of my mind that only activated when I couldn’t sleep at night. If I pretended I was okay, I would eventually be okay. Right?

I decide to walk home from an interview that day instead of taking the heated tube. This was the third interview I’d been to this week and my morale was low. Days like these, I wondered why I even went to uni when I could have stayed in my family’s food business. Who wanted to be depressed and barely making rent when I could have been well-fed and still home. I sigh.

I step into the supermarket as I near closer to home to pick up a few essentials. In line, I notice the trashy magazines with the collage of pictures. But one of them...is me. I do a double take before I snatch it up.

This was definitely me, in the club with Harry. My face is only half in the light, Harry’s profile is clear. It’s when he took me off to the side to talk. How did papparazzi get into the club?

I quickly pay for my groceries and the magazine and rush home, barely putting my bags on the countertop before I rip the glossy pages open.

Is Harry secretly dating twins or does he just have a thing for lookalikes?

A side by side of the picture on the front with me and a photo of Harry walking through a park with Katy. Katy is turned to the side, saying something to Harry. You can see plain as day the similarity. The world knew! I was in a bloody gossip magazine and the world saw what I saw! Harry was dating somebody who looked exactly like me!

I try Jules but she goes to voice mail. I didn’t even know what to do with this information. I always thought my first time in a magazine would be for something far more important.

I sit, try to take some deep breaths. I needed to talk to somebody about this. I look at the spread again and realise there was nothing there about my identity. Nobody knew who I was. At least there was that.

My spiralling is interrupted by an unknown caller. Thinking it was Jules from work, I pick up without checking.

“Y/N,” Harry’s distinct voice carries through the phone to me and it has the same effect as always. I instantly unclench my shoulders but stay on guard. Why was he calling me?

“Harry,” I clear my throat. “What...why are you calling?”

“Um, I don’t know if you’ve been on Twitter and seen the shots...my publicist asked me to reach out to you because...” I almost laugh. Of course it was just business. Why did I think Harry was calling for me. About us. “...and if you can just lay low for a bit. He was saying...”

I zone out again to Harry’s quiet tone. He was probably with his publicist now. I wondered how much heat he was in. I glance at the picture again, trying to see what the outside world saw. It was intimate, I had to admit. Harry’s hand balanced on the wall I was leaning on. His eyes are trained on me and so is what you can see of mine. You can tell we knew each other, Jules would even call that gazing. I wonder what Katy thought. Why did I even care!

“If all you’re calling is to tell me to wait for the photos to calm down, you don’t have to worry.” I cut Harry off. “I’m not famous or anything, that’s your job remember?”

There’s silence on his end, I hear a whisper somewhere-was I on speakerphone?

“Ah great. Thank you Y/N, I owe you.”

“Don’t bother,” I hang up, ignoring the sting.

***

There were some days that just felt harder than others, and I wasn’t sure where it came from, but I could barely get out of bed the next few days. My job search felt useless, I felt so lonely and used, I didn’t know why I couldn’t move on from my past. Why I was sabotaging my future like this.

It was 2pm and I had gotten up for a late breakfast before hiding under the covers again. London was rainy and I couldn’t be bothered.

Jules calls me after work, by then the sun was a lot lower in the sky and my stomach was starting to grumble in hunger. “I’m buying you a get well dinner, I’m swinging by in twenty and you better be ready.” Jules was no nonsense.

“But I really-“

“No butts except yours in a cute outfit. I’ll call you when I’m there.”

***

“Jules this is fancy,” I gasp when we pull up to a dimly lit restaurant I knew was owned by a celebrity chef.

“Don’t worry, it’s on me. I can smell the fact you didn’t take a shower recently, so I know you’ve been in bed all day. You need this.”

Tears spring to my eyes and I pull Jules into a tight hug. “I’d be in a ditch somewhere without you.”

Everything is going perfectly, I even begin to feel myself relaxing and forgetting about my worries temporarily. But it’s like the universe really couldn’t give me a break.

“Don’t look right now,” Jules says as she casts her eyes to our dessert. “But the devil himself just walked in with your doppleganger.”

“What?” I whisper. “Are you kidding? Here?”

