Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 50

As she let herself into the passenger seat of the car, I made my way back into the house to check we had left nothing behind. The house was hardly suitable for her. Rotten wood gave each room an unusual fragrance and rats roamed freely. Yet, somehow we had been relatively happy here, despite the stress. Leaving this early was never really meant to be on the cards and the places I had lined up next were even less suitable for her.

I thought back to my past life. What would life had been like if I had met her while I still had my job? Where I could provide her with a comfortable place to live? To make a life? As I thought, I remembered my past girlfriend. The girl I had thought I had loved. MC was like the complete opposite to her. I wondered, if I had met her during this time, would I have felt the same way about her? Would her stunning being have captivated me in the same way or would I have been blinded by my then girlfriend? I liked to think we were meant to be together. That I would have realised this as soon as I saw her, spent time with her. After all, the time we spent together, even online, had so inexplicably drawn me to her. She was meant for me.

As I considered all that had happened, I knew we had to be completely open with each other from now on. We were made for each other, so the only way forward was to stop playing games, stop trying to throw ourselves on our own swords, and let each other in on everything...even if it was painful. Finally, as I said goodbye to our home, I put my mask on and pulled my hood up then made my way back to the car. From now on, she would have as much control over our future as I did. Entering the car, I found myself oddly on edge. It was hard not knowing where our next safety net would be. I pulled my seatbelt on and began to drive. As I did I announced, “We are heading to another warehouse near the prison. I don’t want Dan to know where we will be staying, so we will only be there temporarily while we meet him and find out what is going on.” She watched me as I drove, but I didn't reply. It felt good to let her in on everything, alleviating a little of the stress I was feeling. She was incredible.

As we arrived at the warehouse, it was still deserted. I looked at her warily, then undid my seatbelt , removed my mask and pushed her cap to the side. I then pressed my lips against hers, needing the comfort and warmth her love always gave me. As my lips moved against hers, she let her tongue slip into my mouth. The very action increased my need for her, and as my tongue wrapped around hers, she hungrily accepted it in her mouth. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she tried to pull me closer to her. If this continued much longer, I might not be able to prevent myself from taking her right here in the car. Finally, the sound of a vehicle approaching forced me to pull back slowly. “You’re my life, never forget that,” I announced softly as I returned her cap and my mask to their rightful place. The words felt almost like a goodbye.

I opened my phone and flicked a new message to Dan. I then drove towards the warehouse, leaving the car briefly to force the delivery doors open. Hopping back in the car, I drove us inside and waited while Dan pulled his own vehicle in to join us.

Leaving the car, I led the way into a small office I knew to be off to the side. I had spent some time in this warehouse a while back, early on in our investigation. It was close enough to Duskwood that I could get there without too much trouble. There was a seat already in the office space. It was the most comfort that I could give her. As she arrived, I was wiping off the chair with my hoodie sleeve. I motioned for her to sit, not saying a word out loud as Dan joined us. I disappeared for a minute and returned with another couple of folding chairs. These would be more uncomfortable than the one I had given MC, but that didn't matter. I set these up for myself and Dan, then sat myself as close to her as I could.

Dan plonked himself down on his own seat. He eyed her and myself, moving his gaze back and forth. “So, I knew you’d be with him. I was fairly sure that was the whole reason why you had disappeared. You found him,” he announced, directing his comment at her knowingly. This infuriated me. He was making assumptions about all that had happened, none of which would be accurate. I began glaring daggers at Dan taking her hand protectively. He had no fucking idea who he was messing with. She sighed. “Actually, it wasn’t initially in my plans to ‘find Jake’, it just happened due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Dan shrugged in response. “Is that something that he told you to say?” he asked, staring pointedly at me.

My hand clenched tighter in hers as I met Dan’s gaze unwavering. As if I would try and control her speech. Her thoughts. Those beautiful moments where she could infuriate, intrigue, captivate and express her undying love. I would never try and control that. Especially now I had made the epiphany earlier where I would share everything with her.

“No, actually if Jake hadn’t found me, I might well have been dead by now.” she muttered darkly. The statement wasn't entirely accurate. I had no doubt that she would easily have survived, even with the gunshot wound to her leg. She was lying to Dan, for me. I glanced at her, my mask sheltering most of my expression but I knew my eyes would be lit with the smile my mask hid. Dan’s eyes widened briefly but he stopped talking and looked at her instead of me. “That's a story for another time...so...,” she began, then paused. Both Dan and I waited patiently. She cleared her throat then finally began speaking once more.

“Urgh, okay so I want to go in and see Phil. The problem is, the man without a face has been hanging around the prison.” she stated firmly, then glanced at me. I knew she was weighing up whether she should let Dan into anything else that we had done. I trusted her to make the right decision. When she didn't continue talking, I smiled behind my mask. She had protected the knowledge we had.

“Fuck,” Dan cursed, slowly letting out a breath. “That makes sense.”

“Wait, what?” she asked quietly.

“Well, where do I even begin?” Dan sighed, pausing to look at her and I.

"You should start at the beginning," she grinned and glanced at me. This small statement almost had me laughing out loud. Though the conversations at the time had been tense, this small statement had lightened even them at the time. I took hold of her comment and replied. "A very wise place to start," in my usual dry tone. It made her laugh quietly and even more importantly, it seemed to infuriate Dan. I snickered both at her happiness and Dan's anger. "Jake," she growled as Dan moved forward in his seat as though he was going to smack me. My name on her lips never failed to make me happy, even when it was tinged with mild frustration. This time, I knew the frustration was merely superficial. "Forget it," she muttered to Dan. "Call it an inside joke. Now can we keep going on this?"

"Is he going to keep being an obnoxious asshole?" Dan asked, looking at her but pointing a thumb towards me. I was momentarily thankful for my mask, once again, as I was grinning broadly at this statement. "Dan," she groaned, then before I could retaliate verbally, she continued. "Both of you, this is for Hannah's best interest remember... and my own damn sanity." I caressed her hand in acknowledgement of her request. She was right, there was no sense in drawing this out any longer than we had to. Though, I really did like irritating Dan. I lowered my eyes and refused to look at Dan, trying to keep his obnoxious face from causing me to wind him up further.

"Dan?" she questioned.

"Yeah okay, if he can behave himself, so can I."

"Okay, so Phil called me while I was still in hospital, yeah. He was trying to convince me he was innocent. I told him I would try and help out once I got out of hospital. Well, it turned out that I was released not long after so I called Thomas to get me since that fucking crowman tampered with my ride." Dan paused and glanced at me, I remained silent with my eyes down. She squeezed my hand lightly and I smugly turned my head briefly to look at her. I loved how she was so willing to be affectionate in front of other people, especially Dan.

As the silence began, I knew she wouldn't be able to resist trying to find more information. "So, what happened?" she questioned. I knew her so well.

"Well, when Thomas got me, I could have sworn I saw the feathery dumbass out of the corner of my eye as we were leaving. Since then he has been popping up here and there. Nobody else believes me, for some reason he is practically invisible to everyone else." Dan sighed, glared briefly at my hand resting on hers, then lowered his eyes to the table.

"Shit," She murmured. "It's all to do with Phil, isn't it?" I wondered if I had missed something. The last I remember was it all being to do with the man without a face following Dan.

Part 51

I miss you

Idk how to even start this except for: I'm so SO SO sorry @melyaliz thank u for being so patient with me 😖💕✨ this year has been hard for all of us, online school is much more difficult than I initially expected but I would keep trying my best! Hopefully you will grant me the possibility of keep writing this amazing characters of yours even though your experience with me as a writer hasn't been the greatest :c , then again thank you for your patience, happy holidays! And happy new year! Hopefully this will be a better year for all of us. 💕✨

Faith is @melyaliz OC!

It started a few weeks ago, his obsession. Tim had been trying to get information regarding Black Mask's newest plan.

—I trust you, Tim— were Bruce's last words before leaving to attend urgent matters with the Justice League, this time in space.

And since then, he worked more diligently than ever before: going undercover and placing microphones and trackers at locations in the false-face society, interrogating thugs, hours glued to his computer trying to figure something out.

While this behavior was not unusual for Tim, Faith began to worry ... call it a hunch, perhaps a gut feeling but something told her this would not end well; however, she tried to bury it and pretend that it was simply her usual concern for Tim's habits and that once it was all over, things would calm down.

But the end was only the true beginning of things.

That night Tim was in the Batcave as usual, and the rest of the family were preparing to patrol, when they suddenly heard a scream of anger and frustration.

—No! No! No! Fuck you!—

Silence invaded the mansion and was only interrupted by the sound of Batmobile's tires screeching and running at full speed.

—What's the deal with him? —Damian (already in his Robin suit) asked while trying to look through out the window, but the vehicle was already long gone.

Faith wasted no time and sprinted towards the Batcave.

And there it was, on the screen of the Batcomputer a giant, green, question mark. Riddler.

In the morning the news reported Riddler's arrest at the hands of Red Robin but it wasn't until 4 days later that Tim returned to the mansion; Physically he was fine but his ego and self-confidence was beyond bruised after what had happened and the information he managed to gather from Riddler's lair:

Tim's efforts had been all in vain, Riddler had caught up to Black Mask's suspicious activity recently and also to the fact that Batman seemed to have disappeared, so he devised a plan, surprisingly alongside Cobblepot in a deal (the details of which Tim was unaware) that seemed beneficial to both. Riddler started a little investigation on his own trying to find blackmail material ... until ... he hit the jackpot. One of his undercover henchmen had been interrogated by Tim alerting Riddler of Red Robin conducting an investigation as well, so ... He did a little digging and found out that Red Robin had been longer in this. So why not just take it? That night Tim had unveiled the last piece of the puzzle in Black Mask's plans, when suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the computer started to go crazy, sending every piece of information to (apparently ... but not really ) different directions ending with the screen showing the infamous green question mark.

Out of frustration Tim tracked down Riddler, throwed him on blackgate, recovered most but not all the stolen information and piced it all together.

He felt enraged, stupid, mocked, useless. Why haven't he realized about Riddler spying on him? He was foolish! The safety of the Batfamily could have been in danger have he been even more careless than he already was! His brothers, His mentor, His family ... His beloved Faith ... he had disappointed them all.

Everything went down hill from there.

His bad self-destructive habits went from 60 to 1000, He talked, ate and slept much MUCH less and although various family members had tried to converse with him, they were simply ignored, including Faith.

At least 2 hours had passed, she watched; his fingers danced fleetingly and aggressively on the keyboard, his green eyes glued to the monitor, he hadn't looked at her even once since she entered the room so she wondered if he even knew she was there.

—Tim, you haven't eaten anything ... wanna go whit us at belly burger? Dick said is his treat! —Her tone was slow and gentle trying not to disturb him.

—I'm good, you go — He wasn't ... He was getting thinner, and to be honest he didn't even remember if he had eaten that day or the day before.

—Then ... you want us to bring you something? anything? —She insisted but only got silence as a response.

In other situations, Faith would have been a little bit more aggressive with his approach: nagging him a little, blocking his view of the computer by standing in front of it or even carrying him out of his room making him blush wildly; but this time was different. Faith could tell how much the words Bruce said before leaving meant to him. Normally Bruce would put Dick or Jason in charge of situations like this (because he knew how "diligent" Tim could be with himself), but ... this time he trusted Tim to handle it; I have tried harder than ever before, but by concentrating on one thing he had forgotten to see the big picture. He felt like a failure, unworthy and she knew it.

She knew him better than anyone, better than himself, she could practically feel his pain.

Faith always knew about Tim's self-esteem issues. He always tried to hide them, he didn't like to see himself as vulnerable, especially having the responsibility of a vigilante life, but she learned about them since the beginning of their relationship: He was so nervous to talk to her, make extra efforts on their dates and once she heard him confess to Jason: "How can someone so beautiful actually like me?" Jason had laughed and mocked him by saying "I was wondering the same" in his eyes it was only a joke but this small comment made Tim even more insecure about his blossoming relationship. Faith noticed ... He was a people pleaser, always complying with everyone else's request in fear of being left alone, with her it was no different, several times Tim agreed to Faith's wishes even if he wasn't all that ... excited about them: like that time they went cave-diving ... it was a mess ... So in their next date Faith asked "What do YOU ​​wanna do?" he said "Whatever you want is fine" but she wasn't having it, a relationship is mutual and she wanted him to know that "Nope, this time you pick!"

And it evolved from there: She being patient with him, letting him know that he did not have to comply with all his suggestions as if they were orders and that having limits is fine and him being gentle and understanding with her, letting her know that she could trust him with everything.

And now ... they felt just so far appart ... like he was no longer by her side.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily ... she was stubborn and he had told her millions of times that he adored that about her.

Tim flinched a little when he felt her arms gently circling his waist, his chin resting on her head before he gave a chaste kiss to her tousled curls and let out a small sigh.

—Timothy. Jackson. Drake ... I miss you — People tend to forget how much simple and straight forward words can make you feel, long and tiring speeches can bury the feelings we are so desperately trying to convey, so when Tim heard those words ... He understood, he understood how distant he has been from her, how much she had waited for him, patiently and understanding of his feelings.

—I-I-I'm sorry ... Faith-

He could only return the hug from his chair, allowing himself to cry, taking out all his frustration as she stroked his hair moving him closer to his chest so that he could listen to his heart and regulate his breathing to the rhythm of it, preventing Tim from starting to hyperventilate.

—I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, please forgive me, please ...— He wouldn't stop apologizing profusely, like he had committed the worst of crimes.

—It's okay, love ... I'm always here for you — She said, taking his face in her hands, wiping away his tears gently with her thumb like he had done with her a thousand times before.

—I will always be here for you ...

Me again! As an apology for taking so long and as a gift for the holidays here is this:

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 4

Warning, if it hasn't been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

Originally posted on my Ao3 Crystallclover. (Incase you missed it) Chapter Three 

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Chapter 4: When the Machine Starts

Summary: “ALL REMAINING SYSTEMS WILL REMEMBER THIS, AS THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW EMPIRE!!!” Cannon fire was heard in the distance.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Y/N? What do you think,” asked Carter.

You thought for a moment and answered, “I don’t know, this is all so much to take in. When are you guys thinking about registering? I don’t want to go alone, there will be too many people.”

“I was thinking about going tomorrow morning. The registration office closest to me doesn’t open until 9 AM but I want to guarantee that a line will start 6,” said Carter. 

“I guess I really hadn’t thought that far to be honest. Too caught up in the alien thing,” said Hayden “Why don’t we plan on going together?” 

“I think that would great, but Y/N do you need to go to a special registration center? As an American,” asked Carter.

“Let me check online,” you said while pulling up the government website on your phone. “It says it I should be fine if I go to the motor vehicle registration office, the social insurance number office, or the immigration office. I need my passport, social security card, immunization forms, birth certificate, driver's license, and work visa. It also says that I will be in a separate line and that my registration will take up to 1 hour to complete.” 

“Sweet, I know you aren’t a fan of getting up early Hayden but what if we all go to the MVR office tomorrow at like 5:45 AM and just get it done together? We have no idea how long the lines will be or really how long it will take,” asked Carter.

“Fine, but like we need to get brunch afterward or I will riot in the streets. You guys don’t have to work tomorrow right,” asked Hayden. “Tony gave me the next few days off.”

“No, Henry gave us all time off. I’m pretty sure Scott and his wife will go awol. Like you should have seen him this morning. He was on his phone in the walkway for the first hour, late to our meeting. Ally had to message him asking if he was coming. He then walked finally went into his office and got ready. He blamed it on his wife being paranoid,” you said. 

“Yeah but that is such a Scott thing to do, I am surprised Talia hasn’t evaluated him yet that man is a walking HR nightmare,” said Carter.

