#her voice actress saw this on twitter and called it amazing i can die happy

[psiirockin]

COME & BURN WITH ME! 🎃🐈‍⬛

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 19 of don’t read the last page is here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

“I, uh, am I supposed to be scared?”

“Are you?”

“...only if I’m supposed to be.”

She laughed and held out her hand palm-up. “Hold on to me. Trust me, it helps.”

chapter 19: six weeks or so

When she saw Kristoff waiting for her by the car, she didn't so much embrace him as crash into him, flinging her suitcases aside to throw her arms around his waist and hold on tight.

He caught her with equal enthusiasm, pressing her so close to his chest she could feel his heartbeat thudding against her cheek.

"I missed you," she choked out, tears already welling over. 

"It's okay," he murmured, running a hand over her hair. "You're back now. I've got you."

"Russia is cold as fuck."

"Were you surprised?"

"No, I just-- fuck, it's good to be back in LA."

He chuckled and pulled back enough to get a glimpse at her face. "I take it you didn't sleep on the plane."

"Not even for a minute. I don't even remember what day it's supposed to be."

"February eighteenth. And it's Saturday, so you're stuck with me all day."

"Oh, thank god, I-- wait, you got up this early on a weekend to get me?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't want to wait any longer than I had to to see you."

"Jesus. Are you like, real? Am I actually asleep now and dreaming this?"

He kissed her forehead and pulled back to open the trunk of his car. "No, this is real."

"God, I'm lucky," she said with a happy sigh, admiring the way his arms flexed as he heaved her suitcases into the trunk. "You're hot and you love me. And smart!"

"Did you sleep at all the last day or so?"

"Nope," she said cheerfully. "So the reunion sex has to wait til after I nap this time."

---

“Was it all bad?”

“No, there were some good moments. Like I did have one afternoon to go sightseeing with Honey. I tweeted those pictures, did you see?”

“Mhmm. You looked adorable in that big fur hat,” Kristoff said, leaning over to where she was perched on the edge of the counter to kiss her on the cheek.

“And Honey made it bearable, and the not-Hans people are mostly okay. Oh! And Katerina was lovely, that’s the little girl who plays Anastasia when she’s younger. They’re doing that whole first bit in Russian, and she didn’t really know much English, but she was so cute, look!”

She held up her phone to show him a picture of her grinning ear to ear as she knelt beside a little girl with bright blue eyes, waist-length red hair, and a missing front tooth; they looked so similar that for a moment he had an uncanny feeling that he was looking at a picture of a mother and daughter.

“Yeah, she’s adorable,” he said, unsure why there was suddenly a lump in his throat.

“And she was so sweet with the dog-- I told you they’re keeping that in, right, from the original one? Anyway, by the end they were inseparable. I could tell you would get along with her, too.”

He set down the spatula then and went over to kiss her properly, setting his hands on her waist and tugging her as close as he could without pulling her completely off the counter. She let out a little surprised laugh, though she met him with enthusiasm, and when he pulled away she asked breathlessly, “What was that for?”

“Just because.”

---

There was a loud thump, followed by a hissed, “Fuck, shit that hurt!”, and then another much louder thump followed by something so vulgar he felt himself blush just listening to it.

He sat up, fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand. “Anna? What are you doing up? I thought you said you don’t have to film anything else.”

“I don’t. But I set up a meeting with Lena this morning to talk about options.”

“Oh.”

He wasn’t awake enough to deal with that kind of problem just yet, and so instead he switched the lamp on. “What did you drop?”

“I set my heels on top of the drawers so I would see them and remember to wear them. The tall ones that make me feel like a badass? And then, uh, I tried to get dressed in the dark and knocked one of them onto my foot, and it turns out those heels hurt when they land on you, and then I, uh, I tripped and ran into the dresser.”

“Sounds like you’re going to have a bruise.”

“A massive one that Honey will get annoyed at me for. You wouldn’t believe how much concealer she’s wasted on me doing stupid shit.”

She finished putting her earrings in and clacked over to him, still in the heels. “Have fun at work today, baby, okay?”

“I’ll try. Depends on what shit Ryder pulls.”

She laughed at that and leaned down to kiss him. “Love you.”

“Love you back.”

