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getitinbusan · 4 years ago

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Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Y/N doesn’t want a relationship, especially not with an idol. Jaebeom only wants her. Love after heartbreak and all the things that fall in between. Angst, Cheating, Fluff, Smut. Inspired by lyrics, the bold lettering indicates music or lyrics that can be found in the accompanying serendipitous universe playlist.

The only reason to go to the club was to pick up, but when everyone knew who you were, it was just a dumb idea.

Yugyeom and Bam Bam however, were all about dumb ideas.

He hated this scene, didn’t like attention, didn’t like the sloppy drunks and especially didn’t like girls who threw themselves at him.

He wasn’t sure how exactly they’d talked him into coming here tonight. Sitting at the bar, head down he let his phone distract him until the inevitable happened.

Waiting for your drink you watched the scene play out.

“I can’t believe you haven’t bought me a drink yet.” She slithered over to him.

“Why would I do that?” He answered barely looking up.

“It’s the least you could give me in return for all things I’m going to do to you tonight.”

“The only thing you’re going to do that makes me happy tonight is walk away."

A laugh escaped from your mouth and she turned to eye you up and down.

Ignoring him she leaned in closer inserting her hand between his legs. "Listen, you’re not my type, my dick’s not interested.”

Picking his drink up off the bar she threw it in his face, “Your fucking loss.”

“I think you upset her a little,” you laughed handing him a napkin.

“Good luck when she drops this as a Dispatch scandal tomorrow.”

The bartender handed you your drink and you started to walk away.

“Wait,” he stood up and offered his hand, “I’m…”

“Lim Jaebeom,” you cut him off leaving his hand outstretched in limbo.

“You know who I am?”

“I do, and while it was nice to meet you Jaebeom, my dick’s not interested.”

“Wow, that’s just” he grinned…“using my own words against me. I mean… just because you’ve heard of me doesn’t mean you know me.” He was joking, you weren’t.

“I know there’s nothing about your lifestyle I want to be a part of,” you said walking back towards him.

“I know that you’re on tour about 300 days out of the year and the other 65 you’re stuck practicing.”

You got closer, “I know your fans are fucking crazy and they’ll destroy every personal relationship you try to have.”

Closer , "I know that however committed you intend on being, the road gets lonely and you’ve got a whole PR team to cover it up.”

As close as you could be, right in his ear, “Above all, I know that you’re too beautiful and too rich for your own good.”

Backing away, “Did I miss anything?"

Raising his eyebrow he was intrigued at what had you so bitter, "Can I buy you a drink?”

You smirked before walking away, “Already bought my own, thanks though.”

He’d never had a girl so adamantly deny him and he couldn’t get his mind off of you. Picking up his drink he set off to find the two idiots responsible for bringing him here.

There they were, and there you were about 20 feet away. You looked up and made eye contact, smiling before turning your attention back to your friends.

Bam Bam was quick to notice, “Oh, JB!! Say it’s not so, I think he’s got his eye on someone Yugyeom."

Following their glances Yugyeom saw you. "Uh-Uh get that idea out of your head right now, she’s damaged goods."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jaebeom asked.

“It means,” he pulled up his phone and showed it to JB, “That is Min Yoongi’s ex."

He took the phone out of Yugyeom’s hand, he remembered seeing these gossip articles a few months ago. Min Yoongi caught in a cheating scandal, secret relationship revealed!

He didn’t want this. He certainly wasn’t looking for a girlfriend but there you were.

The back story…

They were on to you.

The photographers lurked in corners, cars followed, you could feel their shadows hanging over you wherever you went.

This lifestyle was bullshit. Why the hell did you have to hide? It wasn’t normal to live like this.

As angry as it made you, you still played along. Year two, fuck you loved him. He was like an addiction, bad for you but you needed him.

So here you were, circling the block sneaking into your boyfriend’s house like a teenager trying not to get caught.

It had been the ultimate shit day and it was only 10am. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, you were late for work, got yelled at, quit, stopped for coffee, spilled it all over yourself, cried in the car and now you were dodging the paps just so you could do the one thing that would make you feel better, hug your boyfriend.

Fuck it, they weren’t letting up, let the chips fall where they may.

Parking on the road you walked to the house as quickly as you could and let yourself in.

Still crying, you closed the door behind you stopping to take a breath and re group. How the hell were you going to explain to Yoongi that you’d just outed your relationship?

Trying to pull your disheveled, tear soaked, coffee stained self together you made the trek to his downstairs studio.

Knocking lightly there was no answer, maybe he had his headphones on. Empty, the usual hub of activity was dark and quiet.

Lately he’d been distant. You thought he was just overworked and stressed. How were you so blind to not realize he must be sinking back into his anxiety.

Making your way upstairs to the bedroom, he was most likely still asleep.

Opening the door, his blackout curtains kept the room shrouded in darkness. You could hear the soothing sound of waves flowing from the white noise machine you’d bought him for Christmas.

Finally, something that made you smile. You would spend the rest of the day curled up beside him forgetting anything existed outside these walls.

Walking towards the bed your feet caught on something, clothes?

Yoongi was meticulous with his clothing, it wasn’t like him to just leave things lying around.

Your heart began racing, it always knew before your brain clued in that something was off.

Lifting the edge of the covers, you now knew why. Laying naked, curled up together, he clearly hadn’t been having a depression nap.

Flicking the lights on you stood waiting for recognition to kick in. He sat up rubbing his eyes, looking beside him he realized she was still in the bed and it was you standing in the doorway.

That was enough, you turned the light back off and left. There was no crying, he wasn’t worth the tears.

Opening the door, it was as if the paparazzi had multiplied, cameras snapping you, clearly distraught, while he followed in pursuit.

What was the expression? Not with a fizzle but with a bang? You’d hidden for two years but now you were finished, everyone was going to know what he’d done.

“I’ve wasted two god damn years on you Min Yoongi, I hope you get a fucking STD from your new slut"

That was that, your whole life spread over the Dispatch gossip page before lunch.

No boyfriend, no job, your life had completely changed over the course of an hour.

It had been four days and you were still on his mind. He couldn’t figure it out; it’s not like you’d even given him a flicker of hope.

“Fuck,” he said aloud as his fingers sent the text.

JB: You’ve got to find out about Y/N for me. I can’t stop thinking about her.

Yug: Why her JB? She’s 100% negative press. Name somebody, anybody else and I’ll hook it up.

JB: I never ask you for anything. Can’t you just fucking call Jungkook and get me her details

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

Yug: She owns a small bookstore in Ikseon-dong called Serendipity. Listen, Jungkook wasn’t happy about you asking. He said she’s been through enough, and you’d better not fuck her over.

JB: Thanks, I owe you one.

Yug: I hope this doesn’t bite you in the ass.

A bookstore, he grinned, well that was just fate or…serendipity. He could just pretend running into you was a coincidence, everybody knew he loved books.

He pulled it up on Google.

Serendipity, a Bookstore/Cafe located in the heart of Ikseon. A charming Old Hanok hidden amongst the Dongs tiny alleyways

While he scribbled down the address, the reviews caught his eye.

⭐ I don’t know who this whore thinks she is, but I hope her store goes out of business.

⭐ This store is trash just like the owner.

⭐ Stupid bitch deserved to get dumped. I can’t believe Yoongi would find her attractive.

⭐ Poverty ass gold digger. You’d better stay away from our boys.

His heart broke for you, he knew fans could be possessive, but these were just cruel. What terrible things for you to have to read, and for what? False ownership of their idol

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

Opening the door, the smell of coffee and books filtered through his nostrils, if he could create his own signature fragrance, this would be it. His eyes scanned the shop until he found you, glasses on sitting behind a computer screen at the checkout.

Browsing around he’d glance up every now and again taking you in. He noted how comfortable you looked in your own environment. Unlike at the bar your face was relaxed, soft, even more beautiful than he remembered.

You smiled at the customer you were serving, and he knew he was a goner.

He went back to perusing the shelves, his heart was beating quickly. How was he going to approach you?

“Can I help you find anything,” came from behind him.

He scanned the books quickly, and turned with a smile, “I’m just looking for I Want to Die, But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki.”

You gave no reaction

“Well that’s pretty convenient Jaebeom, because you’re standing right beside it.”

Starting to walk away he caught your hand, “Hey, come on, I’m just trying to know you.”

“Funny, I think you already know all about me, you found me easily enough.” You pulled your hand away.

“Listen JB, I’m a real career killer and it seems like you’re doing pretty well for yourself. Why would you want this kind of drama?”

He knew the words were going to come out wrong but he was trying to say them before you could leave.

“I feel bad for how you’ve been treated, you deserve better. I think that I could make you better, fuck, not that there’s anything wrong with you.. I mean that we could be better….together, not separate.”

“I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me Jaebeom, last call for the pity party ended a while ago. I’m doing just fine putting myself back together.”

“I’m sorry, I promise I’m not usually like this. I don’t know why I can’t talk to you without sounding like an idiot.”

He sighed deeply, “I’m just…is it okay if I stay? I promise I’ll just have a coffee and read, I really like it here.”

“It’s bad business for me to chase away customers, stay as long as you want ”

You felt kind of bad, maybe you were being to harsh on him. Bringing his coffee to the table you set it down placing a slice of cheesecake next to it. “It’s on me.”

“Thanks,” he smiled shyly.

“Can I ask why you chose Serendipity? It’s kind of a romantic notion for someone who’s so cynical.”

Cocking a brow you asked, “Are you really interested, or is this you hitting on me?”

He laughed, “I’m not going to stop hitting on you, but yeah, I really want to know.”

You walked away and grabbed a book off the shelf. Sitting beside him, you slid it across the table.

“Have you heard of The Three Princes of Serendip?” He shook his head no.

“It’s a fairy tale. The heroes were always discovering things they weren’t in quest of.”

He thumbed through the pages while he listened to your explanation.

“That day a few months ago,” you interrupted yourself, “I’m assuming you know what day I mean?”

He pursed his lips and nodded.

“Well, I quit the job I hated, I lost my boyfriend and the whole world treated me like I’d done something wrong.”

You shrugged, still not understanding how it all happened.

“I was lost, I had nothing but myself and a handful of hush money from Big Hit. I came here to hideout but instead I found this place for sale. If that’s not a Serendipitous string of events, I don’t know what is.”

He smiled and closed the book, “I think I’ll take this one today.”

Pretending to be shocked you questioned him, “What? You didn’t really want I Want to Die, But I Want to Eat Tteokbokki? ”

“I think I’ll leave that one as an excuse to come back.”

His deep chocolate brown eyes were heavy on you, you know because you made the mistake of looking into them.

“This is a public space, you don’t need to make excuses to come.” You tried to sound flippant.

“And JB…I wasn’t always this cynical, life just hasn’t given me a chance to be anything but.”

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

He laid in bed reading, or trying to at least. He’d been over the same sentence about four times unable to stop thinking about you.

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

You were laying in bed when you heard the ping. You knew it was a stupid idea, but after he left you stalked his accounts, and turned on his post notifications.

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

The Vlive began, he wanted to tell everyone about a great book he was reading that he’d found in a cool little shop in Ikseon-dong.

📖 Lady: I’m glad you like it.

Reading your comment he smiled, he really was a beautiful man. You examined his features and expressions but they suddenly changed. He tried to quickly sign off but it was too late.

😭Is he talking about y/n?

😱Are you kidding JB?

🤮I can’t believe he’s going after Yoongi’s sloppy seconds.

He knew he fucked up and he didn’t know what to do about it. He’d finally made some headway and now he was back to square one.

So, the next day he was back. Standing in front of your counter he held out a cup of Hotteok.

Before he could speak you jumped in, “See JB, the way this whole retail thing works is, you pick something you want that I’m selling, then give me money for it. Nowhere in the scenario do you bring me random shit just because.”

Your eyes were red, he felt terrible, after only 2 conversations he’d already managed to hurt you.

“It’s not random shit, it’s an apology. I’m sorry I drew attention to you last night.” he paused, “you don’t deserve to be attacked like that."

You turned away trying to gain your composure, "The one thing I’ve learned through all this is to never apologize for showing your feelings. When you do, you’re apologizing for the truth."

You looked back, "I’ve never apologized for loving Yoongi, because it was real whether people want to believe it or not.”

You sighed, “You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t put the target on my back JB it’s been there a while, I’m just sad because now you’ve got one too."

His heart sank when he realized that you weren’t choosing loneliness to protect yourself, you were keeping your distance so he wouldn’t get dragged into it.

He placed his large hand over yours as it lay on the counter. "There’s only one thing that’s going to make me walk away from you.” He tipped your chin so you were forced to look into his eyes, “Tell me you don’t want me here."

The door chimed, you were no longer alone.

"Like I said yesterday, it’s bad business for me to chase away customers, stay as long as you want.”

He smiled brightly, “That’s not a no."

Taking the Hotteok from the counter you were still unsure, but he was right, it wasn’t a no.

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

Standing at the bar in the exact spot you’d met him, you’d hoped he’d be here tonight. You felt like a desperate fool with a schoolgirl crush.

Three days had passed since you’d last seen him and despite your best efforts, you found yourself missing him. You hated the way your heart hurt, of course he’d given up why would this be a surprise?

A hand reached around placing a drink on the bar in front of you. "You look like you could use this, still pining over Min Yoongi?"

"Actually I’m waiting for a friend Minho."

"I could be your friend tonight Y/N. I guarantee I can get you to stop thinking about him,” he grabbed your ass.

“No thanks, I don’t think 5 minutes in your bed will change my world.”

He grabbed the drink back, “No wonder he cheated on you, you’re such a bitch."

Dumb, Dumb, Dumb…you’d let your guard down and everything was feeling all too personal. Shooting back the last of your Soju you grabbed your jacket and made for the exit.

"You’re not leaving when I just got here?”

Your traitorous heart fluttered, “I didn’t know I was supposed to be waiting."

His grin got bigger, "Are you mad because maybe you actually missed me a little?”

Mad, sad, who could tell them apart anymore?

“Yeah, actually I am and I’m livid with myself for it."

He put his hand on your waist, "Hey, I’m sorry, I got called for re shoots.”

His thumb rubbed over your hip soothingly, “I only have your work number…I just got back and I was hoping you’d be here"

A voice shouted from across the bar "Don’t waste your time on that one JB, come sit with us"

You closed your eyes trying to keep the tears at bay, "You heard the man. I’m leaving anyway, I guess I’ll see ya around.”

Shooting a look at Minho he ran out the door to catch up with you.

Standing at the curb waiting for a cab he reached his hand out to you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to be with me. It’s still early, let’s go somewhere okay, can we still do that?"

Placing your hand in his, "Only if we’re alone…and there’s alcohol.”

He smiled victorious, “I think I know a place."

Walking up the crowded street you felt better, anonymous. He kept squeezing your hand making sure you hadn’t slipped away.

"Right here,” he stopped in front of a pink neon lit Karaoke Bar.

“Karaoke? I think one of us has an extremely unfair advantage JB."

"Don’t worry I’ll let you win."

Stepping closer to him you kissed his cheek, "Why are you being so nice to me JB?"

"Y/N, why do you keep questioning my motives?”

His hand ran up your arm, “I hate that you’ve been mistreated for so long that you don’t realize what normal behavior is.”

He held the door open for you, “How’s a private room and bottle service sound?"

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

You consumed copious amounts of Grey Goose as you took turns performing for one another. What you lacked in vocal talent you made up for in your ability to mimic choreography.

"I think I’ve lost my voice,” you shouted after your efforts to sing Itzy’s Wannabe.

“I’m going to have to tell JYP about you, maybe with some training you can debut next year and come on tour with us,” he laughed.

He queued up the next song, “Come here, I want to dance with you."

You moved into his waiting arms and allowed yourself to surrender to his pursuits. His song came on and you laughed, "it’s so cheesy Jaebeom-ah!"

He sang anyway,

Our love will lead the way for us

If the road ahead is not so easy

Like a guiding star

I’ll be there for you if you should need me

You don’t have to change a thing

I love you just the way you are

You let your head rest on his chest, his heartbeat was louder, more important than the words he was singing.

Glad he was holding you up, you felt a little drunk, a little in love and for once, you weren’t going to stop yourself.

He kissed the top of your head and held on a little tighter, "So does this mean you’ll finally give me your number?”

You looked up at him nodding, locking eyes he moved slowly closer, lips almost touching …until his phone went off.

He frowned, “Fuck, it’s management. Sorry I’ve got to check in. Just stay in my arms ok?"

"You’re going to read texts over my shoulder? How romantic,” you jibed, but you didn’t break away.

JYP: Dispatch has reached out to us for comment regarding a new dating scandal. They were tipped off that you were with Y/N at Cakeshop Night Club tonight and now they are outside of the Karaoke bar waiting for photos. We need to discuss your intentions immediately. A car will pick you up in 15 mins, wait inside for security. Do not leave the building together as it is still controllable speculation.

You could feel his body react to what he was reading, deep breaths, tensed muscles and finally pulling you in tightly. “What is it J?"

"I’ve got to get you out of here, the press are outside"

He handed you his phone, "add your number.”

But JYPs text was still open and you saw every word.

You keyed in your info and switched it off before handing it back.

You breathed deep, “You know, sneaking in and out of buildings is my specialty,” You put your hand over his heart and gave a sad smile.

“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure there’s a back entrance, I’ll just grab a cab home. If you go out the front they’ll be too busy taking photos of you, they’ll never notice me.”

You tried to sound confident and uncaring so he’d do what was best but Jaebeom had his own plan.

“Get your stuff, we’re going out the front together."

He pulled your hand through the bar and out the front door. Lights flashed as they took their photos for tomorrow’s headlines.

Hailing a cab he leaned over and kissed your lips, "I’m going to call you as soon as I can okay?”

You weren’t okay, your first kiss would be your last kiss. Your smile hid the stabbing pain in your heart, you knew it was over before it had started.

“Jaebeom,” you called him back after he closed the car door behind you, “It’s been a really great time.”

He smiled and waved.

Getting into the companies blacked out Suburban he was happy, he was going to stand his ground.

He’d felt bad that your first kiss had been under these circumstances so he opened his phone to text you a quick apology.

Searching the contacts he found your entry, “I’m sorry” with random numbers underneath.

So much for not getting attached. Unlocking the door you collapsed crying, the exhaustion of life had finally beaten you into submission.

The shrill ring of the store’s landline broke through the quiet of the courtyard, a reminder of his persistence. He wasn’t going to give up so you had no other choice but to cut him off.

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

Barely having slept, coffee in hand, you made your way over the wooden path to the store.

The indication light was flashing in a rhythm that brought back the sound of his heartbeat in your ear.

You have one unheard message…

Y/N, I know that you were happy last night, don’t walk away from this…from me. Do you remember the day I first came into your shop? You asked me how I intended to fix you? I didn’t know then, I was just grasping for a shot…but…I know now..I’m just going to love you. All you have to do is let me…can’t you just let me?“

Reaching out you hit delete and tried to convince yourself it was for the best.

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

Watching from your office he’d come in everyday for a week. The staff, as instructed, told him you weren’t there but several times he’d caught you looking at him through the window.

He looked hopeful but you were sure he’d get over it, you’d get over it.

There was a light knock on your door before the handle turned.

"Hey, sorry Y/N, he insisted on leaving this for you.” She placed the book on your desk and left.

Running your hands over the cover you could tell it was well loved.

Its condition would normally drive you nuts but it was his, and in his passionate demeanor he’d most likely tackled it head first, caution less, as was his way.

You were unfamiliar with it, Tablo’s “Pieces of You." Flipping through the marked up pages you found a bookmark, a hand drawn blue tree with flower petal leaves pointing to what he wanted you to see.

"So here I am,

Choosing to kick away the ladder

So that I may remain at your side.

I understand your solitude

I see your shadow.”

His phone number was scribbled on the inside cover with the inscription. “When you’re ready, whether it’s tomorrow or two years from now."

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

The worn book sat on your desk catching your eye every so often. He hadn’t been in for a few days, had he given up? Why did it hurt to think maybe you’d never see him again?

"Fuck,” you opened the cover And picked up your phone.

Y/N: I miss you and I don’t want to do that anymore.

JB: You don’t have to, just let me in.

Y/N: I need some time.

JB: I’m just….Y/N…don’t shut me out okay?

He left you space as requested ….sort of.

Every night you got notifications of his v lives. He talked to you indirectly through the camera, speaking about the books he’d read while sending secret messages through his song choices playing in the background.

He looked happy and he never wavered when your name was brought up by the fans. He stood up for you, called you a friend and told people they shouldn’t say such horrible things.

Slowly he was breaking your resolve, you were healing.

📖 Lady: I really enjoyed Pieces of You.

He smiled knowing you were online. He queued up his next track, it was Junny’s By my side and he sang…

stay right by my side

And let me teach you how to love

With you I just can’t get enough, oh girl

He closed his eyes and hummed in contentment.

Your phone notification broke the trance Jaebeom’s sweet melody had lulled you into.

Yoongi: Can we meet, I think we should talk.

Y/N: I don’t fucking think so.

Yoongi: it’s about Jaebeom.

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

You got to the coffee shop early and were surprised he was already there, punctuality was never his strong suit.

He stood to greet you. Thinking better of the hug he was going for, he gestured to the chair.

“I want to say I’m sorry”…he stammered over his words.

“I know it means nothing and you hate me but…I am…sorry.”

He remembered your order and it was already on the table.

“Can we just cut the shit. Why exactly do you want to talk to me about Jaebeom?”

He ran his hand up the back of his neck, “I keep getting messages from the fans about you two.”

“You know what Yoongi, I’m tired of your fucking fans. They’ve sent me hundreds of death threats, they write rude comments on my business page and now that someone actually likes me again they keep telling him that I’m a piece of shit."

You spit the feelings that had been trapped inside you out at him.

"You know you could have told them to stop, but you didn’t.”

He looked at you puzzled and pulled up his weverse page.

“You think it’s only you?”

He scrolled through reading you select comments.

“I’ve lost all respect for you Yoongi… I can’t believe you’re a cheater. Here, this one’s great……..Y/N deserves better, I’m happy she’s with JB now…"

You were shocked, not once had you seen or received messages that were team Y/N.

"Well you fucking deserve it."

He shrugged, "Jaebeom, he’s a decent guy…Jungkook’s been talking to Yugyeom and word is you’re not giving him a chance because of what happened.”

He wouldn’t look up from his Americano.

“Don’t let me fuck up your life any more than I already have okay, I’m not worth it."

You sighed, reaching across the table to touch his arm.

"I appreciate that you’d come here to tell me that."

He picked up your hand and held it tightly in his.

"I’m sorry I did this to you. Let him be the man I couldn’t."

Standing to leave he kissed your cheek, grabbed his coffee and walked away.

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

Sitting in your office there was a soft knock at the door, "Hey, sorry, I just…did you,” she approached apprehensively with a cup of tea, “have you seen the dispatch page?”

It didn’t take long, the photos, the headlines, the comments…

Yoongi and Y/N are back together! Seen today, the couple were holding hands and kissing over coffee. Was she just using Lim Jaebeom?

You felt the wind knocked out of your lungs, of course this would happen.

Had Jaebeom seen? What would he think? As you sat panicking he sent a text.

JB: Just can’t manage to stay out of trouble, huh? I’m beginning to think you tip off your own location to Dispatch to grab the headline.

You threw your phone into the drawer and slammed it shut.

He waited, no answer, shit… he’d shoved his foot in his mouth again.

Why did he turn into a completely inarticulate unfunny idiot when it came to you?

JB: Y/N I’m sorry that was supposed to be a joke…

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

You looked at your assistant, “I think I really fucked up, you want to go out and get completely loaded tonight?"

She smiled agreeing, "I’ll start closing, you go put on something sexy."

You stood to leave, "May as well, If I’m going to get accused of stupid shit I might as well make it worthwhile.”

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

The drinks flowed freely and you just didn’t give a fuck anymore, about anything. If they were all watching, you didn’t care. You danced, you sang, you laughed, you needed no one. Until he was in front of you.

“Shit, let’s go”, you grabbed your friends hand but she smiled devilishly at you.

“I called him, its time to get the fuck over it Y/N. You’ll thank me later,” She waved him in and walked away.

Zeroing in on you, he made his way over. Ready on the defensive you expected him to be angry.

In your best effort to save face you’d cut him off before he could you.

“If you want to be mad at me go ahead, but I fucking warned you this would happen.”

You were pointing at his chest, trying to drive your point home.

“So if you’re here to tell me you don’t want anything to do with me, you go right ahead Lim Jaebeom."

"Are you done?” He raised his voice.

“You are the most stubborn girl I’ve ever met Y/N. I’ve gone to bat for you for the last month, I never gave up. AND! despite how hard you’ve pushed me away I’ve never left. Do you think I’d actually walk away because of a dispatch article?"

You both stared in a deadlocked gaze. Time standing still until he wrapped his arms around your waist. You could feel a million eyes on you all at once.

"Take me home Jaebeom.”

He grinned and kissed your forehead, “I thought you’d never ask."

The ride was quiet, you tucked your head under Jaebeom’s arm, the vehicle’s movements making you sleepy. He held your hand like a nervous high school boy, afraid what he really wanted to happen was about to happen.

The car pulled up to the front of his place and he smiled nudging you awake. “We’re here.“

Drunk and groggy you looked around, "where’s here?"

He put his arm around your waist to keep you from falling over, "You’re at my place, in Hannam. Remember? You asked me to bring you home?”

You looked him up and down giggling, “Yeah I did.”

Trying to balance you and getting his key in the lock he finally got the door open. At least 5 cats came running to greet him, “Oh my God JB, you’re a crazy cat lady!"

"This is why I can’t have friends over,” he picked up the smallest fluffy one and kissed it’s head.

The pretty little Siamese brushed against your leg until you picked her up. He looked shocked, “She doesn’t like anyone."

"You purred into her fur, "Well I’m not just anyone, am I?”

“Clearly."

He walked over and took the cat from your arms, "Let’s take care of you. What can we do to minimize the hangover you’re going to have in the morning?"

He held your face in his hands. "What do you need?"

You were feeling a little dizzy, whether it was from the alcohol or his proximity you couldn’t be sure.

"Maybe some fresh air, water…your arms to keep me from falling over.” You propositioned.

He slid the balcony door open and led you outside. “You’re going to have to hold onto the rail till my arms get back."

The air was cool and you closed your eyes inhaling deeply, everything felt right.

Perched atop the Seoul Skyline the stars shone brightly in the astronomical twilight. In the grand scheme of all the overblown things that had taken place in the last few months, you were still just a small player in a larger roll occurring around you.

A helicopter broke through the silence of the night "Uh-oh, looks like Dispatch tracked you down already.”

You shot him a look, “what, too soon?”

He passed you a glass and an aspirin, “Drink.”

He stood close beside you, leaning on the rail staring out at the city. You walked your hand over closing the distance until it touched his.

“I want to apologize."

He cut you off, "you really don’t have to, you didn’t do anything wrong."

He brought his hand the rest of the way to lay over top of yours.

"I’m pretty sure you once told me to never apologize for showing your feelings because if you do you’re apologizing for the truth."

Amazed you turned to him, "You remember me saying that?"

He nodded as you moved towards his lips.

He pulled back, "Y/N, you’re drunk, I’ve already ruined our first kiss I’m not going to let you forget the second."

"You’re a good guy JB"

He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

"Unfortunately I am…so I’m going to have to send you to bed."

You looked up at him with big eyes and a pout, "You don’t want to sleep with me?”

“Jesus Christ, you think I don’t want you? You’re really making me question my morals right now.”

He ran his hand up your arm and sighed while spinning you back towards the door.

Flipping the switch his bedroom lit up before you.

“It’s so cozy Jaebeom-ah. Cats, Plants, nice sheets…how are you still single?"

He handed you a t-shirt from his drawer, "I was kind of hoping I’m not anymore…you can sleep in this."

You grabbed it looking upset, "I’m going to feel bad if you sleep on the couch.”

He undid the zipper that ran up the back of your dress. “You’re going to feel bad in the morning anyway plus you’re not even going to remember this conversation."

You broke out the pout again, "What if I get scared or lonely?”

He bent down and picked up the cat that had followed you since you arrived.

“Nora is the best company and she wouldn’t dare let anything happen to you.” He kissed your forehead and pointed, “Bed, now."

He was still laughing at you as he turned off the light and closed the door.

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

You woke up in the huge bed, alone save for the tiny cat curled up into your side. The smell of coffee wafted under the door calling you to get up but your head swam in scenarios.

You remembered him being a complete gentleman, you remembered falling asleep against the pillow that smelt like him, you remembered…he was just on the other side of the door.

You liked it here, you didn’t want to leave. You wanted him to know you weren’t a waste of time, you’d already lost so much of it by pushing him away.

Grabbing your phone you composed your words into a poem you needed him to hear.

I was fine on my own, every night I slept alone

The distance kept me safe

It’s easier to fake the feel than dance around with something real

Promises might break

Then you came along and said that I was different

You were missing something and it felt like we should see

Normally, I’d fall away, your face is a distraction

But I like the way that you’re distracting me

I went home before my friends so I could hear your voice again

But it feels strange to care

I hesitate to say out loud that when I’m drunk and in a crowd

I pretend you’re there.

We watch the helicopters from the top of your apartment

And all I could think is I don’t want to leave

Normally, I’d fall away, your face is a distraction

But I like the way that you’re distracting me

I’m writing this from your bed while you’re in the other room

I like what you do to me, and I wanna tell you soon.

Maybe you’ll shy away, maybe you’ll fall apart

It’s hard being honest, but I’m being honest

Get in the play, running your fingers through my hair

Don’t wanna behave, how do you act when no one’s there?

Feeling inside, feeling a way, it’s different and it’s working

Oh, you make me nervous, oh, you make me nervous

You read it over and flopped back on his pillow…send…you heard his notification go off ….you waited.

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

There was a soft knock before he turned the handle.

He looked beautiful standing in the doorway. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, it was the first time you’d caught a glimpse of his body and your breath hitched at the sight.

Wrapped in nothing but his sheet you pulled the covers back in invitation.

He walked over to where you sat, "Is this what you really want?”

You bit your lip and nodded.

He pulled his pants off letting them fall to the ground and he crawled in beside you.

His hands drew through your hair and his lips found their way to yours…properly, undisturbed, no flashbulbs to commemorate the event. It was soft and languid, his tongue taking its time to explore your mouth.

He pulled away to stare at you, “Tell me I can finally have you."

"All of me Jaebeom…I’m yours.”

He caressed your face, thumb sliding between your lips, over your chin and down your neck as he kissed into the crevice of your collar bone.

It had been so long, yet it had never felt like this. You could feel his desire with every touch, his lips, his fingertips and his hard cock pressed up against your hip.

“I want you so bad J,” your hands tugged through his hair as you wrapped your leg around his body to guide him in closer.

“Shit..Shit…do you have a condom? I just never thought this would happen..fuck"

You both collapsed back onto the bed breathing heavy.

"Ugh, no,” you sighed frustrated.

He put both hands over his face, disappointed that even this moment couldn’t go smoothly.

You rolled into his side, “I never stopped taking the pill…and after what happened, I did get tested…I mean, if you’re not okay with it..it’s okay…we can wait.”

He placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you softly, “I haven’t been with anyone in years, it’s mandatory we get tested during our physicals…"

"Fuck thank God!” You rolled on top of him and ground yourself over him.

Laying kisses down his chest you let your fingers skim lightly over his abs. His skin tingled with goosebumps under your touch and you felt him twitch at your center.