“That isn’t even the worst of it. Immediately after the announcement he kind flipped out. Talking about how the First Order will brainwash us and how we shouldn’t stand for it. Like I’m pretty sure he was going to blow a gasket. Daniel told him off and then he went to talk to Henry but not until saying that this may be the last time we will probably see our families, then Henry gave us the week off basically,” you ranted. “I honestly hate the man he’s late to everything, even deadlines, he also can’t organize his office even if his life depended on it. Plus he’s always on his phone with his wife. Just all around unprofessional.” 

“Damn go off, I would hate to hear what you would have go say about me if I worked with you,” stated Hayden.

“Well, I’m glad we are just friends and not coworkers. Brunch sounds like a good idea to me, especially if we can start day drinking because guaranteed my registration is going to be more stressful than both of yours and I’ll probably need something to take the edge off. And if Scott is right about this being the last bits of freedom before the First Order starts brainwashing us or ‘probing’ us then I’d like it to be fun,” you ranted. 

“Probing, damn I wish I thought of that earlier. You know we should start watching some really cheesy Sci-FI movies before the ‘Supreme Leader’ announcement,” suggested Hayden.

Both you and Carter agreed and you set up your phone to keep steaming CBC News and you set up “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” on your laptop.

After your third movie, you all just decide to pull up the news to avoid missing the announcement. The seemingly perfect white brunette anchorman and similarly perfect blonde anchorwoman were explaining once again where to register while also talking about the average wait time to register. You always found their perfect hair, teeth, and skin; they were just too perfect. 

Live from Washington D.C. 

The camera focused in on the Supreme Leader, “People of Earth, the First Order has so far been impressed by the cooperation we have received from you. As it was mentioned before, if you remain calm and follow all orders directed towards you, you will be able to live a long and prosperous life here. 

Your respective nation’s leader should have informed you of more updates such as where to receive registration and changes to your planet's economy. The First Order and my self Supreme Leader Ren have a few more directives for you. 

First as mentioned to you many times today, everyone on your planet must register with the First Order as citizens. Anyone refusing to do so will be dealt with justly. Second, all citizens upon registration will receive an education on the First Orders and the beliefs of the new empire. Any citizen who has an issue with this education should direct their comments and concerns to any Stormtrooper or First Order officer at their local registration station. 

Finally, anyone found in favor of the New Republic or the Resistance will be dealt with immediately. The First Order would like to make this transition for Earth as smooth and as peaceful as possible. Any found being a traitor to the First Order may find themselves at a public execution!

My Allegiant General Hux has a few words for you.” He stepped to the side to reveal the ginger human-looking man. 

“Today is the is the beginning of the new empire! And the end of a regime that acquiesces to disorder! At this very moment, in a system far from here, the New Republic lies to the galaxy, while secretly supporting the treachery of the loathsome Resistance,” The red hair man almost seemed to be foaming at the mouth while he was giving his speech. “Our alliance is a fierce machine that we will build, upon which we will stand, will bring an end to the Senate, and to their cherished fleet! ALL REMAINING SYSTEMS WILL REMEMBER THIS, AS THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW EMPIRE!!!” Cannon fire was heard in the distance and the camera came to a wide shot of the podium’s stage. 

On the stage, you could see the U.S. President, Supreme Leader Ren, Allegiant General Hux, and the silver armored soldier. Behind the stage, you could see the white house lawn filled with the white armored soldiers standing at attention. In the distance you could see there was now a banner over the white house, it was large and read with a hexagon with a star-like black symbol. You assumed this to be the flag of the First Order. 

The camera cuts back to the news anchors who were now conspicuously wearing pins with the same symbol that was on the banner. “I like the sound of that, don’t you Karen,” asked the male news anchor.

“I sure do Jim. A new galactic economy and protection from a powerful new ally to protect us from the treacherous Resistance. I don’t think we could have asked for a better ‘alien’ invasion, do you, Jim,” responded Karen.

“Now it's almost as if fate was on our side, or should I say the Force. For everybody, at home, both Karen and I have been registered and have started our First Order education. That’s where we got these cool new pins that you will be required to wear once you’ve been registered unless directed to do otherwise,” stated Jim. 

“Yes, it is important that all citizens register as soon as possible, and all citizens are asked to cooperate with the First Order. You all heard our new Supreme Leader Ren, they would like us to be peaceful and anyone found in contempt of the First Order may be subject to public execution,” stated Karen. “And I’m sure all of you remember 8th-grade world history when we learned about what happened to Marie Antoinette, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She and Jim chuckled at her off-color joke. 

“I’m sure no one wants that so if we all stay calm no one should lose their head. There will be nightly updates every night at 7 PM Eastern Standard Time from the First Order. We have been informed that it will be various officers as our new Supreme Leader is very busy,” stated Jim.

“I’m sure he is, and what a wonderful Supreme Leader we have. Dedicated to our safety and the safety of the galaxy. I can’t wait to learn more about him from my First Order education. Now stay tuned to the weather,” said Karen. 

You muted your laptop once again. You, Carter and Hayden all sat in shock after what you just watched. 

Carter was the first to speak, “well at least be getting the registration and education over an done with as soon as possible. That General Hux guy seemed pretty intense.”

“Your boss might be right Y/N we may just all be brainwashed soon. Why do I have a feeling like the First Order may be something out of a George Orwell's novel,” said Hayden.

“Just promise us you won’t do anything stupid Hayden, we will all have enough to worry about. Tomorrow at the registration office you might want to keep your conspiracy theories to yourself. I don’t know how much the First Order will like them,” you responded.

Carter seemed to be in agreement with you, “Why don’t we all just call it a night? We can meet in the parking lot of the MVR office at 5:45 AM and I’ll bring coffee for all of us.”

You and Hayden nodded in agreement. Both of them packed up their things and left. You cleaned up the kitchen and plates. Shut your laptop before preparing for bed.

You grabbed your pajamas and went into the bathroom and took a shower hoping it would relax you. Getting you changed into your clothes, brushed your hair and teeth. 

You shut off the lights to your apartment and walked over to your bed. You plugged in your phone and set an alarm before crawling into bed and drifting off into fitful sleep.

Soul Shards: what if...

...Tim gets a snarky sidekick who strong arms him into being a better person; it takes a little longer than if Damian did it, but Thea has her own way of doing things, and hers don’t involve trickery.

Or; The tale of soulless Tim and the little girl

(Alternative ending to the soul shards au, for those who don’t like the damitim... or the angst; that’s why Tim gets older here)

(Tim might be ooc, because he’s Soulless!Tim. Chaotic neutral at best. Be aware of that before reading)

Having no soul was great. Really, he should have gotten rid of that useless  thing years ago. Why did it take him so long? The freedom, both to go wherever he wanted and to operate as he wished without those pesky morals weightening him down. It was like being a swimmer for years wearing a lead vest, and then getting rid of it. The speed? The newfound flexibility? The ability to swim just a little lower than he ever dared and explore new depths of himself, sure in the knowledge that nothing could drag him completely under water, even if the price was that he wouldn't be going back to shore ever again?

It was a cheap price, for such a wonderful treasure. 

If only his body wasn’t so fucking annoying.

The little girl in front of him had been crying for like half an hour, no signs of stopping. And Fucking Batman had conditioned him to the point where he was physically unable to leave a distressed child behind.

-Please, sir, don’t leave me alone! 

Fucking hell- The police will be here soon, they’ll take care of everything.

The crying intensified.

Damn.

-What if I walk you all the way to the station? 

More crying.

-Your parents? You have those, right? I could take you home, just give me five minutes to figure out where do you live…

Shit, was that snot? His hand twitches and then thrusts forward, impulsively using the sleeve to clean her face. Disgusting.

-What do you want from me? -he ends up asking, close to feeling as distressed as she was out of sheer exasperation.

That seemed to put a halt to the water fest.

-I d-on’t have a family -her pouting mouth trembled, and instinct drove his arm around her shoulders, desperately trying to prevent her from crying again; he was aware his stupid, overly conditioned body wouldn't allow him to walk away from this child if she continued like this- Don’t want to go to orphanage or streets! -she wailed again at the end of the sentence, speech notably deteriorating in her anguish.

Was there a way to tell her ‘I don’t care’ without making her even sadder? Before someone came along and found him?

Tim could hear the police sirens coming closer, attracted to their location by the high wall of flames eating up at the warehouse. He had spent a good chunk of the night dismantling this human trafficking ring, deeply rooted in Greece but with smaller bases all over Europe, taking care to evac both the unconscious thugs and the victims before blowing it all to hell. It was hard as fuck, specially considering he couldn’t let anyone get a good look at his face, least they gave the authorities a good enough description of him to warrant the Bat’s attention.

This little girl was not only making him lose time, she was also threatening the secret of his existence both by keeping him on a spot where he could be easily seen, and by making him stay still long enough to see his face perfectly. Sure, such a small kid wouldn't be able to give a very good description, but any risk, small as it was, was more than he wanted to deal with. 

Fuck it all to hell. He was tired. Figuring it all in the morning made perfect sense.

-If I take you with me, will you stop crying?

A hiccup and a nod was all he needed to take the girl in his arms and disappear into the night.

----.----

-What about a church? Children think churches are safe places, right? -he asks her over breakfast a few hours later. He was also sure there were thousands of those in Italy, which was his next destination, so he could very well drop her there.

The little girl looked up at him from under her lashes, light green eyes squinting in distaste and a little sadness she was forcing herself to hide- I don’t like churches. Mama… -she swallowed hard, which Tim feared would bring tears later on- mama used to say people trust churches too much, without… uhm, ‘reasons’, she said. And that I shouldn't trust anyone I haven’t met.

Grateful she was doing an effort not to cry, he didn’t push. The last thing he needed was the eight year old remembering her late mother and crying again.

Mathea, eight years old. Kidnapped from the city of Seres in Greece, where her mother had moved them both a month ago with hopes for a better life after leaving her abusive marriage behind. No other relatives, and he couldn't drop the child with a violent father. No doubt some internalized trauma after seeing her mother being murdered trying to keep her from being kidnapped, and the subsequently time in capture, waiting with other children at the warehouse for their fates to arrive. Except it had been derailed by Tim’s intervention.

He never regretted his body’s dependence on doing good like now. He couldn't leave the girl just anywhere unless she agreed, which didn’t seem to be an option right now.

-What I do is dangerous -he told her, one last attempt at scaring her- I hurt people that hurt others. I travel a lot. You’d be better off at an orphanage or something, living with other children and going to class.

She looked at him with far too intelligent eyes- You could teach me. ‘seem more smart than any teacher.

-Smarter -he corrected, hating that he was proving her point- I’m not a good teacher. I don’t have patience for it.

-I don’t think there’s a’ything you’re bad at. And we can learn together.

-I don’t have a soul -he finally threw, almost desperate to scare he away.

She just shrugged- The men who took me an’ hurt mama had one, and they were monsters. I don’t care bout it.

He sighs. His body isn’t rebelling at the idea, and she seems determined. Whatever. He doesn’t care enough to look for the best option for her. She wants to follow him, okay, let her. She’ll give up and ask to leave soon enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

-I want a computer -demands Mathea one morning, months into her forceful addition to Tim’s party of one. They are currently in Milan, where he’s taking care of a wayward assassin and she’s using the hotel’s amazing wifi to complete her online class- for my birthday. It’s next week, you know. I’m turning nine.

-I’ll make sure to send you a postal -he replies, hand thrown over his eyes in a futile attempt to sleep. Her nagging grows less adorable and more annoying the older she gets- I’m going to be in Moscu next week. Human experiments I need to stop.

Little less than a year ago, she would have gasped, maybe even cried at the idea. Nowadays, child trafficking seemed the only thing to faze her.

-I’m going to cry.

-It won’t be effective so far away.

She harrumphs. Like a mule, which is how stubborn she could be.

-Yeah, whatever. If you miss my birthday, I’ll be very sad, and make you feel guilty as hell.

-I don’t feel anything.

-Maybe you don’t, but your body will give you hell for me. How does an entire night holding my hand and spoiling me sounds, huh? Cause we both know that’s what is going to happen if you do it.

-Why didn’t I just leave you in the warehouse -he whines, tired. A few hours of sleep, that’s all he’s asking.

A few moments of silence follow his statement, which is suspicious enough for him to remove his arm and open his eyes. She’s never that quiet, unless she’s planning something or…

Yeah, those are tears in her eyes. Fuck.

-You… do you mean it?

A sigh.

-Come here, brat. Of course I didn’t. We both know I can’t do something like that.

She goes willingly, slipping into the mattress by his side and resting her head on his shoulder, cuddling closer like she does when nightmares hound her.

-It’s...it’s going to be my first birthday without mom. I just… don’t want to be alone.

He tries to keep his mouth closed, fighting against the impulse to soothe her. He loses miserably.

-You can come to Russia with me. We can go sightseeing after I’m done with my business and eat out somewhere, as a birthday treat.

Something lightens in her face.

-And my computer?

A sigh- I guess it’d be good to throw the one you have out. To avoid being tracked down, of course. Not because you’re a spoiled brat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Thea arrived to the restaurant, her hair a golden mess and frazzled green eyes, Tim was instantly on high alert.

He had left her by the park with instructions on how to find him, as a lesson on both tracking and independence at navigating the streets. Now he wonders if leaving the ten year old alone in Buenos Aires had been a good idea.

-What happened?

She sat across from him, face instantly relaxing in the comfort and safety he always seemed to bring her.

-Nothing, just… a drunk idiot saying stuff. I lost him a couple streets ago, but…

His back tenses, and he has to consciously refrain from going out on a manhunt. Well, at least now he knows what is he gonna be doing that night when Thea sleeps.

-We are doubling your self defense lessons starting tomorrow. 

He might not want her around most of the time, but she was, and that made her his responsibility. 

She smiled, bright and relieved, and something twisted in his gut. He didn’t, couldn’t, love her. Not without a soul. 

But if he did? Gods, it was already bad enough, how much he liked her, how desperate he was to keep her safe. If he added love to the equation, he would be a total mess. 

Being soulless proved, once again, to be the best decision he ever made.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.

-What. The fuck. Do you need. At three in the fucking morning?

-You have to go out and buy me something.

-What the… -a groan as the man sat on the bed, arms behind him holding his tired body- why is the bathroom light on? 

Thea clutched the sheets of Tim’s bed tighter, the other hand still on his shoulder where she shook him into wakefulness, but didn’t sit by his side, which spoke for itself.

-Fuck. Don’t tell me…?

-Yeah. Apparently, my time has come. Can you…?

Another groan, this one whinier- I’m going, I’m going. Don’t sit anywhere, I do want my deposit back when we leave this hotel.

-Be fast, then.

Half an hour later, the un-masked vigilante returned, pharmacy bag in hand. Moodily throwing it in her general direction, he face planted his bed.

-There. Painkillers, pads, tampons and chocolate. I’m going back to sleep. And this time, don’t wake me up unless there’s a killer in the room.

-...you mean, besides Pru?

-Shh, you know you aren’t supposed to know about her shadowing us. It makes Ra’s ansty when he knows we know.

-...Aren’t you going to congratulate me or anything? I hear that’s what parents do to their twelve year olds when they go through this for the first time.

-First of all, I’m not your parent, and you are not my twelve year old. You are just a twelve year old that follows me around against my will. Second, I may be soulless, but not heartless enough to tell you to be happy about something that will bring you little else than pain every month for like fifty years. Periods sucks, and so do pregnancies. Why would I congratulate you? Put on a pad and go to bed now. We need to be out of town by eleven tomorrow.

-You are the human version of period cramps.