And he was having fun at work, really, especially when he spent his lunch break playing fetch with the dogs who were staying in the kennels, but then his phone buzzed with a call from Anna.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?” he asked, hoping she couldn’t tell he was already worrying; she never called at work.

“Fuck! I’m so fucking pissed, I-- oh, hello, sorry, I skipped that part. Love you. Anyway, fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

“So I like, told Lena how shitty Hans was, and that you and I had been talking about eventually going public, and she was all ‘well it’s really good for your reputation to be in the news this much’ and I was like ‘um but I don’t like being in the tabloids’ and she was like ‘but it’s good for your career so really I was thinking we could play this up’ even though I told her at the beginning I don’t want to encourage it, you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And then she was annoyed at me, like ‘look at all your Twitter followers now’ and stuff and just like...fuck. Like I know she knows how to do this shit way better than me, but still. I told her no, by the way, still no playing into it. Which I would have done even if I didn’t know it bothers you because it bothers me, so don’t start feeling guilty.”

She knew him too well; he’d been getting ready to apologize already. “I won’t.”

“Well, then, she was like ‘the hype is going to die down til the trailer drops this summer if we don’t do something so next weekend I got you lined up for some talk show stuff, and Hans is doing SNL and surprise, you’ve got a cameo with him on that and also he’ll be on the talk shows too’ and just. I told her how much he sucks, you know? And that I really needed a break from traveling.”

“But this’ll be really good, Anna,” he said, making sure he was out of earshot of anyone who might overhear and put two and two together. “For your career and the movie. You gotta go.”

She sighed heavily. “I know. But like, I haven’t even gotten to see my sister in a month. And they’re probably gonna put me in a hotel with Hans, and he’ll try to come up with some excuse to come talk to me in my room--”

“Can I come with you?” Kristoff asked, surprising even himself. “I mean, if it’s for SNL, it’s on the weekend, right?”

There was a beat of silence, and then she replied, “Oh my god. Oh my god, would you really do that?”

“Um...go on a weekend trip with my girlfriend to a city I’ve never seen? Is that a question?”

“We’d have to leave Friday, though.”

“That’s fine. I get a day off each month, and I haven’t used any yet.”

“You’re telling me it’s March, and you’ve been stressed as fuck, and you still haven’t missed a day?”

“Um…”

“Okay, you’re definitely coming with me. And we’re doing touristy shit the whole time. Well, the whole time I’m not doing dumb interviews or whatever. Anyway, I just got to set. See you tonight?”

“Why did you say that like it’s a question? We live together.”

“I don’t know. Makes it feel more exciting that way, like we’re still in the exciting dating part and not basically already an old married couple.”

“It’s still exciting to me.”

“Aww, Kris,” she said, her voice softening. “You’re too cute. I can’t wait to actually be half of an old married couple with you.”

Unconsciously, his hand went to his pocket, where he was keeping the receipt from the jewelry store. He was picking it up after work today. “Me, either.”

---

“Do you think people can tell this is a wig?”

“No. I barely recognized you when you came out of the bathroom this morning.”

“Liar. But you’re sweet for saying so.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. She was in the window seat, wearing a brunette wig cut into a bob, a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over it, and a pair of sunglasses for good measure, and still to be certain she went unrecognized, they had gone through security and boarding separately. Now they were seated in first class, and, mercifully Hans had beaten them there and already attracted all the attention to himself. Except for his own, of course; he had already made excuses to walk past their row twice before the plane had even taken off.

Kristoff heard the engines start up and cleared his throat. “Um. Is it too late to tell you I’ve never flown before?”

“Never? I knew that in high school, but I thought surely…”

“Nope. I, uh, am I supposed to be scared?”

“Are you?”

“...only if I’m supposed to be.”

She laughed and held out her hand palm-up. “Hold on to me. Trust me, it helps.”

He squeezed her hand and felt a prickling at the back of his neck. He turned and met Hans’s glittering green eyes across the aisle. For a moment they just stared at each other; then Hans smirked and returned his attention to his phone.

Kristoff turned to face the front again, grateful Anna’s attention was on the menu and thus that she’d missed the moment of tension. He had a funny feeling that wouldn’t be the only such moment this weekend.