“Are you ready?”

He nodded biting his lip, “Please."

He held your hips as you lined yourself up over him. Not breaking eye contact you slowly lowered yourself, taking him into you.

You felt like you could cry, it had been so long since you’d let yourself feel the intimacy of giving yourself to someone.

You both moaned in unison as he hit your cervix. "You feel so good,” he sighed.

You didn’t move, you wanted to feel him in you, feel him filling you, this wasn’t just sex. You were both here, in the same place at the same time feeling the same thing.

There was no past, only two people fusing themselves to one another’s future.

You began rocking your hips. Looking down his face was focused, beautiful, lost. His lips were parted and soft breaths escaped from between them every time you met back together.

He held you pressed against him as he sat upright. Brushing away your sweaty hair he kissed your neck, your shoulders and down to your breasts. He touched them reverently, his fingertips brushing lightly over your nipples making you clench around him.

His face scrunched up, “oh my god baby, you can’t do that.. it feels too good.”

Pushing his hair back you placed kisses all over his face, “We can do this all day, as many times as we want, I’m not going anywhere.”

He secured his arm around you and flipped you onto your back.

Hands on both sides of your face he rolled his hips into you. He hit different, deeper, the repetitive sliding building up the orgasm inside you.

It wasn’t rushed but it was excited, your hands, mouths and bodies had no motive other than providing each other pleasure.

Wrapping both legs around him you held him tightly against your core. “I’m so close Jaebeom, so close…”

Your head was thrown back and your hands gripped the pillows beside you. You felt him cumming, spilling out of you as he continued. He didn’t give up until your nails were dug deep into his skin and he could feel you pulsing around him.

He collapsed on top of you trying to catch his breath, “Are you okay? Was it okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sincerity, “It was perfect.”

Your voice trailed off and immediately noticing, he sat up to look at you.

“I’m scared Jaebeom, I don’t want this to start wrong, I don’t want to keep us a secret."

"Then let’s not.” He grabbed his phone and held it up to take a picture.

“Are you fucking nuts?” You asked while hiding in the sheets beside him.

He tapped the keys, “What are you writing?”

He wouldn’t answer you, “Jaebeom-ah, give me the phone…stop!"

Smiling he hit SHARE and handed it to you.

What you need to know:

1: I am in love with a girl and I think that she’s in love with me.

2: I am incredibly happy.

What you don’t need to know:

1: Anything else about us.

2: Especially not why I’m in bed at 2:30 in the afternoon

3: Or that Y/Ns hiding under the covers beside me.

#Jaebeom #lim Jaebeom #jaebum #got 7 #got7 scenarios #def cnvs #myprds #jayb

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minghellafine · 4 years ago

Link

Full article below.

Max Minghella never expected to be an actor.

The son of “The English Patient” director Anthony Minghella and dancer-choreographer Carolyn Jane Choa, Minghella says, “I one-thousand-percent anticipated working in movies, but acting was probably the last thing I thought I’d end up doing.” That all changed when he was 16 and caught a production of Kenneth Lonergan’s “This Is Our Youth” and, he says, “sort of got obsessed with the idea of saying those words.”

That obsession has resulted in a very busy dance card. This month, Minghella is co-starring in “Spiral” — a new chapter in the “Saw” franchise — and appearing in the fourth season of the Emmy-winning Hulu series “The Handmaid’s Tale.”

Minghella is also busy behind the camera: His feature film debut as writer-director, 2018’s “Teen Spirit,” was well-received, and he’s attached to direct the HBO Max movie “Shell,” which he calls “a completely bonkers script” by Jack Stanley. He’s also writing several things for his production company, Blank Tape, which he co-runs with Jamie Bell. Up next for the company is “Fred & Ginger,” a biopic that will star Bell as Fred Astaire and Margaret Qualley as Ginger Rogers.

Growing up on his father’s sets and making his own independent film has given Minghella a front-row seat to the gravitational forces that are reshaping the business. In some ways, however, he remains loyal to certain totems of the past. During the Zoom conversation, he angles his camera to spotlight a shelf in his home full of VHS tapes and notes: “I’m a person of a different era.” With so many platforms and outlets — and with a worldwide pandemic shutting down theaters for the past year — he says he misses the ceremony around movie releases. “It’s very difficult for me to sort of wrap my head around because I’m used to it being an event, a cultural event, and I think movies now, for better or worse, have become so much less active in daily conversation. But I’m optimistic, maybe naively, that, you know, film culture will return in a meaningful way.”

His new film could help spark that return to theaters. “Spiral: From the Book of Saw” opens May 14 and serves as a reboot of sorts to the long-running franchise. It stars Minghella as the new partner to Chris Rock’s seasoned detective, following the pair as they investigate a copycat killer who was inspired by Jigsaw. Minghella met Rock at a party shortly before being cast. “He said to me, ‘You know, we’re going to work together on something,’” recalls Minghella. “And I was convinced he thought I was someone else.” A couple weeks later, he received the “Spiral” script and was thrilled. He had recently been watching “Beverly Hills Cop” and “Lethal Weapon” and longing for something in the buddy-cop genre. “There was something so serendipitous about it,” he says. “I’ve never experienced that before in my career where something I was so craving was available to me at the same time.”

Director Darren Lynn Bousman says casting Minghella was an easy call: “Max is such an amazing talent. He was so passionate about the material and ensuring that everything felt real and organic.”

You can also catch Minghella on the small screen as “The Handmaid’s Tale” rolls out its fourth season. “None of us take it for granted,” he says of the series. “We’re all extremely conscious of how unique this experience is. There’s such a sense of gratitude that’s been there from the beginning. We know this is special while it’s happening.”

#max minghella #Spiral: From The Book Of Saw #spiral #the handmaid's tale #interviews #*

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hypnoticwinter · 4 years ago

Text

Down the Rabbit Hole part 14

As the loud, clanging gunshot rings out again, Elena gives me a sympathetic look and leans in a little closer to me. I gingerly take my hands away from my ears, but when she speaks I still can’t hear her through the earplugs. I reach up and start to take them out but she gives me a look and smacks my hand back down, and then she is tucking my hair back behind my ear and fiddling with the plugs. She presses down gently and the earplugs slip in a tiny bit further and then I truly can’t hear; I guess I just hadn’t inserted them all the way. I flash her a grin and a thumbs-up and she smiles at me a little indulgently. My eyes linger on her a little longer while she crosses her arms again, leans up against the painted brick wall of the firing range.

Ahead of us in the central stall, the robot and the tall, slim man with the joysticked control box are looking for more targets. The robot is holding the biggest rifle I’ve ever seen, one-handed no less, and though the shells it spits out with each trigger-pull have got to be the size of Coke cans – okay, maybe not that big, maybe about the size of a mediumish pill-bottle – it handles the recoil without any strain at all.

Down further the overhead rack whines and sends a dinner-plate sized target whizzing across the line again. The robot’s head tracks it for a moment before with a single swift and precise motion it flicks the barrel of the gun to the left and pulls the trigger. I wince again, less from the sound of it now, thanks to Elena’s help, and more due to the resonating shockwave of it throbbing in my chest.

The man with the joystick toggles something on it and the robot racks the bolt of the rifle, tilts it skyward to check the chamber, and then ejects the massive magazine and puts it on the table before it.

“As you can see,” the man says, looking around at us, “this new model of armature skeleton is the most advanced yet. We’ve put absolutely everything into this bad boy,” he grins, slapping the chest plate of the robot; it doesn’t react. “Gyroscopic stabilizers, redundant systems in practically every area, newest cyborgnetic processors, the works.”

“You said you were from Europe, right?” Ellis asks, and the man nods.

“That’s correct. This is going to be a bit of a joint venture. As I mentioned before, I’m Max Euler, one of the scientists from Anodyne Berlin’s robotics department. We reached out to the administration here,” he says, nodding to Makado, “when we felt that the skeleton was in the final phases of testing and could really do with an…extremely adverse environment to put it through its paces. Then, when we discovered that you were facing a certain…difficulty retrieving an artifact, well, everything seemed serendipitous.”

“You don’t sound very German,” I observe. A few heads twist around to look at me and I can see Makado hide a smile. Euler doesn’t miss a beat, though.

“I actually learned English in America,” he tells me. “That’s why I don’t have an accent when I speak it. Deep-immersion in a culture is the best way to learn, I believe. Now, do we have any other questions about myself or the armature or has its performance spoken for itself?”

To be fair, the thing’s performance was very impressive. Over the past couple of hours we watched him demonstrate its speed, its agility, its coordination…everything that would interest the men and women on the team with ex-military backgrounds, which, from what I gathered from the past couple of days, was the majority. I think only Crookshank and another man I had met only briefly before he’d disappeared again, a short, sinewy, compact individual who introduced himself with a wide, flashing grin as Klaus, just Klaus, weren’t. Well, possibly Elena, actually. Is the Coast Guard part of the military? I don’t know. I think so but I’m not certain. I should ask her if I ever manage to get her alone again.

Alone. That’s a laugh. These past couple of days in the barracks have been a decidedly different experience than what I’m used to. I’m not a particularly shy person and I’m confident enough that I’ve never had any real reservations about my body, but the absolute lack of privacy is something I’ve never really experienced before. I got used to it quickly enough, changing in front of everybody. The first time I was motivated mainly because I knew for certain that if I made a big deal of it I’d be taken even less seriously. Aww, look at the little baby, wants us to turn around while she puts a new shirt on? How cute! She thinks we’ve never seen a pair of tits before!

I guess if I want to psychoanalyze myself I could ask why I want to fit in so badly with these people, but it’s obvious, isn’t it? Being the outsider aches, and even if you can fox-and-grapes yourself into believing that it’s okay because you’re “better” than them, you’re always going to know how much bull that is, somewhere deep down.

As far as becoming part of a team goes, you can either have it built in or have it be something you build up. If I came here and I was a male ex-Marine or even something like a paramedic, or perhaps even a lineman (power line lineman, not football lineman), I’d be much more easily accepted. Not that I think the fact that I’m a woman really has much to do with it; it’s about experiences. What the hell does a reporter know about Real World Things, like how to build a fire or pitch a tent or hide food where a bear can’t get it? Or how to fire a gun, splint an injured leg?

I know how to do some of those things, to be fair. But I don’t have the credentials. Instead I have to build it up, I have to be willing to learn, I have to put in work without complaining, I have to play ball no matter what. Challenging an institution, even a little one like a team like this, is impossible until you get inside of it. You say something like, ‘uh, I think I’d prefer to have all of you not stare at my tits while I change my shirt’ and boom, all the goodwill you’ve built up is gone. You have to play ball, even if it makes you uncomfortable.

“Roan?” Makado asks again, sidling up to me while Euler prattles on about something else up in front. I take another look at him and the robot and flick my eyes over to Makado.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What’s up?”

“I want to show you the recording equipment we’ve got for you.”

We slip out of the firing range and head down the hallway, Makado’s heeled footsteps echoing off the tight corridor ceiling. She’s wearing her hair down today, with a broad headband resting high up on her forehead to keep those unruly curls in line. “Makado,” I say after a moment, “can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How dangerous is this going to be?”

She stops, turns and looks at me. Her lopsided gaze is calculating. “Very, I’d imagine,” she says eventually.

“Mm.”

“Why, are you having second thoughts?”

“No,” I tell her, “not particularly. I just wanted to – mentally prepare myself.”

“You know,” she says after a moment, “I was pretty certain you were going to chicken out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I assumed, you know, throw you to the wolves for a day or two in the barracks with the team, you’d get scared enough to realize this is a bad idea.”

“They’ve been decent to me, actually.”

“As they would have been to anybody,” she smiles, guiding us around a corner. “But I think you might find that my, and apparently your, definition of ‘decent’ might not match with that of a lot of other twenty-something female reporters.”

“If I quit, who’d work the camera?”

“It’s a camera,” Makado laughs. “How hard can it be?”

“Show me the camera and I’ll tell you.”

She shows me the camera and then blushes after a moment. “Christ,” she says. “Stop laughing, it’s a camera.”

“This is what you’re going to use? Where’d you get this, Walmart?”

“Look, our budget isn’t –“

“How much did this cost? A hundred bucks?”

Makado looks at me for a moment. “Eighty,” she says finally. I knead the bridge of my nose.

“I literally have a four hundred dollar camera in my bag back in the barracks that could take better video than this,” I say, “and that’s my backup SLR.”

“SLR?” Makado frowns. I wave it away.

“It’s a kind of camera. Mine’s digital, it can take stills or video. I have…I think three or four memory cards left? So probably about 60 hours of video, I’d guess. More if you’re okay with thirty frames per second instead of sixty. What’s the video going to be used for?”

“It’s classified,” Makado says. “I can’t –“

“Do you want good video or not?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Look, I really can’t tell you. We just want you to record the operation, that’s all. You don’t need to give it an edge or a slant or an angle or anything, just record it.”

“Mm,” I grunt. “Alright, that’s fair. What’s the deal with the crystal? Why is it so important?”

“Don’t press your luck. This camera you have, how fragile is it?”

I laugh. “About as fragile as this one, relatively,” I point. “Maybe a little more. If it breaks down there I’ll want an assurance that you’ll replace it.”

“If it’s in the budget.”

“A personal assurance, for my personal camera,” I elaborate. She looks at me dubiously.

“You want me to buy you a new camera with my own money?”

“If it breaks.”

“When did this turn into a negotiation?” she asks. Her voice is exasperated but I can tell that she wants to smile. “Fine. How about this? If you break your camera but the footage is usable, I’ll get you a new one. No footage, no camera.”

“Alright.”

“And you’re taking this one as well, as a backup.”

“Fine. I’ll need to get my charger, though.”

“For the batteries? You don’t have it with you?”

“If you recall, I thought I was just going to be coming in and then leaving the same night. I didn’t plan on getting caught up in this adventure of yours. My charger’s back at my motel room in town.”

“Guess we’d better go get it, then.”

And then Makado is putting her arm around my shoulder and ushering me out of the dingy storage closet, and then out of the building entirely.

* * *

“You know,” I say as the little Volkswagen powers down the main road and out the gate, Makado giving a cheery wave to the guard in the gatehouse as she passes, “this really isn’t the sort of car I was expecting you’d drive.”

She laughs. “You and everybody else. See, this actually used to be my aunt’s car. She won the lottery, bought herself a new car, gave me this one, and I was like, ‘hey, what the hell, free car, might as well use it’ and from there it grew on me.”

“It’s so tiny.”

“If you turn that into a crack about my height, you’re walking back to the Flesh Pit.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I laugh. “Although you are kind of fulfilling the stereotype by being so touchy about it.”

“That’s it –“

“I’m joking.”

“I know,” she says, flashing me a quick grin.

The world outside is like a bright warm hug. I realized as soon as Makado lead me out of the squat, evil-looking concrete Security building that for the last three days in the barracks I had been suffering from a myopia of purpose; I’d done little more than work out in the gym, hang out with Elena, and play wallflower, listening to the team laugh and joke and riff off each other. If I were to close my eyes, here in the car, with the top down, trailing my hand in the breeze, I’d be asleep in five minutes.

“You look peaceful,” Makado observes, and I crack an eye open, fix her with what I hope is a sardonic gaze.

“Do I not normally look peaceful?”

“Well, considering I’ve known you for about four days now, and about half of those we were both wondering if I was going to have to send you to federal prison, I’d say that generally you haven’t looked very peaceful.”

“Fair point.”

We drive on in silence for a little longer. “You know,” she says, “there’s no shame in backing out.”

“If you didn’t want me to go you shouldn’t have offered,” I tell her. “It’s too late now.”

“If you want the truth, I did it more for Peter than for you.”

“That’s bullshit,” I tell her. She looks at me a little uncertainly.

“He likes you, you know,” she tells me.

I look over at Makado, really look at her. I look at the lines of the tendons in her neck, loose and ropy but ready to spring into life and brace at a moment’s notice. I look at her cheeks and her eye and her lips, at the way she grips the wheel loosely in one hand, the other hand draped over the edge of the rolled-down window. She glances over, catches me staring. “Have you told him yet?”

I let out a little burst of mirthless laughter. “I haven’t even been able to tell my dad yet.”

“Why not?”

“Why haven’t I told my dad or why haven’t I told Pete?”

“I meant Pete.”

I roll the words around on my tongue for a long, long time before I finally say them. “Because Pete might like me, but he still loves you.”

Makado lets out a breath like I’d punched her, and I look over at her incredulously. “Oh, come on,” I say. “You couldn’t tell? Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

“I don’t –“

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, not exactly, but I know for a fact that he still has feelings for you.”

“I thought you and him…”

“Let’s just say I’m probably not going to be interested in men for a while,” I say. “Maybe for the rest of my life,” I add with a hollow laugh.

“That isn’t funny,” Makado says quickly. “And what do you – oh.”

“Yeah.”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that. Hell, if I were in her position I wouldn’t know what to say about it.

It feels good to tell someone.

“Are you scared?” she asks, glancing over again.

“It doesn’t feel real yet,” I tell her. “I got the letter with the results about a week ago. They wanted me to come back in and ‘discuss my options’ but there aren’t any. Once I get sick I’ll be scared, I imagine.”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You probably don’t want sympathy, but…”

“The only thing I don’t want is someone treating me differently, that’s all. Maybe I’m dying but this is going to be a long slow goodbye. And right now I still feel fine,” I say, wondering if I really believe it.

“I was meaning to tell you,” Makado says after a moment. “I think I can get you some ballast.”

I look at her sharply; she keeps her head still, eye on the road. “You’re serious?” I ask after a moment.

“Dead serious.”

“How?”

“The suits the team wears, the locator is in the helmet. At the end of the first day, you guys will make camp right near a ballast bulb. You do the math.”

I think about that for a moment, then shrug.

“Seems easy enough. Would it even help me?”

“It might. I don’t know, I’m not a scientist. Isn’t it worth a shot?”

“Sure. But what if…I don’t know, what are the side effects?”

Makado laughs. “Well, undiluted ballast…you’ll get really fucking horny. You’ll probably want to drink it right there so you don’t have to worry about hiding a fucking bottle of it from everyone. And it’s going to taste really, really gross.”

“I meant more like physiological stuff.”

“As far as I know it’s mildly addictive but nobody ever figured out if it was actually chemically addictive or if it was a mental thing. Like, the difference between coffee and cigarettes being addictive.”

“Speaking of,” I say. “You smoke?”

“I don’t.”

“Good,” I tell her. “Nasty habit.”

“Okay, miss two-packs-a-day.”

“Ouch. Low blow.”

“Did you always smoke that much?”

She pulls back onto the main road and then turns onto the side street that leads down to the motel. By daylight Gumption looks even sadder than at night. Fewer shadows to hide the cracks.

“No,” I tell her. “I used to smoke about a pack a week or so.”

“Let me guess,” she says. “When you found out you said ‘fuck it’ and started going all in?”

“Seemed like the thing to do,” I say. “I like nicotine, just not a fan of smoking, necessarily. Too concerned about my lungs’ wellbeing.”

“Right,” she agrees. “Alright, we’re here.”

The warm, dry air has sucked all the life out of me. “Alright,” I say, not opening my eyes. “The charger is on the nightstand, you can just run up and get it…”

“Go and get your damn charger.”

I groan, pop the door, stagger out of the low-slung Beetle. “Question for you,” I say, leaning back in.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you personally taking the time to drive me around?”

Makado laughs. “Do you know how busy I am as the Head of Security?”

“Very, I’d imagine.”

“I’m not busy at all. Place runs itself unless there’s an emergency. I do about two hours of phone calls and emails per night sitting in my quarters in my pajamas, rest of the time I just hang around and pretend to do something, anything, that justifies my salary.”

I can’t help but smile at her. “Glad I could give you something to do, then.”

“Go get your charger,” she repeats, reclining the seat backwards. She unclips her seat belt and shuts her eyes. “I’ll be right here.”

* * *

I can tell someone’s been in the room the minute I walk in. I’d left the do not disturb sign on the handle, they’ve taken it off, left it on the floor right in front of the door. I stare; then there is a soft, subtle sound from inside the room and I take a step back, reach behind me for the door handle.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Erica Walken tells me, stepping out from the bathroom. She has in her hand a small revolver, held about waist-high, barrel pointed unwaveringly at me.

It isn’t much to look at, that little gun, the barrel glinting in the low, warm light cast by the lamp over on the bedside table. The inside of the barrel seems like it must be the blackest, darkest, heaviest thing I’ve ever seen, and it draws my eyes to it like it were a singularity. Forget movies, forget books, if you have a gun pointed at you there’s no way to be cool, no way to just quip out a one-liner like in a movie. I an feel my hands shaking at my sides and if I don’t get a grip on myself my legs are going to follow suit. But I’ll be damned if I’m not going to at least try a one-liner. When’s the next time I’ll get the chance?

“Put the gun down,” I tell her. My voice almost trembles but I lock it down.

“No,” she says. “Did you come alone?”

“Y-yes. What the hell do you want?”

“You’ve been a hard woman to track down for the last couple of days. Sit down.”

She jerks the gun at the armchair in the corner and I move slowly to it, my back prickling with the knowledge that she’s still holding the gun on me, and sit.

She stares at me for a moment longer. “Are you working for the Company?” she asks me, and something in the way she says it, in the way she’s looking at me, makes me think that this is a capital-letter Very Important Question.

“The Containment Corporation?” I ask, trying hard to keep my voice innocent. She waves an irritated hand.

“The Containment Corp, Anodyne, whoever. You know what I mean.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then why the hell are you back?” she growls. “I know you went with Peter, even though I told you not to, and when you and he disappeared I knew they must have caught you. What the hell are you doing back here?”

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” I snarl back at her. She tosses her head, looks down her nose at me.

“Looking for answers,” she says. “I have a right to know –“

“Lady, I don’t know who you think you are but if you think I’m going to overlook the fact that you broke into my motel room –“

“Answer the question,” she tells me. She moves her thumb and draws the hammer on the revolver back and it locks into place with an ominous click.

“No,” I tell her. “I’m not working for them.”

She stares at me for a long while and I stare back at her, keep my face carefully blasé. “Alright,” she says quietly. “What happened? Why haven’t I been able to get in touch with Peter? When my boy heard the alarms he tried to get out of the Pit. He told me that the ditch had been filled in with concrete, he was trapped in there.”

“Your boy?”

She waves her hand impatiently. “The young man who went in there with you. Marcus.”

“Oh. I didn’t know they’d filled in the ditch,” I say softly.

“Well, they did. He can’t get out.”

“Where is he now?”

“Back in the Pit, of course. He wouldn’t have lasted a day out there on the surface, he’d have been caught in an instant. What happened to Peter? Why can’t I get him on the phone?”

I must be very deliberate now, and choose my words carefully.

“They caught Peter,” I tell her. “I don’t know what happened to him. I only just managed to get away.”

Her eyes narrow. “Bullshit,” she says, the word sounding out of place in her small, elegant mouth. “You’re working for them.”

I can see her knuckles whiten on the grip of the pistol. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“I can get him out,” I say quickly. “Marcus, I mean.”

“How?” she asks.

Yes, Roan, how? the little voice asks somewhere from the back of my head, and I close my eyes. “They made me a deal,” I say slowly. Maybe it’s pathetic but I feel a little better not being able to see the gun. “I’m going into the Pit. Tomorrow or the next day. I can find him, get him out of there.”

“And turn him right in to the Company?” she snorts. “Fat chance.”

“If you shoot me,” I say with sudden confidence, “you’re never going to see him again. He’s going to die down there and you won’t be able to get him back.”

Erica’s mouth is a tight line. Her eyes are like chips of obsidian. “He’s down there for a reason,” she tells me. “Tell me about this operation they’re pulling. Have they found one of the crystals?” she asks.

My mouth drops open. “You know about those?”

“So that’s a yes?”

I snap my mouth shut. She leans forward, and the muzzle of the revolver snuffles forward. I have to stop myself from cringing back into the chair. If she were to pull the trigger, at this range the bullet would -

“I’m going to blow your fucking brains out,” she says, “if you don’t tell me what you know.”

“Okay,” I say, frantic now, “okay, Jesus Christ, fine, they found a crystal! Is that what you want to know so bad? Yes, they found one. They’re going down to get it and I’m going with. Fuck!”

“Do you know the route?”

“No! Look, I don’t know what the hell you want or what you’re planning, but -”

“Focus,” she says. “They have a crystal. You’re certain? You saw footage of it?”

“Yes,” I say.

Erica blows a breath out. She looks very tired suddenly; she leans back against the counter and the gun finally wavers away from me. “Alright,” she says softly. “It looks like I –“

“Roan? You okay in there?” someone calls from outside the hotel room, and Erica and I both jump. She hurls to her feet, giving me a murderous glare.

“You bitch,” she says. “You brought her with you? I should -“

“Roan, who are you talking to?”

Erica looks as though she doesn’t know what to do. She glances back at the door and then down at me. I can see her start to say something, but before she can get the words out, there is the soft snap of a card fitting into the lock and then the handle turns. My panicked eyes turn to Erica and I can see her raising the gun, mid-snarl. “Hide the gun!” I hiss urgently, and she stares at me for a frozen moment before the door opens all the way and Makado, holding a pistol of her own, a slim black automatic, peeks around the corner. Our eyes meet but she can’t see Erica, the woman is around the corner from her.

Erica is staring at me and I flick my eyes back to her; she hasn’t put the gun away and I try to implore her to with a look, but she’s having none of it. She moves to the wall and the floor creaks. Makado’s aim shifts up and over to the corner as Erica flattens herself against the wall, revolver extended ahead of her, head-height.

I feel as though I’m going to pass out but I know I have to do something, and finally after my anguished nerves have been screaming at me to move, to flex my muscles and move, goddam it, I rise lurchingly, a sudden motion that seems in immediate retrospect to have been a very bad idea. Makado’s gun wavers for a moment but Erica swings around almost immediately and starts to get a bead on me. Makado rushes forward and bursts around the corner, knocking me to the floor in the process. I land hard and lay there for a moment, then I roll over. I see Makado on the ground, Erica on her knees, the two of them struggling over the revolver, Erica trying desperately to stuff her finger back into the trigger guard. I snap out a kick and catch her in the side and she whoops out a breath and lets the gun go for a moment. Makado jerks it away from Erica and I finally, finally see the outline of Makado’s pistol, discarded on the floor right in front of me, blending in with the dark carpet.

Before I can snatch it up Erica bolts to her feet, stepping on Makado’s forearm in the process, a yelp boiling out of Mak’s mouth as she wrenches her arm out from beneath Erica’s shoe, but Erica is already sprinting out the door, slamming it behind her. “Mak,” I say urgently, trying to hand her the gun, but Mak sees it and freezes, and then her eye flicks up to mine, wide and scared, and then I realize I’m pointing it right at her. “Shit,” I say, jerking the barrel away from her. “I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry –“

She reaches out, grabs it and takes it from my nerveless hands. “Grip first,” she says, and then clambers to her feet and rushes out the door after Erica.

By the time I manage to get to my feet and stagger out of the room after her, Roan is there leaning up against the balcony, revolver and pistol both slung away into one pocket or holster or other, watching the big black car roar out of the parking lot fast enough to leave twin streaks of black rubber in its wake.

“You okay?” I ask, breathless still, and Makado glances over, eye wide and limpid.

“Yeah. You?”

“I think so.”

She blows a breath out, inclines her head forward until her forehead rests on the cool metal bar of the balcony. I think about it for a moment before I do it, but then I reach over and gently lay my hand on her back, and I feel her stiffen and then relax. She has a terrible knot of muscle just above her shoulderblade and I work at it with my fingers, run my thumb over it in slow, firm strokes. “That’s nice,” she murmurs after a moment.

“You’re pretty tense,” I observe.

“Well, we both almost died, so…”

“How did you get in?”

“Oh, I made a copy of your keycard when we took your stuff the other night,” she says. “Might have come in handy later.”

“Good thing you did.”

“Never know when you’ll need something like that. We got lucky.”

“Peter told me that Erica’s with the cult,” I say, and Makado nods.

“Yeah,” she says. “What the hell was eating her, did she tell you? She can be a bit of a loose cannon but I’ve never seen her pull a fucking gun on anyone.”

“I don’t know,” I frown. “She - she knew about the crystal somehow, she was asking me if I’d seen it, if we were going down to get it.”

“Ah,” Makado says lightly, “that would do it.”

She does smell like peaches, I realize suddenly, standing this close to her. Her back feels very warm beneath her thin shirt, and her skin has a muscley firmness to it that my fingertips find appealing.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask her. Her eye flickers open; I can see her glowering at me from beneath the crook of her arm.

“Mind your own business,” she says.

“This is all about the crystal, isn’t it,” I say thoughtfully. “It was just bad timing, our coming in when we did. You thought we were after it.”

She looks at me bleakly. “Yeah, I did. I didn’t know what to think so I made the call. Beginning to think it was a bad one.”

“Why can’t you tell –“

“Because you don’t need to know!” she snaps. “Because some things are supposed to stay secret.”

I take my hand off of her back. She shuts her eye. “I suppose now you’re going to be mad at me,” she offers, and I blow out a sigh, look out across the parking lot. I can see heat distortion off in the distance, out across the plains beyond the town limits, and in the distance I can see the electric fence.

“I’m not mad at you,” I say so softly that she has to ask me to repeat myself. I look down at her and give her a faint smile. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not – I’m not mad at anything, I guess, not the Pit, not the Corporation, not anything. I wish Rey didn’t have to die but if this crystal is so damn important then what else could you have done? He’d have thrown himself down that elevator shaft if you’d let him. Probably wouldn’t have done any damage, but -”

“A couple of years ago,” Makado says, straightening up, hands on her hips, twisting her back left and right, coaxing a deep crack from her spine like something heavy slotting into place, “we had someone get in with a bomb. He was schizophrenic. Convinced that the Pit was going to swallow the world whole. He sprinted for the orifice and if we didn’t put him down he would have dropped that bomb down there and it would have wrecked the gantry, would have hurt the Pit like fuck, maybe even gotten another choke response out of it. As it was it cracked the fuck out of the concrete exclusion plate, we had to put in a new one.”

I can see ghosts swimming in her eye when she looks at me. “I can’t let that happen again. Even if it’s, fuck, ten times less severe than 2007, there’s eight guys down there in that control room in the monitoring station at all times who are counting on me not to let something like that happen.”

“You did the right thing, then,” I tell her, wondering if I’m lying.

“I – what?”

“You did the right thing,” I repeat. “I don’t know if I would have done anything different if I was in the same position, because you’re right, you can’t risk it. You don’t know what Rey wanted to do, you don’t know who he was or whatever he was carrying. You made the call. As long as you make a decision you’re doing something right, even if it turns out to be the wrong decision. The wrong decision is better than no decision.”

Makado nods after a moment. “Yeah,” she says. She’s looking out in the same direction I am but I can tell from the way she’s staring off across the dusty plains that whatever she sees out there lives mostly inside her head.

“Now, to be fair, I don’t know how I’d live with myself afterwards, but in the moment I’d still make the same call.”

Her eye flicks over to me and then her lips split in a slow lazy smile. “Well aren’t you just a ray of fucking sunshine.”

I grin back, nod to the car. “You’re really not going to call the cops on her?”

“What’s the damn point? She’ll be out of the county by now. Tell you what, do you know her phone number?”

I start to say I don’t, but then I think about it and lead Makado back into the motel room, fiddle with the room phone until I can find a call history. “There,” I say, pointing to one entry. “That’s her. She called me about three days ago, before I came to the Pit. Told me not to go.”