-Now you can knowledgeably use that phrase. Bet you’re delighted.

-Almost unbearably. Go back to sleep, idiot. I like you better when you’re unconscious.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Why can’t I go with you? -She asks, but it sounds more like a tantrum.

-Stop that, you are not nine anymore. And minors are not allowed in that bar.

-So I use my fake id, big deal.

-You are not going there. It’s illegal.

-Excuse me, is this coming from the man who I had to prevent from tattooing “fuck the law” on his right buttcheek that time he got wasted?

-You know damn well I might not follow certain laws, but others are fucking carved into me. Children drinking is one of those things my gut doesn’t want to take part on. You don’t like it, do as other teens and run away.

-Fuck you, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.

-Then be a good little girl and wait for me at the hotel.

-I’m fifteen!

-You still get tired after two hours of training, and cry whenever you watch Lilo and Stitch.

-Because you are a slave driver! I’ve gotten less hurt in fights against  people twice my size than training with you. And excuse me for having a soul, jackass.

-Apology accepted. Put on your pajamas again and go to bed. And by the time I’m back, I want that skirt reduced to ashes.

-What’s wrong with my skirt? 

-When you learn how to fight in it without flashing everyone and their mother, or alternatively can fight with it without getting distracted by embarrassment, you can use whatever you want. Until then, there’s your onesie.

-It’s called a kigurumi.

-A grown up onesie, whatever.

-The jerk store called, they’re running out of you.

-I would love to insult you back, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t do as well as nature did.

-I hate you so much.

-Uh huh. Right back at you.

-Ugh. Bring me pizza when you’re done with that gang?

A small smile. A hand messing blond curls up.

-Only if you behave while I’m gone, brat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

The base was big, and so luxurious. Everyone bowed to her or kept out of her way, which she liked even more. The food was amazing, the teachers provided to her the top of the top, and the library was to die for. 

She wasn’t happy Tim was hurt again, but there was no denying the benefits it brought.

-Dude, you have the best sugar daddy ever.

Besides her, getting his own massage, he opened his eyes to glare.

-Ra’s is not my sugar anything. We are merely business partners; as in, I stay out of his business, he provides me with hearty income. You know this already.

Thea shook her head.

-Tim, there’s business deals, and there’s winning and dinning. This man wants a piece of you so badly it's not even funny. Sugar- Daddy.

-How do you even know that term, you’re like twelve.

-Excuse you, I’m fifteen.

-Maybe physically, but you aren’t ever going past the ‘damn brat’ stage until you can go back to sleep after a nightmare without sneaking into my bed.

-Shut up, no one asked. Hey, your sugar daddy offered me a class in stealing, can I take it? He says he has an expert around to give me lessons.

-Go for it, but if it ends up with you trying to touch my stuff, I’m leaving you here.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Thea is sixteen, Tim turns twenty four, and she decides to give him the gift she has kept under lock and key ever since they met.

She knows about his past, because he never cared enough to hide it. She knows about his friends and family, because Conner keeps showing up, both to stalk Tim and to tell her the wildest stories of their youth. She knows about his soul, because that man, Damian, often takes it out when he visits them, face pained and desperate.

She feels guilty it took her this long. Because all this time, all this years, she had the key to bring their Tim back. She had the answers, the only one with a shot at it.

But she didn’t, because soulless Tim is the one she grew up with. The one who protected her, who carted to her needs and whims. The one who made her feel safe, even after all the cruelness she witnessed following him around.

She loves this Tim. Because this Tim, the one without a soul, loves her as well. It seems impossible, a paradox, but she knows it's true. Knows it with all her heart.

The love, the trust, the certainty of their bond, all are encompassed in the necklace she offers him on his twenty fourth birthday. The silver chain contrasting beautifully with the fluorite looking soul, shaped as a T. For Tim and Thea. 

He looks at her, and there’s resignation in his eyes. Not the hate she was expecting.

-If I take this… I’ll feel. I’ll want my soul back. We’d need to go to Gotham for it; no more world trotting, no more ‘us against the world’. Are you sure this is what you want, Thea?

She swallows, hard. She doesn’t want it to end, but the idea of standing between him and his best self is unbearable.

-As long as you take me with you, I don’t care who you are or how do you act. But you can’t leave me behind. I won’t allow it.

He smiles, warm even without his soul, even without hers, and she fears she’s going to lose it the moment his fingers touch the necklace. But she has to do this. He has rescued her, time and time again, since they met so many years ago. He has helped her build herself from the ground, protecting and guiding, and the least she can do in return is help him get himself back. 

Even saving him from a soulless existence doesn’t seem enough in comparison to all he’s done for her, reluctant or not, but that’s alright. She has the rest of her life to help her brother be happy.

But she needs to start now.

It must show in her eyes, because his smile becomes softer, an edge she hadn't noticed was there finally removed. The last line of defense gone down.

-You damn brat -he sighs, taking the necklace with shaking fingers, the emotions coursing through him instantly bringing tears to his eyes.

That’s alright too, she’s crying as well.

Because even before he touched the soul, even before he regained the ability to feel… the ‘Damn brat’ sounded heartbreakingly close to ‘I love you’.

There was an unbidden beauty, to being loved by someone without a soul. 

-I love you, too. You jackass.

Steven Universe: The Fantastic Mutants chapter 3: Enter the Brotherhood (originally posted on July 11, 2020)

AN: Sorry this took so long to come out readers. Coronavirus,  online school and all that jazz just had me occupied for a good while.  Hopefully you've been keeping yourselves entertained in the midst of  this quarantine; I've gotten into Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Scooby-Doo  Mystery Incorporated, Cardcaptor Sakura, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic  among others. Anyways, let's get back, at long last, to the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning of Gifted Youngsters (or just Xavier Institute or XIHLGY since that name might be a bit too long for some)  and see how the Crystal Gems and their new allies can get out of this one!

--

A few hours prior to their invasion of Professor Xavier's school, the Brotherhood of Mutants sat around a table examining the exploits of the  Crystal Gems to get a good idea of what they'll be getting into. "Don't  ya think we're in over our heads?" Juggernaut asked his fellow mutants  while watching video footage of Lapis stealing the ocean. "I mean, one of them can literally use 75% of the planet to kill us all!"

"The blue one may have the strongest power, but she is also rather emotionally fragile." Black Tom remarked. "In fact, all of them are pretty unstable once you think about it. Insecure, dependent, obsessed, haughty, cowardly, hotheaded..."

"Quit with the psychology stuff Tommy!" Pyro exclaimed out of boredom. "What I wanna know is how could they brainwash three world-destroying monarchs so easily? Could the same happen to us too?!"

"Well, the boss maybe." Sabretooth answered. "Speaking of which, where is he?"

However when Creed wasn't looking, the master of magnetism was standing behind him with Mystique at his side. "Lemme guess, he's standing right behind me."

"How could you guess? Do you have psychic abilities like  Xavier?" Mystique snarked as she sat down next to the clawed mutant. "I've been discussing plans with Erik for the past few minutes, plans on how to infiltrate these Gems. He chose the water-controller as the one I should masquerade as since it would require that I retain my usual skin color."

"He's got a good point, but why are we hunting these down in particular?" Avalanche wondered. "Is it because of how celebrated  they became for allying with the Avengers?"

"Not quite everyone." Magneto revealed. "Our current ally Doctor Doom wants the child's gemstone for the purpose of creating his own army of half-Gem warriors. And taking care of them will be so fulfilling for me after Rose had left me all those years ago."

--

In the present day, the Brotherhood had begun their assault on the Crystal Gems, with their archenemies the X-Men caught in the crossfire and the Fantastic Four as well. The mansion was left damaged in their arrival  and the Brotherhood now has the heroes surrounded.

"Now my friends, are we going to make peace by handing the child to me or must  we resort to drastic measures?" Magneto purred threateningly, holding out his hand and expecting someone to shake it.

"Like we'll ever let you have Steven!" Garnet stated. "Just a few weeks ago, he was nearly captured in a situation similar to this one, and we refuse to let it happen again."

"So when I want to do what's right, you try to fight back." Erik pointed out. "Yet when those three Diamonds plotted to destroy Earth, you let them off scot-free simply because they were mourning a bratty child that was no better than them? The hypocrisy is quite strong here!"

"Can we just cut the blabbing about our morality and fight already?!" Amethyst complained while wriggling free from Black Tom's vines and pouncing on Toad, tying his tongue around his eyes to blind him. "Why are you always targeting me?!"

With that, the battle properly began. The Crystal Gems charged at the Brotherhood of Mutants with the X-Men and Fantastic Four by their side, tearing up the mansion even more.

During the chaos, Morph snuck around the  battlefield in the guise of Garnet and tackled Sabretooth from behind, sitting on top of both his arms. "You little shit, get offa me!" Victor  exclaimed in agony while Morph then took the form of Groucho Marx. "I'd have you cry uncle, but you don't really have one as far as I know." He quipped while pretending to hold a big cigar.

Meanwhile Steven  & Connie had formed into Stevonnie to gain a better advantage over  Magneto, but he used psionic shields against their sword. "Gem fusion! I remember that quite well!" the master of magnetism recalled. "Garnet and Amethyst fused much like you to tear Auschwitz apart."

"Auschwitz?! You mean the Nazi concentration camp?" Stevonnie asked. "You must've been one of the Jews locked up there, right?"

"Indeed, me and my parents as well." Erik answered. "But alas, I wasn't one of the lucky ones."

--

It was October 7, 1944, towards the end of World War II when Erik's mutant powers awakened. When his mother was heartlessly shot dead by the  scientist Klaus Schmidt, Erik promptly went berserk with a loud cry of "NEIN!" followed by manipulating every metallic object in the room, even crushing a pair of army helmets and the heads of the Nazis wearing  them.

Klaus was excited at Erik's potential, but his joy turned to  fear when a loud crash was heard before a massive purple flail burst through the roof of his office. "Mein gott." The mutant ally of the  Third Reich muttered in awe of Sugilite. "Hey small fry!" the brutish fusion grinned while grabbing Schmidt by the collar with two large fingers. "Why don't you try picking on someone your own warped fascist  government?!"

"Please let me go!" Klaus begged for mercy. With a toothy smirk, Sugilite gave her word and dropped the man back through  the hole made in his roof, landing Klaus on his desk and making him too injured to get up. "Puny Nazi." Sugilite sneered before separating into Garnet and Amethyst.

"Bitte, hilf mir." The boy who would become Magneto croaked while crawling out from underneath the rubble, mildly injured but thankfully not comatose. "Bunte damen, hilf!"

Unfortunately, his voice was too hoarse for anyone around to hear. Not even the Nazis carrying away the bodies of his mother and Klaus were able to pay attention to the young mutant. "Is anyone else in here?" the voice of  Rose Quartz called out as she stepped into the ruined office. However, she was able to find a certain young man pinned under pieces of ceiling. "Are you okay young man?"

Still hoarse, Erik was unable to give  his name to the Gem. "Hallo, mein namen ist Rosenquartz." Rose introduced herself in some sloppy German. "Kannst du mich verstehen?"

"Rose!" the commanding tone of Captain America distracted her for a bit. "You have to come with me, they're bringing reinforcements from HYDRA!" he urged the Crystal Gem leader. With a small gasp, Rose turned back to Erik with some comforting words. "Don't worry little one." She assured him in English. "I'll be back for you soon."

But unfortunately for Erik, she never did.

--

"So you're hunting us down partially because Rose forgot about you?" Stevonnie asked. "Honestly, I'm not really surprised."

"I remember what happened that day!" Pearl exclaimed. "Rose couldn't come back for you because she was poofed during the battle and we had to retreat. I am truly sorry we were unable to make do on her promise."

"Sorry just won't cut it!" Magneto boomed, pinning Pearl to a wall with a steel beam using his powers."And no matter how much she tried to make  amends when we met again, I still never forgot."

--

Nearly twenty years later in 1963, the Crystal Gems were touring the city on a  sunny day when they found a large group of people gathered before a stage, where a man made a speech. "What are those guys doing?" Amethyst asked her fellow Crystal Gems. "I'm not sure, but I believe we should get a better look." Garnet answered.

As the Crystal Gems blended into the rather blasé crowd, the man continued speaking. "Despite the fact that you lauded such beings as the late Captain America, you also hypocritically look down upon mutants for possessing similar abilities."

"Uh actually sir," a young news reporter with a fake toothbrush mustache  spoke up. "There is a clear difference. Captain America was given his  powers by science to help win the war. Mutants on the other hand were  born with their powers that could go out of control if pushed too far."

"Did anyone ask for your opinion boy?" the man boomed as he glared at the  reporter. "Please don't take it out on me sir, I'm just a young reporter!" the newsboy nervously squeaked and then high-tailed it out of there. "But thanks for the story menace!"

"Hmph, children." The speaker rolled his eyes before returning to his speech, or he would've  had he not found a familiar face joining his audience. "Wait, I remember you!" he shouted. Using his magnetic abilities, he pushed the spectators away by forming a path straight to Rose using the steel fence that once separated them. "Rose Quartz. How have you been coping with the captain's demise?"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Rose asked the mutant. "Of course you'd forget about me." He replied. "I am known as  Magneto, the master of magnetism! But I'm sure you'd at least remember me calling myself Erik."

"Oh my goodness, Erik?!" Rose exclaimed. "I am so sorry I didn't come back to you like I promised! There was HYDRA coming for us at Auschwitz, I just didn't have time and-"

"I believe that's enough!" Magneto roared before he proceeded to use the  fences against Rose. "You have forgotten me at the camp, and now I shall  make sure everyone forgets you!" He tossed the fences at the Gem, but Garnet & Pearl quickly deflected them. "Stay away from her!" Pearl called. "Amethyst, get everyone out of here while we take this one on!"

Amethyst gave a comical salute before she rounded up all the human spectators with her whip and dragged them to safety. "I see how it is." Magneto  boomed. "You are just like all of them."

"No, you don't understand  Magneto!" Garnet stated. "We've actually met and fought alongside a few mutants before! There was this Canadian one during the war, and we even met En Sabah Nur as well! The Crystal Gems value all life on Earth, whether they be ordinary humans or otherwise!"

"You can try to rope yourself into my good graces all you want Gems!" Erik growled. "Because nothing can ever change the past!"

--

"That fateful battle was how we first met Xavier. He had an older team of  X-Men that saved us from him." Amethyst recalled. "Speaking of which, where could they be now?"

"Wrong time, wrong place!" Sunspot  exclaimed while he fired a blast of solar energy at Juggernaut, who was unfazed. "Could this get any worse today?!"

"As a matter of fact, it can." Mystique replied sharply, snapping her fingers to summon a pair  of massive blue and purple robots that towered over pretty much  everyone. "Pink gem detected, pink gem detected!" the machines noted in unison. "Bring boy to Doom immediately!"

"Sentinels?!" Jean exclaimed. "And it seems this time, they've been modified to hunt him down!" Emma replied as the Sentinels held out their hands to trap Steven in a forcefield. "Guys, a little help?" he called out from inside his prison. "I can't seem to get out!"

"STEVEN!" the Crystal Gems screamed while the Sentinels slowly took off into the sky with the boy in tow. "Don't worry Steven, I'll save you!" Kitty exclaimed. "Storm, give me a boost!"

"You got it!" Storm replied, grabbing the younger mutant by the waist and lifting her up high with her flight abilities. When she was let go, Kitty leaped at the Sentinels and used her phasing powers to pass through the forcefield to rescue Steven. "Don't worry little guy, I got you!"

"Thanks Kitty, but I think we might be too late." Steven thanked sorrowfully, making his new friend look up to discover that the Sentinels were headed for a large airship above them. "Aw crud." Kitty smacked her face in irritation. "Guess I walked into that one."