---

“Yes, it’s been a dream come true,” she said with a grin. “I mean, getting to be a literal princess? What girl doesn’t want that?”

“It’s your second time wearing a crown. Do you think this movie will be as successful as Crowned on Christmas?”

“Oh, definitely. I mean, the number of amazing, talented people on set--”

And there was Hans’s goddamn hand on her knee again. “I agree,” he said, smoothly interrupting her. “It’s been such an amazing experience working with Anna.”

She crossed her legs, forcing his hand to fall away. At least it wasn’t on her shoulder again this time; that had taken her a whole minute and a half to shuffle out of. She caught the host’s eye in a silent plea for help, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“And the rumors about the two of you?”

Hans laughed. “It’s flattering, to be sure, to have my name linked with someone like our Anna here. But I like to keep some parts of my life private.”

“Me, too,” Anna said quickly, but Hans’s hand settled over her shoulders again all the same.

When she was finally, mercifully off the set and backstage again, she didn’t even bother with a makeup wipe before grabbing Kristoff’s hand and pulling him out the stage door, heading straight for the car that was waiting for them. Mercifully, no fans had come around back yet, and so she dropped his hand only long enough to get in the backseat.

Neither of them spoke until they were nearly to the hotel, and then she turned to him suddenly, her eyes fierce. “I fucking hate that guy.”

Kristoff only nodded, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

“And I’m gonna take an insanely hot shower until I like, burn away all of him from my skin.”

He nodded again and set his hand over hers, squeezing hard.

The silence resumed as they made their way upstairs, timing it so they wouldn’t be seen in the lobby together. She went first and was already stripped down, the shower heating up, when she heard the door click open. She stepped back out to greet Kristoff, but before she could even get out a hello he was there, his hands tangling in her hair as he kissed her, hard.

“Fuck,” she managed to gasp out, hands already scrabbling at his waistband as he nipped at her lower lip. “Kris, I--”

She trailed off into a gasp. He had already moved down to her neck, pressing kisses hard enough she wondered if he was trying to leave a mark. “I love you, Anna,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. 

“I love you, too. Only you,” she emphasized, and she felt him groan against her collarbone. “And I only want you to touch me.”

“Good. Because that’s how I’m planning on spending the rest of the night.”

---

It was too damn hot in the rehearsal room. She had to step out for a moment or she was going to puke up every bite of the room service they had ordered that morning, too lazy and exhausted after spending most of the night tangled in each other to bother even going two feet down the sidewalk for a bagel.

Hans raised an eyebrow as she stood. “You alright, Anna? We’re just about to be to the skit you’re in if you don’t mind waiting another minute for a break.”

She simpered at him, wishing she had the guts to tell him off then and there. “Be right back. Just need a piss.”

He blinked, affronted, but one of the women beside him snickered, which was enough to embolden her. She grabbed her purse from the back of her chair and marched off to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She really did need to pee, but after that she dug through the bag in search of a Tums. “Come on, you’re in here somewhere-- aha!” she exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out a foiled packet.

Her smile dropped immediately; it was just her birth control, but as she went to drop it back in something caught her eye. She did some mental math, and then did it again, and then pulled out her phone and looked at a calendar of the last month. No, she thought, panic already rising in her chest, there should only be five. Not six.

She flicked to another app on her phone, the little one with the stupid flower icon. Surely she had just misremembered, it had been the first week in Russia and it’d only been, what, five or six weeks--

Twelve days late.

---

By the fountain. The big one. The one she had sent him a Google Maps pin for. He had checked three times; this was the right place. And it was the right place, too, with the first of the season’s flowers blooming around it, and surprisingly few people, and the sun was gorgeous and warm and sparkling on the water, and seriously, there was so much green. When would he have a chance like this in California?

He kept taking the box out of his pocket and opening to double check it, just to make sure it was still there. It felt unreal somehow, even though he’d had it for the last two weeks, just waiting at the back of the sock drawer. 

He still couldn’t help but worry she wouldn’t like it, that it wouldn’t be enough for her. It was kind of small, really, not at all what you’d expect a rising starlet to wear. But he’d picked it out himself because he thought it was her style, and he’d paid for it all up front out of his savings, and he hoped that was enough to make up for its size. 