Makado nods, takes her phone out, punches the number in. It rings and rings and then goes to voicemail. “Erica,” she says, once the tinny beep sounds, “this is Makado Veret. Look, I’m not calling the cops on you. I know you probably don’t believe me but as far as I’m concerned this is no harm no foul, alright?”

Her eyes meet mine. “We know about your guy in the Pit. Roan told me you were asking questions about the crystal. I’m only going to warn you once. Whatever you’re planning, call it off.”

Makado’s eye flickers over to me, then away again. I can see her throat bob as she swallows, then she continues. “You probably can’t reach him by phone but if you do get ahold of him, tell him to head to the main gullet and up to the monitoring station. I can’t promise immunity but I’d rather get him out of there alive than dead, and I swear to you I will try to get him off property without any federal charges. Call it good faith. But if you pull the shit you just pulled again,” she says, her voice cooling so quickly I can practically hear the snap, “or if you try to interfere with my operation, you’re going to be coming back out in a bodybag. Oh, and I have your gun. Call me back.” She rattles off her number and then hangs up, blows a breath out.

“Think she’ll call you?”

“Maybe,” Makado shrugs. She reaches into her pocket, pulls the revolver out, examines it. “Free gun, though, if she doesn’t.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“That was a joke,” she explains, and when I start giggling I can’t suppress it even though as far as jokes go that was fairly lame, but I realize that it’s just all the adrenaline from the fight flooding out of me belatedly in one long relieved flow and even as Makado cuffs me playfully behind the ears and tells me it wasn’t that funny, I manage to make her smile, and I suppose that ought to be enough.

When we get back, charger and a couple of extra half-full SD cards tucked carefully into my pocket, Elena is the only one who noticed that I’d been gone for long, but when she asks where I’ve been, rolling over on her stomach to peer at me from her messy cot, I just shrug. “Out,” I tell her, and content myself with a mysterious smile while she shakes her head and returns to her magazine, muttering something about fucking admin under her breath, but it’s with a crooked smile that I know is meant for me, and when I flop onto the cot next to her nobody gives me a second glance and I feel, for just a moment, like I am starting to belong.

Continue with Part 15

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#mystery flesh pit #Michael Crichton #thriller #novel #writing #original writing #horror #caving #monster #writeblr #alt lit

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ewankoseyo · 5 years ago

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pet names || mark imagine

A/N: By popular demand and in celebration of our favorite #Marknae’s birthday, I present to you a continuation of Mark’s fake dating drabbles! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: Some swearing idk

Please read you owe me and just for show before reading this.

Pretending to date Mark would be a lot easier if it wasn’t so hard to tell when he was acting and when he wasn’t.

——

Mark said a lot of stupid things, but this was probably the most stupid thing to come out of his mouth by far.

“Mark, you’re a grown ass man. Why would you need to pretend to date when you could just, I don’t know, go out and find someone you actually like?”

Mark sighed as he put his mug down and ran a hand through his hair. He had really hoped that you of all people would be the most understanding and not question his rationale.

You and Mark had known each other for as long as you could remember. Legend has it that your moms purposely got pregnant at the same time so their kids would end up best friends like they were. Though you two never got along growing up—you begged your mom to never invite him over again after he told Jackson about your crush on him at your 13th birthday party—things began to shift when you both entered high school and realized you didn’t know anyone else besides each other. Out of the necessity to survive the unknown, you and Mark stuck together.

Serendipitously, you and Mark never seemed to un-stick since then.

Throughout the turbulence of your teenage years and your differing career paths that you were afraid would split you apart, you two remained close friends. Staying in the city after you both graduated from college, Mark vowed to stop by your new café-bakery whenever he had time off from his busy schedule in his second year of residency.

He was really hoping that his dedication to seeing you would make you more open to the outlandish proposition.

“That’s the thing, I don’t want to go out and find someone I like. I really don’t have the time for a relationship.” Mark sighed again, his gaze averting to the menu board behind you. He noticed the new addition to the board, written in your usual fancy hand lettering. It seems like you finally perfected the pie you’d been working on last week. You’d send him a picture of your latest attempt, asking him to stop by the shop to try it when he had the time since your taste buds could no longer tell the difference.

“Oh, but you have the time to pretend to date me?” You cocked an eyebrow questioningly at the guy before you, pausing your cleaning motions. “What is this even for? I thought you already put her behind you a long time ago.”

You and Mark collectively shuddered at the thought of the wretched girl. Things hadn’t ended so well after two (wasted) years together. Everyone in their cohort believed them to be the perfect couple—two beautiful people at the top of their class with the brightest futures ahead of them. You always believed they would get married once their busy schedules settled down.

That was, until Mark showed up at your apartment one night unexpectedly, his hands visibly shaking and his eyes not knowing where to look. You silently watched as he paced through your living room, explaining to you almost incoherently the cause of his distress.

“I gave her two fucking years and she really wasted half of it fucking our professor.”

Mark ended up staying over that night. As you stroked his hair softly while he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled himself into your chest, his anger washed over with melancholic fatigue, you realized that you had never seen him look so broken before. Usually Mark was the one making you feel better after some failed date, but that night, he needed you to comfort him.

That night also felt like ages ago, and Mark had realized he was better off without his ex, so why did he need you to help him with his facade?

“I have put her behind me,” Mark assured. “But ending things with her has...opened up other problems.”

“Like what?”

“Like some other girls from my cohort clearly trying to, um, get my attention.”

You scoffed. Leave it to Mark to think that having girls fawn over you is a problem big enough to resort to something as crazy as fake-dating.

“Just tell them you’re not interested.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Mark resigned with a knowing look. You knew he always had a problem with confrontation. “Some of these girls are actually my friends from rotations and I don’t want to hurt their feelings.” Knowing you were ready to shoot back with another smart comment, Mark quickly continued. “But that isn’t even the whole problem! Ever since other girls have taken notice to me, she is suddenly interested in me all over again. I only recently blocked her number after she kept blowing up my phone with her sorry-ass apologies asking if we could get back together, and according to Jackson, she’s been trying to get closer to the guys in an attempt to get closer to me. Poor Yugyeom got really excited because he thought an older girl was finally interested in him until Jaebum set him straight.”

You were going to make a comment about how a restraining order and maybe a few other court-sanctioned forms would easily fix his problems when his last comment finally made his whole proposition click.

Because if his ex-girlfriend really wanted to get closer to him, she wouldn’t just get close to the guys—she would try to get close to you.

It was no secret that she was never really fond of you while they were dating. And with you still by his side long after their relationship had gone to shit, you imagined the feeling had festered.

“So let me get this straight...” You got out your rag from your apron and began to clean the countertop in an attempt to clean out your mind and think of the situation logically. “You want me to pretend to date you so that your ex and all of your other little fangirls will back off?”

“Yes, yes, I know this sounds crazy, but if it weren’t for the witch making everything so complicated, I wouldn’t be in such a bind.”

“God Mark, this is some high school shit,” you say with a shake of your head. “And why would I agree to doing such a thing? What’s in it for me?”

“Because you’re kind and wonderful and would do anything to help a homie out?” You rolled your eyes at his hopeful pleading expression. His eyes had grown to the size of saucers and he pouted his lip adorably. This may have worked on his admirers, but it wasn’t going to work so easily on you. “And it wouldn’t be so much work on you. We already spend all our free time together so it wouldn’t be much of a change from how we are now. I’ll do whatever you want, within reason of course. Whatever you want, just say the word.”

You brushed passed Mark as you bussed dirty dishes and his now empty mug off the counter, ignoring his expectant expression through your motions.

“If we do this, we should probably set some ground rules.”

Pleased with your (albeit unenthusiastic) response, Mark reached over the counter to ruffle your hair. “You’re the best! Thank you so much, babe!”

“Rule number one: I hate pet names.”

Mark only chuckled at your disdain as you retreated to the kitchen to put the dishes away. As you began to load the dishwasher, you found a similar grin inching its way on your lips.

——

As per his ground rules, Mark insisted that you two keep up the act in front of both your friends and families. In order to deter his admirers, the people closest to you needed to believe the lie as well. You weren’t going to make this huge announcement to your loved ones like it was a wedding invite, but when the opportunity to put on a show presented itself, you both were expected to take it.

This included attending a dinner party at your fake boyfriend’s best friend’s house because couples always showed up to functions as a couple, of course.

With one of Mark’s (many, you soon realized) admirers in attendance at Jackson’s small get-together, tonight had proved to be a good night to begin your masquerade.

No one thought anything of it when you two arrived to the house together. Mark bringing you a glass of wine from the bar while you were catching up with Jinyoung was nothing out of the ordinary. No one batted an eyelash when he casually put an arm around you as you all listened to one of Jackson’s crazy stories.

It was when you were coming out of the bathroom and realized everyone was gathering for a group photo in the living room that suddenly caught everyone’s attention. Bambam noticed you first.

“Oh, Noona, hurry up! It’s on timer! Guys, make some room.”

Without skipping a beat, Mark patted the spot on his lap. “It’s okay. Babe, just sit here.”

“Babe?!”

The camera clicked as the dinner party slowly registered Mark’s words. Seeing as everyone was caught up in shock from the revelation as you nonchalantly placed yourself in Mark’s lap and embrace, it was necessary that more pictures needed to be taken.

Thoughts of the evening flowed through your head after Mark dropped you off home and you finally got to settled into bed. Everything had felt completely normal and no one questioned your relationship with Mark until it was time to take pictures. Even when he took you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your middle as a show of affection, his cheesy smile matching yours as he placed his chin on your shoulder—to you, it had simultaneously felt so normal yet the thought caused a stir in your stomach.

It wasn’t that weird for you and Mark to be affectionate and touchy with one another, so why couldn’t you stop thinking about his gesture from earlier?

You felt your phone buzz next to you as you tried to shake off those thoughts. Adjusting your eyes to the dim lighting, you soon realized it was a notification from Jackson. He had tagged you and Mark in a comment on a photo.

“And the cutest couple award goes to...”

You quickly opened up Instagram to see that Jaebum had already posted the pictures from earlier. You recognized the first picture as the moment of everyone’s discovery where you and Mark were the only ones posed for the picture while everyone else looked at the both of you with a mix of shock, confusion, and excitement. The second was the normal picture where everyone was finally smiling after having calmed down a bit from the revelation (though you noticed that Mark’s admirer in attendance wasn’t quite smiling with her eyes.) The final picture was the funny one. Your eyes scanned over everyone else’s silly expressions and gestures with one another before they landed on you and Mark. He was whispering in your ear about how Jackson’s fly was unzipped the whole night and how everyone was waiting for him to find out on his own. The comment had you cackling, nearly knocking you out of his lap before you wrapped an arm around his neck for balance. Mark’s arms had instinctively held you tighter to keep you from falling.

You were pretty sure you stared at the photo for a good ten minutes. You couldn’t believe it—you two really looked like an actual couple together.

Was this how everyone usually saw you two? You noticed the other comments on the photo were about the big reveal as well.

bambam1a: @yu_gyeom pay up! I told you they would get together!

333cyj333: omg I really thought they were dating already

jinyoung_0922jy: wow all the signs were there but none of us picked up on it

Was this how you usually saw the two of you?

You immediately shut off your phone as the idea invaded your thoughts and you turned on your side to get some sleep for real. Perhaps you were getting these crazy thoughts because you weren’t getting enough sleep.

——

As Mark predicted, pretending to be a couple didn’t put much work on you. Besides having to get used to the small PDA—you remembered turning into a blushing mess when Mark pecked you on the cheek for the first time after introducing you to his hospital friends—nothing had really changed in the way you had to act in front of people. You would still be roasting each other in front of your friends. The only difference was that Mark would pull you into his arms and plant a kiss on your forehead, muttering “just kidding, babe” soon afterwards.

You also appreciated having Mark at your beck and call, as per your ground rules. You tried not to have him go out of his way to owe you for the favor, seeing as he was already a pretty busy and stressed out guy, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy the free dinners and him lending you his new car.

And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t kind of enjoy the newfound attention you were receiving. After a few public appearances as a couple and some not-so-subtle pictures showing the two of you together posted by mutual friends on social media, word quickly spread that you and Mark were a thing. People you hadn’t talk to since high school were messaging you to congratulate you on locking down the most handsome guy in your graduating class. You no longer felt like the odd single one out when hanging out with your other taken friends—and thankfully, you didn’t have to put up with them trying to set you up anymore. One time when you were waiting for Mark to finish up his shift at the hospital—he had promised you dinner and boba if you waited for him—one of his friends from his rotation had approached you. It didn’t take too long to realize she was one of his admirers.

“You two look so cute together,” she had said, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than compliment you. “I’m surprised you and Mark only started dating recently, I always assumed you were together already.”

Your lip quirked in confusion. You had never met the girl before, so how could she make any assumptions about you and Mark? “What do you mean?”

She gave you a sad smile before looking down at her feet. “He just looks so happy when he talks about you, and he talks about you all the time. He keeps telling us to check out your shop and during our breaks, he shows us pictures of the desserts you make. He seemed so smitten with you.”

Before you could ask her what Mark has said about you, the man in question was suddenly at your side. He beamed at you, interlacing your fingers before placing a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Hey princess, ready to go?”

So you and Mark were garnering a lot of attention. It was not long before you caught the attention of someone you really didn’t want to find out.

“My mom wants us to come over this weekend for dinner.”

You nearly choked on a boba pearl when Mark made the announcement.

“What? Why?”

Mark gave you an apologetic look. “Apparently your mom told my mom, and you know how she is about us...she’s just really excited...”

You groaned as you took another sip of your drink. You had hoped that you would be able to put off this moment for a while longer. You were already getting an earful from your mom when she found out about you two, always nagging you to make sure that Mark was eating enough and even going as far as to sending you links to home remedies when you told her offhandedly he had caught a small cold. As much as you loved Mark’s mom, you didn’t know if you could handle acting all lovey-dovey with her son in front of her.

Despite your apprehension, you tried to look on the bright side. “Dinner, huh? At least your mom is an amazing cook.”

Mark grinned at you across the table. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t ask you when you’re giving her a grandchild. She already has like two of them.”

You chuckled. “Good.”

It was true. Mark’s mom didn’t bring up anything about your future kids, but she did bring up something else.

“There’s my good daughter-in-law!”

“Mom!” Too caught off-guard by the greeting to respond, you were glad Mark spoke up first. Mark moved in front of you to hug his mom, subtly shooing her away from you as he moved inside the house. “It hasn’t even been a full month yet, don’t you think you’re jumping the gun?”

“Nonsense!” Mark’s mom moved to pinch her son’s cheek, earning a fake groan from the tall boy. “Your aunty and I have been—”

“—Trying to set us up since high school?” You interrupted before approaching the woman with open arms and a teasing smile. “You and my mom think you’re both so slick, don’t you? Hi Aunty!”

“Well, we were right, weren’t we?” Mark’s mom giggled as she led you both to the dining room. “Come eat! I made all your favorites!”

Your worries over the impending evening slowly went away over dinner. You found it quite comforting actually. Catching up with the Tuans and eating Mark’s mom’s amazing cooking reminded you of the old days when his parents would come home from work and tell you to stay for dinner when you and Mark were hanging out at his place. It was as if nothing had changed since you were a teenager.

As you glanced over at Mark, who was miserably failing to deny the extra food his mom was forcing onto his plate, you realized that Mark hadn’t changed much either. Despite growing out of his awkward phase, he still had the same funny nose that you liked to poke to annoy him. The same bright eyes that seemed to disappear when he was laughing hysterically from a dumb joke. The same contagious smile that you found yourself slowly falling for.

Wait, what?

“So who asked who out?” Mark’s mom asked curiously as she filled up your glass with more water. “How did this happen?”

“What?”

“I asked her first,” Mark replied almost easily. “I think I always knew I liked her but I just took too long to ask so eventually I did it. I stopped by her shop one day and asked her out...and here we are now...” He gave you a shy smile before averting his gaze back to his plate and suddenly you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Mark was awfully good at lying, even to his parents.

As you prepared to leave after dinner, Mark’s mom approached the both of you with a shoebox.

“I meant to show this to you guys before, but I guess it makes more sense to give it to you now,” she explained as she opened the box. “I’m sure there are some pictures here that you’ve never seen before. Take a look through them! I’m going to pack you guys food to take home.”

Waves of nostalgia rushed over you as you rifled through the photos. Your college graduation. Your high school graduation. Mark and your family wearing matching shirts with your face on it for your volleyball senior night. You and your friends rushing the court to hug Mark for making the winning full-court shot at his basketball game. You and Mark on your first day of high school, in which you were standing a good five inches from each other and wore forced smiles to please your mothers. You with your cake on your 13th birthday—you wearing a forced smile because the picture was taken after Mark told Jackson about your crush (but you noted that Mark seemed to have a pleased smile in it.) A day when your parents took you both ice skating. A day when your parents took you on a picnic.

“Aww, look at this one!” Mark chuckled as he held up a picture to you. “We’re probably like five here?”

It was a picture of the two of on your doorstep getting ready to trick-or-treat on Halloween. With big smiles and even bigger jackolantern buckets, you were wearing matching basketball jerseys and matching bunny ears.

You let out a laugh. “Oh my god, we were obsessed with Space Jam.”

“It was the trend back then!” Mark asserted, meeting your grin. “And look at you, you were so cute.”

You sneered. “Yeah, I wonder what happened.”

“You became the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Before you could even try to think of a reply, Mark’s mom had come back to the living room with bags of leftovers. You soon after said your goodbyes and Mark drove you home without incident, though his words echoed in your head the whole way through.

The weird feeling you felt in your stomach was still there as he gave you his kind smile and bid you good night.

What was it about that smile?

——

Mark was acting kind of weird tonight.

Your third party (but probably 50th sighting overall) as a couple, you no longer felt so awkward about keeping up the act. There were still a few admirers who clung onto the hope that Mark may return their feelings, so you learned to get used to the frequent back hugs and forehead kisses.

You hated to admit it to yourself, but it actually felt kind of nice to be held.

You liked to think that people saw you as the “casual” couple where you still acted like the close friends you were before but with some PDA, but for some reason, tonight Mark was being especially clingy.

It had started when Jaebum introduced you to one of his friends who was also passionate about baking. Mark was off getting drinks for the both of you and catching up with some friends he hadn’t seen in a while. Ecstatic to meet someone who shared the same passions as you, you and Jaebum’s friend quickly went back and forth about everything from different recipes to try out to food trends you’ve noticed recently to dessert Instagram accounts you should follow.

“I don’t know if Jaebum has told you this, but I’m also thinking about opening a business myself and wanted to learn more. Do you think we could exchange numbers and maybe meet up—”

“She’s already busy as it is. Here love, screwdriver just the way you like it.”

Mark handed you your drink with a cool expression you couldn’t quite place before wrapping an arm around your waist. Recovering from the interruption, Jaebum’s friend held out his hand to Mark.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m—”

“Babe, they’re starting a new game of Cranium and want us to join. We better go before Jackson throws a fit.”

Before you could apologize and say goodbye to the guy left hanging in front of you, Mark was already pulling you in the direction of your friends, his grip on your hip growing slightly tighter.

“Mark! He wanted to ask me about my shop!”

Mark gazed down at you and you couldn’t help but shiver slightly under his cold stare. You never thought his eyes could be so dark.

“He can just ask Jaebum for your number. Let’s go play.”

Though Mark visibly relaxed as you joined your friends for games, you noticed he was a little touchier with you than usual. He would plant kisses to the back of your hand or your temple whenever you won a turn for your team. His hand was practically glued to your waist, absentmindedly stroking the fabric against it. The only time his hand did leave your waist was when you had to mold something with play-doh for a round and one of Jackson’s friends made a suggestive comment about your hands.

“Wow, Mark’s girl sure has a way with her hands.”

As soon as your team had correctly guessed what you were creating and you took a seat back on the couch, you found Mark’s hand now resting on your thigh, slightly gripping the flesh. You turned to Mark but he only continued watching the game, paying no mind to your reaction to the sudden new form of contact. Despite the small smile placed on his lips as he watched Yugyeom and Bambam’s antics, you noticed his jaw subtly tighten.

“Are you okay?” You asked him once the game was over, excusing yourself from the rest of the group to get another drink from the bar. “You’re acting kind of...strange.” You eyes drifted to his free hand now tucking away some hair behind your ears.

“I’m just being the best fake boyfriend I can be and showing others you’re mine,” Mark shrugged, quickly brushing off your worry like his hand brushing through your hair, though his words caused a small stir in your stomach. “Are you going back to join the group?”

“Nah, that game got way too heated. I need to be away from people for a little bit.”

“Mind if I join you?” Mark cleared his throat awkwardly before casually leaning against the bar. “You know—I’m just staying by your side at a big party like a good fake boyfriend would, of course.”

“Mark, just say you’re tired of people too,” you joked, leaning next to him. He slung his arm around your shoulders as you took out your phone and began scrolling through social media.

You said nothing about his actions, trying to ignore the whisper in the back of your head telling you how his arm felt like it was meant to be there.

You also tried to ignore the tingles running down your spine as Mark leaned closer to your ear and spoke, busying yourself by engaging in idle conversation about some shoes you saw on Instagram.

Ignorance became impossible as you suddenly felt Mark bringing you closer to him with the arm already around you, tilting your face towards his.

And then without warning, he was kissing you.

It was probably from the bottomless screwdrivers you were consuming that night, but at that moment, you found Mark’s lips absolutely intoxicating. All sensible thoughts flew out of your head as he kissed you with a passion you’d never seen in him before, his lips tugging at yours softly yet with hunger. His free hand slid down to your waist to pull you closer, closing the gap left between your bodies. Feeling his tongue brush slightly against your bottom lip before dancing with yours, you knew your knees would have given out beneath you if he wasn’t holding you so tightly. With every peck against your lips, the same voice you had been ignoring in your head now whispered “please don’t stop.”

When he finally pulled away for air, his face still a mere few inches from yours, you let yourself believe for a second that Mark was gazing at you with all the adoration his eyes could muster, too real to fake.

But then you remembered it was all fake and although prohibition of kisses on the lips weren’t explicitly stated in your rules, it was still something you both never considered doing. So you voiced your confusion to him, knowing very well that whatever prompted the kiss had to be serious.

Mark smiled shyly, stumbling out a response while his eyes traveled elsewhere. You followed his gaze, instantly feeling your heart drop into your stomach when you realized it was serious.

There she was, glaring at you with the same disdain as when she used to pick Mark up from your place for dates.

You glanced up at Mark and noticed him stare back blankly, seemingly frozen under her gaze just like you were.

“Oh.”

Mark proceeded to apologize for the sudden attack but you just brushed it off.

“That’s what fake girlfriends are for.”

Really you were just trying to brush off the feeling of his kiss burned into your brain.

It remained branded there when Mark drove you home that night. As he steered through the darkness, Mark chatted amiably with you about something funny that happened with one of his patients the other day, as if he hadn’t just given you one of the most mind-blowing kisses in the world an hour ago. If he noticed your lack of reciprocation in the conversation—your responses limited to “oh really?” or “damn, that’s crazy”—he didn’t say anything about it.

As he pulled up in front of your building, he gave you the same bashful expression he held when he pulled away from your lips.

“Sorry, again, for...you know—”

“It’s okay,” you shook your head, unknowingly holding a breath in an attempt at nonchalance. “I understand.”

It was just a kiss for show, nothing else.

Mark gave you a relieved smile. “Good night. Thank you again.” As you were about to open your door, Mark leaned towards you and pecked you on the cheek.

Your hand froze on the handle. “W-what was that for?”

Mark looked at you in confusion before the absence of an audience dawned on him. “Sorry. Habit, I guess?” He gave an awkward chuckle.

You laughed nervously in response. “Well, good night Mark.”

And by good night, you meant good bye.

——

It was a full week until you saw Mark again.

You were getting ready to close up, bidding good night to your employees as you cleaned the espresso machine when the front door jingled open again.

“Sorry, we’re closi—”

“I did it!” Mark approached you at the counter with the biggest smile on his face. Whatever the cause, he may as well have won the lottery. “I finally confronted her!”

“Wait, what?” Quickly getting over the shock from seeing him, you paused your motions to give Mark your full attention. “What happened?”

He let out a contented laugh, not knowing where to start. “Well actually, she was the one who wanted to see me first. Jinyoung said that she was waiting for me to finish my shift, so I figured I’d settle this once and for all. So I go and see her when I’m done and she just has the sorriest look on her face, but we both know that anyone can see right through her, right? But I don’t say anything about it and I just let her say her piece, and she goes into this sob story about how when she saw us at the party—by the way, remind me to kill Bambam for inviting her, he really thought we were on ‘good terms,’ oh please—but yeah, when she saw us at the party, it totally ‘broke her’ and she admits that she made a mistake and if she could redo it all over again, she would have never cheated. And then she went on to saying how she hopes we could get back together again because she misses me and promises to be better to me and blah blah blah.” Mark finished with a mock gag.

You blinked. “...And then what happened?”

He looked at you with a self-satisfied smirk. “In the end, I thanked her. I thanked her for ending things because I finally got to see her for who she really was—a lying witch who thought of no one else’s feelings but her own. Then I kindly told her to stay away from me and my friends unless she wanted things to turn ugly really fast.”

“Wow Mark...sounds like you really got over your fear of confrontation. Congrats...” You wanted to say more, but all you think about was how soft his lips looked today.

“Yeah, so I thought I’d come over today since I have some time and you’re closing up. What are you feeling for dinner? We’re celebrating.”

“What?” You realized he wasn’t asking if he could take you out but it was already assumed.

Mark nodded. “I owe you remember? I wouldn’t have been able to get her off my back if it weren’t for you. You also haven’t responded to any of my texts this week asking if you wanted to do dinner, so I for sure need to treat you tonight.”

“Right...”

“And we just need to catch up. I haven’t spoken to you in a week. What have I missed?”

You grimaced slightly to yourself. So he had noticed your silence.

“Mark,” you sighed, moving around the counter so you were standing next to him. Now was probably the right time to talk about this before the little courage you possessed completely slipped away from you. “You don’t need to treat me to dinner anymore.”

He looked at you with a perplexed expression. “What do you mean? But I owe—”

“You don’t owe me anything anymore,” you say with a sad smile. “You got what you wanted. You finally got her off your back and I’m pretty sure all of your admirers know not to even try anymore. It’s done.”

His lips quirked thoughtfully. “So you’re saying—”

“—that there’s no point in fake dating anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to read his expression amid the newfound uncomfortable silence, you moved to go back behind the counter, ready to mumble an excuse about how you were tired and could do dinner another time when you felt him tug you back by the arm.

“Then I guess now I can start taking you on real proper dates.”

You stared at his hold on your arm before averting your gaze to his face, scanning his expression for any sign of insincerity. His eyes held a certain fondness towards you, falsity nowhere in sight.

“Wait, are you saying—”

Mark let out an amused chuckle at your confusion matching his earlier. “I guess you haven’t noticed yet, but then again, you were never one to pick up on what’s right in front of you, much less subtle hints.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know—”

“I’ll have you know that I have completely fallen for you and there’s no way I’m getting back up.”

As your eyes grew wider at the confession, so did Mark’s grin at your expression.

So cute.

“Are you serious?”

He nodded.

“B-but it was just for show and we’ve always just been friends—I didn’t think-I just thought—but you were so good at acting—was that why at the party...you were being weird—”

“Some guys were trying to hit on you and I had to let them know who you belonged to,” Mark answered easily with a smirk, clearly enjoying watching your mind short-circuit before him.

“But then that kiss—”

“—only made me realize that I wished I kissed you sooner.”

You stared at Mark for a moment, completely at a loss for words and ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks. Mark might as well have been speaking to you in a foreign language—nothing coming out of his mouth was making sense.

“Mark, I swear if you’re joking around right now...if you’re joking, I’m gonna kill you.”

“I’m only joking if you don’t feel the same way about me,” Mark confessed, his smirk reverting back to the shy smile you knew all too well. “But I really hope you do because I’m crazy about you and being your fake boyfriend for over a month only confirmed how much I want to be it for real.”

Mark watched as you chewed on your lip, a habit of yours when you were really think hard about something.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

He gave a resigned nod, looking down at his feet. “I understa—”

“Over dinner. Tonight.”

His head shot up immediately, smile growing wider by the second. “Really?”

You reached up to his face, playfully patting him on the cheek. “You owe me, remember?”

Mark nodded in excitement before shooting you a wink.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

You inwardly groaned and rolled your eyes. “I told you I hated pet names, yet you still do it.”

Before you could walk away in mock disgust, Mark quickly pulled you back again, your face instantly landing on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your back.

“Because you let me.”

As you looked up and received a surprise kiss to your nose from Mark, you realized you would let him for the rest of your life.

——

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 fics #mark tuan #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fics #got7 fake dating au #fake dating au #got7 fakedating!au #fakedating!au

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mcarfield · 6 years ago

Text

This really should have been proofread more but I just had to submit this ridiculous mess of a fic. Apparently Margot Robbie is married, so just pretend in this universe she’s not and it would make sense for James to be jealous of her.

oh my god ARE YOU A NEW FIC-WRITING ANON? OMG YOU GUYS, you are all just... you are all so marvelously talented and wonderful, and THE FANON YOU GUYS ARE DROPPING IS KILLING ME. I shrieked at like 8 different parts of this oh my god??? THE KILLER LINES IN THIS. ANDREW’S SWEET CLUELESS POV OH MY SUMMER CHILD. SAOIRSE. THE JEALOUSY. JAMES’S ANDREW IMPRESSION. JAMES WORKING THAT TUXEDO. THE HOTNESS. God, anon, you have just killed me with this. i love it (and you) so much.

In some bizarre twist of fate, Under the Silver Lake has the same release date as Mary Queen of Scots, meaning Andrew and James are in LA at the same time, for premieres and press junkets and all the bells and whistles, making it all feel like some extremely lucky serendipitous week for Andrew, though it won’t feel like that until later.

He arrives a few weeks before the premiere and tries to spend that time catching up with people and not wishing he was just in New York in his actual apartment and not this sterile temporary one he finds himself in, pretending not to want to text James to see if he wants to get coffee. He’s sure James is very busy and probably not even in LA yet, spending as much time as he can outside of the city Andrew knows he hates. And besides, they’ve spoken only sporadically since Angels closed and Andrew still isn’t certain if they’re even friends.

Ten days before the premiere, Andrew calls his agents and his publicist and tries to get them to get him into the Mary Queen of Scots premiere without sounding like a total diva. They use the influence Andrew knows he holds but tries to ignore and wiggle him in.

Which is how he ends up dateless, standing at the edge of a red carpet and looking at James at the step-and-repeat, realizing that he most certainly does not want to be friends with James.

James is wearing a black tuxedo, his air coifed but not slicked back, smiling half-heartedly at the photographers before him. His hands are shoved in his pockets and he looks only a quarter of how uncomfortable Andrew knows he feels. And Andrew’s breath catches in his throat, his lips parting and forming a small O, and suddenly, his heart is racing too fast and all he wants is to close the cavernous space that’s settled between them since James left New York in July.

“Oh, fuck,” says Andrew under his breath. His publicist ignores him, shuffling him toward the cameras since he clearly has no control over his mental or physical faculties anymore.