"Now they got Kitty too!" Scott shouted. "Yeah, I think we got the picture!" Lapis said. "Can't any of you fly up and save them?!" Morph suggested. "You seem to love ignoring obvious  solutions!"

Lapis rocketed into the air as she was joined by Angel, Storm, Firestar and Human Torch with intents to rescue Steven & Kitty, but unfortunately they were quickly shot down by the Sentinels, still slowly making their way inside the Brotherhood's vessel and leaving the other heroes behind.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you Crystal Gems." Magneto declared. "You may think just saying sorry will instantly make everything better, but time will never make people forget." He surrounded his Brotherhood in his forcefield and lifted them all up to his ship. When the villains got inside, the ship sped away from the destroyed mansion.

"I can't believe we lost him, just like that." Pearl muttered while on the verge of tears. However, Reed was there to put a comforting rubber hand on her shoulder. "Don't fret, I think I might know where they're heading." Mister Fantastic declared. "They're working with one of our greatest enemies  known as Doctor Doom, which means their next destination will be his kingdom of Latveria."

"Latveria? I've read about that place." Connie replied. "Very good that you know about this place Fraulein Connie." Colossus complimented her. "But still, the combined forces of Doom and Magneto might need more than just our three teams here."

"I think our first step would be calling the Avengers." Peridot suggested.  "But they agreed to let us solve our own problems unless it was absolutely necessary we needed their help." Garnet responded. "Maybe at least a few of their reserve members would be useful, but not the whole team."

"I do know someone who can help us, but I don't think a few  of us are going to like it." Colossus announced, much to Wolverine's irritation. "You don't mean?" Logan growled. "Da, exactly." Piotr replied with a nod and then he turned to Connie. "Connie, the X-Men now have a very special job for you."

"Whatever it is Mr. Colossus, the Crystal Temps will do what we can!" Connie said exuberantly as Peridot, Lapis, Bismuth and Nephrite assembled behind her with goofy grins on their faces.

"I admire your optimism malen'kiy. And  please, call me Piotr." Colossus continued. "I cannot believe I am  saying this, but we need you to find for us," he ordered her. "Deadpool!"

Wolverine giving a loud aggravated moan followed this up.

--

Well, this sure took a while, hasn't it?

Bitch, a while doesn't even cut it!

Wait, Deadpool?! How did you get here?

I came here to yell at you for prolonging my long-awaited proper debut  for months now! Well I've had it up to here with your lazy-as-shit behavior! Next chapter, you better let me help you out or I'm taking  that "ANDY ONLY" folder on your laptop for myself!

You monster, I worked hard to build up that collection! Okay fine, you can help in parts. Deal?

Deal! And what are you still doing here? Get the hell outta here until next chapter, The Deadpool and Peridot Show! Damn, that chapter title really rolls off the tongue.

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Word Count: 4,626

Prompt: Fake Dating

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but here we are, 4k words later... Please enjoy, and leave feedback!

25 Days of Tropes Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

________________

The prospect of having to go alone to Christmas breakfast at your aunt’s house was becoming more and more daunting as the day neared. This would be the tenth Christmas since going away to college that you’d come home alone, and your aunts and cousins wouldn’t let you live it down. Coming home for a few years without a man by your side wasn’t bad, but ten years? Unheard of in your family. All the other cousins were either engaged or married already. So when your phone lit up with your aunt’s name, breaking your concentration and distracting you from your work, you knew that you had to do something. Posting an ad online for a fake boyfriend wasn’t an option, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized you didn’t have any other option.

My life is turning into a frigging Hallmark movie, you thought, groaning quietly.

Sighing, you stood up from your desk and stretched before heading around the corner towards the bathroom.

“Y/N! Y/N, hey!”

You stopped, turning around and grinning when you saw Dean standing up in his own cubicle, grinning back at you.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re coming to Game Night tomorrow, right? I’m sick of losing, so we need to beat Charlie and Sam,” Dean said. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the fabric tight against his muscles as he crossed his arms and leaned against the dividers. You had to admit that his physique was distracting, but only a little bit. A little bit was all you allowed yourself.

You groaned. “I forgot Game Night was tomorrow! I have to get to the airport—I’m flying out to Ohio right after work.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve, Y/N! You’re telling me you’d rather go to Ohio than spend time with your friends?”

“I wish I could stay, but I—” You stopped as a plan started to form in the back of your mind. “Hey, you still owe me that favor. That big favor.”

Dean watched you warily, clearly confused about the sudden change in subject. “Yeah… I mean, I didn’t think it was that big of a favor to watch Sam after his surgery— Okay, fine, it was a big favor,” Dean relented, seeing the annoyed look on your face.

“I’m cashing in,” you told him. After a quick glance around the office to make sure there were no obvious eavesdroppers, you continued, “I’ll take care of everything, but I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for Christmas.”

“What? Y/N, stop mumbling.”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for Christmas,” you mumbled again, slightly louder this time.

“What are you saying?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for Christmas, okay?”

The words came out as a half-shout and one of your co-workers from down the row stood up, surprised at the outburst. You felt your cheeks go hot and you hid your face with one hand, avoiding eye contact with Dean.

Grabbing your elbow, Dean pulled you away from his cubicle and led you down the aisle to the empty copy room. You stepped away from him as soon as he dropped your arm.

“Y/N, what the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend? Like a chick flick or something?”

You wiped your palms on your slacks, nervous. “Yeah. My aunt has this big Christmas breakfast thing and I— I go alone every year. It’s hell with all my cousins either married or engaged now, and I don’t think I can stand another year of the questions and the teasing and the torture. I just need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for three days, and then you’re off the hook. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’ll pay for your airfare and a room of your own and all your food.” You stopped rambling and took a breath, watching Dean as he processed your request.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I owe you one, and after all the other things you’ve done for me that I’ve never paid you back for… This sounds like a fair deal.”

Relief flooded you and you felt the tension in your shoulders melt away. “Really?” you asked, and he nodded again. “Thank you, Dean. Really.”

He shrugged. “It’s no problem, Y/N. Just, uh, text me some of the details. You know, things I should know for the breakfast and stuff.”

You nodded, watching him as he rubbed the back of his neck, then turned and walked back to his cubicle. Closing your eyes, you leaned against the wall and tried to collect yourself.

I can’t believe I just did that.

______________

Dean walked with you to the parking garage the next afternoon. He was quiet as you pulled your suitcase from your car to his, handing it off to him before climbing into the passenger seat of his Impala. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you said as he got in on his own side. “You can change your mind.”

He shook his head, glancing over at you. “I gave you my word that I would, Y/N. Besides, I’m not about to turn down a free trip. Sam’s gonna be with Jess and Charlie’s gonna be with her girlfriend… This’ll be good. My only regret is agreeing to flying... I’m not really a big fan of planes.”

“Me neither,” you agreed. “But it’s faster than driving, and I try not to draw this kinda thing out.”

“I don’t blame you,” Dean said. He pulled his car out of its spot and headed out of the garage, and soon you were on your way to the airport.

The airport wasn’t far from your office building. Dean parked in the garage and helped you with your luggage like a perfect gentleman, and you smiled as you took it from him.

“You don’t have to act like my boyfriend now, Dean. We’re not there yet,” you told him. “You can tease me like you normally would and let me get my own stuff out of the back.”

He shrugged a little and closed the trunk with his free hand. “Consider it practice.”

Not wanting to argue, you followed him inside and through security. The lines were long, and by the time the two of you reached your gate, your flight was already boarding. Thankfully, there were two seats next to each other near the front of the plane. Dean sat down and immediately closed his eyes, clearly anxious.

“Hey,” you said as the flight attendants moved past you to check for seatbelts. Dean glanced over at you, his hands gripping the armrests. Hesitantly, you placed your hand over his. “We’re gonna be fine. It’s a short flight—only two hours.” When he didn’t respond, you continued, “I downloaded one of the newer Star Wars movies on my phone. Watch it with me?”

After a second, Dean let out a slow exhale and nodded tightly. He opened his eyes, giving you a tense smile when you held out an earbud for him. It was accepted without comment, but you felt Dean slowly start to relax beside you as the flight attendants went through their regular safety speeches. When the plane began take-off, he tensed again. You remained silent, letting him do what he needed to, until finally the aircraft leveled out and he focused on the movie once more. Turbulence was minimal the entire flight, and your movie was almost over as the plane landed in Cleveland. 

“You doing okay?” you asked as you and Dean headed through the terminal to the rental car office. 

“I’m fine, babe,” he answered, wrapping an arm around your waist. You tensed, stopping for a moment before forcing yourself to relax and walk with him.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” you laughed, and Dean laughed along with you.

Two hours later, you and Dean pulled up outside your hotel, both of you equally exhausted. The rooms were ready for you, thankfully, and as soon as you were unpacked enough to get ready in the morning without any issues, you knocked on the door separating your room from Dean’s.

“It’s unlocked,” Dean called to you. 

You pushed the door open, standing in the doorway as Dean continued to unpack his things. “So… What’s the plan? Did you read that text I sent you?”

Dean nodded, only glancing up at you for a second before gathering up some shirts and carrying them to the closet. He began to hang them up with his back to you as he replied, “Yeah. I got the whole run-down on the family, and I checked out your Facebook pics to put faces with names.”

“You have a Facebook?”

“I made one last night,” he said. Dean turned and looked at you. “I sent you a friend request, I think. I’m still figuring it out, Sam wasn’t around to help.”

Dean made a Facebook for this?

You stared at him for a second, dumbstruck. “Right. Um, well, we should figure out some sort of story.”

Shrugging, Dean stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the dresser with the TV. “Easy. We’ve been friends for a long enough time that we know a lot about each other already, so we can just say that we met at work. I thought you were cute and invited you to Game Night and the rest is history.”

“Well… I guess that’s not too far off from the truth,” you answered. “I made a list of things that you should probably know. You know, things that I don’t normally tell people I’m not super close with.”

You dug the list out of your pocket and held it out for him. Dean took it in silenced, unfolding the paper and looking it over for a minute before nodding and slipping it into his back pocket. 

“I’ll make a list or something, too. Can I just text it to you?”

You nodded, suddenly uncomfortable as you thought of the next thing on your mental to-do list. You knew that this would be weird, but you’d been hoping it wouldn’t be this weird.

“We should talk about some other things too, Dean. Like kissing and stuff.”

“And stuff?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

Your face felt warm. “Yeah, and stuff. What exactly are you comfortable with?” He shrugged again and you sighed. “Okay, how long have we been dating, according to your story?”

“About four months,” Dean replied after a moment. 

“Okay… So we’ve probably only kissed, then.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up again. “Whoa, wait. Four months is a long time, Y/N. You’re saying that we’ve only kissed? Isn’t that a little… I don’t know… middle school?”

“I dated my last boyfriend for over a year and we hadn’t done anything other than kissing a little… touching,” you told him.

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Talking about your last relationship with Dean was weird enough, but talking about how physical you’d gotten—and not gotten? Mortifying.

After a long moment, Dean finally nodded. “Alright. Just kissing, then.”

Dean’s phone chirped on the nightstand and you looked over at it. “Okay. I should probably head to bed, then,” you said, looking back at him. “We should probably leave around seven to get to my aunt’s house.”

“Okay. See you in the morning, sweetheart. Sleep tight.”

You gave Dean an awkward smile before backing into your room and shutting the door, locking it on your side. Your stomach gurgled and you sighed, knowing that you wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. Anxiety would most certainly keep you awake and as you went through your nightly routine, you tried not to think about what the next morning would hold for you. Nonetheless, the thoughts filled your head and you crawled into bed fully aware that you wouldn’t sleep a wink.

_______________

“Aunt Cindy, it’s so good to see you!”

Your aunt pulled you into a tight hug, leaving you breathless and already overwhelmed by the time she let go. Quickly, before she could grab you again, you stepped out of the way to reveal Dean standing in the doorway.

“Aunt Cindy,” you began with a smile, “This is Dean, my boyfriend. I hope you don’t mind that I brought him…”

She smiled wider, shaking her head and pulling Dean in for a hug. He grunted and you held back a laugh as you shucked off your shoes and coat.

“Not at all, dear! It’s so wonderful of you to finally have someone to bring along!”

“That’s one way of putting it,” you mumbled as she released Dean. Almost immediately, he stepped out of arm’s reach and began removing his coat and shoes as well.

“Thanks for having me,” Dean said, smiling politely. “I know it’s last minute, but when I found out that there’d be cinnamon rolls…” He trailed off and you knew by the way your aunt’s eyes lit up that she’d taken the bait.

“Oh yes, my cinnamon rolls!” she cried. “They’ve won awards all over the county. Come along, Dean, I’ll serve you one while you tell me all about yourself.”

Before he could get out any kind of response, Dean was being dragged to the kitchen, leaving you alone. You grinned at the pleading, helpless look he gave you on his way out.

“Guess it’s just you and me, Rocky,” you sighed, crouching down to pet the old basset hound who’d come to greet you. He was normally your only companion during Christmas and as much as you loved him, you were relieved that Dean would be accompanying you this time.

Rocky barked, accepting your gentle pets before heading off to find a new person to occupy him. You stood and followed Dean’s path into the kitchen, smiling tightly when your cousin Jane made eye contact with you from her spot by the sink. She set down her drink—a mimosa with more champagne than juice, probably—and made her way towards you, grabbing her fiance on the way.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” she cheered, and you let her pull you into a hug.

“So you good to see you, too,” you replied. “I didn’t think you’d be so excited to see me, considering I couldn’t come to your bridal shower…”

More like wouldn’t come, you thought.

Jane laughed, throwing her head back in a way that looked like it hurt. Her fiance smiled politely, his hand on the small of her back. “Don’t be silly, Y/N! Of course I want to see my littlest cousin! Besides, I need to hear about all the cute boys at your new office. Surely you’ve had the chance to go out with all of them by now?”

She raised an eyebrow at you and you felt sick to your stomach. Of course. What would Christmas be if Jane wasn’t torturing me about how she always got more dates than me?

“Actually—”

“Hi, you must be Jane.” Dean’s voice and his hand on the small of your back almost made you jump, but you were immediately filled with relief that he’d found you. He held out a hand, shaking with Jane and her fiance, and when you glanced back at him, he smiled charmingly. So charmingly, in fact, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Indeed I am. Who are you?” Jane replied, raising an appreciative eyebrow as she looked Dean over from head to toe.

You held back a disgusted scoff. Surely her fiance was seeing this. Does he know she’s been cheating on him from the start?

“I’m Dean, Y/N’s boyfriend. It’s nice to finally meet you, she talks so much about her family. I didn’t know you were engaged—when she showed me your Instagram, it looked like you weren’t even in a relationship.”

Jane’s face transformed into one of horrified shock as her fiance slid his arm around her waist, his eyes cloudy with anger.

“Would you excuse us?” he asked.

Dean nodded, trying to hide a smile as the two of you watched Jane and her fiance walk away, whispering fiercely as they headed to the empty side of the house.

“Dean, oh my God,” you laughed, looking up at him. “That was insane, how did you know that she was cheating on him? I’ve never been able to find her on Instagram, her account’s super secretive!”

Shrugging, Dean dropped his hand from your back. “I have my ways. Did you wanna eat? I can distract your family while you get some food.”

You shook your head, giving him a grateful smile. “I had something back at the hotel, but thanks. For all of this, really.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something, only to be cut off by your aunt yelling your name. You winced and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“You wanna get out of that?” he asked, his voice low. You nodded. “You trust me then, right?” 