Which was ridiculous to even worry about, because this was Anna, and all she had ever wanted from him was himself, which was maybe even more ridiculous than that. 

He heard footsteps and quickly shoved the box back in his pocket, worried she might have caught a glimpse, but it was only an old man passing by and leaning on his cane who gave him a wink. “Good luck with that, kid,” the man said, and Kristoff offered him a weak smile and a nod.

And then there she was, radiant in the midafternoon light in a white sundress. He was struck suddenly by the thought of how she’d look coming down the aisle to him in something similar, and a smile broke out across his face, one that she didn’t return. In fact, as she drew closer, he realized that she looked exactly like she had on their trip to Disneyland after their third time in a row on Space Mountain.

“Kris,” she said the moment she came up to him, not even taking a moment to hug him, “I gotta tell you something.”

“Oh, uh--” He gulped. “I, uh, I kinda wanted to tell you something too. Or, er, ask you.”

“Oh-- oh! Oh, fuck! You go first, then.”

“Well-- I don’t know, it was supposed to be a surprise--”

“Do you want me to walk away and come back?”

“I...yeah, that, uh, that would be good.”

She did, and this time when she came over she was giving him a bright smile, her eyes already shining with emotion even before he got down on one knee. 

“Anna,” he said as she drew closer to him, “you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. You’re the love of my life, and I know I kind of asked this before, but I want to ask it officially. Will you-- oh, fuck, baby, why are you crying so hard? Did I fuck it up?”

She let out a sob. “I think I’m pregnant.”

[letmewritefanfiction]

The Oscar for prettiest girlfriend goes to…

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word count: 1891

Summary: You and Ben have been dating in secret for months. But now you’re up for an Oscar, and maybe it’s time to tell the world?

Warnings: none really? Ben Hardy being a cutie maybe. And this is not beta’d.

You took one last look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your hotel room. You tried your best to smile at your reflection, but your stomach was to full of nerves. This was your first time at the Oscars, and you were actually nominated for best actress in a supporting role! It was a huge deal, and you had to look your best. The dress you were wearing was both bigger and heavier than you were. It was deep red, a colour you had never thought you suited until your stylist had forced you to try the dress on. Now, you kind of never wanted to take it off. You felt like a princess.

“Y/N? We have to go!” the voice of your manager, Charlotte, called through the door.

“Coming!” you called back, and walked to the door as quickly as you could in you sky high heels and gigantic skirt. The dress was floor length, even in your heels, with red lace covering the whole thing. The bodice was tight fit, off the shoulders, and the skirts busted out from a little above your hips. It was so stunning you didn’t want to sit down or do anything in fear of ruining it. A long with your manager and your body guard, Simon, you made your way out of the hotel, towards the limo.

“Y/N L/N! I thought that was you!” you looked to you left, and saw Olivia Coleman walking towards another car.

“Olivia!” You smiled, and embraced your fellow actress.

“You look, wow! I love what you have done with your hair!” Olivia said. You blushed and thanked her. You were eternally grateful for your make-up artist, Sam. The two of you had been friends since 2011, when Sam first did your make-up in your first movie. Now, Sam had styled your Y/H/C hair in the perfect style that matched your dress perfectly. Sam was truly a gem.

“Good luck tonight!” You said to Olivia, as the two of you were ushered into different limos. You enjoyed the drive to the award show. You had a class of champagne with your staff, and went over what you would say in your acceptance speech, if you won. You pulled up to the red carpet, and gratefully accepted the hand of your bodyguard to get out of the car. Charlotte quickly made sure your dress was trailing out behind you in the right way, before nodding to you.

“Remember, talk to as many people as possible. And smile, smile, smile, dear. I’ll be there to move you forward. Always smile. Cameras everywhere. And just remember to keep a good posture, so your dress looks it’s best. You look stunning. Now, walk,” Charlotte instructed, before gently pushing you towards the beginning of the carpet.

There were flashing lights and cameras everywhere. People were shouting to you from all over. For every few steps, a few more before you posed, and smiled, and smiled, and smiled. Your cheeks were hurting, but you felt gorgeous anyway. As you walked, you greeted a few fellow actors and actresses on the way. You even got a hug from Chris Evans.