He likes James. He likes James. He spent two years pretending to be his boyfriend and almost five months after the show has closed, he’s hit with the soul-crushing realization that he’d quite like to kiss him again, as Andrew kissing James, not Prior kissing Louis. He feels suddenly weightless and adrift, moving across the Red Carpet, smiling and waving at those he knows. His publicist deposits him by some reporters and he snaps himself to attention, putting on his polite and friendly interview persona, shoving any thoughts of James to the back of his mind. His short, dizzying realization is gone as quickly as it came.

Four interviews later, he steps back and his publicist is asking him a question, something about if he’s all right since he’s usually quite self-sufficient at these things, but all Andrew can hear is rushing in his ears and that weightless feeling is back because James has caught sight of him.

He looks startled at the sight of Andrew, frowning as if he doesn’t trust his eyes. There’s definitely something else in James’s eyes, but Andrew can’t place it, and James smooths his features into a wide, friendly grin before making his way through the crowd toward him.

“You didn’t say you were coming,” says James as he approaches him, putting his arms out for a hug. Andrew reciprocates, making sure he doesn’t do anything stupid like inhale James’s scent or linger too long.

“Surprise!” he says, because he’s not certain of what else to say. “I wriggled my way in last week, I doubt they were overjoyed about it.”

“I’m sure they had a conniption when they found out Spiderman was coming,” says James with a teasing grin.

“Everyone’s second favorite Spiderman,” Andrew corrects, and if he weren’t himself and weren’t able to hit just the right tone of humor, it would have come out depressingly self-deprecating.

“Not mine,” says James, and Andrew feels a rush of warmth toward him. Oh no. “Tom Holland who?”

“You’re a darling,” says Andrew, reaching out to put a hand over James’s heart before he can stop himself. James is looking at him funny and Andrew pulls his arm away quickly—though if he hadn’t, he would have felt the way James’s heart picked up the pace. Andrew feels the sudden urge to apologize, though that would make it all worse, he thinks. “I’m here for Silver Lake. In LA,” he says lamely.

James opens his mouth to respond, but he’s interrupted by the appearance of Saoirse at his shoulder.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” she says, pulling Andrew into a hug. “Hello, James! Andrew, why didn’t you say?”

“Last minute thing,” he says with a wave of his hand.

“I’m so happy I’ve seen you two, I had to escape the vultures,” she says under her breath with a glance toward the photographers. “Do you two know each other?”

“Oh, yes,” they say in unison and inexplicably, Andrew flushes red.

“We were in Angels in America together,” James explains.

“My god, that’s right!” says Saoirse, covering her mouth with her hand. “I saw it at the beginning of the National run, I’d completely forgotten!” There’s a pause, and then: “Oh, you two were brilliant.”

“Thanks,” they say at the same time, looking at each other and chuckling.

“You were nominated for Tonys, right?” she asks, looking between them.

“Andrew was, I wasn’t,” replies James.

“What?” Saoirse says, aghast. “You weren’t nominated?”

“No,” says James.

“Well that’s bullshit!” she says, turning to Andrew.

“I know,” he says. “I threatened to withdraw when we found out.“

“You did not,” Saoirse says with a laugh.

“He did,” says James. “We all went out for drinks to celebrate and he had one too many—“

“Excuse you, I was completely sober,” Andrew says, faux-affronted.

“—And he got up to make a speech about how grateful he was to be a part of something like this and how he just loved us all dearly…” says James, smiling through his words.

“Oh, that’s so sweet!”

“It was, but then he turned to Nathan and Denise and said he was very happy and proud of them and they completely deserved it except ‘James McArdle was robbed. What is the point of awards if they don’t even nominate the right people?’” James says in a quite accurate impression of Andrew’s voice, looking at Andrew with his eyes dancing. “He said something about how I was the next Mark Rylance and people teared up, his drunken speech was so good.”

“I didn’t say all that…” says Andrew, blushing again. Had he really been that obvious? How could he have not seen this before?

“You did and it was lovely,” says James, nudging him with a grin.

“Well, he’s right,” says Saoirse. “I’m appalled you weren’t nominated.”

“We all were,” says Andrew and he beams at James, who returns the expression. When he looks back to Saoirse, she’s studying him with a look of dawning realization. He looks away quickly.

James is pulled away by someone not long after but Saoirse stays and it only takes her two minutes until she brings it up.

“So,” she says, “James, huh?”

“Don’t,” Andrew says, fixing her with a look. Saoirse looks at him with a look so piercing, he has to look away, except he catches sight of James laughing raucously with Jack Lowdon and narrows his eyes. Saoirse giggles. “What?”

“You’re so transparent,” she says.

“I am not!”

“You so are,” she says. “You look like you want to take Jack apart limb from limb. And also you look at James like the sun shines out of his arse.”

“I do not!”

“Andrew, I adore you, but you wear your heart on your sleeve. Besides, I think it’s adorable.”

“He’s straight,” he says glumly. James has fallen into another peal of laughter at something Jack has said. Saoirse snorts.

“So were you not long ago,” she points out.

“Even if he were into men, I bet he’d rather be with Jack Lowdon before me,” he says.

“Tell me, are you pretending to be the lead in a romantic comedy right now, or are you actually that dramatic?” she asks.

“Ha ha.”

“Look, I’ve got to go mingle, it’s my movie and all. But for what it’s worth, I think he likes you back. You should have seen his face when he saw you,” says Saoirse, and Andrew snaps his gaze back to her, making her smother a laugh. “Talk to him. And call me, we should get coffee sometime soon.”

Andrew doesn’t see James until later, not until one of the many afterparties. It’s past one am now, and he can feel himself getting tired of it already. He had good fun talking to Margot for a bit, but she’s getting pulled away by someone else and just as he’s contemplating leaving, James appears before him, hair slightly disheveled in the way it is when James is drinking.

“I’ve been looking for you!” he says over the music and Andrew hates that he feels excited at this new information.

“Having fun?” he asks and James shrugs.

“You know how I feel about these things,” he says.

“Liar,” says Andrew with a smirk. “You love the afterparties.”

“All right, only sometimes,” James allows. He hesitates as if he’s not sure he wants to say what he’s going to say next. “I saw you talking to Margot.”

“Yeah, she’s brilliant,” says Andrew, suddenly lost and unsure why James has brought her up. James smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Did you like working with her?”

James nods but doesn’t say anything other than humming his assent, making Andrew even more confused.

“She’s really sweet,” Andrew says when James stays silent. He has no idea what James is thinking right now and is completely lost as to what to say. James nods and smiles again, but it’s even less genuine than before. Andrew studies him carefully.

“Stop looking at me like that,” says James, breaking the silence. Andrew blinks at him.

“Like what?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.

“Like…” James snaps his mouth shut and lets out a harried sort of sigh. He gestures with his hand at Andrew’s face, as if that answers the question.

“What?”

“Just—“ James says but breaks off again, looking impatient with himself. “If you keep looking at me like that I’m going to kiss you and I don’t think anyone wants that.”

Something in Andrew’s brain short-circuits and he can’t come up with two words to string together in response. He just blinks at James again, opening and closing his mouth over and over.

“Don’t say anything,” says James after a while. “We’ll just…I’ll walk away and pretend I didn’t just say that and you can just…forget it.”

“Forget it,” Andrew repeats blankly.

“It’d be for the best, wouldn’t it?” asks James.

“Define best,” says Andrew and confusion flickers across James’s face. “I don’t think it’d be for the best. I think what would be for the best would be, quite plainly, if you took me into one of those rooms upstairs and kissed me and let me do a whole lot more to you.”

James gapes at him.

“You…?”

“I do,” Andrew says, nodding. He feels as though his heart is going to give out as he watches James carefully.

“Well, that decides that,” says James with a quick nod. He grabs Andrew’s hand in his and tugs him through the crowd. Andrew can’t help it, his face cracks open with a wide grin as he follows James out of the room. Instead of taking him towards where the rooms are, James makes a beeline for the front lobby and out the door.

“Where are we…” Andrew trails off when they come to a stop on the curb.

“What’s your address?” asks James quickly, turning to him. He’s got a rideshare app open on his phone because this is LA and there isn’t a subway or cabs roaming the streets but for once in his life, Andrew wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He gives his address to James, who orders the car and they stand there on the curb, an inch between them and dying to touch each other, even chastely.

James’s hand brushes against Andrew’s as they wait and he sends Andrew a sidelong look, letting him know it was intentional.

It only gets worse in the car, Andrew’s hand resting on the seat half a foot from James’s. He glances at James every now and then and James returns his grin before they both look out the window once more.

The space between them feels even more gaping than before, made larger with the weighty tension, though much less impassable. It feels so much worse, so much harder, knowing what it’s like to have James’s lips against his, even if it was on stage and in character. Even the recollection of lying in bed, tucked into James’s arms makes him dig his fingernails into his palms. If he turns to face James right now, if he even moves to talk to him, he’ll be wrecked and all the self-control he’s channelling right now will be thrown away.��

And so they sit in silence, both glancing at the other out of the corner of their eye and counting down the seconds until they get out of the car.

When they pull up, Andrew rockets out of the car, practically tripping over himself and James laughs. Andrew is about to snap a quick retort about being nice when he catches the look in James’s eye. It’s so fond that the words die on his lips and he finds himself softening.

It’s late enough that the street around them is completely deserted so Andrew throws caution to the wind and grabs ahold of James’s hand. James looks at him, startled, but squeezes his hand back and they walk into the building. The elevator doors are barely shut when Andrew turns to James, not yet sure of what to say but knowing he wants to say something.

Except James just shakes his head a bit, takes a step forward, and puts his hand on Andrew’s cheek. It’s like an electric shock travels through Andrew and he springs into action, leaning forward like a magnet is dragging him.

And then they’re kissing. They take a moment to adjust to each other, to reacclimatize to kissing each other and to adapt to what it feels like to kiss each other as themselves. And it feels like everything. Andrew sighs against him, his whole body softening into James’s as James opens his mouth just so to let Andrew in and Andrew could drown in this feeling. James’s arms are tight around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as the kiss deepens, drawing a low moan from Andrew’s lips.

Andrew pulls away, more from shock at how fucking good it feels to kiss James like this, and they both take a small step back.

“I…” Andrew starts but can’t seem to finish his sentence. James doesn’t say anything. Andrew pauses, thinking very quickly. “Fuck it,” he says and closes the space between them once more, pushing James against the wall of the elevator and kissing him fiercely. James responds in an instant, cupping Andrew’s cheeks as his tongue slides against his.

The elevator dings and they jump apart with a gasp. James chuckles—Andrew’s face must be laughably alarmed. There’s no one waiting at Andrew’s floor—blessedly—and they walk into the hallway, hand in hand to Andrew’s door.

James leans against the wall opposite his door as he digs in his pockets for his keys and Andrew pointedly doesn’t look at him, knowing the sight of James in a rumpled tux leaning against a wall is certain to sink him. He finally pulls his keys from his pocket and after several tries, gets the door open, nearly falling through it as he pushes it. James follows him in, remarkably calm and suave.

“Want a drink?” Andrew asks, flicking on the light.

“No,” says James, stepping towards him. Andrew takes a step backwards, toward his bedroom.

“Some food?” he asks, trying hard to school his features into something serious.

“No,” says James, mirroring Andrew’s steps towards the bedroom.

“A nap?”

“No,” says James, unable to stop his lips from turning upwards in a smile.

“What do you want?”

“Mmh, I think you know,” James says. They’ve entered the bedroom now and Andrew can feel his breath quicken. He tilts his head. “Should I spell it out for you?”

“A demonstration will suffice,” says Andrew and finally he pulls James’s lips back to his and they tumble to the bed. It’s messy and their noses knock into each other and Andrew nearly elbows James in the face as he tries to get his shirt off but Andrew has never felt this impatient to undress before. James is pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against his neck, surely leaving a mark for tomorrow. Andrew is about to say as much, or at least tease him a little, except now James has started to move down his chest, his lips dragging over Andrew’s skin as he moves lower and lower.

And later, when all is said and done, Andrew collapses against the pillows, spent and satiated.

“What the fuck,” he states, turning his head to face James, who grins widely at him.

“Happy?” asks James.

“Supremely,” he replies and shifts closer to kiss James gently.

“So,” James says when he pulls away. “Not straight?”

Andrew laughs, burying his head in his pillow.

“I should think not,” he says when he emerges. “You?”

“Decidedly not.”

“Good.” And he tugs Andrew in so he can kiss him again.

#mcarfield #mcarfield fic #long post #ahhhhhhhhhhhh #jfalksdjfajs;lsfasdf #ilu anons #submission

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gummibearyoongi · 7 years ago

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hold on, we’re going home | 3

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4

pairings: yoongi x reader

words: 3.4k

genre: smut, angst, fluff, romance

summary: After a night to celebrate the reclamation of Daegu from the hands of a rival mafia Jo-pok, Yoongi comes back to find that his wife has been kidnapped by them and held ransom for a very sinister and personal reason

a.k.a the mafia!au no one asked for

warnings: manic behavior, Jackson being crazy, Namjoon’s slightly an ass, partial nudity, violence, language

part 3: Let’s Go Home

Yoongi gazed at the screen with such intense concentration, that Jin, his teammate, gave him a confused look.

“Yoongi-ah, are you trying to absorb yourself into the video feed?” he asked, attempting to break the tension with a joking observation. Yoongi flashed him a dark glare, and Jin fell quiet. Yoongi was with Jin and his younger brother, Jungkook, in the main headquarters of the transport divisions. The security guard for the night was out ‘taking a walk’, enjoying the extra pocket money he now had. 500,000 won exactly.

If the police found a member of the Jo-pok meddling in government headquarters, they would use it as an excuse to crack down on the gangs. Yoongi had to play his cards right.

Jin squinted at the grainy camera feed and exclaimed at something. “Suga, look!”

Yoongi was startled, and took a closer look at the screen. Jin jabbed his finger at something in the corner, and he caught it. A car and a license plate.

He mentally exhaled a sigh of relief. They had finally found a lead.

Jungkook leaned forward, head tilting to the side. Yoongi could smell the cologne the two brothers wore, and it made his nose crinkle. He always thought Jin went overboard with his fashion choices, but he clearly hadn’t met his younger brother. Just shy out for college, Jungkook was nearly the same height as Jin, and held a magnetic presence like his brother. The truth was, they weren’t brothers by blood. Jungkook was adopted by the Kim family when he was only a baby, having lost his parents in a car crash. Jin’s mother took one look at him and decided that she couldn’t let him go. Jin had an older brother as well, but he was estranged from their activities. Jungkook filled the position as a little brother perfectly, and with the way how they both looked similar, no one could doubt that they weren’t real family.

They were both clad in long trench coats with turtlenecks. To anyone else, they would have appeared like rich students or classy young bankers; no one would suspect that they held body counts and blood on their hands. The only thing that marked them as Jo-pok was the small tattoo of a cross they sported under their left ear, easily hidden with a lock of hair. Yoongi had the same tattoo as well, prickling uncomfortably as a reminder of what was to come.

“Jin-hyung, run the car plate and see if we can come up with any matches,” Yoongi ordered, and Jin nodded, conversing in low tones with Jungkook as the younger man brought out a laptop from the side of his carry-on bag, setting it on the table and typing quickly. Yoongi waited, counting the broken tiles under his feet as he held his breath.

A pair of footsteps outside alerted the three men that they had company, and Yoongi thrusted his hand into the pocket of his coat, fingers gripping the handle of his .45. He saw from the corner of his eye the brothers following suit, their gazes locked on the door, anticipating bloodshed. It was only Namjoon who appeared, uncharacteristic frown deepening when he saw them in the room.

Yoongi exhaled and released his grip on the gun, rocking back on his heels slightly. “Joon. What are you doing here?”

Namjoon raised a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.” He sounded royally pissed. “I was expecting this to be on the low. Did you know I had to bribe Inspector Chae to get him to shut up? Some officers were starting to suspect when they saw our cars out here.”

“We already have a lead,” Yoongi argued, unperturbed by his leader’s stoic expression.

“You better watch your mouth, Min Yoongi,” Namjoon said coolly. To anyone, it would sound like a statement, but Yoongi knew it was a threat. He snapped his mouth shut and directed his glare to the floor.

“I’m sorry, leader.”

Namjoon sighed. For the second time tonight, he had to make a choice. “Yoongi, I know how much Y/N means to you, but I can’t have the Wang Jo-pok and the police on our tail. We just took back Daegu and I don’t want this distraction to make us lose that foothold.”

Namjoon was no longer that kind friend he met on the street who told him to be careful; he was the hardened young Jo-pok leader now.

Yoongi understood where his leader was coming from, but he couldn’t just abandon you. He folded his arms and leveled a surly look to Namjoon. “Leader, with all due respect, Y/N means more than that. If you were in my position, what would you do?”

“Yoongi, you misunderstand me,” Namjoon reiterated forcefully. “I’m not saying that Y/N isn’t worth it, I’m telling you to watch your fucking back. I can’t be the one to always save you–”

“Really, Namjoon?” Yoongi growled, taking everyone in the room by surprise. “I took care of you when your father passed away. I was by your side the whole time in Daegu. I sacrificed so much for you and you can’t even help me get my wife back?”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes, and Yoongi immediately regretted his outburst. Pin drop silence enveloped the four men, and he could sense Jin and Jungkook share a look. They weren’t as close to Namjoon as he was. Yoongi was more than just the young Kim leader’s right-hand man – he was his best friend. He could tell that the two brothers were uncomfortable and if it came to their leader’s orders, they couldn’t – wouldn’t – hesitate to put a bullet in his head.

The leader in question inhaled deeply, as if centering himself before he spoke. “I’m sorry, I forgot how much you’ve helped me. But, I wash my hands from this mission. It’s all on you. I can’t expand anymore manpower on this when I have the police and the Wangs to handle.”

He made to leave, but turned, looking as if he was struggling to say something. Instead, Namjoon shook his head and stalked out from the room, leaving the three men in stark silence, and his words unsaid.

Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the ice, as he swiveled the laptop screen towards Yoongi. “Hyung, I managed to track the car plate to a place in Gyeongju. It just passed the toll and shouldn’t be too far from here. If we leave now, we could still catch the interception signal.”

Yoongi nodded curtly. “Thanks, Jungkook.”

Jin shrugged. “Well, if you ever need backup, we don’t have anything to do.” The older brother looked towards the younger, and he just nodded.

“I’d rather fight than play Overwatch,” Jungkook admitted.

“Aish Kook, that’s cause your account got suspended again,” Jin jabbed, and his younger brother flushed.

“I could use the help,” Yoongi accepted, cutting short their bickering and gestured with his chin towards the door. “Load up and I’ll meet you at the park and ride before the highway.”

Jin seemed to be ruminating on something, and he surrendered to the curiosity. “Yoongi-ah. What about Namjoon?”

Yoongi’s jaw tightened in annoyance. “You heard him. He doesn’t care what happens as long as we don’t alert the police and directly fight the Wangs.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. “But, we will be fighting the Wangs. We don’t know how many men are in this abduction case.”

“We won’t attack yet,” Yoongi said. “We’ll check their fortifications and see how many men they have. Strategy is the key here.” He noted how quiet Jungkook was and took pity on the kid. He had just turned twenty, and Yoongi remembered how lost he had been at that age. That was before he met you, a serendipitous meeting in Ikea when you accidentally bumped into him and he fell in love with you the moment you bowed in mortification at your clumsiness.

“You could always go back and play Overwatch,” Yoongi commented, giving him an out.

Jin agreed with the younger man. “Yah. You don’t have to if you don’t want, Kookie.”

To their combined surprise, Jungkook scoffed. “Overwatch ain’t got nothing on the real thing.”

Yoongi spared him a smirk, and walked out the room, making sure to avoid any wandering eyes that could be lingering around. Jin and Jungkook followed behind, closing the door inconspicuously, as they made their way to the car park.

He entered the car with purpose, determined to find you. I’m coming, baby.

“Are you sure this is where her signal ended?” Yoongi demanded.

“I’m pretty sure,” Jungkook said, as he peered back at the computer screen, making sure that he had pinpointed the right place where he suspected you were being kept. Forty minutes of driving had led them to this unspecified area. Yoongi glanced at the warehouse looming in front of him, a dull grey that blended ominously with its surroundings. The quiet was starting to unnerve him, and he kept his attention peeled at the front door, as if anticipating that someone might walk through. The wind whistled through the crack of the car window in a high pitch, whipping the front of his bangs into casual disarray.

Jin was patting himself down, checking on his guns and ammo. Jungkook was peering through a pair of binoculars, documenting every bit of movement he could find under his breath.

“I see two people. One’s on a chair and the other’s standing.”

Yoongi swiped the binoculars from him as he trained his eyes on the scene. He could only make out the silhouette of those two people, and it appeared that the younger man was right. “It could be anyone,” he mumbled, and darted his gaze above the floors, but there didn’t seem to be any other signs of life.

“It looks like there’s only those two,” he announced, and Jin snorted.

“Two people? Sounds like a piece of cake.”

Yoongi mashed his lips together. He knew two people was a lucky shot, but he had to be careful. One of those could be you, and he didn’t want to accidentally maim his own wife.

“Hyung, there are three exits around the perimeter,” Jungkook informed. “We can each take one and go in at the same time. It would lead us to the main unit where we saw those two figures.”

“Good call.” The youngest man was proving to be an asset, and even Jin was impressed.

Yoongi loaded his pockets with ammo and clutched his trusty .45 Glock close, determined not to make a sound as he let the car door close on itself. The two brothers kept near to him, each of them taking one route. Yoongi tested the door he was assigned to, and noticed that the locks were rusted and old. It didn’t take much to break it, the chains slithering down to the ground with a dull thud, coiling around his feet like a dead snake.

Through the shared feed, he heard Jungkook muttering that he was in, with Jin giving his second confirmation.

“The locks are pretty old,” Jin mumbled.

“No kidding,” Jungkook scoffed. “This whole place looks like it’s going to collapse on itself.”

Yoongi stayed alert for a sign of you, and when he heard a stuttering cough from behind the corner, he knew he had found you.

“I hear someone,” he said.

“I do, too,” Jin whispered, “Someone’s coughing.”

“…Y-yes.”

Yoongi’s blood boiled, and he almost burst from his hiding place, the sound of your hoarse voice filling him with dread and anger so potent that he wanted to attack instantly; damn all consequences.

“I found her,” he breathed. You choked back a sob, and the sound pierced through his chest, breaking his heart.

“…please…”

The young Jo-pok member couldn’t take it anymore. He switched his safety off, the clicking sound loud in the cavernous room and emerged from his hiding place, wearing a terrifying glare like an angel of destruction.

It wasn’t a pleasant experience being under Jackson’s care. Your ex was pushy, hovering over you as he forced you to drink, his reasoning being that your lips looked ‘a little too dry’. He sighed for the third time this evening and fixed you with a glare.

“I swear Y/N, it’s like you’re trying to make this intentionally hard for yourself,” he murmured, eyes flashing dangerously.

He shoved the bottle into your mouth and clamped down on your throat, forcing you to drink until you choked, head jerking forward and sputtering water onto the cement floor, coughing violently to expel the water from your lungs. You wheezed and blinked tears from your eyes, attempting to keep him in sight in case he tries another time.

Jackson kneeled and gently wiped the water from your upper lip. “See? It wasn’t that bad, wasn’t it, jagi?”

You narrowed your eyes, throat raw and voice hollow as you said, “Y-yes.”

A satisfied smile broke across his face, and he stood up, pleased. “We’re getting on well. Are you hungry?”

Afraid that he was going to shove food down your throat, you nodded, eyes wide and beseeching.

“Okay,” he chuckled, and walked behind you, where you heard a bag unzipping and the sound of a wrapper crunching. He appeared once more, and fed you bits of a sweet muffin, making sure to wipe your lips after each bite. You kept your eyes down, trying not to let the tears fall as you swallowed every bitter morsel of food he placed in your mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, leaning in close. You shut your eyes when he pressed a kiss onto your lips. It made you feel nothing, and all you wanted was to lash out at him, but you kept your anger under wraps. There wasn’t any use making him angry only to put yourself in danger.

He released your lips and your whispered, “please,” sounded pathetic even to your own ears.

A loud clicking sound ricocheted across the room, and you flinched. Jackson snapped to his feet, and you glanced up to find a familiar figure making his way across the floor to you, gaze blazing with anger.

Your mouth fell open and a relieved cry escaped your throat. “Yoongi!”

It was a flurry of movement that left you disorientated, before you felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed to your head. Jackson moved like the snake his Jo-pok represented, and turned the tides quickly.

Yoongi lowered his weapon, throwing Jackson a glare that could incinerate him from that distance. You whimpered when the barrel dug deeper into your temple, and your breath stuttered when he switched the safety off.

“Take one more step close, and I’ll blow her brains out,” he warned.

“Jackson Wang,” Yoongi grunted.

He looked to your husband, and back to you, eyes widening in shock. “Fuck Y/N, you didn’t tell me you were married to another Jo-pok member.”

You merely leveled him a glare.

“Well, isn’t this just perfect,” Jackson said, with a grin on the verge of a maniacal breakdown. He jerked his gaze back to Yoongi, who was muttering something under his breath.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, instead of replying to Jackson.

Jackson clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “One more time you talk to her like I’m not here and I’ll have you licking her blood from the floor.”

The threat was enough for Yoongi to pay him attention. “What the fuck do you want?”

Jackson seemed to be placing Yoongi from somewhere, and his gaze sparked with recognition. “Ah, yes. I know why you look so familiar. You’re Namjoon’s bitch, aren’t you? The one that asks, ‘how high?’ when he tells you to jump. Suga.”

Yoongi bristled, raising his gun. “You talk big yourself for a bastard who doesn’t have a leader.”

Jackson’s eyes flashed. “I quite remember your leader decapitating his head. But, if you ever make it out alive, let Namjoon know that I give him my thanks. It was the fastest promotion I have ever gotten in my life.”

Yoongi’s listless gaze narrowed with surprise. “You’re the new Jo-pok leader?”

The other man’s grin grew lazy. “Killing my brother wasn’t really the best idea, huh?”

You understood that this was big news. It was no secret that the second Wang brother was a little unhinged, and that Jackson’s older brother was the diplomat who wouldn’t shed blood if territories were respected. Now with his death, it was a war brewing. One wrong move would bring the two Jo-poks to a head. You prayed that Yoongi would make a calculated decision.

“Why my wife?” he growled.

“Oh, didn’t she tell you?” Jackson drawled, sounding comically surprised. “She was married to me before. I’m merely recollecting what was mine.”

You could hear Yoongi’s breath stuttering, and you quickly shook your head. “N-No! It’s not—he’s not telling the truth—”

The sharp dig of the barrel rendered you mute, and you communicated with your eyes, hoping that your husband would understand.

“You know what they say, Suga,” he started, with a cocky smirk. “One man should never touch another man’s whore.”

That seemed to be the signal, as two more figures appeared on the scene. A click of a gun and there was a loud explosion, Jackson’s body crumpling to the ground, as warm blood splattered onto your face, hot and steaming, copper scent filling your nose. You screamed, eyes squeezing shut instinctively, as you heard a scuffle in front of you.

Yoongi was the first to reach you, as he cupped your face, wiping the blood from your cheek. “Baby, baby, it’s me,” he breathed, and you opened your eyes, whimpering when you saw that he was unharmed.

He worked quickly on the ropes binding you, and the moment you were free, you launched yourself into his arms.

“B-baby, you can’t b-believe him. W-we broke up ages ago and h-he was lying,” you tried to explain between sobs. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face in your hair.

“Jagi, jagi,” he whispered repeatedly, running his hands down your back, trying to absorb as much of you as possible.

You lifted his face and smash your mouth on his, the kiss as desperate as it was jubilant. Yoongi held you like you were a porcelain doll, careful not to break you into pieces.

A cough came from behind, and you were both reminded that you weren’t alone. You pulled back first, caressing his face, as you drew in a shuddering breath.

Yoongi glanced past your shoulders, and you turned your head. You only recognized Jin from your husband’s group of friends, but you didn’t know who the other man was.

He helped you up, and when he saw that you were almost half naked, unzipped his bomber jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. The two other men turned their gazes away out of respect, and when you were decently dressed, they looked towards you, assessing you for any injuries.

“Y/N,” Jin said with a bright smile, like there wasn’t a man bleeding on the ground in front of him. “Have you met my younger brother? Jungkook, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jungkook.”

You meet the younger man’s gaze and nodded your greetings. He gave you an awkward wave.

“Okay, now back to the task at hand – is he dead?” Jin said, bracing himself on one knee as he pressed two fingers onto Jackson’s pulse. There was a ghastly wound on his right shoulder where the bullet had pierced through, leaking blood onto the floor.

“He’s still alive,” Jin grunted, rolling his eyes. “Great shot, Yoongi.”

Your husband raised a brow. “You heard Namjoon. We don’t want a turf war on our hands.”

“I think it was a good shot,” Jungkook commented, shrugging.

“Should we call the police?” you asked, pensively gazing at your ex.

“No,” Yoongi said, a little too quickly. “We should just leave him here. He’ll survive on his own.”

Jin pursed his lips and nodded. “Sounds like a good plan.”

“Should we let them know that it was us?”

Yoongi rummaged in his jeans pocket until he found a crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it out and placing it on Jackson’s rising chest. It was the Wang clan’s insignia, placed into an almost comical way on their leader’s unconscious body.

You pressed yourself closer to Yoongi, and he drew you into his side.

“Come on, jagi,” he said, sounding utterly exhausted. “Let’s go home.”

You have never been more relieved in your whole life at the word ‘home.’

A/N: Things will be heating up in the next chapter, so stay tuned 😉😉

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bokehrentals · 3 years ago

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20 years of artemis camera stabilizer systems

Celebrating the 20thanniversary of artemis camera stabilization technology, now part of the ARRI product family, and Arri Signature Primes its contributions to creative image making. In 2021 artemis celebrates 20 years of innovation in the field of camera stabilization technology. For the last five of those 20 years, artemis has been part of the ARRI product family, during which time it has reached new heights and been embraced by some of the world’s top filmmakers. The flagship product is TRINITY, the first hybrid camera stabilizer to combine classic mechanical stabilization with advanced active electronic stabilization. Complementing TRINITY are artemis vests and spring arms—all part of a complete and ever-growing system.

The driving force behind the development and success of artemis is Curt O. Schaller BVK, SOA, who is now Product Manager for Camera Stabilizer Systems at ARRI in Munich. Back in 1998, Curt was tinkering with his first artemis model and trying to generate interest in the industry. A key moment came when he took his handiwork to the Showbiz expo in New York that year, and was approached by Michiyo Funayama, who today, by a twist of fate, also works for ARRI—as a Local Business Development Manager at ARRI Japan.

In 2000 artemis was acquired by the German grip company Sachtler, and with the help of Sachtler engineers, the system was made ready for its full market launch at NAB 2001. Not only was artemis the first complete system of arm, vest, and rig manufactured in Europe, it was the first stabilizer designed for HD digital cinematography globally, using a patented HD wiring loom. Efficient battery management was also critical, since an HD camera drew around four times the power of a 16 mm film camera.

This HD capability, as well as the attributes Michiyo had recognized at Showbiz, helped artemis establish itself in the Japanese broadcast market, which was leading the world with HD capture. In collaboration with Japanese broadcaster NHK, artemis rigs were used at the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens.