“Shh,” Jules switches to a laugh and launches into a story as if she were midway through it. “So I’ll be doing casts of people’s heads next week and-Harry hi!”

I slowly turn, the blood rushing to my head, pounding against my ears. He’s in a stylish black button up and perfectly tailored trousers, his hand holds Katy’s who is wearing a fitted checkered dress. Her eyes meet mine and I attempt to smile but she looks away-so much for being friendly.

“Jules, Y/N, what a surprise. To bump into you two here.” Harry sounds closed off.

“We’re celebrating, so I picked the fanciest place I know. You can join in the celebration if you want?” Jules says cheerily.

I kick Jules under the table but she barely glances at me, still smiling up at Harry. I finally look at Harry and he’s watching me. Our eyes meet for one, two, three seconds, and he breaks contact.

“Best not to, what with all the stories right now...it was nice uhm seeing you ladies.” Harry looks nervous, his other hand running through his hair before he trails after the waiter who’s showing them to their table.

“What was that?” I hiss at Jules. I don’t bother even responding to Harry. He wanted to make it business so I would keep my personal feelings out.

“It’s so obvious Harry and his girl are one date away from breaking up.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Did you not see the same couple I saw?” Jules exclaims. “Mega. Tension.”

I eye them again from where I sit, no one’s smiling or talking. They stare at their menus. Then suddenly, Harry looks to the side and our eyes meet. Shit.

“Can we change the topic?” I ask, my body is breaking out in a sweat and I couldn’t piece together what I felt. Why I still felt a connection with Harry when he thought he was too good for me or why every inch of my body was aware of Harry in the room.

Jules changes the topic as requested and the rest of the evening is spent on edge. I turn down Jules’ offer to get drinks. I just wanted to be alone; today had been a roller coaster. And I was tired, I don’t even change when I get home. I simply collapse onto the couch and turn on the TV.

But at midnight on the dot, I receive a text.

I know I don’t deserve to ask, but can I see you? -H

I cross check the number to the one that called me before and it’s the same. This was Harry, wanting to see me. But after how he’d treated me-not even how he left me, but the way he played with me at the club and then left it strictly business on the phone, I didn’t want to deal with him.

You’re right, you don’t deserve to ask, I respond. I had to have some self respect if I wanted to move on from this part of my life.

I just need to explain, please? I’ll leave you alone after this if that’s what you want.

It was like holding my breath underwater knowing I’d come up for air eventually. It was just a matter of when I’d crumble. After re-reading his text, I come up for air. I let him know the door was unlocked, he knew this flat inside out. He knew where to come if he wanted to talk. And I swore I’d just let him talk and then take him up on his offer to leave me alone.

It was as if he were in the lobby because I hear the door open a few minutes later.

“Were you downstairs the whole time?” I ask as he walks in, his magnetism undeniable.

“Uh,” he pauses by the doorway. “I guess I should have given it a few before I charged up?”

I shake my head, fighting back a smile. Harry was never a good liar, but a very good charmer.

“Do you want a drink?” I ask out of habit.

“Ah no...no. Y/N...I just want to explain some things.”

I sit back down and Harry walks over tentatively, perching on the sofa himself, his long legs stretching out. It was weird seeing him back here.

“What did you want to say?” I ask.

“Firstly, that I’m an idiot and I’m sorry.” He looks down at his hands, barely making eye contact. “I regret so many things but the way I treated you is number one. Everything’s just a bloody mess and I keep getting deeper into this pile of shite I created.”

I raise my eyebrow, where was he going with this.

“Right so I...I had to call you that day, about those photos. I really didn’t care if people saw you with me or not but I realised if they found out who you were, you may not get any peace so that’s the only reason I agreed to call you when my manager said I should-“

“Yeah since I’m not cut out for fame, right?”