 “I can die happy now,” you whispered to Charlotte, who rolled her eyes, but still smiled at you.

“Y/N!” an interviewer called out, waving you over. It felt like interview number one million, though it was probably only number seven.

“Hello,” you said with a huge smile to interviewer. The man grinned back. 

“Hi, yourself. First of all, you look stunning!” he began.

“Oh, thank you! I love your suit as well,” you said back, and it wasn’t really a lie. It was a nice, black velvet suit. A little excessive for a interviewer, but you do you.

“So, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. Hollywood’s new favourite girl. I must ask, how does it feel to go from (Hometown) in (home country), to the biggest award show in the world?”

“I-I’m not sure,” you laughed. The interviewer joined. “I suppose it is this constant feeling of this all being a dream, and that I’ll just wake up one day, and be back in my bed at home. It’s-it’s a very surreal feeling to be here, for sure,”

“Yes, I can see that. Now, I must ask you, though I’m sure you’ve been asked this many times before. But how was it for you, to play a lesbian, and to also play the daughter of such an amazing actor as-“ suddenly something caught your eye, and your attention was quickly diverted away from the interviewer, who kept talking about your on-screen father. Walking down the carpet, being taken photos of, were the stars of Bohemian Rhapsody. Joe Mazzello, Gwilym Lee, Allen Leech, and last but not least, Ben Hardy. Aka, your boyfriend of four months. Not that anyone knew that, except for a few of your closest friends and family.

“Sorry, I just have to go really quick. I’ll be right back,” you said, cutting of the interviewer mid-sentence. Before Charlotte could ask what you were doing, you had set of power-walking down the carpet as quickly as possible. You moved around another actress you vaguely recognized, before coming face to face with Ben. At first it didn’t seem like he realized it was you. Then, his face brightened up in a massive grin.

“Y/N!” Ben said, before putting his arms around your waist, and picking you up. You laughed as you hugged him, and spun half a circle around. Ben put you down again, and you couldn’t help but beam at him.

“You look stunning,” he said with a smile, not loud enough to be heard by any of the interviewer now shouting questions as you. Suddenly remembering that you weren’t alone, you let go of Ben, and took a few steps back.

“Not so bad yourself,” you said with a kind smile, though you could see the slight hurt from when you pulled away. You mouthed sorry to him, just as Joe, Allen and Gwilym caught up with you.

“Y/N! Hi, wow!” Joe said, smiling at you, before giving you a hug.

“Joe, hi!” you answered, before moving on to hug the others to. You had met the boys some six months ago, when their press tour for Bohemian Rhapsody, and the press tour for your movie, had been in the same place at the same time. You and Ben had hit it of immediately, but that didn’t mean you weren’t friends with the other to.

“Y/N,” you looked over at Charlotte, you gently tapped the watch on her wrist. You nodded.

“I need to go. See you in there! Good luck!” You said, smiling at them. Ben caught your eyes, and smiled sadly, before you turned and walked away. Not exactly the time for feelings.

You were sat with your co-stars, your director and a few others who were related to your movie. They had just finished calling out the names of all the nominees for your category, best actress in a supporting role.

“And the winner is…” You held your breath. This was it. You looked up at the host. He opened his mouth, “Y/N L/N, for We will meet again!”

You froze for a second. Then your co-star, Aiden Turner pulled you out of you chair, and hugged you.

“Amazing!” the Irish man said with a grin, as you let go to hug others. Your brain was trying to process it all. You had won! Once the hugs were done, you were lead onto the stage. On the way, you passed Ben, who sent you the biggest smile, and applauded along with everyone else. You accepted the little statue, and turned to the mic.

“Wow, I cannot believe this is real,” you began, before pouring your heart into your well-practiced speech. Afterwards, you were lead into a room to take pictures and answer questions. It was all quite surreal. But here you were. It had happened, this was real.

Everything after that passed super quickly. You were thrilled when Rami won best actor, and when Olivia won best actress. After the show, you left, taking the limo back to the hotel. As soon as you unlocked your door, a pair of hands grabbed yours, and pulled you inside. Before you could say anything, a pair of lips met your own.

“Hey, you,” you said with a smile as you pulled away from Ben.

