#i was supposed to meet a friend tomorrow but she just cancelled and now i'm glad

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

finally got dates for two of my interview requests for my dissertation and um. one of them wants to meet three days before my dissertation is due and the other wants to meet TOMORROW 😭

[moonstruckme]

Okay hey me again 😞 was hoping to send a request for more TASM!Peter x reader but one where he is comforting the reader bc they were stood up by their friends(cough cough me😬) like they were supposed to go out and she got all dolled up but they ditched her

This might be an oddly specific ask but I thought. Why not 😝 feel free to take the concept and RUN! I am all for writers doing whatever the hell they want

-🍁

Hi honey!! I'm so sorry that happened to you, I sincerely hope it wasn't anything like the scenario I chose for this story but if your friends did intentionally abandon you, that speaks far more poorly of them than you. I had that happen to me when I was younger, and now that I have more perspective it's easy to see how those girls were using that as an immature way to deal with their own insecurity. So once again, I hope you weren't in this sort of situation, but if you were please know that it's likely got nothing to do with you and you're amazing and lovely!! <3

Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 586 words

Peter’s hand is warm on your back, rubbing big circles with a steadying pressure. It’s comforting and undoing at the same time, because you’re stubbornly sure you wouldn’t have become so discomposed without his tender sympathy. Another tear slips down your cheek, splattering mascara-black on your thigh. 

“They’re idiots,” Peter says, not for the first time. His voice is weighed down by helpless distress. “They don’t know what they’re missing, sweetheart.” 

You inhale wetly. “I just don’t get how they thought I wouldn’t find out.” 

“My point exactly. They’re idiots.” 

You sniffle again, your tear ducts finally emptied, and you want to lean your head on Peter’s shoulder, but that feels too pathetic and needy right now. Come to think of it, it was probably your pathetic neediness that got you ditched tonight. 

It isn’t the first time this has happened. At least, not the first time you’ve made plans with your friends only for them to all become suddenly busy right before. It is the first time, though, that you’ve received a text meant for someone else, saying that your friend is on their way to dinner and will meet everyone else there. The natural conclusion is that this was just the first slip up; that every time you’ve gotten dressed up only to have your plans canceled, the rest of your friends are carrying out the night without you. 

Like he can feel the want, Peter stops rubbing your back to wrap his arm around your shoulders, encouraging you downwards until you’re leaning on him. He pets your hair, mindless of your makeup and snot getting on his shirt. 

“Can I say something about them that you might not like?” 

Trepidation creeps into your throat, but you nod. Peter would never say anything to make you feel worse than you do right now. 

“I’ve never thought they were very nice people,” he confesses quietly. “The way they talk about each other when some of them aren’t around, not to mention the way they talk about other people…I mean, you’re not like that.” His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, thumb stroking soothingly just above your collarbone. “I think that’s why they don’t always want to hang out with you, honey. You just don’t engage with that stuff. And I don’t mean that as a bad thing.”

You’re silent but for your quiet sniffling, unwilling to condemn your friends but not really finding fault in Peter’s assessment either. 

“They don’t deserve you,” he says softly. “I’m not just saying that because I love you, okay? I mean it. You’re nicer than them, and I think they know it. They don’t want to have to measure up.” A pause. “You hearing me, sweetheart?” 

“I’m hearing you,” you reply croakily. “Thanks, Pete.” 

He squeezes your shoulder. “Nothing to thank me for. Listen, I’m sure you’re not feeling it tonight, but if you still want to wear this outfit somewhere, I’d love to take you out tomorrow. You look so pretty, it’d be a shame if no one but me got to see you all dolled up.” 

You raise your head from his shoulder to give him a look, knowing there’s mascara tracked down your face and snot glossy under your nose. “You think? Should we go out right now?”

Peter knows what you’re about, but his smile is teeming with sweetness anyway. “Absolutely, if you wanna.” 

“You gonna show me off? Just like this?” 

“Grab your bag, sweet thing. Let’s show ‘em who runs this town.”

[lz-didyounotice]

Princess Babysitting

This gif does not belong to me

Heyy! Hope you lots are doing well! For this one, lots of fluff with the doctor. 10th discovering his companion can sing (at least decently). Also slipped some barbie tunes in there since it takes place in the 2000’s. Lots of fond memories. If I'm not mistaken, the next one will be a baking weekend with the 11th doctor. well, hope you enjoy.

Forggit-

Warnings : Comfort and fluff on the horizon. Barbie references.

—--------------------------------------------

Today was supposed to be uneventful.  

For once, you had hoped to get a little time off on earth, but of course, your best friend had to have other ideas. Fanny had an important meeting for their wedding, and couldn’t take the girls with them. She needed you to play babysitter for the two little blonds. 

And there goes your plans to go shopping with the doctor. Even if you were exhausted, you couldn’t turn her down. You were the godmother of the two little monsters after all, and the grandparents were too far from town to be called last minute. 

Getting the girl's bag, you finally got out of the car, the two blonds already sprinting for the door. 

“Wait up girls, the door’s not even open yet!” Key in hand, you let them in. Without doubt, you could feel this was going to be quite the afternoon.

Phone in hand, you tried to call the Tardis, watching the two kids going off inside the guest room.

“Hello ?”

“Doctor !”

“(Y/N)! What seems to be going on ?” The doctor let out, happy to hear your voice.

“Hum… Two little blond monsters scavenging my house… I am afraid our little afternoon out has to be canceled. Fanny had an important meeting, and I couldn’t say no to babysitting the girls.”

“Meh! The shops can wait, want me to drop by tomorrow morning ?”

“Could you also grab some coffee? I think I will need a lot of that.”

"Of course!"

It wasn’t the first time you had to turn down the doctor on one of your days off for the two little demons. You loved them dearly, and in the end you had always found your day more fun than if you had it alone. But spending less time with the timelord was always a bummer.

“So. Girls… What do you want to do ?”

“Can we play 12th princesses ?”

 “Why am I not surprised ?” You said laughing lightly.

“Please?~” The little girls asked, wanting to put out their little dresses. 

“Fine, go change, I’ll grab mine.” 

—--------------

And just like that, morning rolled around. You, still covered in glitter as you had played dress up with the two princesses, pretending for there to be a magic portal in the main room.

The floor was still decorated with many floral stickers, all in the right order, as you were sound asleep on the couch. The two girls had been picked up late last night by their mom. You didn’t dare to take a wash before going to sleep, and instead wrapped yourself in the covers of your couch and slept as much as you could, not wanting to be unable to go through the day.

Soon, the whooshing sound of the Tardis, and an excited Doctor, woke you up, making you wonder at first why you were in such a state. 

Coffee sent spreaded everywhere as you caught the circular pattern on your floor, and the lovely sand shoes standing on them.

“Well, morning Doctor….-”

“Good morning to you too (Y/N). How was your night with the girls ?”

“I’m sure you can figure this out -” You mentioned looking at the mess the room was in.

For now, all you could think of was getting into a shower as soon as possible and getting rid of the glitter in your hair. “Well, make yourself home, i’ll be back in ten minutes..”

Not waiting for an answer, you barely looked at the doctor. Trying to get out of the mess your legs were trapped in. After struggling a moment, he had offered his assistance to you. But letting out a frustrated sigh you dismissed him, tumbling into your room to pick some new clothes, the covers following close behind.

—--------------

You then went for the shower, still half awake. And as you turned on the shower, you felt every worry slip down the drain. Every sparkle trapped in your hair, finally escaping for the most part. Unforntunatly you knew you would find some on your pillow for the rest of the week.

And as you shampooed your hair, you only could think of that stupid movie the girls had you watch. "Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses". The main theme was still stuck in your head. There weren't any lyrics to it, just the melody. And as silly as it was, you couldn’t help yourself from smiling a bit as you started singing, enjoying the reverberation your shower was giving to your voice. 

As you finished showering, taking your towel around you, you twirled, continuing to Derek's tune on the small carpet. And as you opened the door, finally clothed to go on a new adventure, you bumped into the doctor a few steps away from the door.

“Why are you standing there ?” Blush creeps on your cheeks as you realize he might have heard you singing.

“Nothing, admiring your decoration-”

“Against the bathroom door ?” You almost wanted to laugh at the awkwardness he found himself in.

“Now you’re making this sound a lot creepier than it needs to be.”

“It is!~” You mentioned in an exaggerated whisper. Passing by him, you took the coffee he had put on the counter, and directed yourself to the Tardis, the doctor following soon after.

“How come I didn’t know you could sing ?” The brunette asked while putting in the new destination.

“Because you never asked ?” Now you were even more embarrassed. You could sing decently, sure, you would have hoped that by this time in your many lives, you would have caught some tricks to pass as okay. But the Doctor seemed genuinely surprised by your talent. 

Looking more into it, you could see there was something more, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to say.

“Something on your mind Doctor ?” You asked him in a softer tone.

“Do you think you could sing more often in the Tardis ?” The doctor feared for you to reject the proposition. It was in your very right to not do so. But the more he stayed in silence, the more his thoughts got loud. Even the radio wasn’t doing the trick anymore.

“I-I mean. If you're not bothered by it, I don’t see why not…” And finally, a beautiful smile brightened his face. As if something was just leafed from his shoulders. 

“Brilliant! So, where to? Past? Future? New planet ?” 

“How about the 20th century? Edwardian Era?”

“Allons-y!” He let out pulling the levers, you giving him a hand on the ones he couldn’t reach. 

—--------------

And from this point on, you weren’t afraid to sing louder for him to hear, knowing it was something he appreciated. When in the mood he would even join you in your antics, sometimes, leading both of you to dance around the room, for it to be silly or plainly in each other's arms. 

The tension built more and more, to the point both of you couldn’t help it. And you were becoming more and more in love with the man, your heart jumping every time he held you so close to both of his hearts. 

You were becoming a mess when his hands reached for your waist, making you forget the lyrics to the songs you could sing by heart. It couldn’t have been more obvious, still, the Doctor doubted you felt the same, merely noting that some things made a small blush creep on your cheeks. He had supposed it was only shyness when infact it was him who was making you a blushing mess.

How thick the both of you were. Donna would probably have had both your head to not have said anything.

[lovelytsunoda]

mr. winter // pierre gasly

summary: bad weather is keeping her flight grounded for the foreseeable future. as her holidays fall apart, she meets a handsome stranger in the terminal next to hers.

pairing: pierre gasly x female! reader

author's note: this is the most ambitious one yet guys . . . i hope it's as good on paper as it was in my head. there are only three (??) fics left in the christmas collection (daniel, charles, zhou)

when you left, she was a wreck, she said you left a mess but you said that you'd be back home, didn't wanna be all alone (..) hey mr. winter, did you miss her? she'll be waiting all alone, please just say you'll come back home

warnings: lack of christmas spirit, talk about relationship troubles, drinking (but not nearly as much drinking as some of my other fics), y/n gets into pierre's car after not even knowing him for an hour which is a very stupid decision to make (but i think i would too if given the chance-)

author's note: this is the most ambitious one yet guys . . . i hope it's as good on paper as it was in my head. there are only three (??) fics left in the christmas collection (daniel, charles, zhou)

"west jet flight ts74000 from milan to toronto international has been cancelled until further notice."

"fucking hell!" y/n groaned with the other travellers, slumping back in the uncomfortable airport chairs.

she knew she was cutting it close by having her high-school friend group's annual reunion in europe, this close to the holidays, but she never could say no to althea.

althea was lucky: she was staying in italy with her fiancee, jonas, for their first christmas as an 'almost married' couple. y/n on the other hand? she'd already been waiting for her flight for almost six hours. and now it was looking like she'd have to spend the foreseeable future in that gross, sweaty airport as well.

she was going to miss christmas.

it was with a heavy heart and drained spirits that she managed to rouse herself enough to get to the receptionists desk so that she could arrange a new flight.