That same year, with the system gaining greater traction in Europe, a DP/camera operator named Igor Savatovic SOA took notice: “In 2004 I went to IBC to buy my first big stabilizer rig,” he says. “I saw Curt on his booth with the artemis and asked if I could try it out, and immediately he started putting the vest on me! The thing I remember is that he completely disassembled it first, and then adjusted it strap by strap as he helped me put it on. Nobody at any of the other manufacturers’ booths had done that, and for the first time in my life I felt completely comfortable carrying a rig. Having used his artemis rig for a decade, Igor Savatovic was shown TRINITY when it was still a prototype, but it was such a new concept that for a while he wasn’t convinced. Eventually, though, he decided he had to have one. “I had been operating for 20 years and it still made me happy, it’s all I want to do,” he says. “If you ask me, the last great job in the industry got an upgrade when TRINITY came along. I moved to Dubai eight years ago and working here has really proved the reliability of artemis and TRINITY. Sand gets into every part of the system, you just can’t prevent it, but the TRINITY has proved itself in all situations as a reliable tool.” Arri Alexa Mini Lf Rentals - ESPN was the first broadcaster in the United States to produce sports programming in HD, and artemis started to gain utilization on the east coast. An early adopter in this market was operator Frédéric Chamberland SOC, in fact he was the first North American to buy the complete artemis system. “It was my very first rig and one of the biggest purchases of my life at that point,” says Frédéric. “Naturally I was anxious about making such an investment without having seen the artemis in action, but I remember speaking to Curt on the phone and he answered all my questions. I bought the rig and am still operating an artemis TRINITY system today, with beautiful results. Curt has always stood by his products and I have to thank him for creating a system that evolves with the operator, and not the opposite.”

At the IBC show of 2015, the new artemis TRINITY stabilizer, developed in cooperation with FoMa Systems, caught ARRI’s attention and Curt found himself hosting a crowd of ARRI senior managers and engineers at the Sachtler booth. At the same show, ARRI was showcasing its new ALEXA Mini camera, which was a perfect companion for TRINITY, so the timing was serendipitous. ARRI entered into negotiations with Sachtler to acquire the artemis product line, and the deal was finalized in time for ARRI to display TRINITY as an ARRI product at NAB 2016.

Thanks to the partnership with FoMa, extraordinary products such as the ARRI SRH-3 and the SRH-360, as well as the high-performance external wireless modules ERM, have emerged over the past five years. The cooperation between ARRI and FoMa focuses on maximum functionality, with optimized workflows, in order to perfectly master the increasingly complex requirements of the cine and broadcast industry in the future.

In residence at ARRI, artemis has influenced other developments, such as the ARRI SAM plates and the decision to construct ARRI Signature Prime lens housings from magnesium to make them as lightweight as possible. Expertise in efficient battery management has also benefitted ARRI’s wider product line. All in all, artemis’ move to ARRI has been constructive for both parties. “ARRI has brought artemis to a level that nobody else could have,” says Curt. “We’re part of a bigger team here—a collection of smart people that you can talk to and collaborate with.” From its earliest days, artemis has been committed to education, not just sales, and always ran about six training sessions per year. The 20thanniversary is a celebration of the results of that training and assistance as much as of the products themselves. Many operators were helped into the industry by artemis, and have stayed loyal to the brand throughout their careers. This is a point of pride shared by ARRI, which also forges career-long relationships with filmmakers and nurtures emerging talent through the ARRI Academy and countless local initiatives worldwide.

Happy anniversary, artemis!

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5lbsofsmarties · 7 years ago

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We Go Together: Trevor Collins

@karlitabi-rrito commissioned me to write this for her. Word Count: 1,832

There had been some sort of kerfuffle in the Achievement Hunter office first thing that morning about who said they would be on the Off Topic Podcast and who wouldn’t, couldn’t, and didn’t want to. After quite a bit of arguing and only ending up with Michael, Gavin, and Ryan, you volunteered yourself. You’d never done the podcast before but if it would get them all to shut up for a while you were more than happy to offer your services – for the good of the office.

So, that is how you found yourself sitting between Michael and Gavin, your heart nearly beating out of your chest, as the podcast started.

“Do you know what I just found out like last week?” Michael asked before he took a long sip from his beer glass after the intros were finished. There were hums of acknowledgement in return, one of which came from you as you turned around to get yourself a drink. “I found out that Y/N and Trevor have known each other for like eight years,” he continued, sounding a bit more than shocked at the revelation. You glanced over your shoulder as you pulled the beer tap to see the camera was on you.

With a laugh, you shook your head and turned off the tap to return to your seat.

Gavin gave you a strange look, “How the hell have you and Trecs known each other for that long?”

“Technically, we’ve known each other longer but we first met in person when we were like eighteen,” you started to say, shrugging a shoulder.

Your answer seemed to only confuse Gavin more, and you could only really laugh at the expression on his face. “We talked a lot on the Rooster Teeth site before we ever really met. At some point, we exchanged like, emails and Skype and phone numbers… and then we both went to college. He went to Purdue and I went to Michigan. We realized we were only like four hours away instead of states away like before so we met up one weekend and the rest, as they say, is history,” you explained at length.

You took a sip of beer and Gavin looked like he was thinking rather hard about something.

“Did he like to cum in own his mouth then, too?”

You couldn’t hold the beer in your mouth and spit it across the table as you laughed loudly and clapped a hand against your chest.

“I’m so sorry, Trevor,” you laughed, accepting a paper towel from Ryan to clean up the table and yourself, “I love you! Don’t be mad at me.”

Ryan held up a hand in an attempt to get your attention. “Wait, wait, wait,” he started, leaning forward on his stool, “So the two of you have been friends for like ten years, and now work for the same company. Was this like some sort of plan? How did that happen?”

“After college, Trevor traveled around a lot for fun and work… I went to Chicago with some friends for work. We were both really active in the community and stuff; both of us sent in applications on a whim and didn’t tell the other. But we both interviewed and I don’t know. Geoff hired us. We’re kind of a packaged deal, me and Trev,” you explained, shrugging in a sort of non-committal sense.

It was really serendipitous that the two of you applied and were hired around the same time. When you’d told each other the good news, you were more than shocked but extremely happy. You were going to have your best friend in the world with you in a new city and at a new job – you really could not ask for a better opportunity. It still sort of amazed you that even after nearly three years of working at Achievement Hunter that you and Trevor were still best friends and did pretty much everything together.

“Ay yo, Treyco,” you yelled obnoxiously as you stepped into your shared apartment.

It was quiet and still for a moment before you heard something clattering and falling down the hall towards the office area. You chose to let him sort himself out and headed into the kitchen to put away the groceries you had bought on your way home from work. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Trevor emerge in the kitchen doorway and you just grinned a little to yourself.

“Since you didn’t go to the store when it was your turn and I had to I bought all the shit I like and you can suck it up,” you teased, flashing him a smile as you started to put all of the food away.

Trevor let out a small groan, “But Y/N… I was gonna go tomorrow.”

“Okay but what would we eat tonight? Because I am not eating take out again, Trevor Collins. I need real food – sustenance,” you said, pointing a finger at him.

For a moment, Trevor shuffled his feet against the laminate floor of the kitchen before he started to slink over to you. “Y/N…” he murmured, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to hug you tight, “I may have already ordered dinner.”

You groaned and dropped the bag of baby carrots to the counter, “God damn it, Trevor.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I had a moment of weakness,” Trevor explained, holding you tighter and resting his chin on your shoulder, “I really wanted Chinese for dinner like… I was going to die if I didn’t have it. Would you have wanted that? For me to die?”

You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him off of you, “Maybe.”

It only took a few blinks of your eyes to get adjusted to the dark of your bedroom as you laid yourself down on the bed; as soon as you got comfortable, though, you suddenly found yourself wide awake. You huffed softly and groaned as you lightly kicked your feet under the sheets, determined to fall asleep. It’d been a while since you’d gotten a really good night of sleep and it was starting to wear on you.

You stretched a hand out to grope around your bedside table for your phone and squinted at the time. “Two?” you grumbled. You had tried to stay up as late as you could in an attempt to force yourself to fall asleep; at the point, you weren’t sure it was going to work.

With another low groan, you tossed your sheets off and got up out of bed; maybe you could watch some Netflix in the living room, or play some Stardew Valley to lull yourself to sleep. You shuffled yourself out to the living room and sighed softly when you spotted Trevor sitting on the sofa with his laptop. “Why are you still awake?” you asked, grabbing a throw blanket off of the back of the arm chair.

Trevor jumped at the sound of your voice and blinked back at you, the blue light of his computer screen making the dark circles under his eyes look even more prominent. He looked at the corner of the screen to see the time before glancing back at you. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, a soft laugh in his tone.

You shrugged and wrapped the blanket around you, “Couldn’t sleep; brain didn’t want to shut up.”

A hum and a nod was all the response you got at first; but, Trevor moved his laptop to the coffee table and patted the spot on the couch next to him. You smiled gently and made your way over to sit next to Trevor to curl up at his side. He reached for the remote and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, to pull you against him.

Without prompting, Trevor opened Netflix and quickly started up the last show that the two of you had started the other day.

“As much as not sleeping sucks, this is pretty nice,” you murmured.

You pressed closer to Trevor and inhaled deeply as you relaxed against him, you head falling to his shoulder. This was something that the two of you had been doing since you first met back when you were in college; it still brought you the same sense of comfort and even safety. The warmth of Trevor’s body, the gentle strength of his arm holding you, and even the scent of his cologne all calmed down the wild running around your thoughts were doing.

Trevor hummed and you could have sworn that you felt him nuzzle into your hair, “If sleep isn’t an option, I’m glad that this is.”

“It’ll always been an option, Trev,” you said softly and you tried to stifle a yawn against his chest.

A few beats of silence fell over the both of you and all you could really focus on was the feeling of Trevor’s hand running slowly over your arm and the gentle heave of his chest under your head. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath before lifting your head to look back at Trevor. You took a few moments to just watch the light of the television dance over his features; you could almost feel your breath get caught in your throat.

Sure, you’ve known for quite some time that Trevor was not exactly an unattractive man. You’ve had friends fawn over him, ex’s get jealous (both yours, and his), and even had to talk yourself out of your own thoughts on more than one occasion; but now, in your overly sleepy state you couldn’t help yourself as you stared up at him.

Slowly, Trevor turned to face you as if he felt your eyes on him.

“Y/N…?” he started to ask.

However, you hardly gave him a chance to question what you wanted before you craned your neck up in order to press your lips against Trevor’s. You could feel him tense for just a second and you were worried he would push you away, but the arm around you tightened and he pressed closer to you as he kissed you back.

It could have been hours, seconds, or minutes, but slowly, both of you pulled away from one another. You blinked up at him with wide eyes and bit down gently on your lower lip, unsure of what to say or do at that moment.

“How long have you been thinking about that?” Trevor asked in a soft voice.

You took a deep breath and shrugged, “A while.”

Trevor laughed and shook his head before he leaned in to press his forehead against your own. “Well, why don’t we do more than just think about it,” he offered, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. You let out a low chuckle and shook your head.

“That certainly is one way to tire ourselves out,” you replied as you pulled away and stood up to hold a hand out to Trevor, “Let’s go.”

#trevor collins imagine #trevor collins x reader #trevor c x reader #rt imagine #rt reader insert #ah imAgine #ah reader insert #ragehappy #commission

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lillianfromaccounting · 7 years ago

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Love at First Slice

author: lillianfromaccounting characters: Clint Barton x reader, Steve, Natasha, Sam, other avengers word count: 1915 warnings: none, fluff, fake dating trope

Summary: A mission in Central Park gives you the chance to pretend to be your crush’s girlfriend.

A/N: This is my submission to @sincerelysaraahh ‘s sweater weather challenge. Thank you so much for having me! My prompts were: Date: Have a picnic at the park. Prompt: "I don't see how that has anything to do with what we were talking about."

Love at First Slice “Just try to act like you like me when we get to the rendezvous point,” Clint whispered in your ear, draping his right arm around your shoulder. A large picnic basket dangled off his left hand.

“I got this,” you reassured him. You took his lead and wrapped one arm around him, leaning into his firm chest. His grey henley felt super soft against your cheek and smelled like fresh linens. You suddenly remembered seeing him in the laundry room last night. It’s been almost a year since you’ve moved into the tower and it seemed like you ran into Clint around every corner.

No--running into him would imply chance. You may or may not have changed your schedule slightly in order to increase the chances that you would pass him in the hall at certain times. Maybe you got up a little earlier now to get to the kitchen about three minutes before he usually sauntered in so that you could empty the coffee pot and brew a new one, buying you ten minutes to chat about everything and nothing. You might have opted for the Thursday night yoga class to free up your Tuesdays for pizza and movie night, where more times than not, it was just you and Clint on the couch, with Lucky at your feet.

The laundry room was by chance though. Your room just happened to be on the same floor and you couldn’t help who was doing laundry. Granted, you did notice every time Clint was there, and maybe you found an excuse or two to walk by several times last night. You tried to find enough dirty clothes for a load of wash so you could join him, but thought better of it since you had done that a few days ago already.

It was a silly crush, nothing more. It didn’t matter that every time you caught a glimpse of his crinkly eyes, butterflies turned your stomach. It didn’t matter that your mouth went dry every time his hand ran through that spiky blond hair of his. It didn’t matter that you temporarily forgot how to talk every time he called your name. None of it mattered because at the end of the day, he didn’t seem interested, so you resigned to willing the feelings away. But it was so harder said than done.

You tried not to be obvious. Clint was pretty laid back and probably didn’t notice the extra attention you were paying him anyway. It wasn’t like you were lavishing him with gifts of chocolate and flowers. You just made sure that there was plenty of coffee and stocked his favorite beer when it was your turn to grocery shop. He would order your favorite pizza toppings and made sure you were warm enough on the couch. It’s what was expected of people who share the same living space, right?

He always spotted you at the gym. You’ve learned not to ogle when watching him at practice, even though his arms were mesmerizing. Everyone talks about Thor’s stature, Steve’s chest, Sam’s thighs, and Bucky’s abs; Clint was just as stacked as the rest of them.

And you were reminded of that right now, as the two of you walked side by side down a paved path in Central Park, his arm firmly around you. It had been a very mild autumn thus far; normally, by this time, most of the trees would be bare, but you caught them just as the colors were coming in. The vibrant backdrop was an added bonus to this fake date.

You approached the rendezvous point and immediately spot the mark in a black suit with a black shirt and skinny black tie. He wiped his trembling hands against his pants before lighting a cigarette. He could have been the average businessman, taking a quick lunch in the park, but the black duffel bag on the bench gave him away.

“Honey, how about this spot?” Clint asked, drawing out the word honey. He stuck his chin out toward a grassy patch near some rocks about twenty feet behind the mark. It was a clear day and the lake behind the rocks reflected the cityscape.

“I don’t know, babe,” you protested, wanting a more direct view of the target. “Wouldn’t that spot by the tree there be better? There’s some shade.”

“No, the last time we sat there, there was an ant hill, remember?” he looked at you and winked, reminding you that Scott had already set up by that tree. “Besides, the direct sunlight would be perfect for all those selfies you like to take.” Another hint--the camera angles were probably better from here.

Clint set the basket down, pointing the hidden camera in the mark’s direction. You rolled out the red and white checkered blanket while he unpacked various containers of food.

If the intel was correct, that duffel bag contained a very dangerous weapon. While it would have been easy to apprehend the guy, the team was more interested in the buyer, and the best way to get them was to catch them in the act. The team was scattered all around the park, waiting for the trade to happen. Just to be safe though, Natasha was to switch out the bags before the buyer showed.

“I’m one minute out,” Natasha’s voice came over the comm.

That was Scott’s signal to release a powder in the air that would make the mark thirsty.

Sam rolled up a metal cart and called out, “Snow cones! Get your snow cones here! A dollar a piece!

“Excuse me, do you have blue raspberry?” a little boy asked.

“Blue raspberry, just for you! On the house!” Sam said, handing over a blue cone to the tot.

Sam rolled the cart just out of reach of the mark. “Sir, can I interest you in a refreshing snow cone on this unseasonably hot autumn day?”

The mark hesitated, quickly glancing at the duffel bag but at the same time, reaching up to loosen his tie. He looked at Sam’s cart and then got up from the bench, pulling his wallet out.

“That’s the spirit man,” Sam encouraged. “I’ve got the best stuff in the whole park. All organic ingredients, natural flavors, certified kosher and halal, gluten-free vegan. You won’t regret it.”

“Uh yeah, just uh--two rainbow ones,” the mark said, handing over two singles to Sam.

“Sure thing!” Sam said, taking his time to prepare the snow cones, watching Natasha switch the duffel bag in his periphery. “Here, two rainbows.”

By the time the mark sat back down on the bench, you and Clint were taking turns feeding each other pieces of cut fruit. You tried not to flinch every time your fingers brushed against his soft lips. He made a game of it, trying to eat each piece of fruit whole, occasionally nipping at your fingers.

“Mark two just entered the park,” Steve signaled over the comm. “Get ready.”

You scanned the park and saw another suit with Ray-bans approaching the bench.

Clint slid his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “I was thinking for tonight, pepperoni, peppers and mushrooms, Hawaiian, broccoli rabe. And two plains,” he whispered in your ear.

“Mmm,” you hummed. How did he manage to make pizza toppings sound sexy?

“Looks like he’s getting cold feet. Picnic, you’re up,” Steve said.

Clint jumped up and yelled, “I can’t believe you lost Lucky!”

You didn’t actually discuss what you were going to use as a distraction but you’ve improved enough of these scenes that it didn’t really matter. The point was to draw attention.

“Me?! You’re the one who took him off his leash!” you yelled back, willing tears to your eyes. You walked towards the bench, hoping to get both marks’ attention. “Lucky! Lucky! Here boy!” You paced around, pretending like you were looking for the lost dog, who was probably actually snoring beside the couch in the common room right now.

“Keep it up. Bystanders eyes are all on you now,” Steve said.

“We wouldn’t have lost him if you didn’t want to have this stupid picnic in the first place!” Clint spat, walking in the opposite direction. “Lucky! Here boy!” He whistled.

“Stupid?! It was your idea! Do you even remember what day today is? I bet you don’t even remember!”

“Of course I remember the anniversary of Lucky’s adoption from the pound! What kind of guy do you take me for? Lucky!”

Your voices were both getting hoarse from the yelling back and forth, but you knew it was working because you felt the stare of the audience around you.

“Targets acquired,” Steve said. You turned your head, quickly scanning the park. You saw Bucky and Natasha escorting Ray-bans out of the park, while Sam and Scott escorted bench guy out another exit.

“You—you do remember!” you gasped loudly, running towards Clint.

He braced himself for your tackle; you both fell over, landing serendipitously on the picnic blanket.

“I love you!” you blurted.

Clint brushed a piece of hair away from your face, sliding the back of his hand down your cheek.

The sea blue green of his eyes drew you closer to his face.

“We’ll meet you guys back at the tower,” Steve’s voice broke your focus.

“Um, we probably should head back,” Clint said, helping you up.

“Right,” you said. Your stomach dropped. Him not acknowledging your not quite fake declaration of love felt worse than outright rejection. You looked around and saw that most of the team was already gone. Whatever audience you had earlier had disbanded. “We should head back,” you said more to yourself than to Clint.

You cleaned up the picnic, putting the containers back into the basket and folding up the blanket, desperately fighting the swell of emotions bubbling in your chest. When you were done packing, Clint was in front of you, offering you a small bunch of wildflowers.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“For you,” he said, shoving them into your hands. “You like the purple ones.”

“Um, yeah,” you confirmed. “Thanks.”

He looked towards the ground and signed pizza.

“Pizza? I don't see how that has anything to do with what we were talking about,” you said.

With his pointer fingers up, he tapped his thumbs and fingertips together. Date.

Flowers. Pizza. Me. You. Date?

“Me? And you?” you asked.

“If—if you want,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”

You reached over to lift his chin, looking into his eyes. He had his best signature Clint Barton poker face on, but you can tell he was chewing on the inside of his bottom lip.

“Sounds like a solid idea,” you said.

He pulled you into his chest and touched his lips to yours, setting your whole body on fire. You felt the tension release from his shoulders when you kissed him back. He hungrily nipped and sucked at your lips, up your jaw and down your neck, and then crashing back to your lips. When you came up for air, you were on the park bench and you don’t remember how you two got there.

“Uh, if you two are done sucking face, please turn your comms off,” Tony’s voice rang in your ear. “Also, we’re waiting for you to get back to the tower so we can debrief. Not de--not like that. We need your reports. Paperwork. And get a room before you get arrested for public indecency.”

#fanfic #clint barton x reader #sincerelysaraahh sweater weather challenge #love at first slice #sincerelysaraahh #mine #fluff #fake dating #undercover #jeremy renner #autumn #coffee #pizza #i write tropes and cliches

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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How White Noise Exposes the Empty Lies of the Alt-Right

https://ift.tt/2ZPmb1K

Rabbit holes have been on Daniel Lombroso’s mind during the last four years. Perhaps they’ve been there longer since his awareness of the alt-right predates his work on the new documentary White Noise. Yet ever since a fateful day in 2016, when he pointed a camera at a band of young white American men offering up their arms in a Nazi salute, he’s thoroughly explored one of the darkest rabbit holes in 21st century Western culture—and he’s shined a light on how so many got there, only to spread more hate out of it.

A perfect example comes midway through White Noise. Using what Lombroso cites as a strong tool for any cinema vérité documentarian, the montage, he tracks how one of the movie’s primary subjects, alt-right personality Mike Cernovich, spent the final months of the 2016 presidential campaign tweeting across the internet an erroneous smear about Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton. Cernovich falsely claimed she had covered up a series of seizures, including on Sept. 11 of that year during a visit to the site of the World Trade Center attack, and was quietly suffering from Parkinson’s Disease.

“It takes off enough that a few days later it’s on Hannity, and a few days later it’s coming out of the president’s mouth,” Lombroso tells us over Zoom on a late October afternoon. “I mean, the notion that messaging from the President of the United States can begin with the conspiratorial snake oil salesman in California, and ends up in a president’s mouth, it’s just totally astounding.”

It’s also just one of the more overt ways White Noise explores the menace, as well as the shallow initial appeals, of the alt-right movement in the United States.

Produced by The Atlantic, White Noise is a documentary that’s been four years in the making for Lombroso. He’s keen to admit that he didn’t intend for the process to take the entire length of President Donald Trump’s presidential term. But then that may be serendipitous. For unlike other documentaries that study the modern far-right in American life from a distance, Lombroso’s film is the only one doing it from the inside looking out.

With remarkable access to three of the (once) most popular voices in the alt-right movement, Lombroso took a fly on the wall vantage for years as he traveled the world with Cernovich, Lauren Southern, a Canadian white supremacist on YouTube, and American neo-Nazi Richard Spencer. And over the course of White Noise’s 90 minutes, years of interviews, and silent observations, the emptiness of all three’s snake oil becomes overbearing.

Of course they would disagree; Spencer even takes umbrage any time he is called a Nazi. And yet, it was a Spencer-led event in November 2016 that brought White Noise into being. Years before he headlined at the white supremacist “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia—which led to the murder of anti-racist protestor Heather Heyer—Spencer was jubilant in the heady days following Donald Trump’s surprise electoral victory.

“I started covering the alt-right as a reporter at The Atlantic in about July of 2016, four or five months before the event,” Lombroso says. “I saw just really repulsive stuff bubbling up online, in chat forums, but also on college campuses. I only graduated a couple of years before from school, so I actually brought coverage of the alt-right to The Atlantic.” And among the filmmaker’s ideas that autumn was a profile of Spencer, whom Lombroso views as a modern day equivalent of former grand wizard of the KKK, David Duke.

Even so, the filmmaker was somewhat taken aback when he followed Spencer and a litany of believers into a Washington D.C. ballroom just days after Trump’s election. There Spencer referred to the media as Lügenpresse, the German phrase for “Press of Lies,” which was utilized by Nazi propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels. Spencer’s followers then chanted, “Hail Trump!” and “Hail our people!”

Reflects Lombroso, “At the time, alt-right was used as a fun way for them to rebrand, and it was total bullshit. I mean, they’re Nazis, they’re white supremacists, they’re fascist and that clip was really important in clarifying what they were about.” It went viral and became the launching pad of Lombroso’s first feature film—a film he believes to have crucial historical significance.

“I think seeing them on the rise and seeing how much Trump had empowered them was just completely shocking to them,” Lombroso considers. “I don’t think Trump would exist and be where he is without the alt-right, and the alt-right also wouldn’t exist without Trump. I mean, it’s a really terrifying symbiotic relationship.”

Its historical importance was also only heightened by Lombroso’s own personal background as a Jewish man who has spent a lifetime living with the dangers of far-right extremism.

“Both of my grandmothers are Holocaust survivors, and I grew up very close to them, learning their stories,” says the director. “One of them lost her entire family, except for a brother, and the other one lost her sister in the war. So those were fundamental memories and legacies that I grew up with.”

Given this personal history, it is perhaps surprising so many alt-right personalities would welcome Lombroso and his camera within their ranks. And with the exception of Spencer, it was a challenge gaining access.

“Spencer is the easiest because he’s willing to do almost anything,” Lombroso says. “[But] once he understood that this was kind of an unvarnished vérité film—I think he didn’t totally grasp that—and the more frankly embarrassing moments I caught of him, the more he tried to back off. But Cernovich was difficult, and then Lauren… was next to impossible. It took eight months to convince her to participate in the project. She doesn’t do any press.”

Nevertheless, they all wound up becoming protagonists in the film. Lombroso credits this to each thinking they could “outsmart” him, and that they were all narcissistic enough in their own way to fail to grasp how they would appear on screen. With a vérité approach, the three minor celebrities could only see plenty of floor space to hock their soundbite-deep ideology. But when captured in full context, they were each given enough proverbial rope.

Even so, the filmmaker cultivated complicated relationships with each of them, particularly Southern, whom he describes as “the key to the film.”

“I just built this really interesting kind of journalistic relationship with her where I just kept coming back and trying to convince her that I was sincere in wanting to understand her story,” Lombroso says. “She’s a little bit younger than me, but we’re around the same age and I think that helped. If I was a 60-year-old white dude director, it would have been a lot harder. But even though I find her views totally abhorrent, we had at least some references growing up and watching the same things, listening to the same things.”

And listen to Lauren, Lombrsoso did. Extensively. Over the course of several years, the documentarian traveled with her across the globe as her YouTube celebrity grew. On that video-sharing site, she posted alleged makeup tutorials where she would write the words “Fuck Islam” across her cheeks; and she’d fly to Russia in order to prove there is no “collusion” while wearing Soviet styled military caps. With several years’ reflection, she later tells Lombroso in the film that these were “trolling politics.” She sold them with a chirping smile.

That is of course the danger. As Lombroso recalls, when he followed Southern all the way to the European Parliament, Janice Atkinson, a former British member of the EU legislative branch, cooed, “She can sell it to my sons better than I can sell it.” Or, as Lombroso clarifies, “She’s young, obviously part of her package is that she’s attractive and she uses it to radicalize people.”

At the same time, during the course of making White Noise, Southern showed the most potential for change. The filmmaker caught on camera what appeared to be far-right radio host, and Proud Boys founder, Gavin McInnes sexually propositioning Lauren over the phone (McInnes is married and denied that he actually did so). And Lombroso was able to document Southern’s growing weariness with this kind of gross, leering attention.

“With Richard and Mike, no, there’s very little regret, there’s very little self-awareness,” Lombroso says. “With Lauren, dealing with a lot of the sexual harassment and abuse from men… I think there was a moment, it’s act two in the film, which was about a year and a half ago filming, when she was dealing with it so dramatically and nonstop. It was just a never ending torrent of shit from these guys that there was a chance or a hope that she might change.”

But one of the most telling things about White Noise is it’s not a reclamation story or the “Hollywood narrative,” as Lombroso shrugs.

“In pitch meetings, everyone was looking for the hallmark story of the Nazi who reformed. There’s a few amazing examples like Derek Black, but it’s so rare. The hundreds of people I interviewed and spent time with, I can count on one hand the number of people who reformed and owned up.”

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So even as Southern took a year off from the alt-right rat race, and had a child with a man who was not white, her views never changed. In fact, they hardened. Which makes her desire in White Noise to not talk about the ethnicity of her child’s father all the more striking.

“I think Lauren’s omission of her boyfriend [and] now husband is intentional,” Lombroso says. “I think she’s potentially embarrassed. She wants to minimize as much as possible how much of a blatant contradiction that is. I mean, she is the avatar for white femininity, for white baby-making, and for the preservation of the white race.” And she’s doubled down on that line of thinking, if not in the specific gender dynamics, after taking a year off.

More insidious still is how figures like Southern can trade in their YouTube hate-mongering for the prestige of establishment notoriety. After going to Paris and filming Middle Eastern refugees left to live in tents, she and alt-right filmmaker Caolan Robertson created a repugnant piece of propaganda called Borderless. It was screened for European policymakers.

“She was invited to the European Parliament,” Lombroso remarks. “She met her partner, and with the benefits of her privilege as a young white person could just wipe that stuff away. So yeah, the EU speech gave her a tremendous amount of credibility, a stunning amount. And she’s really not sorry about anything.”

As the toast of far-right European Parliament members’ staffs—with 10 percent of elected members currently belonging to the anti-immigrant and extremist Identity and Democracy group—Southern screened Borderless. The documentary pivots on a misleading montage where a series of refugees say they wish they stayed in their native countries. Out of context, Southern and Robertson present this with goofy inspirational music.

In White Noise, Lombroso provides context. In tent cities beneath highway overpasses, Southern lies and manipulates refugees to get the soundbites she desires.

“It’s terrible and terrifying,” Lombroso says. “Coming from The Atlantic, we just had the most careful, rigorous journalistic standards. Everyone had to sign a release form. Everyone knew my name and how I worked. If they asked about my background, I’d say I’m Jewish. Nothing was a lie. And in that scene, you see on camera Lauren give a fake name. She says, ‘My name is Alex.’ To give you context beyond [White Noise], she would represent herself all sorts of ways, most often as a journalist who was very favorable to refugees and wanted to hear their story and spread the word. They had no idea what they were getting themselves into.”

Yet Lombroso’s instinct to maintain the vérité approach of bearing witness to this sinister manipulation could create an ethical dilemma. These are people in the worst situation imaginable, living in tents and unable to get a job because the EU will not give them work permits no matter what they do.

Says Lombroso, “For me, it just became about exposing how horrible her treatment was and how inconsistent it was with what we saw.”

Such instances demonstrate the inherent challenge of Lombroso’s approach, but also the reason he felt compelled to present White Noise as a documentary that follows three alt-right celebrities to a bitter end. Unlike so many other political documentaries, there are no talking heads drawing direct comparisons to the 1930s, as Lombroso might do in a Zoom conversation, nor is there a voiceover narration or heavy-handed musical score, asking the viewer to feel a certain way.

Lombroso is acutely sensitive to criticism that his film would become a platform or amplifier for the subjects’ hateful rhetoric. Instead of presenting their talking points without context, Lombroso argues, he is drowning them in excessive context.

“I think our realization is that these folks have followings in the millions, and a huge amount of influence already,” Lombroso says. “So it was on me as a filmmaker and journalist to take their ideas seriously, but slowly dismantle them. I think the vérité format does that extremely well… you’re able to tie someone up in his loops, prove them wrong, expose their psychology and just how abhorrent they are in a way that’s much more revealing, I believe, than any expert at the Brookings Institution could ever do.”