“Hey, princess,” he grinned before kissing you again. You laughed against his lips. God, you had missed him by your side tonight. And you told him that.

“We could just go public, you know,” he said, looking at you. But you shook your head.

“You know how I feel about having everyone all up in our business,” you said, and he nodded.

“I know, babe. But, I think it’s my business to get you out of this dress. It’s far too much fabric,” he told you with a large grin. You shook your head and laughed, but there were no protests when he began pulling at the zipper on the back. Instead you began unbuttoning his shirt, not really caring that you should be changing for the after party.

The next day the two of you spent in bed. There was no need to get up, so why bother? Ben was tracing figures into the back of your thigh, as you were scrolling through twitter.

“People won’t shut up about Lady Gaga and Bradley Coopers performance last night,” you said to Ben, who nuzzled your cheek.

“There was a lot of chemistry there though,” he said, and you nodded.

“Yeah, poor Irina,” you said and he laughed. You read on, “Oh! Listen here. Y’all keep talking about Lady Gaga an B Cooper, but did anyone see Ben Hardy and Y/N L/N? And another, Ben Hardy lifting up Y/N L/N and spinning her vs Lady Gaga staring into B Coopers eyes. We really supposed to think none of them are dating, yeah right.”

“What about us?” Ben asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. You clicked on the hashtag for your own name. There were a lot of people congratulating you on your victory, but also some saying you had robbed others.

“This one, hear. Y/N L/N really out here living everyone’s dream, hugging Ben Hardy. Oh, and more. Y/N L/N is the most relatable celebrity, because I to would run up and hug Ben Hardy if I ever saw him,” you loved reading these things out loud. It made you feel good to know that people thought this about you and your boyfriend.

“Haha, listen to this one.” You continued. “Y/N L/N just up and left her interview to hug Ben Hardy and that is such a mood, you have no idea. And, this is my favourite. Everyone saying Y/N L/N is so luck for hugging Ben Hardy? Bitch, please, Ben is lucky to even touch our queen Y/N!” You laughed, and Ben joined you.

“I am luck, aren’t I? Also, people are so weird,” he whispered, and you turned your head to look at him.

 “Yeah, they are. But you’re not,” you said, and smiled as he kissed your lips softly.

 “I love you,” he whispered against your lips. “I’m dating an Oscar winner, amazing!”

 You laughed sarcastically. 

 “I love you to, dork.”

[chasholidays]

prompt (tell me if this is too vague?) - bellarke. alternate universe actors/celebs/famous whatever. past relationship (exes), but now they are in a secret relationship. do with that what you will...

The thing is, Clarke remembers how her and Bellamy’s breakup went. It was a fucking nightmare, the regular stress and awfulness of a relationship ending compounded by the very public nature of their courtship, the whole world being invested in every tiny thing they did. Clarke never minded being a celebrity back then, never minding going on TV to talk about her boyfriend, but they were kids. She didn’t know any better.

Breaking up with Bellamy Blake and watching the world care, seeing reactions and think pieces and people she’d never met on twitter saying they’d always seen it coming, that she was never good enough for him, that she probably cheated, a thousand other things–that was the first time she really felt grown up. She grew armor. When people asked about her personal life, she smiled, laughed, said she wasn’t seeing anyone right now, and moved on. She didn’t talk about the relationships she had; she kept quiet, so her joy and pain were her own.

If she ever got serious enough with someone, she told herself, then she’d talk about it. When she was really invested, ready to get married, perhaps. When it was unavoidable. And the fact that they never felt felt that important might have been part of why some of her relationships ended.

But at least they ended quietly, and no one went to the press, and that’s what she counts as a successful relationship, these days. As long as it’s less of a trainwreck than Bellamy was, she’s happy.

And then she gets the call to do Lirael, and there’s Bellamy again, and old habits apparently die hard. Because all she has to do is look at him, and it’s over.

She didn’t learn a thing.

*

The first time they see each other, Clarke can’t help feeling awkward. It’s been ten years since the first movie, longer than most studios like to wait for sequels, but not as long as the time gap in the real books. Clarke is a little young to pass as the mother of a teenager, but Sabriel was supposed to be young when the children were born, and she’s not in the movie that much anyway, not quite a cameo, but not really a leading role either. Any time they want her back, she’ll come, and be happy. She loved the role.