You nodded again and Dean took your hand, leading you in the direction that Jane and her fiance had left. You followed him blindly, grinning a little when you saw the dumbfounded looks your other cousins were giving you as Dean led you out of the kitchen. They were blatantly ogling him, but you couldn’t blame them. The red shirt and dark jeans he was wearing made you want to ogle him too, and you definitely had that morning at the hotel. He’d been getting coffee while you waited for him at the tables in the lobby and man, what a view you’d had. Your face went red at the thought and you couldn’t wipe the giddy smile off your face as Dean slowed.

He led you into your uncle’s empty office, closing the doors behind you.

“What are we doing here?” you asked, looking around. It had been ages since you’d spent time with your uncle, but you had fond memories of reading and sketching by the big windows along one office wall.

“Nothing. Talking. Whatever you want to do,” Dean answered. He perched himself on the long edge of the desk, watching as you walked along the built-in shelves, trailing your fingers across the spines of the books.

“I haven’t been in here in forever,” you murmured. “I spent so much time here as a kid.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, glancing over at Dean before returning to the books. “Yeah. My uncle and I were close when I was little, but not so much anymore. I realized as I got older that I didn’t really agree with him on a lot of important things, and it kinda created a rift between us.”

“That must be hard.”

Shrugging, you stopped and looked over at Dean. Down the hall, you heard someone say your name, then knock on another door. Your eyes grew wide, but Dean only grinned and gestured for you to come closer.

“What are we gonna do? My aunt doesn’t like people snooping around—she’s always been possessive of her stuff,” you hissed.

Dean shook his head, spreading his legs slightly and gesturing for you to stand in between them. You did as he instructed, feeling heat spread to your cheeks as you realized just how close you were.

“Can I kiss you?” Dean whispered.

“Dean, now’s not the—” You stopped, realizing his intentions. Slowly, you nodded.

Smiling softly, Dean reached up and cupped your cheek with his hand, gently pulling you closer. “Relax,” he murmured, and then his lips were on yours.

It took you a second, but you found yourself relaxing and leaning into the kiss as if you’d kissed Dean a thousand times before. Your hands went immediately to his red overshirt, clutching the edges of the soft fabrice as his other hand wound around your waist and pulled you closer. You moaned against his lips, deepening the kiss and letting him slide his hand up into your hair as the office doors opened behind you.

“Y/N!” your aunt gasped.

You pulled away, your eyes searching Dean’s for a moment before you turned and looked over your shoulder at your aunt, who looked positively scandalized. Your brain was still processing the kiss—the very good kiss, it helpfully reminded you—but thankfully, Dean’s processing time was shorter than yours. He slid his hand into yours and stood, forcing you to step away from him.

“We’re so sorry,” he apologized, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “We got a little caught up. Y/N was telling me about how much she used to love this room as a kid, and then I wanted to see it, and we—” Dean gestured with his free hand and the shocked expression on your aunt’s face lessened slightly.

“Yes, she and Tom always did get along. I’m glad that you have such fond memories here,” your aunt replied, casting a glance your way. You smiled nervously and tried not to think about how sweaty your palm was against Dean’s, or how his lips had felt so good against yours.

“Well,” Aunt Cindy continued, clapping her hands together, “if you two are… done… We’re serving up more drinks in the dining room. There’s coffee, if you want it.”

“We love coffee,” Dean answered. He squeezed your hand as your aunt left, then looked back at you. “You okay?”

Swallowing hard, you nodded and tried not to look as dumbstruck as you felt. “Me? Oh yeah. I’m great. Never better.”

Dean chuckled and tugged on your hand till you walked with him. “I could get used to this,” he said.

“Used to what?” you asked.

“This. Us. You.” He lifted your joined hands for emphasis. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it before.”

“About what? Dating me?” 

“You say that like it’s surprising,” Dean replied. He stepped out of the way of some children running past, pulling you up against him so you were out of the way. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the way his arms wrapped around you so easily, like he’d been holding you for years now.

“It’s—” You stopped and shook your head, stepping away from Dean when the coast was clear.

“It’s what, Y/N?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just figured you’d go for someone more like the girls who work in PR,” you said after a second.

The corners of Dean’s lips turned down slightly. “Why wouldn’t I go for you? You’re the most beautiful girl on the whole floor, and I knew from the second you helped me beat Sam you first game night that I wanted you.”

“Really?” you laughed. “Dean, that was like, two years ago.”

“I know. We were playing Clue and you were one of the most competitive people I’d ever met. You still are.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “I can’t believe you still remember that. Besides, I’m pretty sure we only won because you told Sam and Charlie to go easy on “the cute girl from work”... Yeah, don’t think I didn’t hear that little conversation when I got up to go to the bathroom”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning red when he realized you’d caught him. “That’s what you remember?” he asked.

Still smiling, you took his hand and laced your fingers together, leading him the rest of the way to the dining room. Your aunt had set out mugs and glasses across the table and you laughed a little when Dean made a beeline for the coffee.

“He’s a nice guy.” You jumped in surprise, turning around to find Aunt Cindy standing close by. “He hasn’t tried to hit on any of your cousins yet.”

“Yet?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“It was a compliment, Y/N, don’t be so—”

“It wasn’t a compliment and we both know it,” you huffed, not wanting to hear whatever else she had to say. “Thanks for inviting me, Aunt Cindy, but I think Dean and I are gonna head out.”

“So soon?” she asked.

You gave her a tight smile. “We have other plans today. Dean!” You turned on your heel, heading towards your “boyfriend”.

“Everything okay?” he asked, seeing the frustration on your face when you got closer. He was holding your uncle’s old coffee mug and you took it from him, setting it on the table.

“We’re leaving. We have to get to your brother’s party, remember?”

Dean nodded, immediately recognizing the phrase from your conversation earlier. He’d agreed to leave, no questions asked, should you mention going to Sam’s party, and in this moment, you were more than thankful. No one had to know that Sam was currently a two hour flight away.

“Right, I forgot,” he said. Dean smiled politely at the man he’d been starting to talk with, then let you lead him out of the dining room and to the door.

Your aunt was waiting with your coats. “I’m so sorry you have to leave so early!” she cried. You could tell she was putting on the works for Dean’s sake, and you realized after glancing at him that he could tell too.

“I don’t think my mom would be too happy if she didn’t get to meet Y/N before lunch,” Dean said good-naturedly. “Thanks for having us.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. And if you wanna come over without Y/N, we’d love to have just you. It would be nice to get to know you more…” You held back a gag when she laid her hand on Dean’s arm.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Dean replied, and your heart stopped in your chest. Your aunt was staring at him, clearly about to comment on his rude answer, but he continued, “You treat Y/N like she’s dirt, but she’s worthy of more than I can give her. I’m lucky to have her, and you’re lucky that there’s some so amazing in your life. Y/N works hard at her job, loves her friends more than anything, and values family so much that she comes to your breakfast every year, regardless of how much you torture her or put her down.”

Your aunt stared at Dean, speechless, as did you. After a second, he slipped on his coat and took your hand. “You ready?” he asked.

Nodding dumbly, you let Dean pull you behind him until the two of you were back in the rental car.

“Dean—”

“Before you say I shouldn’t have done that, let me say something—”

“That’s not what I was gonna say,” you interrupted, smiling a little. “I was just gonna say thank you.”

Dean nodded, his hands on the steering wheel. “You deserve it. Someone’s gotta tell them how great you are, since they clearly don’t see what I see.”

You ducked your head, your cheeks warm. “Dean… After this…”

“If you just wanna go back to being friends, we can make it work, Y/N. Game Night’s always been open to you and it always will be,” Dean said.

“And what if I don’t wanna go back to being friends?” you asked, risking a glance at him. He was smiling, and the butterflies in your stomach fluttered at his boyish grin.

“Well, then I guess we’ll have some ‘splainin to do.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him as he started the car and pulled out of the driveway. “Dean Winchester, did you just quote I Love Lucy?”

“Maybe, but if you try and tell anybody, I’ll deny it.”

Grinning, you sat back in the seat and watched as Dean drove back to the hotel. When you passed a movie theater, you sat up and pointed out the window.

“Wait, Dean! Let’s go see a movie!” you cried.

“On Christmas?” he asked, glancing over at you before merging into the turn lane.

“It’ll be emptier than normal, and we can see that new movie you’ve been wanting to see…”

Dean’s grin matched yours as he pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. “Deal. I’ll get the tickets, you get the snacks?”

“Deal.”

_______________

Want to be tagged? Send me an ask! Tag lists include:

Forever, Sam, Dean, Cas, Deaf!Reader, Words Series (Multiple Pairings/Characters), Home Series (Reader x Marine!Sam) - Unposted, From The Dead Series (Reader x Soldier!Dean), The Switch Series (Reader x Sam), Consort Series (Goddess!Reader x Dean), Sam x Meg 2.0, Blog/Series Updates, and Drabble Days/Writing Events

Want to commission a story of your own? Check out the details here.

@lipstickandwhiskey @riversong-sam @shaelyn102 @gabrielslittleangel @supermoonpanda @feelmyroarrrr @crispychrissy @shamelesslydean @supernatur-gal @gloriousartisanfancreator @smallriderbigdreams @sandlee44 @megasimpleplan4ever @ellie-andthemachine @dustycelt @rainflowermoon @katymacsupernatural @ultimatecin73 @musiclovinchic93 @mannls @thegrungequeer @fiftyshadesoffandoms6783 @choosemyname @mishascupcake @emmaa_maariee @mlovesstories @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @gypsytraveler86 @lucifersbird @sev3nruby @flirtswithdanger @whimsicalrobots @kazkingdom @a-screaming-ghost @5seconds-of-fandoms @supernatural-harrypotter7 @teaand-cookies @supernatural-crazed-girl @alexwinchester23 @supernatural3002 @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @lizzielu252 @babypink224221 @just-another-busyfangirl@torn-and-frayed @deansgirl215 @assassinofmasyaf @jayankles @reginaphalange2403 @adoptdontshoppets @thorins-queen-of-erebor @amionthetumbler @animiliabby @alliegc28 @krys198478 @xxredbloodmurderxx @supernaturalharry @flamencodiva @witch-of-letters @karikatz12481 @clarakainda @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @akshi8278

Alien Encounter (Pt. 1)

So I thought I wasn’t going to upload anything this week, but I got struck with a strong idea for a multi-part story and I couldn’t help but write it! Hope you enjoy.

I stumbled off my ship. The ground was murky and soft, like heavily saturated mud. My feet slipped in the muck and the effort it took to get them unstuck jostled the broken wrist I’d secured into a sling. Simply walking was a slow, painful effort.

It did not help that I wasn’t sure where the hell I was going. The star map I’d been using suggested that the planet was uncivilized, at least as far as the Human Alliance was concerned. There was nowhere to go to make a distress call, no place to get parts from to repair the damaged ship, not even somewhere I could wait for my employers to track my distress beacon all the way to my ship.

In short, wandering away from the ship was probably a bad idea. But staying in the ship was a worse idea, because the damn thing was sinking. The murk was able to support my weight, as long as I kept moving, but inch by inch, the ship was going down. Luckily my distress signal would still reach my employers (the signal could travel through miles upon of space; a few feet of mud was no problem) but it did mean that I couldn’t stay in that relative safety. I’d gathered up everything I’d thought would be useful into a backpack, slung it over my shoulder, and set off to find somewhere to kill time until my employers found me.

I set out close to sunrise. By midday, I was starting to realize exactly how fucked I was.

I’d taken enough water and food for at least four days, but I hadn’t accounted for the fact that I would be moving around in high humidity. I’d plowed through most of my water allowances for the day and I felt sick with thirst. Oh god, I felt sick. Sweat plastered my clothes to my body and my hair to my brow. It was hard to breathe, even with the mask. Even taking a break was impossible. If I stayed standing in one place for too long, my feet started to sink into the muck and it took far too much effort to extricate myself.

I staggered along, trying to find somewhere to catch my breath. My legs burned from the effort of walking. My chest ached. Only the fear that if I stayed still for too long, I would sink kept me moving.

The longer I walked, the more oppressive the panic in my chest grew. Progress was minimal. It took so much effort just to move forward. I could feel my muscles cramping and failing. The mud clung to my ankles and calves and I realized I could no longer move my legs.

Shit. Shit! I couldn’t move my legs! I pulled against the clinging muck and it held tighter. There was nothing close enough to grab onto to pull myself out. Every effort to lift my legs only pulled me down further. The mud sucked up to my knees. I pressed my palms down against the mud’s surface, but they just sank uselessly down. Panic clawed wildly up my chest and throat, choking me. I couldn’t move!

Something to my right gave a strange mewing noise. I whipped my head around. Standing next to a tree, no more than a few yards away, stood an alien.

It was tall and blue-skinned. There was a slight gloss to its skin and a darker blue color mottled the backs of its limbs. Its face was somewhat human and also somewhat feline, with bright yellow eyes. Pointed, fin-like ears twitched constantly on either side of its head, scanning for sudden sounds. There were fins running along the top of its head, a little like three small mohawks. A massive, powerful looking tail swung behind it, tipped with a strangely colored and frilly fin. Its legs resembled the hind legs of a dog or a cat, with elongated, paw-like feet.

It was wearing clothes, I was pretty sure, which was a good sign. Not every intelligent species wore clothes, but no unintelligent species did. As I watched it, the creature stepped cautiously closer. It seemed to be able to almost hover on top of the mud and, as it stepped closer, I saw why. Pale yellow fins spread out on either side of its feet, creating a sort of snowshoe effect that allowed it to distribute its weight evenly over the mud.

It took a few more bipedal steps toward me, then sank down onto all fours as it drew closer. The approach was cautious, but when I made no move to attack, it seemed to grow more confident. Within a few moments, it was next to me.

I waited while it circled me. “You can’t understand me, can you?” I asked. It stilled, peering at me with wide eyes. “Is that a no?”

It stared for a few more seconds, then grabbed me by my armpits and pulled. With a wet slurping noise, I popped out of the muck.

The alien pulled me out onto the surface of the mud. I scrambled, trying to stand back up, but my limbs immediately started sinking back into the ground. The alien grabbed the back of my shirt and held me still until my struggling stopped. Then it released me and waited.

This time, I spread my limbs out over the surface of the mud and didn’t move. The alien made a noise that I assumed was approving. It circled me around again, then settled back down. With a quick, fluid motion, it slipped under me, pulling me up onto its back. It positioned my arms around its neck, securing me on its back, then it took off, running on all fours.

The alien moved quickly over the ground, springing over the mud far more quickly than I could. After only a few minutes of running, the alien paused by the base of a tree. After a moment of rearing onto its hind legs, it leapt up, scrambling into the tree branches.

There was a small house nestled in the tree branches and the alien crawled inside. As soon as we were inside, the alien slid me off its back.

The floor was woven out of thin reeds, like the walls. The entire shelter was small, barely bigger than my ship. Small pieces of wooden furniture were pressed up against the sides of the room, things like cabinets and even a table. I sat up and looked at the alien. It was sitting most of the way across the room from me, staring.

“Hi,” I said. “You really can’t understand me, huh? Not even a little?”

The alien stared at me for a long moment, then it made a series of gentle, mewling, chittering noises. After a few seconds of silence, it repeated the noises.

“So, you can speak, at least,” I said. The alien frowned at me, then chittered and mewled again.

The back of my neck, right at the base of my skull, gave a sharp, electric buzz. I slapped my hand to the sensation. The alien started, stepping back. The buzzing sharpened in the back of my head, then resolved into a sharp, whining voice. “Translation function at 59 percent.”

I let out an excited giggle. The alien peered at me, obviously unsettled. “No, no, it’s okay! I just need you to talk. Talk!” I made a motion around my mouth. “Talk to me!”