Lombroso views the intimate access he had with these figures a unique opportunity and his biggest asset. By stepping back, he could capture the whole alt-right landscape in the age of Trump with a single snapshot of historic value.

“The way the alt-right recruits is by telling the story that we’re the descendants of Greeks and Romans,” says the filmmaker. “That we are strong men and that if you follow us, you’ll be happy, you’ll be confident, and you’ll feel better. And the real way to dismantle that isn’t for an expert to tell you it’s not true; it’s to really just show how empty it is.”

It’s also what the finished film conveys in 2020. Over recent months, Lombroso and The Atlantic have screened White Noise for a variety of audiences, and all of them, including conservative ones, had the same reaction of revulsion toward these people and where they end up.

By the time White Noise’s credits roll, each of the three subjects—Spencer, Cernovich, and Southern—have been left behind by their movement. Cernovich and Southern chose to step away, somewhat weary of the mess they helped create, though each has tried to circle back. In the case of Southern, it is continuing her online activism in Australia after Borderless’ warm reception among the far-right; Cernovich, meanwhile, contemplates a run for Congress after transitioning to selling skin care products and other seeming grifts.

And Spencer? At picture’s end, he is divorced and living back home in his mother’s extravagant Montana house, playing the piano and riding ski lifts alone while fantasizing about there one day being a Richard Spencer Boulevard.

Muses Lombroso, “Richard is an ideologue. Richard believes it, but even with him, he’s intoxicated by the fame. So I think it’s sort of a spectrum. Richard is a true believer. Mike believes next to nothing, but all of the motivations are mixed.”

What all three have in common, however, is an indignation at how they appear in White Noise.

“There’s a reason they despise the film,” Lombroso tells me. “They’re all very unhappy with the way it came out, because I think in their minds they’re the heroes of their own story. And now they’re looking in the mirror and seeing that for most people, it just doesn’t look that way.”

He goes on to add, “The New York Times just wrote a review and said the three must be so excited about this film. And if only the reviewer at The Times knew what my inbox looked like for the past two months in my phone. I mean, they’re furious because they know that this film just dismantles their ideology and their ability to recruit. It makes them look like fools.”

The alt-right, at least as how Cernovich, Spencer, and Southern, conceived of it, is effectively dead. But its ideology and aspirations live happily on in the mainstream every time Fox News hosts spread conspiracy theories that sound only slightly removed from the most heinous rhetoric Cernovich propagated on Twitter; and it breathes deeply each instance President Trump refuses to denounce a QAnon conspiracy theory that has morphed into the new faceless leader of far-right propaganda online.

The rabbit hole still exists, just one click away. But at least with White Noise, some younger minds might see the ugly reality such blind hate leaves in its wake.White Noise is available on VOD now.

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ericvick · 5 years ago

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Self-knowledge, growth, progress form heart of Kadeem’s new work

Daniel Sheehan, Arts and Features Editor

Mattapan rapper Kadeem has released a new audiovisual project titled “Passing Exchange,” filmed in March days before stay-at-home orders went into place.

“Passing Exchange,” a new audiovisual project released last month by Mattapan rapper Kadeem, begins with an audio recording ripped from a French documentary about Harlem in the 1960s. In the clip, the subject of the interview discusses black power in terms of self-identification: “Before you can cope with anything else, you gotta realize your self – your potential,” he advises.

That concept of “knowledge of self” dovetails with the themes of progression and growth at the core of the project, Kadeem told the Reporter in a recent interview.

“I was researching heavy trying to find something that resonated with me, and [the ‘60s] was kind of a perfect time because that was a really big awakening for a lot of black people; you had the civil rights movement, the Nation of Islam, the Black Panthers, all these conscious black movements rising together…When I was making the project, I was thinking a lot about the theme of progression and moving forward, and that’s kind of what the video does.”

The video, which clocks in at just under ten minutes, pairs excerpts from each of the five tracks on the EP with a different visual accompaniment, creating distinct chapters and lending a sense of chronology to the project. The first sound we hear after the opening quote is the mechanical whir of bicycle wheels, cut together with shots of Kadeem traversing Mattapan on two wheels, a nod to his last album, World Sport, an ode in equal parts to his Schwinn bike and his hometown. But as Kadeem rides home and locks up the bicycle outside, the video hints at a transition from the old to the new – moving forward.

“I see this project as my stepping stone,” he explained. “Old parts don’t die off, they evolve into something else.”

The next chapter shows Kadeem at home going about his daily routine: cooking breakfast, watering plants, doing dishes, penning rhymes at the kitchen table. While the footage was filmed in March, just days before stay-at-home orders went into place, the scene nevertheless conjures auras of lockdown and self-isolation.

“That was unintended, but it’s funny; it’s crazy that time tells all,” said Kadeem. “Now here we are, and that part really resonates.”

A series of close-up shots of the plants, meant to symbolize growth, suggest to the viewer that development is possible even in a contained environment – “even something as simple as a daily routine is moving forward,” noted the rapper.

The remainder of the video puts the neighborhood of Mattapan center stage, as Kadeem directs bars toward the camera from various spots on Morton Street, River Street, and Cummins Highway. Like “World Sport,” “Passing Exchange” derives much of its context from a sense of place; the aid of a camera makes that geographic connection explicit, vividly showing the Mattapan MC in his element.

“A Cross to Bear,” the third track on the album, is set to images of religious iconography and exterior shots of the Church of the Holy Spirit. Kadeem explained that the song is about “the juxtaposition of good and bad” that he sees in his home neighborhood, an idea laid out in the song’s hook:

“Sunshine right all in my face, while another child met the cued horns/ I got caught up dodging the rain on the way to greet a newborn.”

That duality of “another kid getting shot down in the street” while others are “celebrating new life” struck Kadeem as poignant, he said. With the last bar of his second verse, he positions that juxtaposition in a hopeful light, reasoning, “I know there’s beauty in the swallows of our failed space.”

The final chapter is set to “Big Gains,” the fourth track on the project that begins with another quote from the subject interviewed in the documentary: “This community for so long has been made up in the news media that there’s a wild bunch of animals running around here and crime is rampant and nobody cares, and it’s not that way at all – a lot of people care.”

While earlier parts of the project deal with heavier themes, “Big Gains” is “just about fun,” said Kadeem. The video depicts a typical weekend night: hanging with a friend outside Morton Pizza, drinking, dancing, laughing, having a good time.

“It just shows that I can go through all this stuff, I can talk about all this stuff, I can be as wise as I may be perceived to be, but at the end of the day, I still like to kick it with the homies,” he explained.

Toward the end, the fraternal, good-natured vibe of the video is punctuated by a surprise cameo from an MBTA bus driver who happened to stop as Kadeem was rapping his final bars. Without breaking his flow, Kadeem greets the grinning driver with a handshake before returning to his spot on the sidewalk.

“That was my favorite part, actually,” said Kadeem. “It happened so serendipitously.”

Noting the care his community members have for one another, he chalked the random occurrence up to a simple axiom: “You show love, you know love.”

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worksofphiction · 7 years ago

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prompt; single dad phil who is too attached to his one year old to see the obvious attempts of his new housekeeper to flirt with him. cue phil making airplane noises while feeding,cooing,cuddling and baby lester sleeping,fist in mouth,on her daddy's chest as he snores on the couch, glasses askew and dan the housekeeper with alternator motives snapping creepshots he can't help. very very obsessive and tunnel visioned young dad phil. Hopelessly in love pathetic admirer and housekeeper dan.

For the Love of Scarlett Lester

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Phil has always believed that not all mistakes led to regrets. And every morning, for the past 10 months, he has stared that belief in the face. Scarlett Lester was born on January 1st and she is the most beautiful human being that has ever crawled the earth.Single Dad, Phil Lester is completely obsessed with his baby girl and isn’t able to recognize the crush his housekeeper Dan has on him. Will Dan be able to prove that he is good enough for not only Phil, but also his daughter?Genre: Fluff, Domestic FluffWord Count: 15,123Reading Time: 00:55:26Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

(I’m sorry that this took so long to write! I haven’t had a moment to myself in a while to concentrate. But here you are, Anonymous! I got a little carried away, I know…but it’s cute. I promise.)