"are you sure you don't have anything sooner? and by sooner, i mean at some point today, tomorrow at the latest?"

"sorry, signora." the receptionist shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing against her pale skin. she was wearing earrings that looked like christmas wreaths.

the christmas spirit was making y/n nauseous.

"you don't understand, i need to get home."

"you and everybody else. the next flight is twelve a.m in two days time, i'm sorry, signora." the receptionist passed her an envelope before waving the the rest of the line. "next!"

"where the fuck am i supposed to stay for two days? i can't afford a hotel!"

"that's what happens when you travel at christmas, signora."

with a dejected sigh at the realization that she wasn't going to get anywhere, she grabbed the handle of her suitcase and walked back towards terminal b5, dejectedly settling into the uncomfortable plastic chair that was bolted to the terminal's tile floor. she debated calling her mom, letting her know that she wouldn't be home in time for christmas.

she tapped a delicately manicured fingernail against the screen of her iphone before she decided against it, dejectedly burying her head in her hands as she tried not to scream.

"i saw what happened back there. that's rough."

she sat up a little straighter, swiveling her head around. on the other side of the rigid plastic chairs, a man was staring at her. he had a mane of fluffy, brown hair atop his head, and a smile that had definitely broken more than a few hearts.

"yeah, well that's what i get for trying to fly to canada three days before christmas. from what i've heard from my mom, it's been a rough winter back home."

"what brought you to milan?"

"high school reunion. my best friend is getting married and this was the only time that we could all get off." she rolled her eyes "and now look at where i am."

the stranger laughed. "i have been making this flight back to normandy for three years now, and something always goes wrong."

"ah, france. i should have guessed." she said lightheartedly before extending her hand. "i'm y/n."

"pierre. nice to meet you, cherie." pierre winked before shaking the young woman's hand.

"air france flight af20865 from milan to normandy has been cancelled until further notice"

as his side of the terminal just groaned, pierre grinned as he raised an eyebrow. the devilish grin on the frenchman's face made the butterflies run rampant in y/n's stomach, her cheeks heating up pink underneath his gaze.

"it sounds like we could both use a drink. i'm buying?"

y/n laughed, throwing one backpack strap over her shoulder. "as long as you're buying."

the airport bar was the one place where y/n and pierre could find even a semblance of quiet in the stressed, holiday atmosphere of milan international airport. she sat at the bar, listening to the italian christmas carols play softly in the background as she pulled the paper wrapping off a plastic straw, taking that first sip of her sprite.

"do you not drink?" pierre had asked her

"i don't like the taste of alcohol. it's too bitter for me. i don't mind mixed drinks, though. it's weird."

pierre cocked his head, elbow against the counter and palm of his hand propping up the side of his head. his muscles rippled underneath the cable knit sweater he was wearing, and y/n couldn't tear her eyes away. "it's not weird. it's quirky."

"it's one of the eccentricities that gets you called a 'wet blanket' and never invited out with anybody."

"come on, your distaste for alcohol can't be the reason that you came to italy alone. usually people come to europe to search for something. they're looking for love, self-worth. self-discovery."

she almost choked on her mouthful of sprite, coughing in her elbow before turning to pierre. "wow, you really went for the throat there. calling me lonely in four different ways. i've been single for just over a year and a half now. my college relationship fell apart after graduation. it's hard when all of your friends are in committed relationships and you aren't."

"all of my friends are getting dumped, so we can go be idiots together now." pierre shrugged, taking a sip from his drink. "it's actually quite nice."

"typical bachelor behavior." y/n giggled, completely entranced by the frenchman. "god, i fucking hate christmas."

pierre raised an eyebrow. "why is that? how can you hate the most wonderful time of the year."

the young woman groaned, shocked that she was even considering baring her most vulnerable emotions to this stranger.

this very, very beautiful stranger.

"it's just that there's so much pressure on you to be happy, to feel festive, and then you feel bad when you aren't immersing yourself in holiday spirit. there's also so much emphasis on christmas as a couples holiday, and well, if you don't have a boyfriend, it's kind of shit."

"then clearly you haven't been doing christmas right."

y/n raised her eyebrow at the frenchman. "and you have?"

"since both of our flights are grounded, and we have all the time in the world," pierre began, getting up from the barstool and pulling on his leather jacket. "why don't i show you?"

i must be crazy, she told herself as she took his warm hand in hers. "alright, casanova. show me what you've got."

getting into pierre's car was not a smart decision, and even though every neuron in her body should have told her as much, she couldn't bring herself to turn the man down. there was something about him that made her want to let he guard down.

his car was shockingly nice, a honda sportscar that rode low to the ground, had no trunk space and leather seats. why on earth he was about to let it sit in an airport parking lot was beyond her. maybe someone was supposed to come and pick it up for him once he was on the flight.

he pulled out of the airport parking lot, and y/n finally saw sense. she sent off a quick text to althea, knowing that the greek girl was still in italy, including a gps tracker for her location and a scrambled message explaining the handsome man in terminal b4 and the cancelled flight back home.

"im still shocked that italy gets this much snow." she said softly.

"does it not snow where you come from? i thought you were from canada, no?"

y/n laughed. "it doesn't snow around christmas. sometimes we get lucky and there will be a freak storm in january, but christmas is usually just cold and damp and gross."

"well, then we must celebrate the snow while you're still here, mon cher."

she was staring out the window as pierre drove, tiny, imperfect snowflakes collecting against the window, traffic lights glowing through the snowfall and the fog. he drove down a side road, casually looking back at the gps.

at least he put the address in a gps, so there will be a trace, which means he's probably not trying to murder me.

they drove in a comfortable silence, and y/n was completely taken by the atmosphere around her. it was like a hallmark movie: christmas music playing softly in the background (pierre had changed the radio station as soon as y/n got in the car), pierre's fingertips tapping on the steering wheel, the snow falling gently outside.

if only she was in a vintage pickup truck in small town america instead of a sportscar in milan.

pierre pulled off the main highway, taking a side road down a dirt path lined with evergreen trees dusted with snow.

it was magical.

the car came to stop, and pierre cut the engine, leaving the headlights on as he undid his seatbelt. "come on, i want to show you something. you can see the whole city from up here."

she undid her seatbelt, and she reached to open the door only for pierre to have materialized on the other side, pulling the car door open for her. she took his hand and the frenchman helped her out of the car, guiding her towards the area where the glow from the headlights ended.

"oh wow."

she was standing at the edge of a hillside, in a clearing of sorts, the city of milan sparkling and twinkling brightly in the dark. she took our her phone, snapping pictures of the landscape as snowflakes dissolved against her baby blue puffer jacket.

"it's stunning, isn't it?" pierre chuckled, leaning against the hood of his car. "it's a nice place to come when you want a minute away from reality."

she looked back at him, her hair ruffled from the gentl breeze, snowflakes caught in the strand. oh how stunning pierre looked with this mane of fluffy hair dotted in snowflakes.

"come up here often."

pierre grinned. "often enough. shockingly, it's also a very good makeout spot."

"oh, is it?" she laughed, turning back to the breathtaking view of milan, a sense of peace in her body despite the cancelled flights and the lack of christmas spirit.

and then she felt it, the impact against her back, the snow hitting the exposed skin on her neck. she turned around to see pierre standing behind her with a devilish grin on his face.

she couldn't help but laugh. "oh, you're going to regret that." she giggled, reaching down to gather snow in her hand, pierre's hands flying up to block his face as she threw the snowball at him.

the frenchman laughed, retaliating with an even bigger snow ball. they ran around the clearing, lobbing snowballs at each other as they ducked and his behind trees and cars.

when they were out of energy, they came to meet each other at the hood of the honda, faces pink and hair damp from the melted snow as they laughed, breath coming out in clouds in the cold, night air.

"can i kiss you?"

they said it at exactly the same time.

"do you try that with every girl you bring up here?" y/n grinned playfully.

"only you." pierre hummed, cupping her cold face in his palm as he leaned in to kiss her softly in the headlights.

"well, my new flight doesn't leave for two days." she said slyly, raising an eyebrow as she ran her hands over pierre's chest. she never did things like this. she didn't even know his last name.

but maybe this was what she came to italy to do: to meet a handsome french man who made her not hate christmas. a hallmark movie, if you will.

"and i doubt my housesitter will mind if i throw him out for the night."

"so what are you waiting for, casanova."

__

Tags: @mignonricciardo @daydreamingleclerc @diorleclerc

@libraryofloveletters @magnummagnussen @sidcrosbyspuck

@flannel-cures

[spider-stark]

A DARK AGE PREVIEW FOR PART 2 which is out now: link

// a dark tasm fan fiction // read first part here //

“Why are you here?” Mary Jane suddenly repeated the question you had first asked her, the one she had never actually answered. 

You paused for a moment, having only made it less than a foot away from her. “Visiting a friend.” You told her. If all went to plan, then it wasn’t technically a lie. 

Assuming there was little left for her to say, you took another step towards the brick building, only for her to speak again. 

“Peter?” 

There was something strange about the way she said his name. It was hesitant, as if she were worried that you’d say yes. You didn’t like it. 

“Yeah, actually.” You frowned slightly, unable to stop yourself from asking, “Why?” 

The look on her face was uncharacteristically dispirited. She refused to meet your gaze now as she stared past your shoulder at the Hall, “You’re not gonna find him in there.” 

In all the years you’d known Mary Jane, you’d never heard her sound so utterly normal, albeit a touch dejected, with her Miss. America-esque persona seemingly gone in an instant. 

It was uncomfortable. 

“Wait, do you know where he is?”  

“Of course I do.” She answered, quickly countering you, “But if you’re the one meeting him then shouldn’t you know where he is?” 

Your arms moved over your chest, an odd sense of jealousy settling over you. Mary Jane and Peter had never been particularly close, likely due to the lifelong rivalry that you and Gwen both had held with her, and so the idea of him even interacting with the girl left you feeling a bit unsettled. 

“Well, we were supposed to meet here,” you lied, shrugging a shoulder in the general direction of the building, “but it’s been a busy morning, so I guess he might’ve forgotten.” 

You paused, debating whether or not you should continue. There was a good chance that you didn’t want the answer to the question resting on the tip of your tongue, yet you decided to ask it anyway. “Were you just with him?” 

“Yes.” She answered too swiftly, cheeks darkening as she acknowledged her own speedy response. “We were supposed to go for lunch but–um,” Mary Jane cleared her throat, staring at her foot as she awkwardly kicked at the sidewalk, “he had to cancel… Said he was gonna be too busy developing photos all afternoon.” 

Her too-perfect face screwed up in an unsightly sort of way, and you almost felt guilty for making her feel like Peter had ditched her for you. 

Almost. 

Another part of you just felt sickly satisfied, taking great pleasure in her sorrow. You focused on that, finding it much more pleasant than letting your brain drift to the thoughts of why Peter and Mary Jane were going to have lunch together in the first place. 

“Mm, that sucks.”

planning on posting the next part of a dark age tomorrow or the next day if anyone is still interested in it! 11,500+ words for the upcoming part and i'm honestly super stoked for it even if no one else is lol

(preview headline depicts an older article the reader wrote for The Daily Bugle's website)

[charlewiss-writes]

flight cancelled / george russell

masterlist

day 9: airport (part of one-word november prompts!)

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: trying to get home was never more difficult. maybe it was for a reason after all.

author's note: this is awful lmao hope tomorrow will be better 😵‍💫

word count: 0.6k

"what do you mean the flight is cancelled?" you mom almost screamed through the phone. knowing how she would react, you had already removed the little electronic far away from your ear, to avoid going deaf before actually coming back home. "yeah, there's not much that I can do, you know?" you were a bit pissed. it wasn't like you had preferred staying hours stranded at the airport rather than going back to your parents house. "I'm sorry, I have to go now, bye!' you quickly ended the call before she could object with whatever motive she could find.