The alien blinked at me. Its ears flattened. Hesitantly, it chittered and mewled some more. “Yes!” I enthused, trying to encourage more speech. “Keep going.” It cocked its head to one side, but kept speaking, more slowly this time.

 “Translation function at 90 percent. 91. 92.” The number ticked up as the alien kept talking. “98. 99. Translation complete. Commence.”

The buzzing sharpened to a whine so high pitched it made my head ache. I choked out a cry and the alien positively bristled. It reared back, hissing anxiously. It chittered out a few more words before they morphed into something understandable. “-don’t know how to help you!”

The pain faded, leaving me with only a faint ringing in my head. “Sorry, could you slow down a little? I just have a little bit of a headache.”

The alien froze. Its eyes, already pretty wide, practically bulged from its head. Its mouth opened, closed, opened again. “I… You can speak!”

“The two-way translator just came online. Now I can understand you and you can understand me.” The alien gaped at me. I was fairly certain he was a male, given the deeper tone of his voice and the large, somewhat frilly tail fin. “Sorry about literally crashing in on you like this, but thanks for the rescue.”

He stared at me, slowly closing his mouth. His eyes narrowed and his tail swished slowly over the floor. “What are you?”

“I’m a human. We’re the dominant species on ten planets and three additional star systems and members of the Interstellar Unity Alliance.” The alien blinked at me. “Guess that doesn’t mean anything to you, huh?”

He shook his head. I could see his nose twitching slightly as he sniffed. “Why are you here?”

“Oof.” I slumped back against the wall. “That was a mistake. I’m a courier for the elite, the people who can pay for both discretion and speedy deliveries. But, uh, sometimes that means taking shortcuts and sometimes that means cutting corners on some ship maintenance. I maybe should have let the shipyard take a look before I took off again. One of the engines malfunctioned when I was passing through. I crashed.”

The alien leaned forward, glancing around testily. “Where is your ship?”

“At this point? Probably all the way under the mud. Damn thing started sinking as soon as I landed.” I sighed. “Usually we’re supposed to stay with the ship until rescue arrives, but staying in there would have meant a slow death, so I had to find somewhere else to stay.”

The alien’s ears pricked as he stared at me. “If you’re not with the ship, will your rescue party be able to find you?”

“Sure. Once they get to the right planet, they can use the translator chip in my head to find me. I’ll be fine. It just might take a while.” I took a deep breath and stood up. “Look, I’m sorry for barging in on you like this. If you give me a secluded place where I can wait out the rescue, I can just go there and I’ll be out of your hai- well, out of your way.”

The alien stared at me, tail tucking close to his body. “You can’t breathe underwater, can you?”

“Nah, humans are a land-only species.” The alien clicked his clawed fingertips on the ground, ears twitching.

“I don’t know anywhere you could stay, unless you can sleep in a tree.” He considered for a few moments. “I suppose you could stay here.”

“Here in your house with you?” I said. The alien nodded. “Really? You’d just let some random alien stay with you? I could be here to, I don’t know, probe your brains or something.”

The alien snorted. “I’m afraid I’m not terribly threatened by someone who’s more easily defeated by the landscape than a toddler.” He tilted his head, peering at the arm I had carefully folded over my chest. “I’m also not threatened by someone with a broken wrist.”

“Oh.” I’d almost forgotten about it in all the chaos, but not that I was reminded of it, my wrist started to ache again. “How’d you know it was broken?”

“I’ve broken mine before.” He crossed the floor to sit next to me. “I have a medical kit. I can probably bind it, maybe give you some painkillers?”

“No drugs, but if you could splint my wrist, that’d be great.” He nodded and rose, crossing the small room quickly. After rummaging in a cabinet for a few minutes, he returned, holding a box with a black X running across the front.

“Give me your arm.” I held out my hand and his fingertips probed along my wrist. It took a considerable amount of effort to stay perfectly still when he touched the location of the fracture. “Sorry,” he said, glancing up from my wrist with an apologetic expression. “This is going to hurt.”

I gritted my teeth. “Just get it over with.”

He took hold of a spool of bandages and unraveled them, then turned my arm so the underside was facing up. “I have to bind it tightly so it doesn’t move,” he said. “You’re going to have to stay still.”

“I know. Please just get it over with!”

He took a deep breath and started binding my wrist. The pain made my eyes water and my stomach turn. “Agh, shit, shit, shit!” I spat under my breath.

The alien tied off the bandages and the pain diminished from ‘excruciating’ to ‘awful.’ I gulped air, fumbling for the bag of pain pills in my bag. When I’d managed to take them with a hasty gulp of water, I sagged back onto the floor, staring up into the concerned face of the alien.

“Lucky our hands are similar,” I said. “How’d you learn to splint a wrist like that?”

“I broke my own wrist during guard training, so I needed to set it.”

“Guard training?”

He nodded. “I’m an outpost guard for Solemnia. It’s usually peaceful enough, excepting the occasional spaceships.”

“Aren’t guards supposed to report unusual incidents like me?” I asked.

“We’re supposed to report threats. You haven’t seemed like a threat so far.” He curled his tail close to his body. “And I’m not sure what exactly my superiors would do to something like you.”

I snorted out a laugh. It was shakier than I would have liked. “You think they’d dissect me or something?”

There was a long pause. The alien stared at the ground. I swallowed my laughter. “So, uh. That’s a yes, then? On the dissection?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t know what they would do to you. I trust my superiors in most matters, but I do not trust that the bureaucracy of my planet would let you live. At least, they wouldn’t let you go free.” He frowned. “Unless your people came for you, I suppose.”

“They wouldn’t,” I said. “They’re not going to risk an interplanetary confrontation just to get a courier back. I’d be considered lost.”

The alien nodded like I’d confirmed something for him. “You can stay here until your people come for you. How long do you think it will be?”

“A few days, maybe. Not too long. My ship should have pinged them as soon as it went down. They’ll take a few days to confirm the signal, get a rescue ship online, and actually get out here.”

The alien nodded. “Then that should be okay.”

I took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

He nodded again and gave a short, breathless little giggle. The expression on his face was slightly hysterical, but also strangely adorable. His eyes were wide, bright yellow all the way around and his mouth kept twitching into a small, constrained smile. “This is a bit exciting, isn’t it? I’m harboring an alien!”

His humor was strangely infectious, and I felt a giggle slip form my lips too. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He giggled a little more and slumped down to the floor, covering his mouth slightly with his hand.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s your name?”

He moved his hand away from his mouth. “Valain. What’s your name?”

“Anya. It’s nice to meet you.” He grinned back at me.

“Nice to meet you too.”

Day 56

Sat 29th Feb

🧅🧅🧅 Leap Year & Day before the Run 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️

The room was very, VERY hot. We were sleeping on single beds in different corners of the room and the ceiling rotating fan was only reaching the edges of our beds. I got up early to escape & headed to the roof terrace - and immediately spotted the main attraction! The clouds had cleared for a moment and there was a beautiful view of Kilimanjaro peak. So cool!

I ran down to tell Phil to get up immediately and come see it. He grunted and reluctantly agreed to, so I ran back up where I’d left my stuff...and saw that the cloud had covered it up again. Uh oh...

LUCKILY when Phil appeared 5 minutes later, it popped its lovely head out of the clouds again and Phil was suitably impressed. We sat on the rooftop and ordered breakfast enjoying the view as the sun rose, but there was a problem developing. The heat was increasing very fast and the rooftop was getting really hot. There was a large roof cover so we weren’t getting direct heat, but it felt like the roof was absorbing all the sun and heating up the area into some sort of giant oven. Phil began to sweat profusely and ended up having to leave to shower and cool down before he lost his cool completely. He came back 20 minutes later feeling much better, much cooler, but after 15 minutes he was sweating again.

I was ok though and felt quite happy chilling on the rooftop, so Phil said he’d go for a walk. He wanted to do something, so went to get some bottles of water (literally water and not beer this time wtf right) then came back.

Wasn’t enough to satisfy him though, and he decided to go to an ATM to get our cash sorted. Fine by me! We agreed that we’d go together for the run registration half hour later, once he’d returned, as I wanted to go together plus was going to potentially sign up for the 5km fun run. 
Well, half an hour came and went, and I began to wonder where he’d got to. I hoped he wasn’t stressed looking for a cash point.

Then, an hour later, a very sweaty flappy Phil burst into the room.

‘Am I in deep shit? Are you fuming?!? Oh my god, that was SO annoying!’

I felt sorry for him straight away, but then noticed - he had his race number in his hand.

‘Phil...have you been to register for the race? Why did you go and register without me??’

Phil huffed and puffed a bit before launching into it.

‘Jess, just listen, that was SO annoying cos I walked to find a cash point and then realised I was really close to registration, like 0.8km...’

At which point I interrupted to let him know that 0.8km is not ‘really close’.

‘Jess, shut up, you don’t understand, I tried to go there and there was loads of traffic...’

‘Traffic? So you had to get a tuc tuc there? Makes sense I suppose, considering it wasn’t very close’

‘Jess shut UP it was really stressful, I tried to get online to let you know where I was cos I thought you’d be fuming I’d taken so long, and I couldn’t get online and so rushed back here, and I didn’t even pick up my tshirt’.

I was baffled as to his decision making.

‘Phil. Firstly, WHY did you go to register after we agreed to go together and I specifically said I wanted to go with you to register?? Secondly, why are you talking to me like I’VE done something wrong??’

But by this point, he’d got himself in such a state that we were not able to have a sensible conversation about it. Phil’s way of dealing with how annoyed he was with himself for making shite decisions was to shout at me, a lot (at one point he actually said ‘All you want to do is your blog’ which was a low blow I thought).

So I retreated to the safety of the rooftop where I could hurl abuse of my own at him from a safe distance via WhatsApp. Ahh, you gotta love a whatsapp argument. Phil is typing... oh IS he now.

Well it worked a treat and Phil went all Gary Barlow on me, messaging me along the lines of Whatever I said, whatever I did, I didn’t mean it. After admitting he’d been a grade A twat, he skulked up to the rooftop to apologise and started to laugh (the audacity of it), and we agreed to try again and head to the registration TOGETHER. I showed him the definition of the word on dictionary.com to avoid any further confusion.

We walked the (long and not close by) distance to the Keys hotel and oh thank goodness, there were still places available, so I signed up for the 5km ‘fun’ run. I had prepared my happy speech in advance ‘Oh yay, there are spots left, fantastic news, I’m so relieved, I thought they might all be gone by now and that would have been terrible’.

Fun run eh? We’ll see. Other suitable names for it could be the ‘5km Why Try’ or the ‘5km Pain Train’. Look, I KNOW its only 5km but I hadn’t run for ages so felt a little unsure as to how it was going to go.

Phil walked me over to a counter where he had seen a running hat for sale on his first trip there and he wanted to try it on. I managed to convince him that this red monstrosity of a hat looked super duper cool, was not a crime against fashion on every level and was the PERFECT match to accompany his wonderful & sexy running waistcoat. I wasn’t the only one thinking it, the guy selling them couldn’t get rid them quick enough and practically gave it to Phil, offering a 5000Tsh discount for no apparent reason. I know the reason. We all know the reason.*

While Phil was chatting to this guy about running and other boring things to do with running, we were approached by a guy with a camera woman asking if he could do an interview with Phil. I think it was the hat that did it. They obviously thought Wow look at those gullible fools, they’ll do anything. And they were right of course. I lolled while Phil answered a few questions and told them something about London being cold. Then the tables turned and they asked me to answer some question too. I was like No no no, I’m only doing the 5km, I’m not a runner runner like.

But they didn’t seem bothered, asking me too to say my name, how far I was running and how I’d prepared. ‘Well I haven’t prepared’ I said ‘But I’m only doing the 5km so I think I’ll survive!’.

I then could not for the life of me get ‘I Will Survive’ by Gloria Estefan out of my head.

Enos the interviewer took our number and said he’d send us a link when it went live. Sure mate, course you will - I fully expected to never hear from him again.

We left to go find some lunch and asked our tuc tuc driver to take us to the Kilimanjaro Coffee Lounge. But he was utterly clueless and we pulled up outside a completely different cafe called Union Cafe. Handily though, it was really close to our hotel so we thought Screw it, Union cafe it is then. It was pretty good, had a nice bagel with cheese, tomato and avocado plus a Mediterranean platter - houmous, pitta and two minuscule bowls of other dips.

My ice coffee shake was like pure syrup though and despite the first sip tasting delicious, by the end of it, it was positively nauseating. It was all a bit expensive too.

Back to the hotel where we watched the Crown with a Safari beer (so many great beer names here) and tried to take it easy ahead of tomorrow’s race. Loads of last minute sponsors came flying it which was really nice and gave us a much appreciated boost of support. They’d probably heard the news about my 5km run and thought I was a legend.

Out of pure laziness, we wandered round the corner back to Union Cafe to grab a takeaway pizza but decided to sit there instead when we saw there were tables available. As we sat there, Phil suddenly looked behind me and said ‘Jess...is that...is that a cricket on that mans shoulder??’.

Sure enough a huge locust was just sat on this guys shoulder, like it was his pet, joining him for dinner. I was fairly certain it was not his pet and it looked hilarious sat there like his pal. I got the mans attention and said ‘Excuse me, you have a cricket on your shoulder’. He stared at me with confusion and when he eventually realised what I was saying, he started to do a shimmy shake with his shoulders leaning over his table in a panic to try and get his mate to flick the cricket off him 😂😂😂. His mate finally got it and the man tried to look all calm as he casually turned to us and said ‘Thank you’ through a forced smile.

We enjoyed this incident very much.

The chips and Greek salad were ok but the pizza was rubbisssshhhh. The pizza looked like it had been sat for ages, like it had been cooked twice. Being the feminist that I am (aren’t we all?) I used a ring of onion to mock propose to Phil (ITS A LEAP YEAR Y’ALL) and he said yes! But please, don’t get excited guys, it was a piece of onion yeah 🧅. We took the carbs and headed back our crazy hotttt room. We got all our running gear ready, though I had my doubts about wearing running leggings in the heat, then did a bit of bed shifting to catch the fan breeze a bit more. We’d learnt from the night before and both put ear plugs in to drown out the crazy loud road noises before attempting sleep.

*Look Phil, I was kidding about the hat. I thought it would be funny to diss it on the blog and I actually think its a wonderful and very fantastic practical addition to your running kit. Please wear it with pride and enjoy the shade it gives you. I certainly will.

The Sergeant’s Soulmate Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky X Y/N

Warnings: Mostly fluff but smut happens :/ 

Summary: Y/N, a research scientist, finds herself in Wakanda giving her the opportunity to further her research using their technology - now that they’ve opened their borders to the rest of the world. She always dreamed of adventure, but never thought she’d cross paths with a former assassin super soldier with a jawline that could cut glass. Trying to navigate her 20′s, career and love life, Bucky Barnes is about to become her compass. 

Word Count: 5,582

A/N: To say I am terrified is an understatement, and I have a tendency to ramble so I’ll keep this short. Basically I wrote this at a time when my anxiety was sky high and just needed to find creative outlet. I never thought I’d ever put it online as I have never written a fanfic before. But I have read what feels like thousands of Bucky fanfics and they have brought me such joy and comfort so I thought if there was even the slightest chance that someone somewhere might read this and smile, it was worth the leap of faith to figure out tumblr and upload. So here we are... 

P.S Please forgive any typos and grammatical errors, I’m an emotional mess 24/6

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

After a long day fuelled only by coffee and short hopeful gazes outside the nearby window, Y/N was called into her boss’s office. It had been six months of working as a research scientist specialising in psychology after a few years of med school. She felt she had learned so much through her work but ironically anxiety was never far and seemed to creep in when the pressure to deliver got too much. But she loved her field and held on to the hope that her hard work and passion for understanding the human brain would take her on a life of adventure. Somehow. One day.