But it’s been almost that long since she saw Bellamy, and part of her doesn’t know what to do with him in her life again. She’s kept up with him as best she can, knew he was doing well and seemed happy, but she’s still not ready to be with him. The first sight of him still stops her short.

His hair is longer, and he’s got a patchy beard going that might be for the role and might not. It does make him look older, and maybe that’s what they were looking for, but it also makes him look different, a physical reminder of all the years they’ve been apart.

For a second, she thinks about ducking out of sight before he turns all the way, but it’s only for a second. They’re working on a movie together, playing a married couple. She’s not going to be able to avoid him, and putting off talking to him won’t help.

Besides, she did like him. Loved him, even. And they crashed and burned pretty spectacularly, but a lot of that was a function of being kids in the public sphere. She was nineteen when they broke up; she’s more mature now. Smarter. She can deal with this.

So when he sees her, she raises her hand, smiles. “Hey.”

He blinks at her, surprised; he’s wearing his glasses, which he never used to do in public, and his eyes soften as he takes her in. “Hey. Long time no see.”

“I was avoiding you for like five years,” she says, and he takes it for the joke it is, ducks his head on a laugh.

“Yeah? What about the other four and a half years?”

“You never come to awards shows, when was I going to see you?”

“Yeah, that’s on me.” He wets his lips. “I feel like I apologized at least once, but–”

“Stop,” she says, holding up her hand. “We were both stupid kids. You broke my heart, I broke yours, neither of us dealt with it well. So we’re even, right? No hard feelings? We can still work together.”

“Definitely,” he says. But when he smiles again, her heard flips over, and when he says, “It’s good to see you again, Clarke,” some part of her melts.

She didn’t want to break up with Bellamy before. It just happened anyway.

“Yeah,” she says. “You too.”

*

It’s about a week before they’re making out in her trailer. Clarke’s not quite sure how it happens, except that they’re hanging out together most of the time, and, again, she never stopped liking the things she liked about him before. He’s just as attractive and intelligent and easy to talk to as he always has been, and when he looks at her, she still feels like the only person in the world.

When she asks him if he wants to get a drink in her trailer, she knows what she’s really asking, and when he says yes, she thinks he knows what he’s agreeing to. She’s the one to move in closer, he’s the one to cup her jaw in his hand, and the kiss is mutual, familiar and new all at once, the scrape of his beard enough to remind her that he’s not the same boy she used to love.

“Clarke,” he says, soft, between kisses, and it doesn’t feel like a question, but she wants to give an explanation anyway. She feels like she has to say something.

“Just–” she starts, but just this once feels like a waste. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” she says instead, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

“Yeah,” he says, and kisses her again.

*

They’re only filming for three weeks, which means they don’t have that long together, and within a few days, Clarke’s making sure to see him every day, trying to get as much time with him as possible, and she’s already dreading when she stops seeing him again.

It’s not just that the sex is amazing, although it is. Spending time with him is just as good as it used to be, and she think they’ve grown up to have even more in common. Bellamy will make a dry comment, and she’ll be the only one who acknowledges it, the two of them catching each others’ eyes and grinning. They have a lot in common, and if not for what happened before, she’d ask hi if he wanted something more serious.

But she can’t quite get over that, so he’s the one to say, two days before their filming wraps, “It could be a big deal.”

The statement doesn’t really follow from anything; they’re in bed at his hotel room, naked and sated, Clarke curled against his bare chest with one of his arms wrapped around her, his thumb absently stroking her shoulder. She’d been thinking about falling asleep, but the rumble of his voice is more interesting.

“What?” she asks.

He clears his throat. “This. Us. I know last time was–I was way too young to like you as much as I did. I didn’t know what the fuck to do with myself.”

She smiles, presses a kiss against the smooth skin above his heart. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“So–we could try again, right? Not picking up where we left off, but–”

This time, she props herself up so she can kiss his lips. “Something new,” she says, and he smiles.

“Something new.”

*

It doesn’t feel like it should be hard to not talk about dating Bellamy again. After all, every instinct she has is telling her to be careful, to be cautious. This nearly broke her, the last time it went wrong, and just because it hasn’t gone wrong yet, it doesn’t mean it won’t. There’s no reason to think he’ll last longer than anyone else she’s dated.