"annoying boyfriend?" a voice called from behind. when you turned back, you were met with the figure of a tall man, engulfed in a too-big blue hoodie, hair fluffy and slightly going over his blue eyes that looked at you curiously. you smiled, still a little bit warily, not knowing the man well enough to strike a full conversation. "no, annoying mom" you joked back. he caught your unsure approach and giving you his hand to stretch, he introduced himself. "sorry, should have introduced myself before. i'm george. i would assume you were supposed to be on the flight to england too?"

you huffed and nodded, clearly annoyed at remembering again why you were stranded at the airport. he continued. "I don't think we'll get an answer soon about when we can go back home". he was now sitting beside you, with his small luggage just by his side. "don't tell me about it. I was supposed to be there at her birthday and now I won't get there on time" you rubbed your hands on your face, trying to get rid of the stress that had built in your furrowed forehead. "I can get both of us back at home" he spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the poor woman that was sleeping beside you. you laughed a bit, incredulous at what he was saying "it's not like we can drive there, george".

"it's quite a long story. coffee first, maybe?"

you weren't accustomed to the f1 world, so it didn't surprise you too much when he told you he was a famous driver, lewis hamilton's teammate at mercedes. glady he didn't think it was mean that you didn't even have a clue who he was: on the contrary, you had started to like george even before knowing about what he did for a living, and it amazed him that he could simply be george at your side, not bothering to put on the perfect pr-trained mask he was so used to portraying.

—

"you're going on a date? with who?" your mother was following you all around the house, asking a lot of questions while you grabbed all the things you needed before heading out to meet george at a local café near your house. after getting to know him at the airport and then, when he kindly offered to fly you so you could get here on time for your mom's birthday, you had continued texting back and forth, not being able to spend a minute without the british on your thoughts.

"it's not a date, mom. and I don't know, someone i met?" you tried giving the least amount of info you could, knowing that she wouldn't let you in peace, always intruding too much on your personal life (not that you minded too much, knowing that she had good intentions).

she frowned at your answer. "you never go out, and all your uni friends are out of town. where did you met them?" she was right. you didn't have another choice than tell her the truth. "at the airport?".

[theresawritesstuff]

A stressed out Lenny telling the kids that they don’t cause him stress

First of all, and I say this affectionately, how dare you? The feelings inflicted when first reading this prompt… Anyway, enjoy!

***

Lenny lit another cigarette as he sat down at his typewriter (again) after a contemplative (anxious) bout of pacing. 

He was hanging onto his cabaret licence by the skin of his teeth and had taken up some writing gigs to help them through while he was laying low at the insistence of his lawyers.

He and Midge had only been married for a few months. And up until the ticking time bomb on his career had (more imminently) threatened to explode, they had been by far the happiest months of his entire life.

He'd been staying clean, enjoying getting a second chance at fatherhood, at doing right by Kitty as well as Ethan and Esther.

He had a stable partner he could trust. Someone who loves him.

He just couldn't seem to stop getting arrested.

He tried to skirt the line, play nice. But he knew deep down he'd still say what he really meant.

And so did the boys in blue.

So he'd traded punchlines for deadlines.

Because as much as he didn't want to lose his career, he couldn't lose being with his family.

He'd be lying if he said the stress didn't have him jonesing for a hit, even now, over a year clean.

He took a long, steady drag as he stared down at the blank page in front of him, letting the lesser vice take a little of the edge off.

It didn't help much but it was something.

Now if he could just get this damn article written…

A sharp, persistent knock at the front door broke his concentration.

He ignored it.

Then they found the doorbell.

With a final groan, Lenny got up to answer the door, if for no other reason then to tell whoever it was to fuck off.

"Joel?"

"Lenny…" The younger man shifted his weight, averting his eyes awkwardly as an Ethan shaped blur bounded past him and into the apartment, followed shortly by Esther. 

Lenny glanced back over his shoulder, trying to trace the kids' trajectory.

Midge's ex stepped passed him inside, and he allowed it, if nothing else but out of curiosity as to why his stepkids were being brought back early and unannounced.

Joel got ahead of the question, explaining brusquely, "Look, I know I'm supposed to have them until tomorrow but there's an emergency down at the club I gotta take care of."

"Delivery running late?" Lenny snarked, taking another drag.

Joel shot him an indignant look. "No. I let Archie hire this acrobatics act. But I guess they're part of some rival family to the Lins and now they're in a standoff with each other and Archie is trapped under the bar."

He ducked his head into the hallway, calling out, "Hey Midge, you've got two more for dinner!"

Lenny exhaled slowly.

How had she ever been married to this schmuck?

"Midge isn't home. She's got a gig," Lenny informed him.

Joel looked up at him startled.

He shouldn't be. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence. Her career had really taken off since she started featuring on Gordon's show regularly.

'Can't you call her and have her cancel?"

Lenny stubbed out his cigarette in an ash tray rather than dignify the question by looking at him.

"No."

Joel shifted his weight. "I don't suppose Zelda…"

Lenny exhaled tiredly. "Zelda doesn't work for us."

She had been kind enough to drop off Kitty at a friend's slumber party for him tonight so he could focus on meeting his deadline, but Joel didn't need to know that.

"Right. But maybe Abe and Rose…"

"They're in DC. They won't be dropping by this evening either."

"Oh."

The awkward silence that fell between them was split by their mutual son yelling from the other room.

"Esther, did you take my superman comics?!"

"Noooo!" came his sister's reply, from somewhere else in the apartment.

Lenny winced.

These kids were picking up one too many loud Maisel family habits…

He rubbed his temple as Joel continued to vacillate in the hall entry. "Just go. I'll handle it."

Joel looked down the hall after the kids, uncertain. "You seem busy. Maybe I could call–"

"Door is behind you in case you forgot," Lenny reminded him, walking away.

Joel started to follow at his heels. "You know my folks are only–"

"Joel," Lenny snapped, halting in his tracks. He exhaled slowly, remembering to lower his volume for the sake of the kids. "Whether you like it or not, I am these kids' stepfather now. Caring for them was part of the job description. They're safer here than in a gang war. I've got this. Go. Before Archie earns himself a purple heart protecting the good booze."

As much as he clearly hated it, the younger man knew he was right. "Okay�� yeah, okay."

Without a word to the kids, he turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

"Fuck," Lenny muttered under his breath.

He trudged into the kitchen and began looking through the pantry for something to feed the three of them.

"Lenny! Esther took my–"

"We have other books here, you know. You don't have to fight over the newsprints," Lenny sighed, not up for playing referee.

"...Okay." 

Ethan hovered skeptically at his elbow. "What are you doing?"

"You kids haven't had dinner yet," he reminded him.

"Well, yeah, but…Do you even know how to cook?"

Lenny bit his tongue. "Fed myself just fine most of my life."

"Esther doesn't like canned beans," Ethan reminded him.

"I wasn't looking for– You know what? I think Imogene left a meatloaf or something here last time she was over. Let's do that," he suggested, pivoting towards the fridge.

"Isn't it frozen?" Ethan wondered. 

Lenny shrugged as he rummaged through the ice box. "So we'll bump the oven up a bit. It will be fine."

"If you say so."

"I do."

Meatloaf acquired, he placed the pan in the oven and turned it on, letting it do it's thing.

"There. Toss in a few potatoes and we'll be eating within the hour. Think you'll survive?"

Ethan nodded.

"Good. Now go do your homework or something while I work on churning out this article. And no pestering each other while I do, got it?"

His son nodded again.

"Good."

After scrubbing a couple of potatoes and unceremoniously tossing them in with the meatloaf, he was back to his typewriter.

He'd managed to write two paragraphs before the sound of crashing plates met his ears.

He found Esther perched on the countertop, looking down completely mortified over a broken plate on the floor, the other unbroken dishes clutched tight in her little hands.

'Esther, what are you doing?" Lenny sighed, picking her up off the counter and setting her down.

Fancy fucking schools with fucking jungle gyms teaching these kids to climb.

"I just wanted to help," she said.

'Okay just don't touch that. You'll cut yourself," he warned, stopping her before she could pick up the broken plate. "Just go play. I'll get the broom."

"Sorry," she whispered.

Poor kid just wanted to set the table.

"It's just a plate sweetie. We've got others," he assured her.

"Lenny?" Ethan popped his head back in the kitchen.

He let out a groan, kneeling tiredly on the linoleum. "Yeah?"

"Is meatloaf supposed to smell like that?"

Lenny sniffed.

"Shit."

He scrambled for an oven mitt, pulling the pan from the oven.

The sauce Imogene had slathered on top was scorched. The inside, upon inspection, remained raw.

"Damn it," Lenny whispered, tossing the oven mitt down in defeat, sinking into a chair.

"Sorry pop dropped us on you," Ethan murmured quietly.

"We can have peanut butter sandwiches or something," Esther suggested.

Lenny looked up at his kids, because blood or not they were his now too as far as he was concerned.

"This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault, understood?"

The pair nodded quietly. Appeasingly.

Damnit…

Lenny rubbed his brow tiredly. "Look… I'm not gonna lie to you kids, your old man didn't pick a great night to drop in unannounced, but that doesn't mean I want you kids gone. You are the least stressful part of my evening. I love you. You know that, right?"

Esther draped her little arms around his shoulders quietly. "We love you, too."

After a moment, Ethan asked, "Do we even have peanut butter right now?"

Lenny smirked.

"Your mom was planning on getting groceries tomorrow."

"Oh…"

"Tell you what." Lenny tapped the table, getting to his feet. "Go find something to watch on TV. We'll do popcorn and a movie together."

"What about your article?" Esther wondered.

 "I'll work on my article later. Right now I'm focusing on spending time with you two."

Ethan looked at him skeptically. "You sure?"

Lenny smirked, hefting the bag of corn kernels from the pantry in his hand. "Your mother's been telling me I need to take a break anyway. Don't tell her this but I think she might be right."

That finally earned a genuine smile from the kids.

"Off you go. You know where the remote is," he shooed good-naturedly, smiling to himself as he watched them scamper off.

Maybe a break really is what he needed.

Later that night, Midge tiptoed in, pausing at the doorway to the living room at the sight of a blanket fort in the middle of the room, her son's distinctive snore emanating from somewhere inside. 

Popcorn bowls were stacked neatly by the remote, and the sound of rhythmic typing bandied back and forth with Ethan's snoring.

She found Lenny in his office, typing away, looking more himself than he had in weeks.

"Hey," she murmured from the doorway.

He looked up with that soft smile he saved only for her. "Hey."

"Did you know Ethan and Esther are–"

He nodded, looking over his work for errors. "Joel had an emergency. I got the better end of the deal. How was the gig?"

"Good. Great crowd."

"The Copa knows how to pack 'em in."

She smiled, coming in to stand behind him, kissing his cheek before draping her arms around his neck. "You seem to have had a busy night."

He shrugged, inclining his face towards hers. "All in a night's work."

"Looks like you finally had a breakthrough."

Lenny chuckled. "Something like that. Almost finished."

"I'll leave you to it then," she offered, patting his shoulder.

"Hey…" He reached up, holding her hand tight before she could slip away. "In case I haven't mentioned it lately, I really love this little family we've cobbled together."

Midge melted just a touch, marveling at the little ways he could still make her fall in love with him all over again.

Bending down, she gave him a lingering kiss, resting her head against his when they parted.

"We're lucky to have you."

[tokiro07]

Cipher Academy ch.40 thoughts

[Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow]

NOT KASURI!!!

WE WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE TOSHUSAI OR YUGATA CUT THEIR HAIR TO BE OUR MEDAKA, BUT NOW KASURI GOT RID OF HER BANGS TO BECOME THE TSURUBAMI!!!