“The Wakandan medical boards have begun to take interest in our research…” her boss was a veteran of the industry with a kind place in his heart for those suffering as he himself once did long ago. “That’s amazing” was all Y/N could say as she was overwhelmed with excitement knowing how much Wakandan technology could further their work. When she was asked to work alongside him in Wakanda for 3 weeks at the kings’ headquarters, all she could squeak out was 'I would love the opportunity, thank you'. Sometimes she just couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't smart enough to be where she was but was always told by those that cared for her that she worked hard enough and didn’t need to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

The flight was long and smooth like the coffee she needed to wake her up to the beautiful Wakandan morning as they landed. But even with the caffeine she found herself zoning out of the meetings that rolled on through the day. She had always been a daydreamer and the Wakandan views felt surreal, Y/N could picture herself sitting under the tallest trees bathed in the glow of the sunrise - the only thing better than the sunsets apparently. She was pulled back to reality by the King’s empowering speech about Wakanda finally being apart of research that could lead to helping those suffering throughout the country – One of whom, seemed to have woken up in a rather good mood that morning. 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair and parted the curtain to his hut just enough to step out and take a pensive look around him. Maybe he wanted to take it all in, again, after months of being in paradise just to remind himself it was real. Or maybe he just wanted to clear all the vantage points for any potential threats. He couldn’t tell the difference anymore. That day however, he felt a sense of safety deep in his bones, as if the tide was finally changing. There were days he would feel so close to the man he used to be, self-assured and in control but these were balanced out by the days he’d barely feel like a ghost of himself, his bones aching with the weight of his past. Shuri came walking over to him seemingly understanding the journey his head had gone through in the last few minutes. “Sergeant Barnes, would you mind coming to the labs? I’ve designed an upgrade for your arm that I think you’re going to like “, “Bucky…” he muttered, reminding Shuri that she was probably the closest thing he had to family, barring Steve. “…Lead the way doc”.

It was only after the session that Shuri convinced Bucky to attend the party that evening. She believed he would remember the fun he used to have in the 40’s and get reconnected to the few happier memories of his past. Now with the trigger words out of his system, a new lease of life (and a farm), she secretly wanted him to meet Y/N, who had become her closest friend over the past few months.   

Shuri was Y/N's point of contact back in London where they would skype to discuss business arrangements, but they became fast friends after Shuri could hear Kendrick Lamar spilling out of her headphones accidentally during one of their business calls. They ended up sharing numbers and messaging each other every day bonding over their passions and finding comfort in one another after a bad day. Shuri got to learn that Y/N didn’t always know her own worth but that she had a heart of gold and kindness within her, just like the Bucky she had begun to unravel.

Y/N was sliding on her last black heel and fixing the dodgy clasp when her boss knocked at her door. She raked a hand through her hair for the fifth time while taking last look in the mirror. The party that night was to welcome all the international doctors and scientists – but mostly give them a chance to let loose. Her long black dress had a slit on her left leg travelling slightly higher than she would usually dare – a dress that Shuri had told her would be perfect. Her dusky pink lipstick made her smile appear brighter to contrast her slickly black lined eyelids. She tucked the hair on her left behind her ear to allow her silver drop down earing to glisten slightly as she hurried to the door.

 A few floors up, Steve helped Bucky with his bow tie. Shuri had left his visit as a surprise for Bucky given that it was his birthday the day before and she hadn’t gotten him anything other than a giant cake with ‘Happy Birthday Senior Citizen’ iced across the top. Steve naturally brought along a few other avengers including Natasha who was sporting a similar dress to Y/N which was no doubt for his benefit later, along with Sam and Clint who just couldn’t stay away from a good party.

Steve instantly picked up on Bucky’s discomfort as he shifted around in his tux. “You nervous?” Steve asked giving Bucky a pat on the back. “It’s just a little weird- haven’t had to wear one of these in a while.” Bucky muttered as he fixed his cufflinks T’Challa gifted him as a thank you for attending the party. Truthfully Bucky was trying to muster up the self-confidence he used to exude, having confronted how closed off he had become with Shuri in their sessions. As if Steve could sense it all he joked with Bucky asking with a sheepish grin, “Remember that time Peggy walked into that pub back in London?”. “How could I forget – the day I became invisible” Bucky muttered back with a smile that reached his eyes in appreciation of his brother trying to pull him out of his own head. “By the way, did you end up taking those girls dancing that night while I was enlisting?” Steve asked through the laughter. The distant memory made a small laugh escape Bucky’s lips as he remembered, “Yeah, you could call it that” - that old confidence pulling him back to the present. They both laughed at the time gone by and gave each other a hug that said everything the other was thinking. “Jerk” Steve muffled by Bucky’s shoulder, “Punk” Bucky retorted.

All the avengers were at the bar when she walked in. Bucky’s eyes widened as they fixated on her like magnets. She cautiously stepped along with her boss, shaking hands with the guests and smiling with sincerity knowing they were all there to support a good cause. He felt she’d never hurt a fly. “Watch it” Bucky joked as Steve nudged the human arm he was using to hold a beer, still grinning a little despite being broken out of his reverie. Steve had seen that smile before, back in the 1940’s when Bucky had set his eyes on a woman to take… dancing.

“I saw where your eyes went..." Steve said, “...I heard she’s a scientist from London…”. Bucky took a long draught of his beer, his eyes never leaving Y/N's back from across the room as she began to take in the vast and beautifully decorated hall. He'd almost finished his beer when Steve said quietly “Go talk to her Buck.” Bucky turned his head just enough for Steve to catch his eyes and in that moment, he could see broken fragments in his friends eyes, understanding that he didn’t want to trouble anyone with his life – let alone the beautiful woman before him. “What have you got to lose?” Steve asked before he was whisked away by Natasha for a dance.

Y/N approached the bar, unknowingly heading for the empty space Steve left. As she came closer, she took in the sight of Bucky feeling a shiver run down her spine at such a man from his side profile as he watched the band begin to warm up, a sound he forgot he loved once so long ago. With a Marlon Brando smoulder, his hair had been slicked back slightly, glistening in the low lighting, and an upper back sculpted from a century of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He turned back to face the bar, leaving his magnificent profile as a snapshot in Y/N’s memory. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked Y/N. Bucky allowed the warmth and softness of her voice, rich like velvet caress his ear, as she ordered a whisky neat. But he sensed the slight anxiousness in her voice, only those closest to her would pick up on. “Actually, could I make that a double? Thanks”. She looked to her left at the man letting out a tiny huff, almost a laugh at the change in her order, and when he caught her gaze he growled out “Good call” as the hall began to heave with more people. She grinned looking back to the bar unable to look his way without blushing. Her eyes widened so briefly in disbelief that a man like him would strike up a conversation with her - lighting her up like a match inside. She didn’t realize Bucky had witnessed the flicker of her eyes and that he’d began to enjoy the effect he had on her. His metal arm whirred ever so slightly, masked by the sounds of the jazz band, due to the way her body had been defined by her dress when her long leg slipped out as she reached to grab her drink.

Bucky realized he’d been staring when she looked back at him. Her adrenaline kicked her mouth open to stumble out the words “Can I get you another?” motioning to his empty pint glass. “I probably shouldn’t” he replied inching ever so slightly closer to her. “Why not?” she teasingly asked. “Well, then I’d have an excuse to tell you that you’re beautiful.” Bucky muttered in a low voice. “When was the last time you used that line?” Y/N retorted thanks to the whiskey she downed in one. Bucky grinning, mistakenly thinking she’d be taken by his words, replied “About 70 years ago”. Y/N let out a sincere laugh, not realizing it was the truth and felt flustered by his charm. The realization that she was flirting with a Greek god of man caused her self-consciousness to creep in, convincing her to escape to the bathroom. “I should probably get ba- “

“You like Jazz?” He asked as his body turned to properly face her, back against the band. Truthfully, she loved it and couldn’t deny what jazz did to her soul. As if Bucky could read her mind, he asked “Do you have a favourite song?” he couldn’t believe the storm that was building inside of him watching her shy eyes drift away as she got lost in thought. “My funny valentine”, she managed to quietly say, with a little shrug Bucky found adorable.

She was pulled out of the bubble Bucky had been building when he began to turn as if to walk away. Her heart skipped a beat as she held breath when he dipped his head closer to her ear and hummed “I’ll be right back”. Her wild eyes locked onto his for a split second before he walked up to Steve and mouthed something to him that made him smile and pat Bucky on the shoulder. Then it clicked, she was watching the winter soldier talking to captain America. Before she could get a little starstruck, he was walking back to her slipping his left metal hand in his pocket. She thought it was a move of confidence when really, he just felt self-conscious of his metal arm, worried that he’d scare her away as she didn’t seem to recognize him straight away like most people. Bucky got used to the terrified faces when his arm was exposed and all the people nervously trying to stay away from him when they recognized him without the arm on display. He didn’t want to risk any of that with Y/N, especially not now that his heart had climbed out of his chest and had bared itself on his sleeve.

As the first few notes of the song began, Y/N’s mouth broke into a wide smile with a little laugh escaping her lips. She realized the band was playing her song and felt heat pulsing at the surface of her skin realizing the former Howling Commando was smiling at her, as he was charmed by her reaction. He was reminded of what life used to be like before the avengers, before Hydra, and back when life was simpler. With the newfound confidence this brought Bucky he held out his right hand just enough to ask her in a way his mother would be proud, “Care to dance?”. “You might have to show me how” she replied, utterly bewitched, a feeling she had never felt with any other man, despite there being a few in the past that saw what Bucky did.

She slid her hand into his feeling the warmth spreading across her body and the electricity between them as she sauntered across the dancefloor with Bucky leading the way. …Is your mouth a little weak… “My name is Y/N by the way” … as you open it to speak... “Bucky”. With their right hands clasped in each other’s, Bucky’s left metal arm snaked around her waist resting gently on her back, cautiously trying not to overstep any boundary as she slowly rested her left hand on his bicep. They fit like a puzzle immediately drawing in closer from the crowd. Her left hand slid over to rest on his shoulder as he began to lead with his right foot, Y/N instinctively let his body guide hers as she stepped back with her left. In a second of bravery, or fear that she’d never have this moment again, she looked up to meet his gaze. They both felt a sense of acceptance and safety in a way neither of them knew existed…. Don’t change a hair for me… Driven by desire, Y/N slipped her hand to the nape of Bucky’s neck, as he immediately followed her lead lowering his hand to the small of her back to bring her an inch closer. Melting into each other’s bodies, their lips were mere inches away when Bucky realized he’d found a moment of heaven …stay little valentine, stay… The smell of Bucky’s cologne drove Y/N to close her eyes and tilt her head with her chin almost over his shoulder as he brought their clasped hands to hold against his chest. Intoxicated by her perfume, he dropped his head down slightly closer to hers leaving them to sway hypnotically to the rest of the song with heavy lidded eyes… each day is valentine’s day… As the applause rang out, Y/N was pulled out of her reverie for a second long enough to see Bucky return to reality as well. They both let out a little huffed laugh, realizing the heat and comfort they found in each other’s embrace was intensifying a little too much for a dancefloor full of people. Bucky began to lead her back to the bar by the hand.

Tony had arrived shortly afterwards pretending to be hurt that there was a party happening on the globe somewhere that he didn’t know about. As a result, the bar was kept open all night testing Tony’s deep pockets, with even more people flooding in from Stark Industries, a few keen to fund the research projects being planned.

Bucky and Y/N found themselves at the bar a few drinks in for what felt like a minute to them but ended up being a few hours. The loud hall began to overwhelm the two so Bucky leaned into Y/N and muttered, “You wanna get outta here?” his Brooklyn accent drawn out by the liquor. “Sure- Oh wait one sec” she replied looking up to grab the attention of the bartender as she signalled something to him. Bucky gave a puzzled look with a lopsided grin as the bartender reached below the bar and discretely pulled out a bottle of expensive whiskey that Shuri had set aside for her as a thank you for attending the party knowing it took a lot for Y/N. “You ready?” Y/N asked Bucky with a little glint in her eye as she received the bottle. “After you, doll” Bucky retorted, pretty impressed by her move and not realizing the pet name had slipped out. She thought her knees were already weak until she heard him call her that.

As they stepped outside, Y/N noticed the undone clasp on her heel and handed Bucky the bottle “Could you hold this for a sec?” Bucky caught a glimpse of the heel as her leg slipped out from the slit in dress. “Allow me, doll” he muttered lowly as he bent down and began to feed the strap through the buckle agonizingly sensually Y/N almost let the bottle slip from her hand. His human fingers danced across her ankle as he finished and fought back the desire to kiss her leg. He made sure not to touch her with his metal fingers in fear that they would scorch her skin with the heat resonating through it, but he couldn’t resist lightly tracing her ankle with his human fingers as he stood back up.

Steve watched the pair leave unbeknownst to them and laughed thinking his beloved Bucky was back. He left later with an arm slung around Natasha’s shoulders with the rest of the avengers hobbling behind- inebriated to say the least.

Bucky stole two shot glasses from the kitchen they passed on their way to the gardens he would use as a retreat sometimes if things got too much. He led her to a nearby bench with a view of the endless night sky and the dancing silhouettes of the guests in the hall from a distance. “Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, best friends since childhood “she muttered slightly tipsy as she crossed her legs and leaned back on her side to face Bucky’s stoic profile, a view she was quickly becoming addicted to. He let out a small laugh but replied in a low voice, “You might be one of the few people that have stuck around for longer than a minute after realizing who I am.” “That can’t be true” Y/N replied softly. Bucky turned to look at her glowing eyes and gave her a reassuring smile as if to say don’t worry about me. “You want to play a game?” Y/N asked wide eyed, aching to see that glint in Bucky’s eyes again as she opened the bottle and began to pour the shots. “It’s probably not very responsible of me to get an avenger drunk though” she joked. “I can’t exactly get drunk” Bucky replied smirking. “Side effect of the serum?” Y/N asked with a raised eyebrow. “So, I’ve been told, doll” Bucky replied, relishing the blush it induced across her body. “You might also be one of the few scientists that have stuck around me for longer than a minute without running any blood tests or asking me about the arm”. Bucky joked flexing his metal fingers. “My research involves more psychological drugs and how they affect the brain actually…” Y/N went on to explain her role in the biggest project Wakanda has been a part of since opening their borders. 

Bucky felt she had a way with words and wanted nothing more than to watch her talk for hours, studying the way her eyes would shine and water slightly when she got a little too passionate. The self-deprecation dusted over her words broke a little part of Bucky’s heart, wanting nothing more than to find out who instilled it in her that she wasn’t good enough - and beat the shit out of them. “I’m sorry to drone on about my work, I hope I didn’t talk you to sleep” she muttered. Bucky just gave her a lopsided grin, shook his head slightly and mumbled “God, you’re incredible”.

Y/N immediately looked down, shaking her head and biting her lip slightly to brush off the compliment. But truthfully, she had never felt so at ease with anyone she had just met. All she knew of the soldier was what she read in the Smithsonian exhibit, unaware of the humanity in the man only seen to the world as Captain America’s best friend – and the iron fist of Hydra.

She cleared her throat in an effort to dissipate the heat that was burning between them and proposed, “How about we ask each other a question, and if we don’t want to answer, take the shot”. “Ladies first”, he grinned already admiring her attempt to get to know each other without the pressure of their pasts.