Phil has always believed that not all mistakes led to regrets. And every morning, for the past 10 months, he has stared that belief in the face. Scarlett Lester was born on January 1st and she was the most beautiful human being that has ever crawled the earth. She was named after her mother, a beautiful American girl that had brown hair, the color of bacon that had just begun to sizzle and eyes that outblued even his own. The summer was hot last year and Phil was casually strolling through downtown Manchester when he crashed into a woman running high speed towards a cafe where she had apparently left her credit card. She was a whole ocean away from her family and was going to be there for the entire summer, so losing her credit card was the last thing she needed to happen. Phil rubbed his head and helped her up, asking her what the matter was, only to then run with her - just in case things went south. Sure enough, the restaurant had her card and Phil helped her dust off the beautiful bag she had been carrying. Phil Lester was a dork, to say the least. He didn’t have much luck with the ladies or the lads. He just kind of existed and very rarely, something lucky would happen and Phil would end up in a situation most would call serendipitous. The girl shook his hand and told him that her name was Scarlett, passing a smile in Phil’s direction. Their eyes met and suddenly, they were spending the afternoon together talking about the places they had been in life. Phil always imagined that the love of his life would come into his life with a crash, but he didn’t expect it to run so smoothly. It was almost like it was too good to be true. And in fact, it was. After casually seeing Scarlett for about a month, she showed up at his door with her head in her hands. Phil guided her inside and rubbed her back until she dug something small and plastic from the bag that had caught Phil’s eye in the very beginning.A pregnancy test. Scarlett was pregnant and the baby was definitely Phil’s. Phil’s gut reaction told him that this was karma. That this is what you get when you sleep with someone and not triple double check that they have taken their birth control pills consistently. But of course, the thing they had in common had to be their forgetfulness and isn’t it funny how that one flaw in two people could create such a mess? But another thing Phil believed, was that once something happened, it couldn’t unhappen. So he swallowed his fear and comforted the young girl, talking her off a mountain of doubt. She explained, once she could breathe, that she was against abortion and that she couldn’t keep the baby herself. Phil’s gut twinged with sadness because they would make a wonderful couple. But once he thought about it, she was young and he barely knew her. Sure, a few conversations over dinner and a couple of eventful dates might show chemistry, but that didn’t stand as a solid foundation for a marriage or a parental situation. So after Scarlett called her parents she came to Phil a few weeks later bearing a choice. Phil’s eyes flicked down to the girls growing stomach and took the ultrasound from the shaking girl’s hand. She started explaining the adoption process and he zoned out completely as he looked at the tiny little pea sized speck that seemed to be staring back at him from the paper. “I’ll take her.” His words jumped from his mouth like a frog from a sinking lily pad. He couldn’t give up this child that had dropped into his life so unexpectedly. This girl was lost and scared and as Phil stared at the girl in front of him, he decided he didn’t want to do that to a child that hadn’t even been born.Scarlett tried to explain that the adoption process would be easy and that Phil shouldn’t add more to his simple life. She claimed he might not be ready and that this was a huge step for a single man to make, but Phil didn’t care. He was staring down at the photo in his hand with a smile on his face. Phil was a loner, always had been, and he felt in his bones that this was the right thing to do. That this little pea could change his life into something that mattered. After all, he was nearly 24 and hadn’t found a mate. People of 24 had kids all the time. This was a sign. He would be stupid not to take it. He pulled Scarlett in for a hug and told her that she should take some deep breaths and that he would adopt the baby directly. It would make her job easier and then she could come see the child whenever she wanted, even after she traveled back to her hometown in America. It was four in the morning when he got the call. He was wide awake though, a feeling of nausea coursing through his restless body. The baby was coming and in less than a day, he would be a father. The baby girl was born in America, Scarlett’s family insisting they have the child in their hometown surrounded by the people she cared about. Phil wished that he could be there but he didn’t know her family well enough and as the older foreign guy who knocked their 21-year-old up, he didn’t really feel like he was welcome anyway. But a week after the delivery, he was to meet Scarlett and their child at the airport and no matter how many times he fixed his collar, it still didn’t look good enough for the first time he met his baby girl. He would soon learn that nothing would be good enough for his baby girl and that wouldn’t change as she grew older. Their meeting was short and if Phil was being honest, he couldn’t even recall what Scarlett had said to him while she was there. She mentioned something about visiting on their child’s first birthday if she could manage to make the money. Just to check up on the baby she had just brought into the world. She handed him the suitcase that had all of their child’s belongings so far and hugged Phil sadly. She didn’t look so remorseful about leaving their child and Phil thought she should’ve been. He couldn’t do what she was doing, but he supposed that’s why he wasn’t. He picked up the baby’s carriage and peered down at the sleeping child. A wave of nervousness flooded over him but he couldn’t stop smiling down at his beautiful baby girl to acknowledge the fact that he had no idea how to care for a child. But no parent did and over time, he learned. He heard less and less from Scarlett as she faded from his life, only to be referenced when Phil explained how his little baby girl had come to be. The story was hardly romantic and Phil preferred it that way. Baby Scarlett didn’t need an origin story. She just needed Phil, and Phil needed her. Now, 10 months later, the baby girl was babbling to Phil as he played with her little toes. It was past supper time and Phil had eaten his own meal of pasta while he fed Scarlett her mashed bananas. These had been her favorite since the moment he switched her from bottles. Phil hated bananas but he would buy them every single day if it was for Scarlett. Phil was lucky that his Youtube channel was going well. He mainly did vlogs and before he had a child, he would vlog his daily adventures and do little live shows for his fans. It paid the bills and it was rather lucrative at times. It depended on how productive Phil was about making his videos and doing interesting things. But after Scarlett was born, Phil began to slowly incorporate her into his vlogs. At first, he thought that maybe she would ruin his channel - and to be honest, Phil didn’t care. If people didn’t like her, then he didn’t want anything to do with the channel in the first place. But shockingly, his support only grew and he suddenly, as if it were overnight, had become an icon for single dads everywhere. Phil and Scarlett were Youtube’s most beloved vlogging channel and Phil couldn’t be happier. He didn’t have to change a single thing. He would just make sure the camera was on when he was going about daily life. He would film Scarlett and show the world what he saw when he looked at her. Pure beauty and love. Of course, the downside with being so busy and working from home is that Phil didn’t have a ton of friends. He wasn’t a very social Youtuber and didn’t really fit into any of the clicks that existed throughout the community. Not to mention, having a kid kind of limits the ability to go out and hang with people of his own age. He was very very lucky that he received a message from a girl named Louise who was going through a similar problem. She was Youtuber with a child named Darcy and was expecting another within the next couple of months. She often found herself getting lonely and not having the right kind of friends to keep up with her lifestyle. When she messaged Phil, it was simply to tell him that she admired his courage of being a single parent and that she used him as an inspiration herself when tackling the struggles of being a single mother. Phil messaged her back after a particularly hard week of solitude and kind of went out on a limb, asking if she and her daughter would want to come over and have dinner. Louise complied and suddenly, a friendship was born. Turns out they lived close and it was easy to see that Darcy fell deeply in love with Scarlett. She claimed that she “always wanted a baby sister” and now she could finally have one. One of the best things about having a friend with a child and the same interests was her ability to make Phil’s life easier with just one suggestion. Phil’s biggest problem, always had been, was picking up after himself and Scarlett. Phil was often distracted with his own life and his own daughter that he forgot to pick up his apartment. Things were a mess nearly all the time because he just didn’t have the energy after he put the baby to bed to clean up his flat. He would tell himself - and Louise - that he would clean it up “tomorrow” or “this weekend” only to completely ignore the goal and fall asleep with Scarlett on his chest instead. It was nearing winter when Louise finally said something. “Philly, do you ever intend on picking up your lounge?” She stepped over some of the baby clothes that were lying on the floor. “Does Scarlett even fit this anymore?” She held up one of the first onesies that Scarlett had ever worn. In fact, she arrived in that one. Phil carefully took the carriage back to his flat and when he finally arrived there, he took the sleeping child from her comfortable spot. Scooping her into his arms, he cradled the one-week-old child and his heart melted. The little pink onesie looked too big on her tiny curled body, able to be supported by just one of his massive hands. Phil hummed softly as the baby hiccuped into his ear, only to fall back asleep on Phil’s shoulder. He would never forget that moment, for that was when he fell in love with his daughter. His daughter in the little pink onesie. He couldn’t give it up… “Phil!” Louise snapped him out of the trance he had fallen into, staring at the object in question. He had this stupid grin on his face that he would make when he thought about how adorable Scarlett was. It was nap time for his baby and Darcy was with her dad, so this was generally the only time the two friends had to talk without the distraction of a child. But it seemed that Phil could get distracted anyway and Louise always joked about how his head was 90% Scarlett and only 10% everything else. “I hate to tell you this, Phil, but you need to clean your apartment. It’s a little gross,” she told him, his eyebrows going up with sympathy. He knew she was right. He just…didn’t have the time. Or something. Maybe he just hated cleaning. But when Scarlett was awake, he gave her his full attention, and when she was asleep, he was so exhausted that cleaning sounded like a nightmare. “I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t have time,” Phil sighed, glancing at the state of his apartment. Louise had a point. It was pretty gross. “Being untidy isn’t a problem but I worry about Scarlett, Phil. She’s at the age where she wants to put everything in her mouth. You can’t have this on the floor,” Louise referenced the water bottle cap that was lying haphazardly on the ground by her feet. At the mention of his child, Phil nodded and sat down, putting his head in his hands. Maybe months ago, he could have cleaned everything during one nap time. But now? Now the mess had only grown and he couldn’t tackle it by himself. Not if he wanted to stay sane. Not to mention, every day was a day closer to Scarlett’s first birthday. And that was the day her American mother was due to visit. His place couldn’t look like this. Not for that. “What do I do?” Phil asked, knowing that this was a problem and that he should probably just suck it up. Louise looked at him and nodded, almost like she expected this question. She dug around in her purse for something, pulling out a business card between her index finger and thumb and handing it to Phil. “I think maybe you should call these guys,” she suggested as Phil took the piece of cardstock and inspected its black lettering. “It’s a little expensive but it’s worth it. They’ll come organize some of this stuff for you. Not to mention, they have this service where they’ll send someone every week. That seems right up your alley.” Phil looked up at Louise with a cautious glance. Could he really trust these people? “I promise, Phil, it’s safe. I used it when Darcy was about 15 months old. She refused to take naps and our house paid the price,” she stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “I know it’s hard. I get it. Cleaning is the first thing I cross off my list of things to do when I’m overwhelmed. But if it gets this bad, then maybe you need to stop hoping you’ll get the inspiration. Just pay someone else to do it.” She chuckled a little. She knew that Phil wasn’t exactly poor. He was just supporting the two of them and his Youtube channel wasn’t exactly a lower class job. “Plus, another great thing about this company, is that they hire young people that need part time jobs to do it. So most of them are college kids that are hardworking and looking for extra cash. They’ll have no problem finding someone for you.” Phil nodded and he stood up as well. It was nearing the end of their scheduled lunch and Scarlett was going to wake up any moment. Louise was out the door soon after the suggestion and Phil picked up his cell phone. He typed in the numbers that sat neatly at the bottom of the white business card and waited for the phone to ring on the other side. - It had been a pretty good week for Dan Howell. He had aced all his exams and he had officially been signed onto this part time gig where he could clean houses for extra cash. Dan had been living with his parents since he was 19 and this year, he decided to go back to school at Manchester University. He had taken a year out for his own personal crisis but without much motivation to do anything else, he re-enrolled and now he needed to pay rent. He was 20 and had just started his second year of University which was enough of an embarrassment. He didn’t need failure to pay rent on his list of problems. So when a friend suggested this service, he was on it straight away. He looked over the terms of the agreement and he was genuinely excited to work for them. The service was quite unique. Essentially, the company gets calls from people in need of a cleaning service, whether that meant picking up and organizing things or dusting and mopping. Dan had a choice between joining their standard cleaning crew or their premium. The standard cleaning crew went to houses on an on-call basis. When people needed a straightening up, they called the service and they were in and out in a day. It was cheap and easy, so it was no wonder people called so often. The premium service was totally different, however. If a person called and asked for a premium package, that meant they needed someone multiple times a week. In this case, a crew member was assigned to that house and they would be the residential cleaning person until no longer needed. They generally got paid more but it was certainly more of a time commitment. Dan didn’t have many friends and he wasn’t really into sports or extracurriculars. So when given the choice between the two crews, he chose the second and was now patiently waiting for the next caller that needed the service. The woman he signed up with on the phone told him that he was next in line and that someone would probably call within the next few days. Dan was happy to hear that and was kind of excited to see where he would be spending a few hours a week cleaning. The call came when he was swinging his feet off a wall on his college campus. He had stopped there to eat lunch but when he dug through his backpack, it turned out that he had forgotten his lunch after all. But his sour mood was flipped when he got his first assignment and he hopped off the wall immediately to start pacing as he talked to his management. The woman was going to email him the information he needed - the address, short details of the job, the hours, and he was to go over on Friday to meet the client. Ultimately, the client would decide what the final hours would be and he would supply Dan with the right cleaning supplies for the job. “Thank you so much,” Dan said to the woman on the other side of the line, hanging up and checking his email immediately. Sure enough, an email with an address was sitting pretty in his inbox and his short term career that would keep him just busy enough to forget how boring his life could be, was about to begin. He didn’t think he needed to dress up exactly, he was just going over to clean someone’s house for God’s sake, but that didn’t stop him from changing three times in front of his mirror that morning. He didn’t even know why he was nervous. He didn’t want whoever this person was to think that he was going to slack off and waste their money. He wanted to do a good job, probably because this was his first real job and partly because he wanted to prove something to himself. He was finally getting his life together. He took the bus to the Manchester flat that he was supposed to arrive at. He was an hour ahead of schedule but he didn’t want to risk some sort of mistake that could delay his arrival. While sitting on the bus, he thought briefly about the year out of Uni he had taken. When he originally told his parents that he wanted to drop out of Law School, they were upset, to say the least. They were loving, but they certainly had something to say when he told them he didn’t think that school was for him. Finally, after weeks of berating, he got through to them and they told him he could take a single year out and see where it led. And he had. He lived at home and did nothing, which gave him time to reflect on his life as a whole. His parents had given up the fight but Dan could tell they were itching to kick him out of the house and into the world. Just because he didn’t move out, didn’t mean he didn’t grow up. He spent a lot of time thinking and growing, but with no direction, he only came back to the conclusion that he had to go back to school. Not for law of course, but something liberal and possibly more fun. So he sent the University an email, and just like that, he was enrolled again. Starting classes in the fall. Of course, he didn’t want to live in the dorms, so he bought a flat with his savings and started searching for a job. One of the worst things about living at home, however, something he never really considered being a problem, was how lonely things got. Most people from Dan’s home town had gone off to University and then got jobs in those cities or found another place to live. This left Dan with little friends and not many people to talk to. No problem. Dan loved to be alone. He wasn’t even someone who ever had too many friends. But Dan was soon realizing that maybe it wasn’t just friends he wanted. He wanted someone he could cherish and relate to on more than a friendly level. He wanted a family and a dog and someone he could share things with one day. His brother never really cared for the whole “big happy family” image and it was time that Dan found something that could fill that hole. And here he was, on a bus in Manchester, going over to some person’s house who needed an extra hand cleaning up. It wasn’t exactly the perfect solution to his problem, but it was a step. Cleaning meant money, money meant rent, rent meant school and school meant friends. Yeah. This would work. So when the bus stopped only blocks away from the place he needed to be, he hopped off and checked the time. Still an hour early. The light traffic had only delayed him two minutes and he sighed. He couldn’t show up early. That would be unprofessional. He looked around the block and then spotted a green logo that he was all too familiar with. Starbucks. He shuffled across the street and into the comfortable building, idling in line behind at least 15 other people. Perfect. This would kill some time. It was then that he got an idea. Why not make a good impression? Hopefully, the person who hired him liked coffee. When he reached the front of the queue, he decided on his drinks of choice. “Two Caramel Macchiatos please,” Dan ordered, pulling out a wrinkled ten from his pocket. The lady began to make his drinks, slowly, which Dan secretly appreciated, and then handed them over the counter. Dan checked the clock. 20 minutes. That was the perfect amount of early, he thought, as he left the Starbucks and headed for the address he needed to be at. Finally, he arrived outside of the apartment, totally out of breath. He had to climb a few flights of stairs to get to this door and he hoped the person on the other side could appreciate that. Dan was not into exercise. Not even slightly. He hesitated, fixed his shirt, tucked one of the coffees under his wing and then hovered his fist over the door. Here goes nothing. Knock, knock, knock. There were an agonizing 23 seconds before someone fiddled with the lock on the other side. Dan straightened himself as best he could while he waited for the person, who seemed to be struggling, to open the door. Just before Dan thought the person on the other side was actually stuck, the lock clicked and the door began to part. And that’s when Dan’s stomach fell to his feet. The person he was staring at, was not just a middle aged man with a beer gut and bald spot as he kind of expected. This man was probably the closest thing Dan had ever seen to Godly. His black hair was a little ruffled and he clearly hadn’t slept well in a few nights, his eyes sinking in only slightly, but he had the most beautiful blue eyes Dan had ever seen. They pierced his own brown ones as they looked him up and down. Usually, Dan would find this rude, however, he would be a hypocrite if he accused this man because he was giving him a good once over as well. His blue shirt seemed purposeful to match his sparkling eyes and it seemed his jeans had faded. Dan wondered when the last time this man went shopping was and whether he actually cared. Dan hoped he hadn’t stared for too long, his eyes wandering back up to the man’s blue ones, waiting for him to say something. It seems he had gotten lost in thought as well and he startled Dan a bit with a little cough. “Wow. You really are young,” the man opened with, blinking a couple times as he backed up and away from the door. Dan didn’t know what he meant by that, but he decided not to let it offend him. He needed this job. If the guy thought he looked young, fine. That’s when the door swung open and the black haired boy nodded him inside. “Thanks,” Dan mumbled as he kept his eyes glued to the floor. He didn’t want to be rude, so he waited for the man to close the door and then walk in front of him and into the house first. “I-I…brought you some coffee.” The man paused and turned slightly towards Dan as they walked, glancing at the cup in Dan’s left hand. “Oh…you didn’t have to. I have a coffee machine here, in fact, I was going to ask if you-” “It’s a Caramel Macchiato,” Dan interrupted, cutting off the older man’s rambling. He stopped talking and blinked a few more times at the drink, taking it and sipping. “That’s amazing.” He grinned after tasting it and nodding. “Have you never had a Caramel Macchiato before?” Dan asked, surprised. This guy lived across the street from a Starbucks. That had to be a crime. But the man let out a hearty, but quiet, laugh. “Oh no no. I have, I have.” He took another sip. “It’s amazing that you knew it was my favorite.” Dan kind of blushed, happy that he could deliver this man something that he wanted. Even if he didn’t ask. That made him feel good. Like maybe this was a sign. “I’m sorry, I never introduced myself,” the man said after a silent moment. He put down the coffee and reached for Dan’s hand. “I’m Phil Lester. Thank you for coming.” “Dan,” He said only his first name, not sure why he would need to divulge his personal information to a stranger. Dan was cleaning Phil’s house, so knowing his last name seemed appropriate, but Phil wasn’t cleaning Dan’s apartment. So it shouldn’t matter. “Nice to meet you.” It was then that Dan remembered what he was doing here. He wasn’t just here to make small talk with some beautiful boy in this tiny kitchen. He was here to discuss his new employment. That was when Dan noticed. He glanced around the tiny kitchen and something in his brain clicked. This man was clearly a mess. His kitchen looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. There were things of all shapes and sizes on the counter. Phil’s coffee cup was sitting in the only free space that there was. And holy hell, if this guy’s kitchen looked like this, he didn’t even want to think about his lounge. It seemed that Phil noticed that Dan was now taking in his surroundings and it was almost like his face dropped and he looked a tad ashamed. “I know…I know…” Phil muttered. “This is why you’re here.” He gestured to the room and slumped, his hip hitting the counter where he was standing. To most people, this would look like a nightmare. Something that nobody would want to tackle. But Dan, he liked to organize, especially when it wasn’t his stuff. He laughed a little at himself in his head, kind of getting excited to clean up this person’s household. He was a curious guy and he secretly wondered if there was anything fun he’d be able to piece together while he went through Phil’s things. Then it occurred to him that maybe it wasn’t just Phil. Maybe there was someone else living here too. Someone just as messy. Wow, Dan really had his work cut out for him. “I can give you the tour if you’d like?” Phil said, his eyebrows up in anticipation. It was clear that he wasn’t really much for human interaction either. Dan was sort of relieved because this meant there wouldn’t be much pressure when he came over to help out. “But please do your best to be quiet. Scarlett is napping.” Ah, Scarlett. Perhaps that was this man’s girlfriend? Or maybe his wife…? Phil led Dan down the hallway and into the lounge where Dan was stepping over items of clothing. There wasn’t really a place to stand and if he was being honest, it was worse than the kitchen. There were things everywhere. And only a tiny patch of carpet over by the couch. Right next to the… What was that? Dan stepped closer as Phil watched and he realized that what he was staring at was a little swing. One for a baby. Dan glanced over at Phil who gave him no reaction, seeing nothing wrong with the objects littering his living room. Did Scarlett and Phil use to have a baby? Was that why Phil needed help cleaning? Was he afraid to touch any of the child’s stuff? It was not Dan’s job to ask questions, so he just shrugged and nodded. Thankfully, Phil spoke then. “So, for the first couple weeks, it would be great if you could come three times a week.” He looked around. “I kind of have a deadline. I need everything to be clean by the beginning of the new year. January first. You think that’s possible?” Dan nodded. Of course, that was possible. It was nearing the end of November and he was sure he could get this all clean by then. “So I’m thinking three hours a day? Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?” Phil proposed, cocking his head. “Unless you have other things to do on those days in which you can choose which-” “Sounds good,” Dan stumbled out, smiling and nodding. “No problem.” “Great!” Phil exclaimed, suddenly hushing himself by throwing a hand over his lips. “Are you free to start today?” Dan nodded and in his head, he tried to figure out what to start with. This was going to take him a few weeks to manage, especially if Phil and two other humans were trailing behind him and messing it up every couple days. But he was getting paid to clean up other people’s messes. He wasn’t complaining. This would work out just fine. Phil nodded, stood there for a second and then he cleared his throat. “Well if you have any questions, just ask. I’ll be in the kitchen making lunch. Do you like pancakes?” Dan gave him a singular nod, to be polite, and then watched as Phil scurried out of the room. He took off his shoes and put them in the corner of the lounge where they wouldn’t get lost among Phil’s objects, then he sat down in the middle. “Oh, and Dan?” Dan looked up at Phil’s head that had popped around the corner. “Do your best to be quiet. I don’t want to wake her.” Dan nodded and offered a half smile. Okay. Time to organize. - Phil made pancakes in the kitchen and took his time. Dan was sifting through objects in Phil’s house and for some reason, Phil didn’t really mind. He thought that this would bother him - the idea of someone going through his and Scarlett’s stuff. But Dan seemed like a nice guy who would mind his own business and stay out of Phil’s life. At least for everything that wasn’t cleaning related. Once he made a full plate of pancakes, he collected a little cup of syrup and walked into the lounge. He had learned to be light on his feet because of Scarlett but when he rounded the corner with the plate, it seemed that Dan hadn’t even noticed. Phil watched for only a moment as Dan sifted through a few things, tossing them into about four separate piles. One was baby clothes, one was toys, one was electronics and the other seemed to be just about everything else. The lounge’s state hadn’t changed much, however, at the speed Dan was going, Phil was sure that things could get done by the time Scarlett came to visit. “Pancakes are ready,” Phil spoke at normal volume, but Dan jumped almost entirely out of his skin. He nearly screamed, but Phil watched his hand fly up to his mouth, covering it and not making a sound. Phil would have considered how sweet this was if he wasn’t already chuckling. “Sorry. Didn’t meant to startle you.” “That’s okay.” Dan swiveled around and reached out for the plate that Phil was clearly in the process of bringing him. “Thanks.” “Sure.” Phil handed him the fork from his other hand and stepped over one of the piles to sit on the couch. He watched as the younger boy poked around on the plate and then started eating. “So…you in University?” Dan nodded, his mouth full of pancake. “Cool. Cool. I just got out of Uni,” Phil started, realizing that the boy before him was too busy chewing to respond to Phil’s questions. “I graduated with English Literature and film processing.” Phil saw the younger boy nod and he hummed in approval of the pancakes. “Yeah, it was pretty cool. Proved to be pretty useful,” Phil laughed. He didn’t want to tell Dan straight out that he made Youtube videos, but when he sat and thought about it for a second, the camera equipment might be a tad suspicious and he didn’t want to give Dan the wrong idea. Especially if the boy would be coming back three times a week. What if Phil was in the middle of making a video? Surely Dan wouldn’t want to be filmed without permission. It was only fair that Phil gave him a warning. “I should warn you now…” Dan looked up, his chewing paused, as if he was worried that the information would have to do with what he was eating. “…I’m a Youtuber. So I make videos relatively often. So if I’m ever going around with a camera and talking to myself or Scarlett, that’s pretty regular. Hence the…” Phil pointed to the electronic pile that Dan was probably wondering about. “And I promise I won’t film you or anything. I’ll make sure to cut you out of any shots.” Dan looked at him and cocked his head. Maybe he recognized him? Sometimes it took people a second. “What kind of videos do you make?” Dan asked him once he swallowed. “Oh just uh…vlogs. Sometimes I do little challenges or whatever…” Phil answered. He wasn’t used to people asking questions about his career. Usually, to avoid fan issues, he kept that information to himself. “I mostly like to videotape Scarlett.” Phil smiled to himself, thinking about the last vlog they had filmed together. He was teaching her to babble and editing that one was probably his favorite one so far. But he didn’t think that Dan wanted to hear about that. Dan looked confused for a second but he just went back to eating his pancakes. “Thanks for these,” he said, his mouth still filled to the brim with the fluffy breakfast food. It was lunch time but the boy seemed to be starving. Phil had no idea what this kid’s background was. For all he knew, Dan was working for him to earn money to eat. He didn’t know the demographic of this company’s employees. “No problem. I can try to have lunch ready for you when you come,” Phil offered. “If that will help you work faster.” He laughed at his own joke and Dan’s eyes widened. “Oh no, it’s okay. I just haven’t had pancakes in a while. These are hitting the spot.” So he wasn’t starving. Thank God. For some reason, Phil had some inclination to take care of this boy. Whether it was a paternal thing or something else, he fondly watched him eat the last of his pancakes. “So what are you in Uni for?” Phil asked him, Dan’s head shooting up with a terrified stare and then back down at the plate. He didn’t seem so thrilled about that question. Phil hoped that he didn’t overstep any boundaries. “Um…I’m not um…quite sure yet. I haven’t decided,” Dan stumbled out, his voice kind of breaking. Phil realized that maybe that wasn’t the best of questions anyway and he bit his lip. “That’s fine. I’m sure you’ll find something that fits!” Phil said encouragingly, their eyes meeting for a split second. “What made you apply for this job?” Dan picked at his fingernails. Uh oh. Was that too personal? God Damn it. This is why Phil wasn’t allowed to go outside. Surely he crossed a line. A person in his position shouldn’t ask those kinds of things. “I mean, you look really young. I didn’t know they let the younger Uni students have jobs like this. You know…so you can focus on your studies and such?” Dan blinked at him, his eyebrows up in confusion. To be fair, Phil wasn’t really sure what he was asking in the first place. He didn’t really know what he expected as an answer. “Not saying you are too young to handle a job, I just…” Phil swallowed, his word hole opening wider and swallowing him up. Phil decided he should let the man he was literally paying to clean his house, do the job he came for before he insulted him with any more personal questions. He stood from the sofa and took the empty plate from the boy in front of him. “Nevermind. I actually have to go…ch-check on Scarlett. I’ll leave you to it then.” Dan watched as he hastily left the room, Phil attempting to get out of there as fast as possible. He hoped he didn’t make things awkward by asking something too personal. He put Dan’s plate in the sink and then slumped over against the counter. Fuck. Human interaction was just as hard as he remembered. It probably didn’t help that this boy was very attractive. He thanked the universe that Scarlett was taking an especially long nap today and that Phil had a moment to walk off his ridiculously cringy conversation. He headed down the hallway and shut himself in his own room, sighing and falling back onto his bed. He hoped that Dan didn’t just leave after today. He didn’t have much other choice. - Phil was strange. It wasn’t that Dan didn’t like him, it was just that he seemed like someone Dan would make easy friends with usually. Dan was a tad socially awkward and this guy seemed like he leaked awkward from his ears. He didn’t really know how to stop talking and his brain seemed like it took on the same appearance that the rest of his house did. It was like his mind was in a constant state of clutter and disorganization. But Dan had a job and that was really all that mattered. He realized that the messier the person, the more money he’d get. Secretly, he was glad that he was assigned this guy’s house. This meant he had a job for a least a few months. That being said, this was going to be a hard job. Even after spending three hours organizing things into piles, he still only made a dent. Phil had ushered him out quietly after telling him that Scarlett would be waking soon and that Dan should leave before then. Dan agreed and told the man that he would be back on Monday to pick up where he left off. He almost told Phil not to touch his piles, but he assumed that was implied. He hoped that the mess wouldn’t cumulate by the time he came back. The other strange thing that Dan noticed was the way the Phil talked about his girlfriend. Scarlett seemed like she was very particular. Somone who needs a lot of quiet during a nap and someone who would be disturbed by another human’s presence after waking seemed like a strange person. Then again, Phil was strange so Dan supposed that it fit. He did wonder, however, whether this girlfriend of Phil’s was going to make it hard for Dan to do his job. Did she even know he was doing this for Phil? And what was the deal with all the baby things? Dan found so many little toys and outfits and he was sure that Phil would have mentioned another human being, baby or not, that lived with them. He was starting to think that maybe Phil was a little more than strange. Was he imagining an infant that lived with him? Was Phil crazy? Then something occurred to him. Phil was a Youtuber. He mentioned that he liked to film Scarlett. Maybe he could get a better grasp of the person he was dealing with by watching a few of his videos. In fact, it might help him with the cleaning process. He might be able to find homes for things faster if he knew the aesthetic of Phil and his family. So once Dan’s legs carried him back to his own (very clean) apartment, he hooked up his laptop to the TV and made a little bag of popcorn. Was this weird? Yeah, this was definitely weird. He was about to watch some videos of his boss and his girlfriend before he rifled through all of their stuff for money. Well. What Phil wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? He typed in Phil Lester on Youtube and a bunch of videos popped up. He clicked on the first video he could see and just let it play. He didn’t even bother with a title. He was so impatient sometimes. Two seconds into the video, Dan already felt like an idiot. There Phil was, gently talking to the camera and bouncing a very very young baby which he addressed as Scarlett immediately. Oh. He watched for a few more minutes and then when the video ended, the next one queued up to play. He read the title for this one; “Scarlett’s Origin Story”. Well, that could be helpful. He listened carefully as Phil explained a girl in America and their crazy meeting in the city. The story was funny. Phil seemed like a funny guy, but it dawned on Dan that this story didn’t really have the ending he expected. Phil started explaining, in a more serious tone, that Scarlett’s mother was not in the picture anymore and that they don’t actually talk at all. Baby Scarlett entirely belonged to Phil and she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Dan definitely was a sap, but it was moments like this that he hated to admit it to himself. He was awestruck by this story. Phil was such a genuine human being. He hadn’t even hesitated to adopt this child. Even though he had nobody to help raise it. He even admitted in the video that he was totally scared and that he had no experience with children at all. Dan supposed that might be why the man’s house was a mess. This guy had no idea what he was doing. Taking care of this child was the only thing he could ever think about because she was the only thing he had. Dan sat silently for a moment while his computer waited for him to click play again. He couldn’t believe that this person was the same person he was just conversing with. Phil wasn’t strange or crazy. He was just nervous and awkward. Just like Dan. Dan would never tell another soul, but he spent the rest of his afternoon watching every vlog this man had uploaded on his channel. In order. He watched little Scarlett in fast-forward through ten months of her life. He started with the videos Phil had on his channel before Scarlett arrived and even then, Phil seemed like such a wonderful guy. He was nerdy and played video games and liked all the same things Dan did. Phil was so cool. And having a child? Well, that just made him cooler. There was something tugging at Dan’s heart and he couldn’t tell what it was. Sure, maybe he had a little crush on the man he now worked for. He wasn’t afraid to admit that. But there was something else that he felt deep inside him and he was trying hard not to let that truth reveal itself. The weekend passed quickly as Dan tried to focus on his own school work, but he was very distracted by the thought of his Monday shift at Phil’s. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would meet the Scarlett that was giggling and babbling in the videos he had just watched. He wanted to maybe express to Phil that they had the same interests, without just going up to him and telling him he just crept on all his videos online. All weekend, he tried to think of a way that he could naturally bring it up. Some way he could mention that he also thought Pokemon was one of the best things ever and that he too found Muse the best band. When the time finally came, he raised his hand to knock on Phil’s door when he paused. Instead of the silence he heard before, he heard something akin to a tiny giggle coming from inside the door. His stomach dropped and he fought a smile, containing it to inside, then knocking on the door. There was a shuffle and then the door swung open. This time, the tired man that had greeted him was no longer there. Phil stood before Dan with a wide smile and rosy cheeks and was ushering him inside quickly. There was no baby in Phil’s arms, but when Dan rounded the hallway’s corner into the lounge, he caught sight of who he knew now as Scarlett. “I’m glad you could make it,” Phil said in a tone that was simply melodic. Dan turned away from the baby who was playing in her little swing and working slowly on a slice of banana (he knew now that Scarlett loved bananas), and over to Phil who was reaching out to shake his hand. He looked flustered and Dan smiled, shaking his hand lightly. “I see you’ve spotted my little pea.” Dan smiled at the nickname and turned his head again when Phil went to pick the young one from her little swing. “Come meet, Dan! He’s gonna be cleaning up after you, you little monster!” Phil tickled her little tummy and smushed a kiss into her cheek as he walked towards Dan with the giggling girl. He lifted a hand that was most certainly covered in banana and waved it for her. “Hi, Dan!” Dan was trying to look at Scarlett, the adorable child that was looking at him with these giant blue eyes, but Dan was quite distracted by the other pair of blue eyes that had landed on him. His great big smile was making Dan feel some sort of way, his stomach fluttering as every single person he’d ever met fell below this man before him. He smiled and forced himself to look at the baby, giving her a tiny wave. “Hi, Scarlett!” His voice raised an octave and Phil looked pleased. Dan would make that voice every day if he knew it would make Phil’s face look like that. “Your Daddy says it’s your mess, but I believe you. It’s mostly his, isn’t it?” Phil scoffed playfully and kissed the baby who was coincidentally laughing at Dan’s joke. “Ha ha. Don’t you have a job to do?” Phil’s laughter getting softer as he neared the baby’s ear. The baby squealed and giggled when Phil tickled her. “I hope we won’t distract you. I have a date with this little one.” His voice jumped up an octave and he leaned in to kiss Scarlett’s head as he placed her back in her swing. “We’re gonna watch some Winnie the Pooh, aren’t we??” Dan stood with a grin, blushing at the name of his favorite childhood show. Not only would Dan not mind, but he was actually excited to sit in a lounge and clean while he listened to Sterling Holloway’s beautiful voice. But he wouldn’t say that out loud. “Yeah, sure. N-no problem,” Dan stuttered out. He went over to the piles he had formed the other day, thankfully untouched, and was about to sit down when Phil stopped him. “Wait! Dan. Could you do me a favor? Pretty please?” Phil blinked up at him, his finger being sucked on by the 10-month-old child that was trying to eat a banana. “Could you just put the DVD in the player? I would but…” He gestured to the child that was now gnawing on his finger. “Please? It’s on the table. Right there.” Dan glanced at the coffee table and found the DVD that Phil was referring to. He didn’t say anything and grabbed the shiny object. He walked over and put it into the DVD player as Phil messed around with the remote, turning the TV on and adjusting the volume. “Thanks, Dan,” Phil said in his baby voice, pretending to be little Scarlett. “That’s okay,” Dan smiled and went back over to the piles. He sat down and began to fold some baby clothes from the first pile. Dan was wrong. This was no longer going to be easy. Cleaning this house with the distraction of Phil and Scarlett was going to be the hardest thing he’s ever done. Phil’s smile and the way he handled his child was something that Dan was going to have to fight not to watch. He had never seen someone glow the way that Phil was glowing. Scarlett was this man’s entire world and it was a wonder that he even noticed Dan at all. Phil’s tunnel vision for only his daughter proved to be a bit of an obstacle for Dan. Phil was smart enough to give Dan keys after a couple weeks, this way, even if Phil was out and about with Scarlett, Dan could let himself inside and do his job. And as Dan got more comfortable with the house, he was able to find where things went easily and he no longer had to be shown around. As far as the job went, Dan was just dandy. But soon he found himself arriving early, just so he could get more time around the two. He would tell Phil that he accidentally caught the earlier bus and that he figured he’d just get a head start. Some days, Phil didn’t even notice. It’s not like there was a clock on Scarlett and that was the only place Phil bothered to look. But that was also a problem. After working for Phil for about 4 weeks, Dan had learned a lot about the man. He was single and had been for as long as Scarlett had existed. His parents didn’t live too far away and he went up to their place nearly every other weekend to see them. It seemed that Phil’s video making schedule was pretty regular. Mostly dropping vlogs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, his followers always praising him for uploading twice a week. Dan was subscribed and wouldn’t miss a single video…even though Phil didn’t know that. Dan also noticed that Phil was on the phone a lot with a girl called Louise. For the first couple weeks, Dan guessed that maybe Phil was dating this woman, but that thought was shut down real quick when Dan overheard him mention something about not even being interested in women so much anymore. It was the next week that Dan actually met Louise. She came over without warning, which forced Phil to introduce the two when Dan arrived for his cleaning shift. She called him a Dear and Dan thought that she was also giving him a look - yet he couldn’t tell what that look was for exactly. She was blonde, pretty and super pregnant. She was going to be due “any day now” claimed Phil. He was just as excited for her child as she was and Dan thought it was adorable. Of course, Dan’s little crush became a big crush. It never faded as Dan hoped it might. He cleaned quietly while he watched the most beautiful man and his daughter live their lives. He knew that the two of them wouldn’t work - because he was a university student without any money and Phil was an established Dad with a high paying job but that made things dangerous because Dan didn’t hold back. He was convinced that any other human being would have caught on by now considering he wasn’t exactly subtle. But because Phil didn’t, it was a fun outlet for his little obsession. Phil was sitting at the kitchen table with Scarlett, feeding her Cheerios on a regular Wednesday while Dan was organizing the cupboards when Dan heard Scarlett squeal and throw the bowl at the ground. He was going to turn and offer to pick it up, but Phil had already risen and was bending over to pick it up. Of fucking course, Dan’s eyes landed on Phil’s ass and he tried to look away but he found that his eyes didn’t move. Instead of standing up and giving the bowl back to Scarlett, he stood and turned towards Dan who’s face went red and his eyes trailed to the ceiling when he thought Phil saw him staring. “Oh I know, the floor is so dirty,” Phil laughed, having assumed that Dan was just looking at the floor and not his own ass. God this man was so pure. “Looks like I know what you’re doing on Friday.” Phil winked as he rinsed off Scarlett’s bowl and refilled it with cheerios, only to sit back down and coo at the child who was flailing her arms and giggling. Dan got off easy that time and he figured it would be the last, but it turned out that Phil was just completely and utterly oblivious. That same week, Friday, once Dan was finishing his shift, he walked into the lounge to put away a stray wire he had found in the kitchen when he stumbled upon Phil who was making airplane noises and trying to get something into Scarlett’s mouth. “Scarlett, Baby, you have to eat this! Or the doctor is going to yell at us again,” Phil said, sighing with all the love he could manage. “Please. Be good for Daddy.” “What are you trying to feed her?” Dan asked Phil, the older man seeming to need the break. He sighed and turned to Dan who was reaching up to put the wire on a high shelf. He hoped that Phil was perhaps checking him out, but when he turned around, Phil was just looking at the back of his head. “Peas. The doctor said I need to feed her more greens. But she won’t do it!” Phil complained, turning his attention back to the baby. “I don’t want her to get sick.” Dan nodded, watching as Phil tried again, making a noise with his mouth as the spoon flew in and the baby took what was on it. Dan almost celebrated, but then Scarlett just spit the stuff back up and Phil dropped the spoon, sighing. “One day you’re gonna need to learn how to swallow!” Phil exclaimed, giving up and turning to Dan who was trying his hardest not to comment on that saying. He was still in University after all and he was ashamed that his mind even went where it did. But then Phil opened his mouth and Dan couldn’t believe what he heard. “You’re just like your mother.” If Dan had been drinking something, water would have been everywhere. Did Phil really just…? Dan swiftly left the room before he totally made a fool out of himself laughing and he finished up what he had been doing before he walked into the lounge. He left without saying goodbye that day because he couldn’t face Phil with the image that he had left in his head. If only Phil knew what he did to Dan. It was almost the end of December, only a few weeks left, and Dan had cleaned almost the entire house. The only rooms left were Phil’s bedroom and their bathroom. Dan planned to tackle the bathroom first because he figured that would be the least invasive, however, once he let himself in and he wandered down the hall, he realized that Phil and Scarlett were in the bathroom today. Dan thought that maybe Phil was just changing her diaper, as he sometimes did in the bathroom, but when he turned the corner and poked his head in, he nearly choked on his own breath. What he saw was too much, yet he couldn’t look away. On his knees, on the bathroom floor, Phil sat with his clothes in a pile on the floor beside him. He was wearing a soaked pair of boxers and his hair was dripping. He looked frustrated, but Scarlett was giggling inside the tub with bubbles covering her entire body. Dan would have said something, but he didn’t want the scene that was happening before him to stop. He watched as Scarlett threw bubbles at Phil’s head and as Phil wiped his face with a towel that wasn’t really doing much anymore. “Letty please. We have to get you rinsed off,” Phil tried to guide a cup of water over her head, but Scarlett squealed, thinking it was a game and flailing her arms. Phil huffed out a little chuckle, probably on the fence of thinking this was super cute and totally annoyed with his daughter. “This is not the time to be cheeky! Dan will be here any second and I want to be dressed.” Dan tensed up at the use of his name. He felt a little bad about creeping like this, but now that Phil said he didn’t want him to see him undressed, it would be weird if he announced his presence all of a sudden. She should have backed away and found something else to do, but his body wouldn’t move. “Ahhh!” Scarlett squealed, her arms rising above her tiny body as she grabbed at the cup Phil was holding. Phil smiled at her and shook his head. “Ah ah gah!” “Yes, Daddy’s gonna wash you off now, okay?” Phil tried again, this time somewhat successful. “Good girl!” Scarlett was babbling and clapping her hands in the water when suddenly she looked up and directly at Dan. She stilled and Dan panicked. Phil continued to rinse her off, smiling now because she was finally staying still. “You’re being so good for Daddy! Such a good girl!” He soothed her as he rinsed the last of the soap from her shoulders. Dan was still frozen. He knew he should have walked away, however, something told him to stay. He was about to just disappear down the hallway and pretend he had just arrived, but Scarlett had other plans. She squealed and lifted her arm, pointing at the door frame. “Dada! Da-Dan!” Dan’s eyes went wide and Phil’s head whipped around. Dan was going to retreat but it was too late. Phil had seen him and his face was going redder by the second. “Oh! Dan…I uh…” He looked down at his state of undress and blushed even harder. “I know you said you’d clean the bathroom today. I’ll be out of the way in…uh…” He glanced at a grinning Scarlett. “Just a second, okay?” Dan nodded and suddenly, his feet worked. He darted down the hall and made himself comfortable in the clean kitchen that had plenty of places to sit now. He felt kind of bad that he had just watched Phil bathe his child and he debated just leaving altogether, but before he could bring himself to do that, Phil appeared, frazzled and somewhat dressed, holding his baby girl in a towel. “Sorry…bathroom’s all yours,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “She was a bit much today. I tried to be fast.” “No problem…” Dan got to his feet and headed to the bathroom, slinking past the man who was still blushing. He got to the bathroom and shut the door immediately. The room was a mess but he didn’t mind. The longer he could be in there, the longer he could hide from Phil and that awkward conversation about why he was creeping on Phil during bath time. He cleaned for an hour and a half, the bathroom looking better than ever when he emerged. He wandered down the hallway to the lounge where he found Phil and Scarlett taking a nap on the couch. Dan almost winced at how cute the image was. Phil was snoring, his glasses sitting askew on his face while he cradled the young girl on his chest. Phil was much too tall for the couch, so his feet hung off the edge and Scarlett had her tiny fist in her mouth as she breathed softly. Dan was going to ask if Phil wanted him to try to tackle the bedroom today, but he decided he better not. He swallowed and cocked his head at the sight before him. It scared him how much he longed to be a part of this life. Sure, he liked Phil. The man was cute and considerate and the way he handled Scarlett was a massive turn on to Dan… but there was something else about this life that Dan craved. He looked at Scarlett and he felt something inside him flip. Something that made him entirely sure he wanted kids one day. Something that assured him that this was the life he wanted. Something that gave him the craving for someone like Phil. Something that drove him to pull his phone out of his pocket and take a picture of the two lying unconsciously on the couch. He felt wrong immediately but he couldn’t delete it. There was something so sweet about that picture and it only made Dan happier to know he could access it whenever. He left early that day because he felt bad. He’d done two creepy things in one day and he felt terrible about it. Who the fuck was Dan to take advantage of an oblivious father and his sleeping daughter? He only let himself look at the photo once while he was serving himself dinner for one, smiling at the memory of a father’s snores and a daughter’s smile. Phil called Dan and told him that he could take Monday off. Dan panicked because he thought it was because Phil felt uncomfortable, but really, Phil explained it was because Louise was scheduled to go into labor and Phil wanted to be there for the birth of her child. Scarlett just stayed with Phil’s parents when Phil returned from that weekend and joined Louise at the hospital. So when Dan appeared at Phil’s on Wednesday, he immediately asked how the birth went. Phil sighed and shook his head, bouncing Scarlett on his hip. “She hasn’t had the baby yet. The hospital said it’s not quite ready to come out yet,” Phil chuckled. “That’s how you know it’s Louise’s. It’s gonna make all of us wait on it.” Dan laughed. He didn’t know much about Louise, but he knew enough to know that Phil was right. It was certainly her child. “So you’re tackling the bedroom today, yeah?” Phil asked, Dan getting himself a glass of water. Phil kept offering during the first few weeks, so Dan took it upon himself to do it right away instead. Phil played with a lock of Scarlett’s hair as he talked. “I hope it’s not too bad in there.” “Can’t be worse than your lounge,” Dan joked, taking a sip of the water. “However, if there’s anything you don’t want me to see, go hide it now.” Dan winked and Phil laughed, but he was looking at Scarlett and not even glancing in Dan’s direction. “Scarlett and I are gonna-” His sentence was cut off when the phone rang and Scarlett let out a little wail. It had obviously scared her and Phil did his best to shush her while he answered. “Hello?” His eyebrows went up as he listened. Scarlett was whimpering and Dan was standing there wishing he could do something to cheer her up. He elected to make a face and Scarlett seemed to enjoy that. “Really? Right now?” Phil glanced at what was happening and tried to make a smile. “I-I…I can’t. You know that. I have Scarlett.” He kissed her cheek gently as the bouncing slowed. “I know…I want to be there Louise, but my parents live a few hours away and I can’t-” Phil sighed. “I know…” It suddenly clicked and Dan understood what was happening. Louise was going into Labor and wanted Phil to be there. “I’m sorry Louise. I know I said I’d be there…” Phil’s face had fallen and he looked really sad. “I don’t have a sitter and they don’t let babies in the room while you’re in labor.” Dan hesitated and he looked at Scarlett who was starting to sniffle the tears away. “But good luck. I know you can do it without m-” “I can watch her.” Phil looked up at Dan, his eyes blown wide. Almost like he hadn’t expected Dan to say anything of the sort. “What?” Phil asked, putting the phone to his shoulder. “I could watch her. Scarlett, I mean,” Dan clarified, blinking a few times at Phil who looked hesitant. “I…I couldn’t make you do that, Dan. It’s fine. Louise will be-” “Seriously. I’ll take care of her. Louise needs you,” Dan cut him off, pleading with his eyes. Phil never noticed him. He didn’t see Dan as anything but his housekeeper and if Dan was being honest, he wanted Phil to see him as something else. Someone who could take care of his daughter if he needed to. He didn’t know why, but he really really wanted to do it. “…you…wouldn’t know where everything is. I can’t ask you to-” “Phil. I clean your house. I know where everything is,” Dan argued. Phil looked like he was about to say something else, but Dan spoke so he couldn’t. “I know she needs a nap around 3:00 pm, I know she loves bananas and needs to be force fed peas, I know she loves Winnie the Pooh and that she’ll fall asleep faster when she’s lying on someone’s chest. I know she thinks it’s funny when you hold things above her head, I know where the diapers are and what it smells like when she needs a change. I know her bedtime is at 8:30, but it’s 9:00 when she’s napped for longer than an hour. I know she hates when you lie her on the ground and walk away but she loves the swing and can be in it for hours without getting bored. I know you give her the little marshmallows from Lucky Charms when she’s good and I promise you I know that you can’t leave her for longer than a minute.” Dan exhaled and Phil’s mouth dropped. “Please, Phil. Let me take care of her. Go be with Louise.” It was almost like Phil was too shocked to speak. He looked at Scarlett and put his forehead to hers. She leaned forward and gave him a little open mouth kiss on the nose and then both of their blue eyes were on Dan. “Okay Louise. I’ll be there in 15.” Phil hung up the phone and stared at Dan for a moment. “Her lunch is in the fridge,” Phil said quietly and then Dan was being handed the child who was grabbing onto his shirt to hold on tight. Phil stared at Dan skeptically as he started walking from the room and into the hallway where his shoes were sitting by the door. Scarlett squealed happily when one of her hands found Dan’s hair and she tugged. Dan laughed and he followed Phil with a little bounce in his step. “You have my number, Phil. Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her,” Dan kissed the young girl’s cheek and Phil stared for one more second as he put on his coat. Then he nodded. “I’ll be back in a few hours,” Phil said, his frazzled little wave made Dan’s heart melt. And then the door shut and Dan was all by himself with his second favorite human on the planet. - Phil rushed as fast as he could to the hospital. Thank goodness he only lived a couple blocks away. On every other occasion, he hated it because the ambulances always woke baby Scarlett. However, today, he could be with his friend in less than ten minutes and he was entirely grateful. While he was speed walking down the pavement, he thought about his housekeeper and his baby girl, his mind not above worrying. He trusted Dan. Dan had a key and he had been around them enough for Phil to know that he wasn’t going to rob or hurt or purposely injure his child. Dan was a good guy. Phil could tell that much. Phil was certainly surprised when Dan told him all of that information about Scarlett. Information that he definitely hadn’t told him. Or had he…? Phil knew he was pretty oblivious when it came to people that were not his daughter but it shocked him that Dan would even be willing to do this for him. It’s not like they had a really personal relationship. Not to mention, it seemed that Dan rarely interacted with Scarlett in the first place. He was always just kind of there. He supposed he’d rather that than hire a random stranger to watch his child. Phil ran into the hospital and went up to the receptionist, asking for Louise. She directed him to the E wing where he scoured the hall for Louise’s room. It was not hard to find because Phil could actually hear Louise before he found her room number. She did not sound thrilled to be there. He burst into the room and Louise’s eyes sparkled. Her smile told the doctors that it was alright for Phil to be there. She was huffing and puffing and Phil did his best not to notice that her legs were spread and that doctors were working their hardest to get her to push. “Phil…Phil…” Louise panted, her eyes shutting. “Distract me. Talk about something cheeky. Make me laugh.” “Okay…uh…Scarlett called Catherine Gan-um yesterday. That’s the closest she’s gotten to grandmother yet!” Phil said, getting a little excited for his own daughter’s accomplishment. Louise glared at him and then sighed, her eyes shutting from the pain. “Okay…Phil. I’m saying this because I’m pushing a watermelon through my vagina as we speak. I need you to talk about something else. Anything else. Tell me what you did in Uni. Tell me an embarrassing story. I can’t hear about Scarlett right now, Sweetie. As if I do, I might not be able to push this thing OUT!” She squealed the last bit of her sentence and Phil’s eyes went wide. He fished in his mind for something that wasn’t Scarlett related. For the past 11 months, his life had been nothing but Scarlett. So he was totally blanking. “PHIL!” “Okay…okay…uh…” Phil’s eyes shut as he thought for a moment. “Uh…Dan walked in on me nearly naked the other day.” Louise’s eyes opened and they landed on Phil. “ANd?” Louise’s voice cracked. She seemed interested. “And it was really awkward because I think he was standing there for a while and I can’t for the life of me understand why he would watch me give Scarlett a bath…” Phil mumbled as Louise blinked at him. “He offered to watch Scarlett today and I’m a little worried. He knows so much about her. I have no idea where he got all that information…” Louise was pushing and gripping at the side of the bed. “Phil…” Louise whined. “You’re such a fucking idiot.” Phil furrowed his brows. Usually, they tell you that you’re supposed to let the women who are giving birth insult you, but he wasn’t exactly sure he knew what that was for. “…what?” “I said…” Louise let out a little grunt and a half scream. “You’re a fucking IDIOT.” Phil didn’t know what to say. “W-why?” Louise was panting, but she kept speaking. “Dan…Dan likes you, Phil. He likes you a lot. I can see it in his eyes.” “He what?” “He likes you! Phil! He’s constantly looking at you. Whenever I’m over, it seems it’s all he’s doing,” Louise explained while she took a moment to breathe. “He’s not being creepy. He just cares. He cares enough to know what Scarlett needs. You are just too absorbed in your daughter’s aura that you can’t see his heart eyes.” “But he’s so young…” Phil said, shaking his head. Louise laughed. “That company only hires you if you’re over 20. He’s not younger than that, I promise,” Louise tried pushing again. “Besides…it doesn’t…matter…how old he is…if you like him…ask him…” She screamed. “OUT!” Her panting was getting heavier and Phil was trying to take in the information he was receiving and the birthing that was happening all around him.“Plus, when’s the last time you got laid, hm?” Louise squeaked, the doctors giving the two a humored glance. “I think you could use it.” “Almost there, Louise. You’re doing great. One last big push, okay?” One of the doctors coaxed her into pushing again, Louise’s face scrunching up.“Phil Lester, you’re a great…guy…but seriously. Open your fucking…” Louise screamed and her hand reached out and grabbed Phil’s. “EYES!” Phil bit his lip because Louise was a lot stronger than he anticipated, his hand crumbling under the pressure of her grip. That was going to bruise. But then, both of them froze when they heard the faint sound of a baby crying. Originally, Phil wanted to be here because he wanted to support his friend that had been here all along. But now he was grateful that he came because he missed the birth of his own child. This was the one thing in his child’s life that he missed and he was glad that he could be a part of Louise’s child’s life in this way. She already told him that he was the Godfather of her children and of course, she was Scarlett’s Godmother. But being here for this was something he could never have imagined. The baby was cleaned off and swaddled, getting returned quickly to Louise’s arms. Her tears were running down her cheeks and in that moment, Phil knew what it was like to see him with his child. Louise, who was previously entirely invested in his Dan story, now looked like she didn’t even know he was there. Phil smiled and reached forward to pet the little boy’s foot. He remembered when Scarlett’s feet were that small. He remembered her hand barely being able to wrap around his thumb. He couldn’t believe she had gotten that big that fast. “Congratulations, Louise,” Phil said, her smile bigger than it had been before. She was kissing the child’s head while it squirmed in her arms. “I’m sorry, Sir. We have to do a series of tests and if you aren’t family, I’m afraid you’ll have to sit outside,” one of the nurses told him. Louise didn’t even bat an eyelash and it seemed his job was done. Louise could thank him later and he could go home and check on Dan and Scarlett. He opened the door to his flat and heard nothing. For a moment, it concerned him that all the lights were out, but upon further inspection, he realized that the lights in the lounge were on. He crept into the lounge where he spotted Dan on the same couch he is usually sprawled on, holding a little Scarlett on his chest. She was freshly changed into pajamas and it seemed that she was sound asleep. Dan was also asleep, however, his arms were clutched around the baby as if not to let her fall. He was holding her so tightly that Phil was impressed. It took him months to master the art of holding his child and sleeping as well. He left them for a moment to go shuck his coat and his shoes. He checked the time. He was only gone for two hours and Dan wasn’t even technically done with his work day. He debated waking them, but then he thought about how waking Dan would also wake Scarlett and that he just couldn’t do. So he went to the kitchen and quietly made two sandwiches for him and Dan to share. He heard a little bit of shuffling from the lounge and Phil stayed quiet. He didn’t want to startle Dan so he waited to see if Dan would go back to sleep. Instead, Dan had gotten up carefully, a sleeping Scarlett in his arms, and carried her to her bedroom. He must have gently put her down in her crib because a few seconds later, he reappeared in the hallway as he slowly and carefully shut the door to her room. That’s when he saw Phil watching him. He blushed a little and watched his feet as he padded into the kitchen, smiling at Phil and noticing the sandwich on the counter. “Is this for me?” He spoke so quietly as if Scarlett was asleep right there in that room. Phil nodded as Dan rinsed off his hands in the sink and picked up the sandwich. “Thanks.” “No, thank you, Dan,” Phil said, not able to express his gratitude enough. “I’ll make sure I pay you extra for today.” “No, Phil, it’s fine. I had a good time. Really. Don’t worry about it,” Dan said, his mouth full of sandwich. They were still talking so softly that Phil actually leaned in to hear Dan better. “I really appreciate what you did. Louise was very happy that I could make it,” Phil explained. Dan nodded while he ate, his smile allowing a few crumbs to fall from his mouth and onto the plate. “Really, it’s no problem,” Dan said again, shoving the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and standing up straight. He seemed not to notice how close Phil had gotten to him until he stood. “I didn’t realize you knew so much about Scarlett,” Phil praised, wanting to express how impressed he actually was. “You’re really good with her.” “Well, I’m around you guys enough. It’s not terribly difficult to pick up,” Dan said. “N-not saying it’s not hard to be a dad…cause you do a great job it’s just…yeah…” Phil laughed lightly and nodded. “I get it,” he took Dan’s plate, his arm brushing against Dan’s as he did. “She didn’t give you any trouble, did she?” “Nope,” Dan smiled proudly. “I even got her to eat her peas!” Phil turned his head and nearly dropped the plate in the sink. “What?” He gasped. “You didn’t.” “I did. Look,” he pointed at the empty can of baby peas on the counter. “Seems like she’s better for me than she is for daddy.” Phil watched as the younger boy smirked. He couldn’t help but think about what Louise said. Dan liked him ? There was no way. “Maybe you have more uses than just a house keeper…” Phil said, wiping his hands off on the towel that Dan had conveniently hung on the oven’s handle. “I guess I know who to call when the doctor yells at us again.” “I’d be happy to help,” Dan said, his eyes making contact with Phil’s. For the first time since he’d met Dan, he finally was getting a good look at the younger boy’s eyes. They were light brown with little flecks of yellow that only showed themselves when the light hit them just right. His fringe was much like Phil’s but Dan’s was brown and he could just barely see his eyes through the right side. Phil smiled down at the boy and suddenly his mind reminded him of the way he found his daughter and Dan, sleeping on the couch in the lounge. There was nobody on the planet that was good enough for his daughter. Not even Phil. But right now, in this kitchen, he was staring at someone who might be as good as it got. Phil had never felt this way about another person before and it was clear that Dan was something special because of it. Phil decided, because he didn’t want to lose his chance, to lean in first. But thank God he did, because Dan was soon leaning too and then there was a kiss. A kiss that knocked Phil off his feet. Not literally, but when his arms wrapped themselves around the boy in front of him, it was as if he needed to hold on. Dan snaked his arms around him, the same arms that were only moments before, cradling his daughter. Dan was warm, from his lips to his hands to his chest, and Phil hummed as their lips moved against one another. Neither felt like they wanted to pull apart, but Phil didn’t want to get carried away just yet so he gently pulled back and let go of his gentle grip on Dan’s lips. He glanced at Dan who had his eyes shut and smile on his lips. Surprisingly, Dan spoke first. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for so long…” he admitted, his eyes opening and landing on Phil who was blushing. He didn’t just hand out kisses to everyone and this was kind of a first-time experience for him. Sure, Scarlett was a fairly sudden relationship but they only kissed after a week and a half of casual dating. Dan looked new to this as well and Phil was grateful for that. “You have no idea.” “Well, I’m glad you waited…” Phil scratched the back of his head. “How long…may I ask?” Dan chuckled and looked at his feet. “Since day one…” He didn’t sound ashamed. “But you didn’t notice, huh?” Now it was Phil’s turn to laugh. He shook his head. “Nope. I clearly wasn’t paying attention,” Phil sighed. “I get a little…wrapped up sometimes.” “I know…it’s cute.” Phil wasn’t used to being called cute. This made him very happy and he bit his lip. “So…does this mean you wanna maybe…” Dan started, trying to lead this conversation that Phil wasn’t exactly helping with. “Ask me out?” That’s when Phil’s face turned serious. He did. He really did. But there were some things Dan needed to know first. “Dan…” Phil started, Dan’s eyes meeting his. “My daughter is everything to me. Everything. And I like you. I really really like you. But you have to know that you will always come second to my daughter.” Dan nodded, completely comprehending this condition. “You must know that if you agree to be with me…you are also agreeing to be with my daughter,” Phil explained. “If that is okay with you…then yes, I suppose I do want to ask you out.” Dan did a little wiggle and he flung his arms up around Phil’s neck. “There’s nothing I would love more than that,” he said, his eyes sparkling the way Louise seemed to have noticed before he had. “And there is nothing I’d love more than to make you dinner tonight. Care to stay?” Phil asked, kissing the brown haired boy once more. “Absolutely.” - Dan had gone home that night completely giddy. Phil made him dinner and all three of them enjoyed each other’s company while they ate some ravioli. Dan showed Phil how he got Scarlett to eat her peas and Phil was forever grateful for the trick. He felt like he was walking on cloud nine. Dan was finally filling that hole that he so desperately needed to be filled. Everything was running smoothly. He was running his usual hour early on January 1st when he let himself into Phil’s flat. It was 10:00 am and Phil had told him to be there by 11:00. “Phil!” Dan shouted, hearing a baby’s laugh from the kitchen so he knew she couldn’t have been asleep. He rounded the corner and found Scarlett in her high chair chewing on some cheerios. “Phil I’m here!” Phil wasn’t in the room so Dan assumed he had gone to take one of his world famous fast showers. He could leave Scarlett in her high hair for about 5 minutes before she freaked out from loneliness. Dan reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a fresh banana that he had picked up from the Starbucks across the street. Along with a fresh Caramel Macchiato for Dan and Phil to share. He opened the banana and broke it into tiny, tiny pieces for Scarlett to eat. “Happy Birthday, Letty,” Dan kissed the top of her head and she grabbed at him. He pointed to the banana that was now sitting on her tray. “Here. Have some banana.” She squealed in approval as she picked up a piece with her tiny fingers. “You better be good for Daddy today. He’s stressing out a lot. You have no idea,” Dan watched as she chewed happily. “But I know you’ll be good for him because you always are, aren’t you?” Scarlett was coming from America today. She was planning to stay with Phil for a couple days and Dan had offered to help out. Phil took the offer graciously and Dan said he’d be over as early as he needed him. An hour early, in fact. The apartment was totally clean and it was all thanks to Dan’s hard work. He was happy to do it honestly, especially since Phil was rather stressed about their American visitor. Phil just wanted to prove that he was taking good care of their baby girl. Dan insisted to him that no matter what, Scarlett was happy and her mother should be too, but Phil was still nervous and Dan couldn’t blame him. Dan was sitting and sipping their coffee when a dripping wet and discombobulated Phil rushed into the room. He looked like he was ready to do damage control, as he didn’t know that Dan had arrived, but when he saw the younger boy sitting on the chair and he realized he was wearing only a couple towels (one around his waist and the other around his neck), he blushed from head to toe. “Oh…Hi Dan,” he smiled, his hand instinctively grabbing at the towel that was hanging low on his waist. “You’re here early…” “And you’re not dressed,” Dan stood and lifted the coffee to Phil’s lips for him, his partner taking a couple sips and smiling. Dan planted a kiss on Phil’s lips and they both turned to Scarlett who had released a giggle. “Go. Get dressed. I’ll watch her.” “You sure?” “Yes, you spoon, go,” Dan slapped the man on his ass lightly and Phil glared at him. “Hey. Not in front of Scarlett.” Dan rolled his eyes and turned around. “I don’t know, I think she wants to see you get beat. Don’t you, Letty?” Dan cooed, sitting down next to her. She clapped her hands and Dan raised an eyebrow at Phil. “No she doesn’t,” Phil whimpered, smiling at the little girl before him. “You’re a bad influence.” “Sure I am,” Dan smiled. “Guess who brought her a banana on her birthday?” Phil rolled his eyes and turned to head back down the hallway. Once Scarlett had finished eating all she could, Dan picked her up and shuffled down the hallway with her to find his boyfriend. He hopped on the unmade bed (that he promised he would make for Phil later) with his daughter. She lied on his stomach and garbled while Dan played with her little fingers. Phil came into the bedroom, dressed to impress, but Dan was far too distracted with Scarlett to notice. And that’s how Phil knew that Dan was perfect for them. He had won the love of Scarlett Lester.