Oh, fun little coinkydink, though, much like in this week's Undead Unluck, we're getting a little lesson in character design here: the same way that UU's Rip has a mole under his eye to denote who he is when wearing full surgical gear, we can tell retroactively that Kasuri was designed with a choker specifically so we could identify her once she lost her bangs, as she is pretty much completely unrecognizable without them

Onto the chapter itself, as usual, I am a clown who doesn't voice the thoughts that are actually correct. My immediate thought last week when Iroha said there was someone he wanted to convince was Kasuri, as she was his first friend and she hadn't gotten to contribute much to the story the entire time, so it was weird to me that she wasn't going to be a part of this arc either

The reason I eliminated her as a possibility was because of how Iroha worded his statement, specifically implying he meant someone not in the room. This of course was a rookie mistake, as of course Nisio was going to turn it around like that. That's like the most Nisio Isin thing he's done this entire series, and this is the same chapter he had a girl cut her hair!!!

Funny to consider in retrospect though that Kasuri is not in fact the first girl to get a Nisio haircut; that honor technically goes to Yukako, who we learned about 15 chapters ago now used to have long hair, but that was off-screen, so we didn't count it

I do like this moment for Kasuri, as she made it pretty clear from the get that she had no ambition or self-worth, so her coming to understand that she does have value based on the fact that Iroha wants her around is a nice bit of development for her character, even if we haven't gotten to see how down on herself she really is aside from this scene and her introduction. I would have liked to have it fleshed out a bit more thoroughly, but with the ever-present threat of cancelation, I can't say I don't understand why her character specifically might be a little truncated

I also enjoy that Iroha actively wants Kasuri by his side above the rest of his classmates since she's literally the first friend he made here. Sure, he was on friendly terms with Kogoe first, but regardless of what his thoughts were going in, he definitely knows by now that she's not just backing him because she thinks he's a cool dude. Kasuri, though, was on nickname basis in basically no time at all. They clearly have a level of trust and familiarity that's completely incomparable to everyone else, even considering how shockingly thirsty he is for the other three CLP candidates, so I'm excited to get to see that explored more in the coming arc. Hopefully I'll get to go into more detail on their relationship myself soon, but we'll see

I'm not going to speculate on who the other four teammates are going to be since we don't have much of anything to go on and there's such a high chance of me being wrong, but I won't be surprised if it's basically all girls we haven't spent any time with before, nor will I be surprised if all of them turn out to basically be red-herring characters who were never meant to matter either. Since Kasuri seems to have some kind of sapphic obsession with Botayama, I'm kind of hoping she'll get to come along, but I'm starting to think she might be a gag character, so perhaps not

I'm also not going to speculate too deep into which choice Iroha will make about who he's going to meet with, since both make perfect sense for his character. He's either going to prioritize helping someone in immediate danger, justifying it as what his friend would do or something to that effect, or he's going to prioritize helping his friend, as he can't abandon a friend in need or something like that. In the end, he's undoubtedly going to get to have his cake and eat it too somehow, since these are both plot points that we'll need to address sooner or later, but these specific avenues to reaching those plot points may well be eliminated in the short-term depending on his choices now

Once he makes his choice, I'll probably have a lot more to say on the topic, either based on the explanation he gives or the lack thereof, but for now, it's not at all clear what path he's going to take, so we'll just have to wait and see

[jammie3132]

Sir Knight and Prince Charming, Ch. 3

So...I haven't posted here in a while (DUH) and it looks like a lot of things have changed. Since I'm pretty confused, I'm just going to post this here like this. What I am going to do is put the link to AO3 ( at the bottom) because I don't remember if I posted the first 2 chapters. My timeline is all whackadoodle and I'm going to need more time (and a lot of wine) to go through that mess. Wish me luck!

THURSDAY…EXACTLY 2 WEEKS LATER

Santana stared at the 3x5 cards on the push-pin board in her office, uncertain of what to do with this new clue.

**June Dolloway cancels B’s Showcase & Met Gala**

Granted, it couldn’t be helped. Her sister-in-law broke her hip and she was going to France to take care of her. But, since June and her bad directions/wrong number brought Sir Knight into the picture in the first place, anything June related had to be included on the Blaine Board.

But where?

Trouty was in Kentucky for the twins’ birthday which meant it fell on her shoulders to get some answers. Seriously, it did, and this time it wasn’t for fun like when she figured out Berry’s sleazy ex was a gigolo. Ok, yes, she originally thought drug dealer but tomato-tomato. What bugged her was it only took 3 hours to solve that mystery and 2 weeks later she was no closer to figuring out what caused the change in Blaine.

He hadn’t left the basement in over a week. In one way this was completely understandable. Afterall, the place was called Blaineland.

None of them (even those who lived there) had ever been in the basement. Mercedes constantly reminded the group the record label declared it off limits and she wasn’t going to piss them off. Then the Andersons bought the brownstone and wanted some pictures of the furnace.

Everyone was stunned by what they discovered but Blaine fell to his knees and sobbed like a baby. The whole thing was a state-of-the-art recording studio with a baby grand piano and 2 lounges, one being a home theater and concession stand with a movie theater popcorn machine!!!

This was all amazing but not leaving the basement included Blaine’s classes at NYADA. Yes, he arranged excused absences for earlier in the week because he didn’t know what his state of mind would be with Tuesday being the one-year anniversary of the shooting at McKinley.

You say school shooting and people are a bit more understanding.

Today was Thursday…no classes but he flat-out stated he wasn’t going to his Song Writing Workshop tomorrow.

Damn it! She’d fallen down a rabbit hole yet again. Stay focused, Lopez! Back to the beginning, or what Blond Chameleon (dork!) believed was the beginning.

**Sir Knight=Sebastian Smythe?**

This never felt quite right. Don’t get her wrong, her psychic Mexican-third eye was screaming the SOB was somehow involved.

The only thing she couldn’t get past was Blaine’s insistence his Knight in Shining Armor couldn’t possibly be Slushie Smurf. There’s a sadness behind the denials. A sadness Blaine’s expressive eyes couldn’t hide, at least to her. How come she seemed to be the only one who saw it?

Wasn’t Blaine supposed to be the oblivious one, not his best friend and boyfriend?

Hummel kept insisting whatever was happening was no big deal. The day after the Thursday from Hell, Blaine met with his song writing professor and it didn’t go well. In fact, it went so badly the professor told him if he didn’t fix his assignment by the due date, she’d have no other choice but to fail him.

**Song Writing Fail**

She pulled off the card and moved it to align with the Sir Knight card. This made more sense to why Blaine practically moved into a music studio.

Well, that and the fact his old room was now her office/temporary bedroom and his new room was part of the remodel.

But the meeting with the professor happened on Friday which meant it couldn’t be the catalyst for Blaine’s change. Too much crap happened the day before, especially some events she believed hadn’t been given enough attention due to their (*cough* Sam’s) Sir Knight focus.

**Kurt’s temper tantrum saying Blaine was responsible for his getting kicked off the photoshoot**

**Kurt talks to Chinese Food delivery guy, has a complete 180 attitude change and apologizes for earlier behavior**

**Kurt never explains what happened at Vogue or what caused the attitude change**

Rachel (accidently) mentioned something about Kurt having to sign a big NDA agreement for the photoshoot but, of course, didn’t know details. Did everyone at Vogue have to sign an NDA? If so, there was no way to get information there. But what about the delivery guy? What did he say to flip Hummel? Should she go try to talk to him?

Should she add all this to the board?

She was still deciding when her phone rang. Looking at the clock, she remembered Pamela had scheduled a call at this time. But from the ringtone alert it wasn’t her but her husband.

That’s weird

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.”

“Good morning, Santana. How are you?”

“Um, a little confused. I was expecting Pamela so we could finalize the schedule for tomorrow’s demolition and the start of the remodel on Monday.”

The Andersons hired her (temporarily) to handle Pamela’s ridiculous (and constantly growing) To Do List. Blaine and Sam had too much on their plates, especially when it was announced Sam had won the role of Mike in the Magic Mike Musical.

She still couldn’t believe she caught Rachel’s reaction to the news. It was even better when Artie put the video on a loop (with cut ins of Sam doing his body rolls) and set it to music…Pony, of course.

Anyway, one day after she went (verbally) Lima Heights on one of the contractors (who Blam believed was mobbed up) the temporary title went away. Now she’s the Andersons’ personal assistant/house manager and unofficial Blam babysitter.

It was the best job she’d ever had and not just because she’d been fired by both Yeast-I-Stat and the diner (long story). Charles calling had her worried. He must have picked that up from her tone. “Santana, everything’s fine. Plans changed and Pammy left for LA this morning to see Cooper. You’re doing a great job. Better than we dared to hope.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Wait… “When you say plans changed, does that mean the record label got the judge to void the sale of the brownstone?”

His laughter made it clear that wasn’t the case.

“Nope. Like I said all along, it’s not mine and Pammy’s fault the producer who was supposed to live there funneled 3 million dollars from the company to build a studio and no one noticed. And even though the paperwork isn’t completely finalized, enough of it has been. It also helped we purchased the place in cash, as is, expedited closing at the label’s insistence.”

“As is being the important part. Right?”

“Smart girl but the label being the party to insist on the fast closing didn’t hurt. The judge did admit my getting the contracts pushed through in less than 24 hours tied his hands. It usually takes around 30 days to close on a property.”

“Not your fault you’re good at your job…whatever it is. It was fun watching the people from the label heads explode when they realized how badly they screwed up. But, Mr. Anderson, you haven’t said what the change of plans are?”

“Turns out you are not the only one who believes I’m good at what I do. The parent company of the record label offered me a job running the non-talent portion of the label. You know, the boring stuff. I’m flying into NYC in the morning to listen to what they have to say. Since today is Thursday, can you tell Blaine I’m coming? Sam told me you’re now the gatekeeper for emergency contacts and I’ve learned my lesson about interrupting his Blaine Time.”

This is your job…this is your job…this is your job

You love your job…you love your job…you love your job

“Yes, of course I’ll tell Blaine. Do you want him to call you?”

“That’s not necessary. My appointment/interview is more of a business lunch so I’ll call him afterwards.” There was a pause, but she could feel he wasn’t finished. “Santana, tell me the truth, at least as much as you’re comfortable telling me without breaking Blaine’s…I mean…it’s just, how is he doing? Sam said the anniversary of the McKinley shooting hit them all harder than they realized it would. Then June Dolloway cancelled his Showcase…”

“You know why she did that. Right?”

“Oh, yes. My mother fell and broke her hip last year. My brothers and I all took turns caring for her so, as a son, I completely understand. As a father, I’m worried about the ramifications for my child.”

A father who gives a damn, even after all the crap that happened when his child came out as gay. Must be nice.

“I do know he has a meeting with Carmen Tibideaux at NYADA next week, but otherwise he really hasn’t said anything. Remember, he only found all this out yesterday.”

“He’s not talking to anyone? I know Sam’s in Kentucky but not even Kurt? And what about that new friend of his…the guy he calls Sir Knight?” WTF? How does he know? “Sam told me the two of you have been trying to find out who he is.”

I…AM…GOING…TO…KILL…HIM!!!!!

“You know Sam. No way his Superhero alter ego can pass up on a mystery.”

“He said maybe there was a tie in with the Warblers. Pammy says Blaine tried to keep his friendships with them even after what happened with his eye but after the steroids everything fell apart.”

That was new. Ok, maybe Sam wasn’t going to die. Plus, Charles was referring to the Warblers as a whole and not one particular Warbler who nearly blinded his son.

“We did think there might be a connection to the Warblers but don’t see how it would connect back to June.”

“June?”

“She gave Blaine the wrong number which turned out to be Sir Knight’s. But our research didn’t go anywhere because neither of us knew any of the Warblers’ full names.”