“No, no tha...” Harry sighs, I was being petty and I knew it. I ease up and let him continue. “That’s not it. I didn’t want you to be harassed every time you stepped out. But what I was trying to say is...Y/N I’m sorry for the way I ended things. It was a shitshow-“

“That’s right,” I interrupt, I couldn’t help it. “It cheapened the whole relationship. Harry I don’t even know who you are or what you want with me anymore. You claimed you were too good for me, I was holding you back-“

“I didn’t mean any of it! I heard you that day.” Harry stops my rambling. “I heard you on the phone with your mum, saying you were thinking of deferring your last semester to join me on tour. It killed me! I knew you were going to do it. But I would hear you talking about your studies and...you love what you do-but you were willing to put it aside to be with me? I couldn’t let you do that. I’m not worth that Y/N. And I tried to word it but you know how shite I am at words. It was a slippery slope and before I knew it you were angry at me at something I didn’t even mean. But it was better that, than you going on tour and realising you didn’t want to be with me and realising you’d wasted your year for nothing.”

The silence that follows his confession is loaded. I can barely swallow. But I can see his relief at unloading, the burden lifts from his shoulders, he finally looks at me with hesitance. But the burden settles on my own shoulders. All this time, all the weeks turned to months I had felt my lowest and this breakup had just added to it...it was all just a misunderstanding, a way for Harry to push me away because he thought he was protecting me. Where did that leave me? Leave us?

“Why are you telling me this now?” I choke out, tears threatening to fall.

“Because I realised...I realised I still love you. I bloody love you and I don’t think I’ll ever stop. Katy is a wonderful woman but she was a stand-in...I was only looking for you. I...” Harry gets up and walks over to the window to catch his breath. “I’m ashamed it took me this long to realise I was dating your lookalike. She looked just like you Y/N, how did I not see that? I was just trying to hold onto you.”

He turns to me and his eyes have a wild look, I can’t imagine all the trouble he’d gotten in since those photos. With his team and his girlfriend. And here he didn’t even know his girlfriend was just a lookalike. He literally went out and dated my lookalike and he hadn’t even realised! The thought bursts my tension like a bubble, a giggle escapes me and Harry furrows his brows.

“Are you laughing?” He asks. Which sends me into a full blown laugh. The reality of what happened between us settles over me, I feel a sense of clarity. All this anger and hurt I’d held onto for so long was just Harry’s fucked up insecurity pushing me away. He never meant a thing. And I feel lighter than I had in forever: He didn’t hate me, I was enough for him.

“I-you didn’t even...” my words trail off as I’m overtaken by more laughter. “When did you realise she looked-“ I manage to get out.

Harry begins chuckling at this point as he sits back down, closer to me than before.

“Well as soon as I saw the two of you side by side that night. I knew I fucked up.”

I fall back and laugh harder, but as I catch my breath again, a sob bubbles up in it’s place and pretty soon my laughing fit has turned into crying.

Harry looks on, confused by my manic descension. “Y/N...” he sounds unsure.

“Jesus, Styles, You put me through hell.” I say as I gain control of myself again, taking a few breaths to calm down. “I was at my lowest because of you. I was barely living here.”

Harry moves back, “I’m sorry Y/N. You don’t know how sorry I am. I hated myself for doing that to you. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to.”

“How?” I demand. “We’re on two different paths remember? And you’re dating Katy.”

“We broke up after those pictures,” Harry moves closer to me again. “We just had to keep up pretense for the paps. And who bloody cares if we’re on two different paths. We’ll build a bridge or something. We’ll make it work.”

Harry’s voices grows deeper as he moves in closer, lowered so I couldn’t hear it if I were across the room. I don’t stop the smile overtaking my face, I’d felt ungrounded for so long. Harry being here, promising me a future where we can make it work, it felt like my old roots were finding me again. I feel myself shedding the darkness I’d been clouded under for so long.

“You’re radiant,” Harry gazes at me, his hand coming up to the side of my face and I feel the heat rush to my face.

“You’re charming,” I try not to give in too easily but he made it difficult with the way he grins, his eyes drifting to my lips.

“As for how I can make it up to you,” Harry whispers to them before he looks back up at me. “I can think of a few ways.”

He slowly leans the rest of the way in and every one of my senses are overwhelmed as he kisses me the way he always did. The way he was always meant to. The way we always would.

I wasn’t too fussy. With each kiss Harry leaves across my face, my neck, my body, I forgive him a little more until there’s just me and him and nothing else between us.