#phan #dan and phil #domestic fluff #fluff #fanfic #phanfic #baby #Scarlett #singledad!phil #housekeeper!dan #fanfic request #for anonymous #merrydith #worksofphiction

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chocolatequeennk · 7 years ago

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Forever and Never Apart, 10/42

Summary: After taking a year to recover from the Master, the Doctor and Rose are ready to travel again. But Time keeps pushing them forward, and instead of going back to their old life, they slowly realise that they’re stepping into a new life. Friends new and old are meeting on the TARDIS, and when the stars start going out, the Doctor and Rose face the biggest change of all: the return of Bad Wolf.

Series 4 with Rose, part 7 of Being to Timelessness; sequel to Taking Time (AO3 | FF.NET | TSP)

Betaed by @lastbluetardis, @rudennotgingr, @jabber-who-key, and @pellaaearien. Thank you so much!

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9

Chapter Ten: Belle of the Ball

Donna laughed and held onto the TARDIS console as they flew through time and space. “Do you even have your license to fly this thing?” she asked the Doctor.

Rose stretched across two panels and nudged a control, and their flight smoothed out considerably. “Would you believe he failed the driving test?”

“No!”

The Doctor stuck his tongue out at her sarcasm.

“Oh, very mature, Spaceman,” Donna gibed. “How old are you, twelve?”

“Add two zeroes on the end, and you’ll come close,” he retorted.

Donna’s eyes widened, but she didn’t know why that should be a surprise. He was an alien, after all—who knew how his species aged? She looked speculatively at Rose, wondering if her “not exactly” human status meant she would live as long as the Doctor did.

They reached their destination before she could really follow that line of thought, and Donna straightened her sleeveless top and slung her bag over her shoulder.

“One more thing before we go out there,” Rose said.

Donna stopped with one foot on the ramp and turned around. “What’s that?”

“Do you have your mobile on you?”

Donna frowned in confusion, but dug in her bag and placed it in Rose’s outstretched hand. “I just thought I’d take a few pictures.”

“Hmmm… We can do better than your mobile for that,” Rose muttered absently as she pointed her sonic screwdriver at the phone. “Doctor?”

“Ah, yes.”

Donna looked back and forth at her friends, one of them messing with her phone, the other rummaging in a drawer. “What are the two of you up to?” she asked finally.

Rose smiled brightly as she slid her sonic screwdriver back into her bag. “It was time we gave you an upgrade,” she explained. “Universal roaming—gives you a signal from almost anywhere. And!” She flipped the phone open and tapped at it for a few moments, then handed it back to Donna. “I just added my number to your contacts.”

“You have a mobile.” Donna didn’t know why she was surprised, but somehow, she was.

Rose reached into her bag again and pulled out a sleek phone with a glass face. “Yep! A few years ahead of yours, but I wanted one with a good camera. Speaking of, Doctor?”

The Doctor grinned and handed Donna a small digital camera. “This will take much better pictures than your phone,” he explained. “And now, if we’re ready…”

Donna shook her head and dropped the camera and her phone into her bag. Of course they had better technology than she was used to—they probably had all sorts of futuristic gizmos. She wasn’t going to let her confusion get in the way of her shopping day.

“Oh, I am definitely ready for this,” she exclaimed as she jogged down the ramp and pulled open the TARDIS doors. Warm sunlight hit her face, and she sighed in delight.

“Welcome to Anguin,” the Doctor said after locking the TARDIS tight. “It’s just what you asked for last night—someplace warm, with lots of shopping.”

Donna grinned at the Doctor and Rose. After they’d taken a wander down memory lane, showing her their photo albums, they’d asked where she’d wanted to go next. With the cold of the Ood Sphere still settled in her bones, “someplace warm” had slipped from her lips before she even thought about it.

Donna reached into her bag and pulled out the oversized pair of sunglasses she’d tucked away that morning. “Right, you two. What do I need to know about intergalactic shopping?” She looked around at the alien city, with the business signs all translated into English.

“Well, you’ll need money for one thing,” the Doctor said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver stick about four inches long. “Credit stick, with 10,000 galactic standard credits.”

To the Doctor’s surprise, instead of taking the money right away, Donna crossed her arms and pursed her lips. “Donna?” he said uncertainly. “You want to go shopping, don’t you?”

“I haven’t had a job in weeks.”

The Doctor blinked at the seeming non-sequitur, but Rose plucked the credit stick from his fingers and pressed it into Donna’s hand. “Yes, you have,” she said firmly. “You save the universe with us. We don’t have a benefits package and sometimes, the hours are lousy. But we do try to offer some compensation, outside of the exotic travel destinations.”

Donna bit the side of her cheek and tapped the credit stick against her palm, then suddenly she smiled at Rose. “All right then.” She dropped it into her bag, then pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose. “Come on then, don’t just stand there! The shops are waiting!”

Rose laughed and linked her arm with Donna’s, and the Doctor shoved his hands in his pockets and walked a few steps behind them. Thank you, for understanding Donna’s worry and reassuring her, he told Rose. I’m rubbish at that.

Rose looked at him over her shoulder and winked. Yeah, but you have other talents to make up for it.

As they made their way from the outskirts of town into the main shopping district, he realised the city was quite a bit busier than usual. He had to speed up to not lose sight of Donna and Rose on the crowded walkway. Then Rose slowed down and beckoned for him to join them, so he jogged forward and took her hand.

“Is it just me, or does Anguin look a bit more festive than it did the last time we were here?” She pointed to the garlands of apples and dried wheat stalks adorning the lampposts and brick buildings.

The Doctor frowned and turned in a slow circle, tuning into his time senses as he did. When he pinpointed the date, he grinned and bounced lightly on his toes. “Oh, it’s Lammas!” he chirped, happy with the serendipitous landing.

“Lammas?” Donna said. “Like the old holiday in August?”

He nodded. “You’ll find echoes of Earth holidays throughout the galaxy,” he explained. “Either things colonists brought with them, or things expatriates brought home with them after a stint of life on Earth.”

Donna arched an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. “All right then, what’s this Lammas like?” she asked.

The Doctor started walking again, following the crowds of people walking through the streets towards the palace at the heart of the city. “It’s a festival. Food and games on the palace lawn all afternoon, then a ball inside the palace in the evening that’s open to every citizen of the province.”

“A ball?” Donna’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “An alien ball in a royal palace?”

“I think that’s what I said, yeah,” the Doctor teased. “That all right with you, Donna Noble?”

Donna raised an eyebrow. “You won’t be laughing when you realise what that means. I’ve got a credit stick in my pocket and a party tonight. We’re going dress shopping.”

oOoOoOoOo

“You didn’t buy a dress this afternoon,” the Doctor commented to Rose as he pulled on his crisp, white tuxedo shirt. “Are you going to browse the wardrobe room instead?”

Rose cracked open the door to the ensuite and peeked out at him, one loose curl brushing against the curve of her cheek. “Nope!” she said cheerfully. “I have a dress that I’ve been saving for the right occasion.”

The Doctor craned his neck, trying to see into the other room for a glimpse of this dress, but Rose laughed and closed the door firmly between them. He sighed and ignored the anticipation coiling in his stomach, focusing on getting himself ready to go instead.

He was leaning down, peering in Rose’s vanity mirror and getting his hair to stand up just right when the ensuite door opened again. Before he could turn around, Rose issued a silent request for him to stay where he was. He could hear the whisper of silk as she walked across the room, and he tapped his fingers against her vanity while he waited for her to be reflected in the mirror.

A moment later, she appeared behind him, a vision in shimmering silk. The Doctor sucked in a breath and spun around, his mouth gaping open.

“Do you like it?” Rose ran her hand down the front of her dress, drawing his attention to the way the colour shifted through shades of blue from deep cobalt to pale sky blue before fading into a pearlescent white skirt. She took a step towards him, and the soft skirt swished around her calves as she walked.

“You’re gorgeous, love.” When he held his hand out for her, Rose took it and twirled slowly under his arm before sliding into his embrace. He caught some of the dress between his thumb and forefinger, enjoying the cool, slippery texture. “Ekbrilon silk?” he asked, noticing how the light caught and reflected off the fabric.

Rose nodded, and the curls piled loosely on top of her head shifted with the movement. “Like I said, I’ve been saving it for the right occasion.”

The Doctor ran his fingertips along the line of her right shoulder, left bare by the strapless dress. Then he traced a line over her clavicle to rest over her breastbone, smiling when the touch pulled a shiver from Rose.

He reached back to the vanity and picked up the new necklace the TARDIS had left out. “Well, now I know why she suggested you wear this today,” he said, holding up the string of blue topaz, sapphires, and diamonds. Rose reached out and touched the delicate necklace, then turned around so he could put it on for her.

When she turned back around, he held up his arms, demonstrating his still undone cuffs. “Help me out now?”

Rose tilted her head and frowned slightly at the Doctor. He was more than capable of putting on his own cufflinks, so why… “Oh!”

He nodded and handed her the box containing his anniversary gift. “I haven’t had a chance to wear them yet. That might be part of the reason we’re going to a ball tonight, actually.”

Warmth spread through Rose as she took the first cufflink and fastened it on his left wrist. “I’d never designed jewellery before,” she said as she snapped it into place, then moved onto his right wrist. The white point star at the centre of the rose was dazzling.

“I love them,” the Doctor told her. He twisted his left arm so he could see the cufflink and ran his finger over the Gallifreyan characters engraved around the base of the piece.

Rose sighed when he reached for her, cupping her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones, and she shifted closer to him, resting her hands over his hearts. “You are my forever, Rose,” he whispered, then he lowered his lips to meet hers.

The kiss was soft and tender, inviting Rose to melt into his embrace. But when she slid her hand up over his chest and didn’t find the lapel of his jacket to grab onto, she remembered he still wasn’t ready to go. Reluctantly, she stepped back, putting her fingers over his lips when he tried to kiss her again.

“Let’s get your bowtie done and your jacket on, and then I bet Donna is already waiting for us in the console room.”

oOoOoOoOo

The royal ballroom was everything Donna had dreamed of. A gleaming wood floor for dancing, sparkling chandeliers hanging from above, floor to ceiling windows with the curtains currently pulled back to let in the remaining daylight… She craned her neck and spotted groups of tables off to the side of the room, where tired dancers could sit and enjoy punch or refreshments.

“Oh, it’s brilliant!” she breathed.

The Doctor chuckled. “Anguin is definitely a beautiful planet,” he agreed.

Donna watched the couples dancing and ran her hand over her blue and green dress. She’d purchased it with the thought that its swishy skirt would be perfect for dancing, but going to a formal ball with her married and very much in love friends, she expected to be the third wheel.

The Doctor looked from her to the dance floor to Rose, and Donna sighed. However, just as she opened her mouth to tell them they should go dance and not worry about her, a tall, handsome man with dark curls approached them.

He bowed, just slightly, then smiled at Donna. “I hope you forgive my boldness, but when I saw you enter, I knew I needed to introduce myself. I am Regan.”

“Donna. Donna Noble.”

His smile revealed white, perfectly straight teeth. “Donna Noble, would you honour me with a dance?”

“I’d love to!” she answered, taking Regan’s hand and letting him lead her onto the floor. Once they were in position, she glanced around and spotted Rose and the Doctor just a few yards away. Then the music started, and she focused her attention on her partner.

The steps were new to her, but Regan deftly led her through the moves, and after one turn around the dance floor, Donna was keeping up with most of the other couples.

“You have learned very quickly, Donna,” Regan praised. “Most off-worlders take more time to grasp the basic footwork of this dance.”

Donna cocked her head and looked at him. “Hang on. How did you know I’m an off-worlder?”

Regan chuckled and gestured to Donna’s hair. “You and the friend you came with both have pale hair. Every native Anguinne has dark hair.”

Donna glanced around the ballroom. There were a few people with blonde or red hair, but most of them were shades of brown. “Well, that explains why the dress shops were so excited when I was looking for a dress this afternoon,” she muttered, more to herself than anything.

Rose caught her eye and winked as they passed each other on the dance floor, and Donna laughed merrily. When the dance was done, another man took Regan’s place, and she finally accepted that her prediction for the evening had apparently been completely wrong.

The second dance ended, and to her surprise, Rose walked over to her and held her hand out. “Would you like to dance?”

Donna had noticed that the locals didn’t seem to care about the sex of their dance partners. Still, she hesitated. “Where’s the Doctor?” she asked, not wanting to get in the way of their evening. “I’ve got plenty of people to dance with.”

Rose waved in the direction of the refreshments table. “He’s in line getting something for all three of us to drink after we’re done dancing.” She raised an eyebrow. “Assuming you want to dance, that is.”

Donna leaned back so she could peer around the crowd and spotted the Doctor at the end of a long line. “Absolutely,” she told Rose, a wide smile crossing her face.

They took to the dance floor together and watched the other couples for a moment before copying the steps. This dance was different from the others, more like country dancing. Once they’d joined in, they both laughed. Donna spun around Rose, copying half the dancers, then Rose took her hand again and they twirled around the floor.

It was Rose’s turn to spin while Donna stood in place, and she stared, mesmerised by the unique fabric. “That dress is gorgeous,” she told Rose once they were hand-in-hand again. “I love the way it shimmers, like it’s been sprinkled with glitter.”

Rose held her skirt out with her free hand. “There’s this planet called Ekbrilon,” she explained, “and there’s… something in the soil, something luminescent that makes the cotton and the silk sparkle.” She dropped the skirt, then nodded at Donna’s dress. “You look lovely, too, Donna. I didn’t say earlier.”

“Why, thank you,” Donna said, spinning so her skirt would billow out around her, then adding a curtsey to her dance steps.

They talked and laughed for a few more turns around the floor, then Rose’s expression sobered. “And how are you liking life on the TARDIS so far?”

Donna titled her head and pretended to consider, then shook her head when a frown creased Rose’s forehead. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “Hot water that never runs out, the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in, and a media room that has every single episode of AbFab—including the ones that haven’t been filmed yet back home. What’s not to love about this life?”

Rose raised an eyebrow. “Getting kidnapped by priestesses and tied to an altar for sacrifice? Handcuffed to a pipe and nearly electrocuted by the power of an alien mind and his translator ball? I don’t know… things like that, maybe.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but we talked about that. You have to take the bad with the good, right?” She gestured around the ballroom. “And believe me, from where I’m standing right now, the good definitely outweighs the bad.”

“Excellent!” A relieved smile crossed Rose’s face, but a moment later, it faded when she caught sight of something over Donna’s shoulder. “Of course, that could all change in an instant,” she muttered. “The Doctor is over there, talking to the crown princess. This is the part where he’ll either impress her with his knowledge and she’ll invite him to become her chief advisor or something, or he’ll unwittingly stumble into some kind of social faux pas and insult her.” She smiled wryly at Donna. “What I’m saying is, be ready to run.”

oOoOoOoOo

The Doctor sighed impatiently when the person in front of him at the refreshments table ordered so many drinks they had to give her a tray. But finally, it was his turn, and he got three glasses of the sparkling punch Rose had requested.

Holding them carefully, he walked along the edge of the ballroom to the small alcove where tables were set up. He found three empty chairs and set the glasses down before taking a seat.

From where he sat, he could watch Rose and Donna as they swished together around the ballroom. A ginger and a blonde dancing together were easily the most striking pair on the dance floor. Judging by the looks they garnered from the Anguinne as they moved together, he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“Is this seat taken?” a stranger asked, pulling him away from his pleasant observations.

The Doctor blinked and looked at the young woman. His eyes widened when he recognised the tiara that declared her status as the crown princess. “No, Your Highness. I’m saving these two,” he added, gesturing to the chairs on either side of him, “but that one is free.”

She nodded, then pulled the chair out and sat down across from him. “You are not from our world,” she observed. The Doctor frowned, and she pointed to the floor. “I saw you arrive with the other off-worlders.”

“Ah. No, we’re travellers.” The Doctor waved at Rose as she and Donna swept past them. “Rose and I wanted to take Donna to a real alien ball in a royal palace, so… here we are.”

The princess watched the women for a moment, then sighed wistfully. “Your wives are… very beautiful.”

“Oh, I’m only married to the blonde,” the Doctor corrected automatically. “Donna is our friend.”

The princess blushed. “I apologise for my mistake.”

The Doctor shook his head and nodded at Rose and Donna. “I suppose, with them both wearing blue they look like a couple who’d planned complementary outfits.”

“And they are obviously at ease with each other.” The princess looked at the women, then at the Doctor. “And… Does Donna have someone at home waiting for her?”

The Doctor opened his mouth to say no, but just in time he caught the speculative gleam in the princess’ eyes and remembered one small bit of Anguinne culture he’d almost forgotten.

He nodded fervently. “Excellent bloke named Lee,” he rambled, grabbing the first name that popped into his head. “Absolutely head over heels for her. He’s planning to ask her to marry him the next time we’re home—can’t get him to talk about anything else.”

Meet me at the door, he told Rose.

With one last smile for the princess, the Doctor stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I forgot that Rose asked for something to eat along with her drink.”

The princess blinked and opened her mouth, presumably to protest his hasty departure, but the Doctor didn’t stay to hear what she had to say. He skirted around the edge of the dance floor before she could realise he wasn’t going to the refreshments table after all, and was relieved to find Donna and Rose at the door, like he’d requested.

“Come on,” he said in a low voice, taking Rose’s hand in his right and Donna’s in his left. “Back to the TARDIS.”

They nodded at the guards as they passed through the outer gate, and he breathed a little easier once they were in the street. Still, he kept them going at a fast pace through the empty streets, not wanting to be detained.

“Oi! Slow down!” Donna protested, pulling her hand from his. “Some of us are wearing heels, you know.”

The Doctor shook his head impatiently and looked back up the street. “I’m sorry, Donna, but you really want to get to the TARDIS.”

“And why’s that?” she challenged, her hands on her hips. “Rose said you might accidentally insult the princess. What did you say to ruin our evening?”

The Doctor scowled at her. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours,” he snapped. “There’s a tradition on Anguin that the crown princess can marry any unattached person she chooses, and she took a fancy to you.”

“How’d she know I’m unattached?” Donna threw her hands up in the air. “How do all the aliens always know I’m single? Is there some kind of invisible sign that reads, “Human female, single?”

“Well actually if you must know, she assumed the three of us were married,” the Doctor retorted, exasperated by her questioning. “I forgot about that tradition, or I wouldn’t have corrected her.”

Rose laughed, while Donna gaped at him. The Doctor rolled his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. “I doubt she’ll go to the effort of sending guards after us, given that she hadn’t even been introduced to you yet. But I’d really rather not be proven wrong. So, could we maybe pick up the pace and get back to the TARDIS, before Rose and I are left to execute a rescue operation?”

The sarcastic tone of his voice pulled Donna out of her daze. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Good!”

The TARDIS was only another five minutes away, and Donna tapped her toes anxiously while he unlocked the doors. As soon as the door was open, she pushed past the Doctor into the TARDIS. He looked at Rose and rolled his eyes as they followed after her.

“Eager enough to be back now, are we?”

Donna rested her hands on the console and leaned forward. “Well, I’m flattered by all the interest, but I’m not keen on staying on an alien planet the rest of my life. So if you could maybe get us out of here?”

The Doctor snapped a mocking salute, then he spun around the console and put the TARDIS in the Vortex. He watched Rose as he moved, feeling her amusement close to bubbling over and wondering what she was thinking.

She didn’t make him wonder long. As soon as they stopped, she leaned back on the console and grinned at Donna. “So. First time being propositioned by a member of an alien species. How do you feel about that milestone, Donna?”

Donna had been brushing invisible bits of lint off her chiffon skirt, but at that question, her hands stilled. She looked at Rose through narrowed eyes. “You mean things like this happen… a lot?”

Rose shrugged. “I wouldn’t say a lot, but yeah. We’ve all been chatted up now and then.”

Donna snorted and shook her head. “Well I didn’t travel with you as some kind of… alternative dating site.” She tipped her head and tapped her finger on her chin. “Although… my mum would go mad if I married some bloke from outer space.”

“Welllll…” the Doctor drawled. “If it helps, I told the princess you were almost engaged to someone named Lee. Something to keep your eye out for, maybe?”

Rose chuckled, then spun around and sashayed towards the corridor leading to their bedroom. “I’m gonna change into something comfy, then maybe we can meet in the media room for another first, Donna—your first glimpse of intergalactic cable.”

#ficandchips #ten x rose #dwfic #series: being to timelessness #cq's fic: forever and never apart #fluff #humour #this is a lighthearted chapter #in between adventures #though there's still a little bit of running #donna noble #fic by Nancy

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