“Having those names is important?”

“Can’t cyberstalk someone if you don’t know their name.”

They did know the name Sebastian Smythe. Why hadn’t they just Googled the ass? What an epic fail.

She blames Sam, or even better, Blond Chameleon.

“True, but please try to not call your research cyberstalking. Let me get ahold of Pammy and see what she can do, if anything. And Santana, thanks for helping look after my boy. Something’s going on and I don’t want Blaine falling back into the depression he was in last year. Pammy and I still haven’t forgiven ourselves for not catching on sooner.”

After their goodbyes ended, she started to write down all the new information Charles gave her. Right when she pinned the last new 3x5 card to the Blaine Board, an email alert from Pamela popped up on her computer screen. In it was her log-in and password to the Dalton Parent Portal. She’d just gone online and confirmed it worked.

After all this time? Blaine left Dalton nearly 3 years ago. You’d think a fancy private school would have better cyber security. Reading further, Pamela explained alumni bios were listed by graduation year. No graduation, no listing, and yes, that included Blaine.

Again…so why did Pamela’s log-in and password work?

Bios would include the college the alumni currently attend. Since the majority of Dalton boys usually wound up in the Ivy League, at least one of Blaine’s old friends should be close to the NYC area.

The email also contained a list of names to concentrate on. She almost fell out her chair when she got to the final name.

Sebastian Smythe

Even with that mind-blowing development, she knew going through the Dalton site could take hours. She’d have plenty of time for research tomorrow when the kitchen and bathrooms were being ripped out. The best thing to do was to stick to her original plan to try to find the delivery guy from 2 weeks ago.

There was something she had to do before she left.

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she was surprised to see Blaine at the theater’s concession stand and not in the studio.

At least he’s eating.

“Hey Hermit, it’s Blaine Day. Go to a park and sit under a tree like you usually do.”

“Hermit? Isn’t it Hobbit?”

“Not after this week.”

“Santana…”

“Hey, it’s your fucking life. Do what you want. I just thought you’d like to know your dad called and is going to be here tomorrow for a meeting. If you don’t want him asking more questions than he already will, get some sun on your face!” As she quickly planned a dramatic exit for emphasis, she calmed down long enough to suggest “Call Sir Knight, or text, whatever.”

“I can’t.”

WTF???!!!

“What the hell do you mean I can’t? You’ve been communicating with the guy non-stop for 2 weeks. I’m still in awe how you convinced Hummel to give you a pass on the whole Klaine texting is cheating bull-shit.”

“It’s not a big deal. We agreed to end our chats. He left the country for work, or his grandmother is sick, or both. I don’t know. He said he’s going to be extremely busy and knew I needed to focus on my Showcase, although, that’s not a problem anymore.”

“When? When did you guys break-up?”

“We didn’t break-up and does it really matter when it happened?”

“Blaine…”

“Santana, it’s not like we were friends. He was a wrong number.”

From the look on his face, she knew Blaine was lying. Even in that short amount of time, Sir Knight had become important to Prince Charming. “Call June and ask her what the hell’s going on. We all know that so-called wrong number wasn’t random.”

“She’s in France taking care of her sister-in-law. I’m not going to bother her with this. Sir Knight is gone, so you and Sam can stop your not-so secret mission to prove he was Sebastian which I told you wasn’t possible in the first place!”

3 HOURS LATER

She let herself into the brownstone and proceeded to her office, ignoring the overwhelming desire to go to the basement and check on Blaine. No way he’d gone to a park.

Even though it was barely 1PM, she decided to change into comfy clothes. The best perk of her new job was getting to move out of the loft and into the brownstone. She didn’t care if it was going to be under construction for the next month. Had to be less annoying than Hummel and Berry’s constant bitching. And it’s not like she couldn’t escape if she wanted. Blaineland was completely soundproof due to the studio and home theater.

Sitting back at her desk, she checked her messages. She had one from Sam but if she had a guess he wanted the breakdown of what happened with the delivery guy…Ray. She didn’t even bother to read what he sent and sent one of her own reminding him to spend time with his fucking family. He’d be back in a few days and they’d fix the Blaine Board then.

It wasn’t that she was pushing Blond Chameleon out, he’d just be laser focused on the Sir Knight/Prince Charming (non) break-up. She’s 100% certain Kurt’s Thursday from Hell behavior was the key to all this and her trip to Manhattan only reinforced her beliefs.

Everything went better than she hoped. Not only was Ray working, he remembered her as a friend of Kurt’s (his words…not hers). The first thing she asked was if he knew who sent the food to Blaine. He said he had an idea but was curious why, after 2 weeks, she came all this way to ask.

She had prepared for this.

Her story was that Blaine knew who sent the food but won’t tell anyone. He did say all of them knew/at least met the person from high school. It was beginning to drive them crazy so she and Blaine’s other friends, other than Kurt, turned it into a bet to see who could solve the mystery first. She pulled out a $100 bill…

Still had no idea how to put bribe money in the petty cash ledger but had a feeling the Andersons would be fine with it.

“I’m willing to pay for information.”

The flashing of money brought others over to “help”. They all agreed with Ray when he said, though he couldn’t confirm it, the food had to be sent by the talent or someone in their entourage. The reasoning being unless it was Isabelle Wright, who all agreed it wasn’t, the Vogue employees working the photoshoot couldn’t afford the dinner(s) sent to the brownstone.

And while the NDAs were no joke, and Vogue employees were extremely careful with what they said in public, each of her new buddies had overheard bits and pieces about that night.

It was to launch the new face of a famous fashion house, and the person being shot was a guy. Also, he was an unknown who’d been discovered when a model went AWOL at one of last season’s Fashion Week runway shows in Paris. A friend of a friend (something like that) called this guy and begged him to do it even though he wasn’t a model. The rest was history. One girl added she overheard there was something else going on with the guy, something bigger, like maybe an acting role.

She thanked everyone and pulled out two more $100 bills for them to split as they saw fit. Then she took Ray to the side and asked how much of this information Kurt had. He told her the one thing he told Kurt was the talent sent the food to Blaine, not that it was only a theory. Then he reminded her Kurt had to know a lot more than any of them but wasn’t saying anything due to the NDA.

Must be one hell of an NDA.

She put all this new info on 3x5s cards but after pinning them to the Blaine Board she found herself at a crossroads. Everything was ready for the contractors’ arrival in the morning. There were no more errands to run. She could go down and watch a movie.

Relax and clear her mind of all things Blaine Anderson.

Who was she kidding? The reason she’d allowed herself to get tangled in this web in the first place was so she didn’t have to clear her mind. If she did, she might have to start dealing with the fact Dani dumped her by leaving a letter at the diner for when she returned from Iowa. And how that bitch Brenda found it and convinced the staff to do a routine to Taylor Swift’s We Are Never Getting Back Together as she handed her Dani’s letter. And how she punched that bitch Brenda and had the choice of being fired or having the cops called.

And how in the letter Dani asked her to tell Kurt Elliot had gone to Nashville with her, completely blowing up Hummel’s band. While she could somewhat see Dani in Tennessee the Glitter Rock Vampire made zero sense.

And couldn’t she have asked Berry who still worked at the diner? Who knows, maybe she left a letter for Rachel asking her and that bitch Brenda did something with it. She managed to keep all her other evil plans secret from her then roommate.

Stop it! She needed a distraction and even though she scheduled her Dalton website research for tomorrow, it wouldn’t hurt to check out the one surprise name on Pamela’s list.

Getting on the site was ridiculously easy as was finding the alumni lists. Assuming Smythe graduated the same year as Blam (although she would’ve sworn Blaine was a Senior, not a Sophomore, when they met) she went to 2013. He wasn’t there. That didn’t make sense. Was he still at Dalton?

She put Smythe into the home page search engine and the only things that popped up were Warbler competition videos (the last being last year’s Sectionals) and articles about the LaCross team from the previous year. All mentions of Sebastian end there. Did he leave Dalton before he graduated? Oh crap! Did he have something to do with the steroids? Both Sam and Blaine said there was no proof he was and the Warbler who ratted them out never mentioned the former captain.

*Ding…Dong*

Oh, thank God! While she wanted a distraction, she could see getting lost in this rabbit hole for hours and she had an early wake-up time.

Reaching for the doorknob she prepared herself for Kurt and whatever drama he’d twisted into an emergency to get her to call Blaine for him. She was pleasantly surprised to instead find a beautiful woman with a radiant smile and a killer body.

Not the time Lopez

“May I help you?”

“Are you Santana?”

“Yes…and you are?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought Sam told you I’d be stopping by. My name is Annabelle and I’m one of his manager’s assistants. I’m here to pick up the packet he left so we can get his tax and union paperwork filed before he officially begins work on the musical.”

“He didn’t…wait, he sent me a text but I assumed it was for something else. You don’t look like a serial killer so if you want to come in while I check, you’re more than welcome. Warning though, there’s nowhere to sit because remodeling begins tomorrow.”

Annabelle smiled a smile Santana was trying really hard not to read into. “I’m definitely not a serial killer, although my primary client might disagree. I have threatened him with bodily harm on more than one occasion.”

“Sorry, sounds like a douche bag.”

“No, he’s not, more like an annoying little brother. But I’ll never tell him that.”

“Ok, now I can totally sympathize but at least you don’t get a 2 for 1 like I do with Blam. I’ll be right back.”

As she tried to not look at Santana’s ass as the beautiful woman went to what she assumed was a home office, Annabelle took in her surroundings. There was a rumor going around that one of the major music labels had millions of dollars embezzled by a producer to build a studio in the brownstone they bought for him. In addition, they didn’t find out until after they sold the place.

The guy who bought it was some sort of genius and had a judge agree anything attached to (even just screwed into the wall) the structure was included in the as is purchase price.

Since everyone in the NYC entertainment (not just music) industry thought the CEO of the label was an asshole they were celebrating still unknown man as a modern-day Robin Hood. And while the odds this being that particular brownstone were astronomical, she was still going to ask.

“I got ahold of Trouty. Yes, he did send a message, the one I ignored, so here you go.” Santana handed over an envelope, both women going out of their way not to touch the other’s hand. “He also said his manager wanted to know about the study system Blam developed back in high school to help his dyslexia.”

“You keep referring to Blam. Who is that?"

"Sam and his best friend. It’s like they have one mind so it’s easier to give them one name.”

“Would it be possible to get his number so I can talk to him on how to help Sam?”

“He’s in the studio in the basement. Maybe Hermit will actually leave it if he knows it’s to help Trouty.”

Hermit? Trouty? Annabelle only cared about one word “Studio? There’s a studio in the basement?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet. We found it when the Andersons bought the place. Hold on, I’ll have to send a text. The whole level is soundproof.” Santana watched as Annabelle turned into a cartoon character with as wide as her eyes got and how far her jaw dropped. “Is something wrong?”

“Holy Shit! The rumors are true?”

“Rumors?”

“The brownstone with the studio!! How the guy who bought it screwed the label out of millions of dollars. He’s a fucking legend!”

“My dad didn’t screw anyone out of anything. It’s not his fault the label had such shitty bookkeeping.”

Annabelle turned around and went straight back to cartoon mode. She’d recognize that guy anywhere. “Blaine Fucking Anderson.”

“Excuse me. Who the hell are you to call me that?”

Santana was put off as well. Things had been going great until that moment. “Annabelle…”

It was Blaine’s turn to turn into a cartoon character. “Annabelle? Annabelle who works as an assistant to an entertainment manager?”

Their guest still wasn’t talking and had gone so far as to put her hand over her mouth. Santana quickly came to the conclusion she was the only one with no idea what was happening. “Blaine, why does Annabelle’s name and job matter?”

“Because Sir Knight had someone like you who took care of shit for him but she was his manager’s assistant and her name was Annabelle. Joey, the driver, knows where I live but he didn’t know my name.”