But she’s happy. It’s been a long time, since she’s been this happy, and she doesn’t want to tell the world, but she wants to tell people, and that’s dangerous, because the more people who know, the better chance there is that it will get out. Her people would want to leak it, probably; getting back together with Bellamy would be great PR.

It doesn’t help that he agreed to keep it quiet, when she mentioned it. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, she doesn’t think he’s embarrassed, but it feels as if they’re both admitting they don’t expect it to last.

And she doesn’t expect that. But she wants it to.

“You never talk about who you’re dating,” she observes. They’re on his couch, him playing video games and her reading scripts, and it feels comfortable and lived in in a way it never did the last time. They don’t go to events or parties together, but they spend their weekends in one apartment or the other, the kind of casual, lowkey relationship they never had before. It was easy to always be on when they dated the first time, going to every party together, always in the spotlight, and she thought he wanted that. Thought they both did.

Now, she’s not so sure.

“Right now I’m dating this actress,” he says, absent. “Cute, kind of bossy, but–”

She swats his shoulder. “I meant before. When we were dating, we were out every night, and then you just–stopped.”

“So did you.”

“Yeah, but I know why I stopped.”

“Why?”

“Because our very public breakup sucked and I never wanted to do that again?”

“I never liked it that much to begin with,” he admits. “If that was what I had to do to date you, I’d do it, but–sometimes it felt like you just liked the attention.”

The sting is old and easy to ignore. “Sometimes it felt like you just liked parties.”

He actually laughs. “So, a couple teenagers sucked at communicating. That’s news.”

“You were twenty.”

“Yeah, so old and wise.” He kisses her hair. “I just liked you, Clarke. I wanted to do what would make you happy, which was stupid, because if I wasn’t happy too, it wouldn’t last.”

“I grew up in Hollywood. My understanding of relationships involves them being very public.”

“But you learned your lesson with me?”

“I thought I did. It’s possible there’s something about dating you that makes me want to tell everyone.”

He laughs, leans down to kiss her hair. “So, you want to brag about me?”

“What’s not to brag about?”

“We can go to more parties if you want,” he offers, but his voice is slightly off.

“That’s not what I mean. Just–it’s weird for me. I’ve been keeping relationships quiet for ten years because of you, and now I’m back with you and all I want to do is call all my friends and gossip.”

He laughs, and the tension leaves his body all at once. “You can do that.”

“I don’t trust all my friends.”

“That sounds like an issue with your friends.”

“Do yours know?”

“Just the ones I trust,” he teases, and she elbows him. “Really, though. I don’t have a ton of close friends. I told Miller we got back together, he was–worried.”

“Yeah?”

“You broke my heart last time.”

“You broke mine too.”

He smiles, tugs her close. “So we’re even. I don’t mind if you want to tell people, Clarke. Just–I’m not interested in being part of Hollywood’s next it couple.”

“I’m not either. But–I really like you,” she admits. It feels like failure, somehow. Ten years spent trying to get over the heartbreak Bellamy Blake, and in two months, she’s right back where she started.

“I really like you too,” he says. “I think we can do better this time.”

She cuddles closer. “Yeah. So far, so good.”

*

She starts wearing her engagement ring on the press tour for Abhorsen. It wasn’t particularly hard to wait that long; Bellamy proposed in a fairly casual way after the movie wrapped, and she wore the ring at home and among friends, not terribly concerned if word got out. But when the press tour rolls around, it feels like time to announce it. They’re not planning to hide the wedding or anything, so it’s bound to come up.

It’s the third reporter who says, “I can’t help noticing the ring.”

“Amazingly, you’re the first one to say that,” says Bellamy.

She smiles. “You’ve been waiting too?”

“We had a bet,” Clarke says.

“So your co-stars knew?”

“Not all of them.” She wets her lips, takes Bellamy’s hand. It’s going to be catastrophic if they break up, but it’s not public scrutiny that makes breaking up with Bellamy bad. It’s being in love with him. “It’s his ring,” she tells the reporter, “so he knew. Everyone else?” She shrugs, smiles. “It’s none of their business.”