“Blaine, I’m sorry…”

“Are you here to spy on me under the pretense of taking care of Sam? There’s no reason. Sir Knight left the country and told me he’d be too busy to chat so it would be best if we stopped.” Then it dawned on him. “How do you know my name? Did you do some sort of research on me?”

Santana huffed and threw up her arms in frustration. “If she did and got your name, she’s much better than me and the Blond Chameleon. We still have no clue who Sir Knight is. How did you figure it out? Is it because the driver guy had Blainer’s address?”

Annabelle pulled back her hair, obviously a nervous habit, and shook her head. “You don’t understand. I could lose my job for the little bit I’ve already accidently said.” She looked away from Santana to Blaine and saw the same pained expression on his face that she saw on Sebastain’s when he left for Paris. Yes, he was worried about his Nana but she knew it was also for the loss of his Prince Charming.

She had no idea why he cut Blaine off when he needed his friend (love of his life) the most. He had an international phone plan. Screw it! The jerk needed her too much to have Benny fire her.

“Sir Knight knew you were Blaine Anderson the second you called him the first time. You obviously hadn’t changed your number in years.”

Blaine and Santana grabbed each other’s arms as a means to keep balance. It was a bad time not to have any furniture to hold on to. “I haven’t changed my number. The Ohio area code should have been the first clue” Blaine said as he tried to remember his first conversations with Sir Knight. “But he had changed phones recently to a private line.”

“Yes, and I set it up with only the 22 contacts he was allowed to keep. Evidently, he later deleted his parents and put you in himself…under the name Killer. It looks like you both figured it out but if you’re looking for confirmation…Sir Knight’s name is Sebastian Smythe.”

“Damn it! The Blond Chameleon is going to be an even bigger pain in the ass once he finds out he was right all along!”

AO3

[aetherspoon]

A not-so-simple relocation, day -1.

TW: Suicidal thoughts, under the cut.

I'm currently taking a forced break from packing and thought to write down some of my thoughts.

For those that don't know, I'm moving from the United States to Norway. Specifically flying out tomorrow, arriving the day after, bringing all sorts of things with me including three friends (who will return in a week) and two cats (who will not be returning within a week).

Unfortunately for me, this move has been anything but normal, even given the fact that I'm relocating to a different hemisphere. I had plans to have a friend here a few days in advance (that fell through; no one is arriving until tonight), I had plans for an organizer to help me settle things (she caught Covid and had to cancel), I even had plans for having a day off before the movers arrived... but the movers arrived at the absolute earliest time possible.

My computers are all packed at this point save the laptop I'm typing this on, although my main desktop is sitting in a giant box that I'm crossing my fingers the bag check person will look over the size on rather than shipping her like I had planned. I'm currently up to seven checked bags and likely need a few more. I already asked my existing roommate (who is buying my house from me) if it was okay to leave some things behind for when I return in September, so it isn't THAT big of a deal if not everything comes with me this time.

So, why the trigger warning? Well, today in particular has been pretty bad for me - lots of things going wrong, expecting some things to be available for me that were packed by the movers (which goes on a slow boat), other things that were supposed to be packed that weren't. Nothing against the movers, they were awesome - this was entirely on me for being so disorganized.

But one thing came up this afternoon that kind of broke me - my headphones were missing. I have a pair of really nice noise cancelling headphones that I bought after losing my old pair (which in of itself triggered a mental breakdown when I realized it had happened). They're supposed to be extra nice for the airplane so I can try and relax with some degree of success. They were missing.

I looked everywhere for them, couldn't find them. Even found their case, but not the headphones. I gave up looking and even looked at buying another pair at a local store before leaving because all of them were overpriced and didn't meet my needs. But I found them! They were buried between two of my bags for some reason.

That's good news, right?

Brain, immediate thought: "Ah good, you're not a complete fuck-up apparently. You'd still be better off dead given all of the hassle you made your friends deal with though. Better to just end it now."

I am technically classified as in remission from my depression at this point. I've been doing a lot better lately, reframing various negative thoughts. My anxiety has been utterly ridiculous (see this whole move business), but depression hasn't really been as present. It has been a while since my last major suicidal thought, even if my depression has been rather nasty this past week - but that's temporary, not a longer lasting depression, hence the "remission" part of my official diagnosis.

Upon that thought, I stopped packing, told my partner (who I was on a video call with) about it, then stopped to take a break. I've watched a couple of short videos, typed up this post, and just sat here focusing on anything but my current situation. And yes, typing up a blog talking about said situation doesn't count for me; my brain makes the rules, not me.

Tomorrow morning, I leave my house. I leave behind various bits of furniture, random odds and ends that need to be donated or recycled, my former life, my friends, the place I've lived the longest by a large margin, and most importantly one of my cats (we decided that Boo would be happier by herself and she's known my housemate just as long as me).

I really hope this is the right decision.

[nipperlovesfenix]

I'm having some big (?) feelings about this making friends thing. Natalia and I are supposed to hang out this morning and I haven't heard from her since yesterday afternoon. We never agreed on a time and I know that since I put it in my calendar for 9am and the bookstore doesn't open until 10.

It's 8:21. If we have plans for the morning we should have a tentative idea of what we're doing today. And we don't. When we originally made plans I offered to buy her coffee since her drive was longer than mine. But now the bookstore we were going to go to might not be an option (it's closing and probably has nothing left at this point). I gave other suggestions of things we could do. I did it in video format rather than text.

What am I feeling? Disappointed more than anything. I could take the lead here and ask for clarification about what's happening today but I'm going to leave the ball in her court. She said something yesterday that I didn't notice until today.

"If anything pops up I'll let you know tonight ahead of time but hopefully we can meet tomorrow".

Radio silence since. That was at about 3 in the afternoon. It's 8:28 in the morning now.

Hopefully we can meet tomorrow? It just sounds very noncommittal. It's fine let's just cancel the plans so I'm.not waiting later.

[ireceived-p8250000]

January 5-11, 2014

Sunday

My parents, Ran, Roxanne, and I went to Good Taste just to eat out. We then came home.

Monday

Mansoor arrived from his family trip. He assisted with my enrollment. Myla and I had lunch and enrolled together. Along the hallway, I saw Sir Apollo passing by. Myla greeted him, and we stole glances. I received a text from him inviting me to a certain room. We were done, and Myla wanted to hang out more, but I didn't want to join. I followed the directions to what seemed to be a stock room below the engineering classrooms.

Upon entering, I was met with fervent kissing.

"Sir, we're at school," I said, worried.

"Nobody can see us," he assured me, and that kind of turned me on. I kissed him back, our bodies pressing against each other, feeling the heat.

It was just a few minutes of passionate kissing.

"Let's meet again tomorrow. Let's go on a date," he said. I just nodded.

"You're so pretty," he said before his lips locked onto mine again. I left first, then him.

Mom and I went out that night to buy books and things. She shopped for clothes for me, especially sweaters. I loved the new selection.

We had dinner at the Azotea Greens café. She loved it.

I got new titles to read: Murakami's "Billowing Women," Ransom Riggs' "Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children," and a book by Dan Brown.

By the way, I saw my grades:

Psych 108: 93

Psych 109: 96

CompSci 1: 93

Philo 1: 95

Econ 1: 93

Hist 22: 95

Bio 9: 93

Engl 7: 94

I enrolled in these subjects:

MWF

Physics 1: 7:30-11:45

Humanities 1: 2:35-4:00

Psych 110: Psychological Assessment: 4:00-8:10

TTHS

Social Science: Society and Family Planning: 11:45-1:10

Psych 111: Social Psychology: 1:10-2:35

Chem 103: Biological Chemistry: 4:00-8:10

Mansoor will be my classmate only in Psych Assessment.

Tuesday

I received two morning texts:

From Mansoor: Good morning, baby. :)) From Sir Apollo: Good morning. Sorry, but let's cancel today. Tomorrow instead.

In the afternoon, I was walking down Session Road with Hollmae after buying new headphones. I bumped into Apollo. We stopped, and I saw he had a young child with him, probably 3 to 5 years old. He just stared at me, and Hollmae and I crossed the street to avoid him.

The kid looked just like him. We were supposed to meet today.

I decided to search for more information about him. There wasn't much, but I found another account he was frequently tagged on. As I dug deeper, I found a photo of him last year hugging three children, tagged by a woman sharing his last name.

At the city library, I found a master's dissertation he published. In the acknowledgments, there was a note: "The researcher would like to thank his wife and their two kids."

My heart was about to explode. I was so angry. But I had cheated too. We were just the same scum.

I felt a bit relieved. The relationship hadn't gone deeper. I went out with Mansoor instead, tagging along with his friends at a pizza house.

Sir Apollo kept texting me. I told him that I couldn't see him anymore.

He called, asking to meet. I said no.

"This was a mistake," I said.

"Yung nakita mo kanina, anak ko siya. I'm already married," he confessed.

I scoffed, "Of course you are."

"Pero hindi kami okay ng asawa ko. Ikaw ang gusto ko," he said over the line, pleading for us not to stop.

"I have a boyfriend, actually. I was planning to tell you."

"I know, and I didn't care," he breathed over the line.

"Let's just end this. I thought I wanted you, but I was wrong."

I ended the call and broke my SIM card. I cried a bit. I'm such a foolish girl.

I practiced my violin instead and asked Paolo about gym recommendations.

I also searched for Spanish tutors online and joined a one-on-one Spanish class. It'll be twice a week in the mornings on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'll go to the gym on Saturdays and Sundays. I won't do Aikido for now.

I think I'm going to tire myself out. It felt like a bad heartbreak while still being in a relationship. I blocked Apollo's account and freely uploaded my photos with Mansoor.

Wednesday

I told my mom I had a boyfriend, but it's not so serious. They want to meet him, but I said it's still too early. I told Mom not to worry, but she really wanted to meet him.

I walked into a gym where Paolo was, and he trained me a bit. My goal was to make myself leaner.

I learned fitness tips from him.

Dad told me to learn driving every Sunday, so he contacted Manong Marvin to teach me.

"Are you buying me a car?" I asked.

"Yes. It's supposed to be your graduation gift, but maybe now is better." I was spinning in excitement.

Thursday

My brother-in-law, Marvin, was at the house. He got me started by showing me the car parts, explaining the difference between manual and automatic, and what to check. He was like a real teacher, very serious, so I had to buckle up.

I met up with Mansoor, and we went to the cinema to watch an American movie.

Friday

In the morning, after my jog, I continued driving lessons. Marvin taught me how to read the gas meter, start the car, and then we moved it. It was exhilarating.

We spent the whole day at an empty park in Tuba.

It was tiring.

Saturday

Another full day of learning to drive. I practiced driving straight and, since I was getting the hang of it, my brother taught me how to turn. It was slow but gentle.

Sunday

More practice again. He said I need to have theoretical driving lessons. I agreed to do that after this term.

So, we will meet every Sunday afternoon until I get it right.

[the-mortifying-ordeal-of]

I feel mostly fine when I'm not around him, but I miss him and was looking forward to see him tonight but but was also very anxious about how it would go because he never brought it up beforehand, and we'd been casuallyish texting.

Long story short, I asked him to walk me to my car so we could have privacy and I asked hug or no hug. He said hugs are a shortcut and that he doesn't feel safe around me.

He essentially walked away, I waited in my car a few minutes in case he wanted to say a proper goodbye after a cool-off, he went into the house, I drove off, sobbed the whole way home.

Full disclosure, because sometimes I think I forget how deep I get: thought about wrecking my car multiple times, felt very hopeless and overwhelmed and found myself chant-crying how much I want to die. It's hard that the person who knows me the best, doesn't trust me. I feel evil, bad, doomed, narcissistic, manipulative, wrong. I shouldn't hear that he feels unsafe and immediately make it about my feelings. But I've spent years and years trying to be better so he'd feel better and he doesn't so I must not be.

My best friend sent me a video today just about how happy she is and I immediately wanted to cancel my plans with her. I can't access compersion, I want people to want to talk to me about how fucking miserable this separation is, and I want someone to either tell me I'm bad, he's bad, or that there is a clear solution that needs to be followed in a certain order and with achievable results in a set timeframe. The ambiguity is killing me.

I found myself wanting to call a hotline, just to hear someone say they get it. That wanting to die, in the face of unrelenting failure, is not an unreasonable emotional reaction. I'm obviously not actively suicidal, I'm not going to hurt myself, but hopelessness and overwhelm are pretty fuckin easy to access right now. I feel like a burden, like no one in my circle gets me, and the one person who does get me, doesn't trust or want me. Fuck am I supposed to do with that.

This wasn't supposed to be a long post, just a reminder to my future self that I am still occasionally suicidal in 2022 and I should probably stop charming my therapist and tell her what I'm like. I feel like I'm passing or code switching and no one gets how fucked up I am. Except him, and maybe Wilson. Wilson likes me and I respect her. Maybe I'm not total trash. But this phase of my life does suck and I am adding seven arrows. Definitely going to my AlAnon meeting tomorrow night. I am not well.

[sparklingchim]

long way home 05 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 1.1k

rating: pg

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

warnings: making out, poor girl oc hears them making out

summary: the one where you think calling jungkook will make you stop missing him but it actually worsens the ache in your heart.

a/n: a little flashback cos...i love flashbacks

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08| 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

[2 years ago]

"Are you crying?"

Your brows draw together at the sound of sniffling when Jungkook picked up the phone.

"No, I just cut onions and haven't recovered from that yet."

You roll your eyes. "What the hell made you cook? The kitchen is a dangerous zone for you. You should get out of there."

"Sora and I have date night today and I volunteered to cook. And, by the way, so far everything went smoothly so keep your hate to yourself."

Of course the only time Jungkook is cooking it's for a date night with Sora.

" 'm not hating, just concerned for your well-being." You lean against your couch, staring up at the ceiling. "What are you cooking?"

"Sora's favourite dish," he mumbles distractedly, a loud fizzing noise rings in the background.

Very enlightening, you think. Of course you know what Sora's favourite dish is, why not?

"So why did you call?"

You sigh, averting your gaze to the commercial that plays on the television.

"Just to check in and see if you're alive. I haven't seen you for like, a week?"

This is actually concerning, as you're used to seeing him everyday. You noticed how he cancelled your meet ups more often up till the point where you hadn't seen each other for a week straight. You had stopped asking too - one, because you have a boyfriend with whom you can spend your time and two, because having Jungkook constantly cancel your plans doesn't go unaffected.

"Has it been that long already?"

"Yeah, now tell me, what have you been up to." You twirl a strand of hair between your fingers, waiting for his answer.

"Just...I've been busy," he explains.

"Busy burning down the kitchen?"

"Hey, that hasn't happened yet. I'm actually a good chef, believe it or not."

You don't because you still remember that one time when Jungkook almost set the kitchen on fire because of some popcorn he wanted to make.

"So busy that you can't stop by at the coffee shop for your morning coffee?" you inquire.

"Well...Sora thinks the cute coffee shop around the corner tastes better so she insists on going there every morning."

You gasp, feigning shock. "You're getting your coffee from the competitors?!"

"It's not my fault! She swears it tastes a hundred times better there so I'll just go with it."

You're not surprised that Sora has a weird taste.

"You're a traitor," you huff.

"Though I have to admit that their cookies doesn't taste as good as your cookies," Jungkook says.

"We have the best in town," you claim. "But hey, I really miss seeing you in the mornings tho. You know how sad I feel every time I have to buy a cookie for myself?"

Jungkook chuckles. "You want me to stop by tomorrow? I'll buy you a cookie for everyday I wasn't there."

"Deal." After pondering about his offer you say, "Actually, don't. I don't want to end up with my tummy hurting again."

"I mean, you could also just not eat them all at once, but okay, then I'll just buy one."

You hear Jungkook walking around, he probably put the phone on the counter and on speaker. You missed talking to him so much.

You part your lips to say something, but get cut off by someone else speaking.

"Jungkook, baby, how much longer will it take?" It's Sora's voice.

"Babe, I told you not to enter the kitchen! It's supposed to be a surprise."

"But Kookie, I'm hungry."

You almost roll your eyes. She has never used that nickname before but after hearing you call him that she suddenly couldn't go five minutes without calling him Kookie.

"Fifteen minutes and then I'm done here, okay?"

"Give me a kiss?" You hear light steps coming closer. And then you hear Jungkook and Sora kiss but it doesn't just end at that. You hear their mouths languidly moving against each other, how the kiss turns into a sloppy make out session and how little sighs fill the room.

Your heart drops and you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming an insult into your phone to remind Jungkook that you're still there.

"B-babe," you hear Jungkook muttering and Sora giggling against his mouth.

The kissing sounds stop. "Who were you talking with, by the way?"

"Y/n called. I'm actually on the phone with her," he answers quietly, but his phone still picks it up just like it picked up all the other noises.

"Oh, I- I didn't know. Oops."

"It's fine."

No it's not fine, you want to say.

A few seconds later it's silent. You only hear the food bubbling and fizzing.

Jungkook clears his throat. "Y/n?"

"I'm still here."

"Sora came in and - did you hear something?"

"No just...you talked and then it went silent," you lie.

"Okay, good. So about - "

"Gguk, I think I gotta hang up. Minjun and I wanted to have a movie night so...you know. Gotta prepare some snacks."

"Oh okay...Have fun you two!"

"Thanks, uh, you two as well. I hope you didn't mess up the food."

"You could have a dish by Gordon Ramsay next to mine and you wouldn't be able to tell which is his."

You giggle, though it's sounds a bit strained to your ears. "I hope this will also apply to the taste of it."

"You're underestimating me, baby." You can hear the grin plastered on his face as the words leave his mouth. You have to gulp because - baby. You shouldn't be feeling tingles down your spine at a nickname he has called you his whole life with. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Bye!"

As soon as you hang up you throw your head back on the couch. You feel...empty. Which is not how you thought you'd be feeling after hearing Jungkook's voice after a week again. You didn't stop missing him either. At least he's visiting the coffee shop tomorrow morning.

"Y/n," Minjun says behind you.

You jump, not expecting him in the living room. He was taking a shower and you didn't hear how he turned off the water.

"Who were you talking with?" he asks, walking to you to sit next to you, his hair still wet.

"Just...Seulgi," you lie. Minjun is a little jealous of your close friendship with Jungkook and because you don't want to put up with his annoying mood that he gets into when he's jealous, you decide that you're better off with lying.

He throws an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. He smells nice.

"Did you pick out a movie yet?"

"You can pick one out. Lemme get us some snacks first." You peck his cheek and want to stand up but he grabs your wrist, turning your head to him to give you a proper kiss on the lips.

It's a kiss. With your boyfriend. And yet you don't feel nearly as many tingles running down your spine as when Jungkook called you a stupid little nickname that has no deep meaning whatsoever.

[judebellswife]

Dad Mason or Declan please 🤗🤗 if Ines not the dad, then his the uncle 🤩🤩

POOH BEAR — Declan Rice

summary: when y/n and declan both kept their pregnancy in private and after giving birth, they decided to share their son’s daily activities on social media (p/s: y/n is mason younger sister)

warning: english is not my first language

declanrice ✓

Liked by judebellingham and 891.310 others

declanrice I know it’s a bit late to announce this news but my lovely fiancé y/n had gave birth to a healthy little boy, he’s 6 months old and his name is Bear Ewan Rice 🐻

View all comments

jeffrey_99 Welcome to this world baby Bear

hheq 🐻 hii

y/username hii my baby bear

masonmount ✓ I can't believe that my little sister and my best friend now have a baby together

declanrice ✓ You have to now 😏

benchilwell ✓ Baby Bear is here

judebellingham ✓ You are so lucky mate

declanrice ✓ Yea, SO SO SO LUCKY

england ✓ Congratulations @y/username & @declanrice!!

y/username Thank you 🙏🏻

y/username

Liked by masonmount, jazbenham and 44.210 others

y/username My name is Bear, but mummy love Pooh bear so mummy and daddy use to call me Pooh 😁

View all 681 comments

declanrice ✓ My son 🥺

y/username He miss you already dec

declanrice ✓ Oh no my baby 🥺🥺

y/username And i miss you too

declanrice ✓ I’m gonna leave everything and came home to you

herruow Awww

bellahadid ✓ Do you have any plan tomorrow?

y/username Yea we have plan tomorrow 🥺 why?

bellahadid ✓ Nothing, just miss you y/n

y/username What?! haha 😂😂

trww Look at his feed

declanrice ✓

841.051 likes

declanrice Morning with my two sunshine ☀️

View all comments

masonmount ✓ You and your wife and Bear hurry up, everyone is waiting 🐸

lukeshaw23 ✓ I can’t wait to meet Bear

benchilwell ✓ I'm busy today so I can't go out with everyone and Bear 😞😞

y/username Uh oh Bear is missing you too uncle Ben

declanrice ✓

Liked by y/username and others

declanrice It was a fateful day the day i met y/n, even though she's Mason's little sister, I've never talked to her, but y/n made me happiest man than ever and now thinking back if i had canceled that interview then maybe I wouldn't have married her and maybe Bear wouldn't have appeared either in my life. How lucky i am

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erlkwe You’re so FUCKING handsome 🤌

slow_bit_by I wanna see your son face declan

declanrice ✓ Sadly that we decided not to show pictures of our son's face on social media, you know.. for privacy

declan_rice is there anyone here like me, i really adore y/n but i like to see Declan with h/ex/n more..

georginahelias i think y/n is the 3rd person, stealing someone else's lover

y/bff/n I wasn't supposed to say anything but I saw you guys commenting and talking about my best friend and her husband so I'll make it clear, looks like you haven't heard of Declan and h/ex/n broke up 2 years ago when y/n dated Declan and by the way, h/ex/n was really the one who cheated on Declan and only dated Declan for his money. Is it all clear now? 🙂

declanrice ✓ First of all, my wife is not the one who interfered in the love affair between me and my ex-girlfriend. It was me who realized that the love between me and h/ex/n was no longer the same, more specifically, i realized that she loved me not only for money but also for many other things (not in a healthy ways). Second, i started to realize my feelings for y/n was when I first met y/n 2 years after I broke up with h/ex/n… I never really wanted to talk about it on social media often to people we don't know, but the way you leave a comment about my wife like this, i’m really disappointed in you as a Declan Rice fan. I hope this is the first and also the last time I bring this up. I also hope you don't judge other people's private lives without really knowing it. Especially saying things that are not true about my wife as well as me and our families. Thank you! @declan_rice @georginahelias

y/username Awww thank you baby 🥺

declanrice ✓ y/n, you don't deserve this

weyygew Please read everything carefully before commenting 🙂🙂

y/username

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y/username Who is this???????

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hoskelsw Its Declan 🍚

y/username 🍚😂

nathanwood_ Y/n we miss Bear

y/username You guys don’t miss me??

jazbenham How was Bear? Is he cry alot??

y/username Nope he’a totally fine

jazbenham Phewww

benham_7 You and Rice make such a cute baby

y/username Haha 😆

ricedayandnight Declan so good looking, urghhh

theeeqob 😍😍😍

declanrice ✓

Liked by y/username and 1.008.921 likes

declanrice Oops someone tired already 🥺🥺

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masonmount ✓ GUYS I’M BEAR EWAN RICE GODFATHER 😀😀😀😀

maceymason @hallofreddin Ahhhhh

freddenhwq Congratz @masonmount

sonnyperkins ✓ 😍😍

ricefan I see his face 😯

y/username Yea he having so much fun today

declanrice While Bear is sleeping, shouldn't we spend some time alone? 😎

y/username 😆 We shoulddd!!!!

y/username

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y/username He seems to have a hunch, so he woke up just as we were getting ready to go out for a romantic dinner.. but Bear is awake 😜

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declanrice ✓ So funny, when he woke up, he saw me he wasn't crying until he saw you 😂

iloverice The outfit 🥺 So adorable

joeyrewwini I'm so curious about some cute stories between you and Declan when you both start to date

uswithracgel Yea yea, do you mind tell us

tashlataaylor I wanted to know too

masonmount ✓ Me me me i wanna hear

y/username 🙄 Speaking of cute, sweet things he did for me, while i was dating Declan he did quite a lot of sweet things for me, I clearly remember that day we had a small arguments. I accidently yelled at him, but in the end he didn't get mad and he also cooked me a dinner… And he said to me “I know you're upset, so every time you feel that way, i will accept everything just to make you happy and i love you” and there’s time when we celebrate our 3 years anniversary, he ask me to have kids with him then i ask him “How many kids do you want with me in the future?”, he said “I personally want 6 kids with you and only you..”. That’s it

declanrice ✓ It’s time for us to make baby number 2

y/username Isn’t it too soon 😂😂

declanrice ✓

Liked by h/mom/n, harrywinks and 901.522 others

declanrice Daddy Bear, Mommy Bear & Baby Bear… Welcome to the BEAR FAMILY!! Grrgg 🐻

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h/mom/n The caption is so cute 😂 Nanna Bear is here too 😂

y/username Ello there Nanny Bear

h/dad/n Oh ello there Nanny Bear, i’m Gramps Bear 🤜🤛

y/username So funny 😂😂

masonmount ✓ Gosh you’re such a big fan of Pooh Bear 🙂 Don't tell me my next niece/nephew name is Pooh?

declanrice ✓ She is gonna name our next child Pooh 🥲 but idk if ‘Pooh’ is its first or middle name…

masonmount ✓ Do anything to make her change her mind, plzz

benchilwell ✓ I mean Pooh is kinda cute

y/username Yea, only @benchilwell know me best

joeyrhejoejoe 😍😍😍😍

y/username (IG story)

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day Something: The

Hey friends. I've been struggling with writers block a little bit lately, the muse is flighty and I'm out of the routine of writing because I've been so busy. So I'm just filling a prompt that kindled a little fire. Sorry that it's out of order! I don't think this one is even on the list yet (sorry for that too, nonnie!)

"You've got the Banquet for the War Orphans coming up on Sunday, the meeting with the board of trustees for the Lycanthropy Research Foundation tomorrow, the Minister booked an appointment with you today at 4:00, we-"

"Matilda," Harry interrupted, "Could you put them into the Google calendar?"

"They're already on it, Sir," she said.

He rubbed his forehead, "Harry," he corrected.

"Yes, sir."

Harry blew out a sigh, “just tell me what’s coming up in the next two hours.”

She rattled off a few things; a meeting with shareholders, meet and greet for funding a new wing of the hospital, lunch with the board.

"Right," he said, "Cancel my next two hours of things."

"But, sir-"

"Harry," he all but growled. "Reschedule the lunch meeting with the board; send Amanda with a report for the shareholders, they like her anyway; and send Anthony with a personal check for 10,000 galleons to the hospital opening."

"But Sir-"

"Harry," he corrected again before shaking his head. "I'm going. I'll be back in two hours." Without waiting for a reply, he apparated straight out of his office and into a very different office within the Ministry.

(Keep reading below the cut)

"You're not supposed to do that, you know," Draco drawled, not even bothering to look up from what he was working on.

"I know," he murmured, sidling up behind him and wrapping his arms around Draco's waist.

Draco continued the work he was performing, "What if I'd had someone else in here?"

"How many other secret lovers do you have?" Harry tried to tease but it didn't come out as much like a joke as he'd intended.

The other man huffed, "I do have people who consult with me at work, for our work, on occasion."

He didn't respond, couldn't respond, because he hadn't thought about it, had only thought about needing to see him, needing to not be the savior, the boss, the Harry Potter.

"Harry," Draco sighed, casting a stasis spell on whatever he'd been working on before warding the door. He turned and Harry pressed his face into Draco's neck, inhaling him. "I know," he murmured.

"How much longer?" he whispered into Draco's skin.

He huffed a laugh, "How much more do you want to accomplish with your money?"

Harry groaned, that was just it, wasn't it? He kept investing in the things he felt were important, people joined in investing because he was the Harry Potter, and his assets only continued to grow. Which, in theory wasn't a problem, but in practice meant that he had too many board meetings to attend with people who acted like he shit gold bricks.

"Oh, love," the other man murmured.

"I just," he huffed, "I needed to be me for a little while."

"What if you were you at work?" he offered, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead.

He laughed humorlessly, "How can I be? I can't even get my own bloody personal assistant to call me Harry."

"Fire her," he said simply.

"Right," he said, drawing back and rubbing his hands over his face, "Because that's the image that I want to be associated with my foundation, someone who fires people for trying to be respectful."

Draco shrugged unrepentantly, "Being you at work isn't easy."

He frowned, "Draco, this foundation got where it is because I learned to play my cards right; I learned to bite my tongue and bide my time and now I can help people all over the world."

The other man nodded, "You're right."

"Stop that," he grumbled.

"What? Agreeing with you?"

"Yes."

The corner of Draco's mouth turned up, "I'm just saying, being nice is all well and good, and it will get you where you want to go. Working the room, playing the game, it's very effective but there's a reason I didn't go into politics and a reason that I am an unspeakable who works alone most of the time."

"I'm not in politics," he said.

"No?" he asked.

Harry groaned, "This isn't helping."

"I'm sorry," he replied, but he didn't sound particularly sorry. "Living a double life is difficult."

"I'm not living a double life," Harry protested.

"You've got a job where you never say what you really think and feel, you go to all sorts of functions and play the role they want you to fill. Then when you want to visit your boyfriend at work you have to tear through the bloody wards around the Ministry because people can't know that I exist."

"Wait-"

"You have a house that people know about that you floo to every morning so people can see you leaving from it, even though you spend every night in my flat and my bed."

"But that's for you-"

He shook his head, "Don't pretend that this is for me."

"The press-"

"Would look really bad for you," he said.

"No!" he snapped, "The press would fucking hound you. They'd tear you to shreds."

"Gee, I wonder what that must be like," he said, "because they don't already do that," he added sarcastically.

"I-"

"And don't pretend that everything you're doing now isn't about you either," he continued.

"I don't want kids to go through what I did, is that so wrong?"

"I'm just saying Harry," he said, shaking his head, "If you don't want people to see you as a martyr, stop playing one."

He took a step back like he'd been slapped. "Wow," he said.

Draco folded his arms over his chest.

"How long have you been holding onto that one?" he asked.

The other man shook his head, "This isn't about me."

"Right," Harry said, "because you're the one that's got this all figured out. I'm the broken one."

"Your words, not mine," he replied tightly.

He nodded, "Right, then. I'll just see myself out, shall I?"

"Harry-"

"Don't," he spit. "I get it."

"Harry-"

But he didn't wait to hear how that sentence ended, didn't want to stick around to hear the apology because he wasn't ready to forgive him anyway. He popped back up in his office and checked the calendar. He'd missed most of the shareholder meeting but ought to be able to make it to the hospital wing meet and greet.

------------------

Harry normally would have apparated straight into Draco's flat. After a day like today, he was liable to apparate straight into Draco's bed.

But their argument had stayed bright and hot at the forefront of his mind, and like a bruise that you just couldn't help poking, Harry hadn't been able to stop replaying the conversation.

And no matter how he turned it around in his head, Draco was right. Or justified in feeling that way at the very least.

Instead of doing what he'd normally do, Harry stopped off at the little flower shop a few blocks from Draco's flat and told the girl working that he needed a bouquet that said 'sorry for being an arse.'

She laughed but set to work, making a bouquet with white tulips and daffodils with a few blue hyacinths to finish.

He walked the remaining blocks to Draco's flat and practiced the apology he'd been working on all day as he approached. Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

It swung open a moment later and Draco startled when he saw him, "Harry," he said, glancing around at the street behind him.

"I'm sorry for being such a fucking arse," he said.

"Come inside," Draco said, tugging at his arm.

He shook his head, "I don't care who sees-"

"Come inside, you absolute menace."

Harry huffed and allowed Draco to drag him in and close the door behind him.

"I don't need you to apologize," he said, "I overstepped. We're not-"

"Marry me," Harry said, pressing the flowers into his hands before dropping to his knees and pulling out a ring box that contained his mother's engagement ring, redesigned so that the diamond twisted around the band.

"Harry, what?" he asked incredulously, setting the flowers behind him on the table and closing the ring box that he was holding out. "You're being insane."

"I'm not," he replied. "You can choose, we can tell everyone or I can tell them to piss off, but-" he broke off and shook his head. "I’m me when I’m with you. It's the only time that I'm not calculating and trying to decide what the best move is."

"That's fine," Draco said, kneeling in front of Harry and cupping his face. "This is fine."

"I," he swallowed and looked down at the box in his hand, "I want to marry you," he said. "I want the ring on my finger, the tangible reminder of who I am when I start forgetting. Draco," he said, cupping his cheek, "I love you. I'm sorry I've hurt you by keeping you a secret. I've been selfish-"

"Harry," he said, kissing him softly, stopping his flow of words. "It's okay. You-"

"I'm not done yet," he said softly. "I'm not done investing in things, trying to do good, and trying to repair the things that are broken."

"That's fine," Draco said. "I'm fine, I'm an unspeakable for Merlin's sake! My entire life is one big secret, I was being a hypocrite-"

"Marry me," he said again. "And we can tell everyone or we can tell no one. Just," he looked down at the ring box, opening it once more, "be my husband. Let me tether myself to you. Let it be a promise that no matter what, I am always thinking of you. I am always wishing that you were by my side."

"Harry," he whispered, eyes filled with tears.

"Say yes," he pleaded. "We can elope or we can have a huge ceremony that we invite the entire wizarding world to," he nudged his nose against Draco's and leaned their foreheads together. "This is the best thing in my life," he said. "And I've treated it like I was ashamed of it, like I'm ashamed of you. And I'm not, Draco."

"I know," he murmured, his hands sliding up and down Harry's neck. "I know, love."

"Marry me?" he asked again, his hands trembling as he held out the ring.

Draco sobbed and pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek, "I didn't mean to guilt you-"

"Draco," he said, pleading, "Sweetheart, please say yes."

"Yes, of course yes," he said, hiccuping around his tears, "Of course I'm yours but only if this isn't out of guilt."

"It's not," Harry promised, pulling back far enough that he could slip the ring onto Draco's finger. "I love you," he said, wrapping his arms around Draco's back and holding him.

Draco's arms wrapped around his neck and he held him back just as tightly. "I love you, too," he whispered. "You're not broken," he added.

"I am," Harry said honestly. "And that's okay," he added.

"We're all broken," Draco replied.

Harry leaned back and kissed him, "I want to be better. Please," he said, brushing his nose over Draco's, "tell me when the things I'm doing hurt you."

"This floor is certainly hurting my knees," Draco teased wetly.

He huffed a laugh and stood, pulling Draco with him. "I mean it."

"Okay," he said, combing his fingers through Harry's hair. "Move in with me?"

Harry nodded, heart flipping in his chest. "Yes."

"We could find a bigger place," he offered, looking around the tiny flat.

He shrugged and replied, "I'm happy to be anywhere, as long as I’m there with you."

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Day 170: Geotaxis | Day 171: Tacent