“So, do you just wake up looking like this or...?” Y/N teasingly asked in an incredulous tone, which made Bucky laugh heartily. “That’s your question?” he asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Well Shuri put some stuff in my hair, but everything else I was born with”. Y/N had to cross her legs a little tighter after feeling the look in his eyes resonate through her body.

“You seemed a little anxious earlier, can I ask why?” Bucky asked sincerely looking up to meet her eyes. “You’re very perceptive Bucky Barnes” Y/N replied with a cautious smile. “I’ve had to be” he replied with honesty and a slight eyebrow raise. “Well, I love my job but sometimes it can get intense and I freak out a little. Sometimes I just need a minute to breathe you know? - which can be hard when I’m surrounded by a bunch of scientists with decades of experience.” Y/N said in a quieter voice. “You belong up there with the best of’em Y/N” Bucky whispered leaning closer as her eyes met his. “You don’t even know me” Y/N whispered incredulously as her foot rested against his leg. “Why do I get the feeling we understand each other better than we know”. Before Y/N could get completely intoxicated by the Greek god of a man gently moving a strand of hair from her neck, Y/N stated with false confidence “Alright last question sergeant, and you’ve got to be honest”. Bucky smirked at the pet name, trying to hide how much he loved hearing it roll her off her tongue. “Favourite movie?” she asked. Bucky found himself in disbelief that he had been talking so effortlessly with someone he had just met without diving into the pain of his missions or life as an avenger. Which was always the topic of his conversations at any gathering Tony forced him to attend for the sake of the team.

“You probably won’t know it but, Top Hat. Fred Astaire and- “, Y/N finished his sentence nodding “… and Ginger Rogers”. “I used to save up, see all their movies on the big screen when I was a kid” he continued, pleasantly surprised by her knowledge. Not thinking she could fall further for the charming super soldier anymore she replied, “That explains the impeccable dance earlier”. Her face was flushed remembering Bucky’s strong embrace. “You weren’t so bad yourself, doll”. He could almost feel her fingertips delicately slide across his neck again. Bucky raised one of the untouched shots, “To the way you wear your hat”, to which Y/N replied, “The way you sip your tea”. After the pair downed both shots, Bucky felt more superhuman than usual and Y/N was close behind. They both agreed it was getting late after seeing most of the guests begin to trail out of the building wobbling. Much like them, Y/N stood up too quickly and lost her balance. Bucky instinctively reached out to hold her hand with his human hand as she steadied herself. Part of him had been craving contact ever since they stopped dancing, and Y/N willingly leaned into his touch. “You gonna be alright doll?”, “I’ll be fine, I’m just staying on the 4th floor” Y/N replied. “I’ll walk you up.” Bucky muttered.

On the slow walk back, the questions didn’t stop as Y/N felt completely at ease with the iron fist of hydra. “You could probably carry a car, or a house” she slurred, more of a verbal realization than a question as Bucky let out a hearty laugh and mumbled “Well I’ve lifted a motorbike”. “I could do that!” Y/N jested. “With one hand, while it’s moving?” Bucky asked with an eyebrow raised raising his glistening metal hand. “Yeah I couldn’t do that” she mumbled shaking her head laughing.

After her clasp came undone again, Bucky asked “You sure you’re ok to walk my love”. “My love?” she slurred smiling slightly, heavy lidded. He blamed the alcohol for the term of endearment, and also hoped she wouldn’t pick up on it not realising she was hanging on his every word. “You know what!” Y/N mumbled as she slipped off her shoes to walk barefoot. “I am now”. Bucky laughed and guided her down the grassy path with his hand on the small of her back. She instinctively held on to his arm and as a cooler breeze began to weave through the gardens. They both leaned in a little closer with her arm spreading across his chest to reach his other shoulder as she turned to avoid facing the sharper winds. “Com’ere, doll” Bucky took this as an invitation and picked her up to carry her bridal style. Y/N squeaked a little in surprise and almost dropped a shoe but allowed herself to lean her head into his shoulder. 

Bucky carried her to her door without breaking a sweat while she absent-mindedly snaked her hand from his neck up to his jaw beginning to turn his head to face hers. Upon reaching the door, he gently eased her onto the ground while remaining entangled in each other’s limbs and eyes locked both still feeling slightly buzzed. Bucky leaned down as she leaned upwards her lips a breath away from his. “I’m sorry for being- I don’t usually- Thank you for-“ Bucky pressed his lips to hers cutting her off, the only way he knew how to say thanks for pulling him out of his head and reminding him of what it felt like to be a regular guy with an honest woman after so long. But he pulled back in a flash, searching her eyes for any hesitation, already worried he had been too forward. She used her hand on his jaw to guide him back down to her mouth and tested her tongue against his bottom lip. Bucky immediately parted his lips to allow the boundary to be broken as he pushed her back to her front door. As they pulled away in need of air, he growled in a low voice “Goodnight doll”, worried he couldn’t control the overwhelming lust and thought it best he peel himself away sooner rather than later. 

She reached overhead to slip the card out from the ledge above the door (her terrible hiding place) and slid it over the key pad without breaking eye contact with Bucky for a second, “Would you um.. like to come in?”. He pushed the handle of the door open, so she didn’t have to turn, but stepped back just a fraction to rub his jaw slightly, to ground himself and let her enter first. He took a few tentative steps inside looking around briefly to see a few conservative dresses on the back of a chair - the failed options for that evening’s affair, and a few bits of makeup splayed across a small ivory vanity. His eyes landed back on Y/N who had raised her leg on the side of the bed to examine her sore ankle, her leg shamelessly on display through the slit. He immediately moved to the space between her legs, his left hand dragging up the exposed leg and his head bent down a little to push his lips on hers again. She raised her leg a little higher accepting Bucky’s touch and to her surprise he began to lift her. Wrapping her other leg around his waist, her arms snaked around his neck and their kiss deepened with his large hands holding her thighs, both swallowing each other’s moans and letting their mouths do all the work. Bucky had never kissed or been kissed like that. Not even in the 40’s. It was the kind of kiss that was needed when words didn’t exist to convey the magnetizing pull they had on each other.  

Pulling their lips away to breathe they both caught each other’s eyes as Bucky lowered her to the bed. Nothing but hunger consumed them both, craving an intimacy they never knew was possible. Bucky took his time, the need for her to feel loved and safe superseding any of his animalistic desires. Trailing light passionate kisses all over her body getting lower and lower. She felt every kiss lighting her on fire. Growing wetter with each second, she reached her hand down to feel the long locks of his hair and arched her back as he kissed her clothed heat over her underwear. Immediately looking up to see if she hesitated in any way, he was met with her lustful but sincere smile. When he slipped off her underwear and began to work Y/N into a frenzy, he carefully slid his fingers in and began to move and curl them upwards like stroking a feather. She couldn’t help but let out a moan of such pleasure that Bucky had to remind himself to breathe for fear of combustion. Y/N leaned up to pull Bucky back to her lips by his jaw and began unbuttoning his shirt as his knees climbed either side of her legs. He yanked off his tie as she slipped off his blazer and unzipped his pants. With each kiss getting sloppier and deeper, he lowered her down again using his knee to part her legs and press himself against her as her hands splayed over his broad upper back. Y/N ripped open the foil she grabbed from her bedside drawer and began to roll a condom down his rock hard length. He looked up to her flushed face, the bleeding eyeliner making her brown eyes pop out even more with pupils so dilated he felt himself drowning. Consumed by Bucky’s darkened features, she couldn’t help but gasp as he eased into her. Immediately cupping her jaw he asked, “Is this okay?”. She kissed him in reply, with such fervour to make him feel how safe she felt, that the pair couldn’t help but roll their hips to meet each others setting a rhythm that felt like waves crashing against a shore. “Bucky I- “she moaned breathlessly as she arrived at the edge. “Let go, doll” he growled out as he felt her release around him and him the same. Coming down from their highs Bucky leaned over to her side feeling a satisfying exhaustion taking off the condom and tossing it in the trash can near the bed. He turned to look at her face, studying her side profile as her chest was still heaving and she swallowed hard. She met his eyes when she turned to face him and immediately a grin spread across her face not quite believing what had just occurred and how good he had made her feel. She let out a small giggle looking away, “What is it?” Bucky asked with a similar grin forming due to her amusement. “I just, I just can’t believe- “she began. “Neither can I” he reassured her knowing what she was about to say. He raised a hand to her cheek and softly stroked stray hairs away from her eyes, and in exhaustion they fluttered closed and she was asleep in minutes, the stress of the day melting away. He fell asleep too but woke after an hour, he looked at her bedside clock reading 4am. He scrubbed a hand over his face and got up as to not disturb the beauty lying next to him. He pulled the covers over her exposed shoulders as she nestled herself slightly more into the pillow and he swore he saw the corners of her mouth curl upwards slightly when he ghosted his lips over her forehead. He grabbed his blazer and shirt and padded softly out of her room. Worst case scenario he couldn’t risk her having to witness what his nightmares did to him but mostly couldn’t shake the doubt he had as to whether she would’ve wanted him around when she woke.

Chapter 2 

alright, it’s a bit past midnight so I should get writing. today was pretty good. I woke up to my alarm at 10:30 which gave me half an hour to make myself presentable from the waist up at least for my Skype interview, lol, which wasn’t too difficult to get done. The interview went pretty well, it was fairly informal because they’re basically a company that gets projects from law firms that are outsourcing and they can submit our resumes for projects and see if we get selected. Most of them are fairly short term but would be a solid work day, and it would be on location in the loop which I think is probably a good thing because even if I had work to do on my laptop I still think being in my apartment alone all day would drive me nuts. So that’s looking positive, he said compensation differs per project but the unlicensed stuff is generally $22-$25 an hour while some of the licensed work (which I could do if it was available) would be more in the $30′s, so that’s good. Didn’t last all that long, but it was good. From there I kinda bummed around a bit before getting ready and heading out to my haircut appointment. It’s been a lot better than the freezing temps from last week, but it was still like 32 today so not exactly warm. I decided my best option to get there was to walk a bit to a bus that goes right by the Ulta, so I did that. I arrived a few minutes early so I browsed the products for a few before heading back to their salon area. I always love seeing my salon person because she’s super great and we always have a great time talking while she's doing my hair, and we had lots to catch up on since I hadn’t been there since July (since I’ve kinda been letting my hair grow out). Today was basically just to make all of it more even because it was a good deal longer in the back than in the front, so we got it more into a traditional bob cut which is generally my preferred hair length so I’m pleased with that. Once we were done I went back to viewing their products because I had a few things written down that I was looking for, so I picked up a concealer from them that’s supposed to be really good and a bottle of lotion because I’m almost out of the stuff the allergist told me to get. So I checked out there, then walked down to the Sephora down the street, because one of the things I was looking for was Sephora brand, so I couldn’t just get it at Ulta. I was looking at eyeliner options and such at Ulta but decided to hold off till I get to Sephora. So once I got there I found the lip stain pencils I had been looking for (I can’t like, do anything lip color that has any scent whatsoever because my body hates me so I can basically only use lip stains) then talked to some employees a bit about finding a black eyeliner that wouldn’t kind of smear down my face as the day goes on and a mascara that was a bit less clumpy than the one I was using. I felt bad because I was coming in and complaining about what were basically their top of the line products (I had been using urban decay eyeliner and better than sex waterproof mascara) but they just kinda laughed at that and said it was really fine, the better than sex mascara is their top seller but if you asked any of the employees in the store for the best one, they probably wouldn’t pick that. But they got me hooked up with some good options that I was able to test (sanitarily, thankfully, they seem to have that down) so I got those along with the two lip stains, and picked up a tiny bottle of hand lotion to keep in my purse from the check out line. Once I was done there I had to walk a bit over to where the nearest Sally’s location is, which happened to be closer to my old job than I thought it was (I could see the building from the front of the store) so I was kinda 😑 about that but oh well. I was looking for the same bleach kit I got there back in like, 2015, the last time I had lightened some streaks in my hair, and after some consultation with the employees I found it fairly easily and got that. At this point it was threatening to ice storm starting within an hour or so, which meant if I took the red line home by the time I would have to make my 20 minute walk home there’s a fair chance I could get stuck walking through an ice storm, which I would definitely like to avoid, so I went ahead and got an $8 uber pool which worked out nicely. There were two other pool people, one of which was loudly on her phone for pretty much all of it, and once she got off the driver started laughing and telling us everything that was going on before we got in the car and it was pretty funny. the uber app again attempted to drop me in the middle of the street where I’d have to jaywalk across a fairly busy road to get home, but I was paying attention to the app and asked to just be dropped off at the corner before that, which they thankfully did, so I appreciated that (at this point I’m like, should I like write to uber about this?? because it’s definitely a safety hazard, like I’d probably be fine but if it’s doing this to other people they could end up in a very bad situation, but idk if it would actually make a difference, sigh). Got home and unpacked all my stuff before going to the couch with my laptop where I finished the rest of the episode about crazy cool homes I had been watching on netflix before switching over to whatever the news was saying and just leaving it on there for a bit. Jess wasn’t planning on coming over because it was supposed to ice storm. but apparently it never actually did....so she came over and we ordered sushi/Japanese food (because we’re literally always on the same page about food lol. She hasn’t been keeping up with The Flash but was two weeks behind on Arrow so we watched last week’s episode before watching last night’s episode which we missed. It was a rather peculiar episode I would say, I don’t know how I feel about the whole documentary format, I didn’t really feel like it added much to the plot (thought I did appreciate seeing at least 30 seconds of my girl Sara on the screen). The plot with William was kinda weird, then of course there was the flash forward at the end regarding the documentary and someone named “Connor” (as in Connor Hawke) which would make a lot more sense as a timeline that it would reasonably be John Diggle Jr. than it did when he supposedly showed up in 2046 and was definitely not pushing 40. Once we finished that we were kinda meh about anything else we had to pay too much attention to because Jess was writing and I had been trying to figure out how to get my podcast mic to work since the other pieces came in today, but unfortunately I’ve been entirely unsuccessful so far, I ordered another piece that some online sources said will solve the problem, so I’m hoping that will work, because I’m pretty much lost as to how to get it to work. So for these reasons we turned on netflix’s Sabrina show which we’ve been casually watching without putting too much commitment into, so we finished the last episode we were on then got about halfway through the next one before the blu ray player started wigging out and not working, so at that point Jess headed home and I switched over to live tv, just in time for the democratic response to the SOTU address, which I was very intentionally not tuning into, but I thought the response was pretty damn good, especially compared to the one the democrats gave after president douche’s last televised speech. From there it led onto news which I let play for a little bit before starting to get ready for bed and hopping in the shower, and now I am here. I am quite tired at this point since I did get to bed awfully late last night and didn’t sleep in all that much, so I would very much like to be asleep as soon as possible, so I’m gonna do that now. Goodnight babes. Stay lovely.

Chapter 10

Tuesday, January 13th,  8:00am Huis ten Bosch Palace , The Hague, Netherlands

Harry sat on his place in the dining table alone this morning. It was Arabella's portrait reveal at Rijksmuseum at Amsterdam. It was about an hour's journey by car to get there and they would have to leave at ten to arrive there on time at eleven for the portrait reveal at twelve thirty. After that, they would have a private lunch and tour of the museum and straight after that, Arabella is showing him around Amsterdam, where they would get married and show him the royal palace. They also scheduled in a short tour of the Anne Frank House and after that have a romantic date on the canal.

Arabella is currently upstairs in her closet getting ready for the portrait unveiling, but Harry is downstairs eating breakfast and catching up on some news before getting ready himself. He knew he had to prepare himself for this particular engagement. Yesterday, since it was so soon after the announcement, he didn’t get the proper public treatment. Sure, they were excited to have him there and was happy to see them both out and about so soon after the announcement, but today, today is different. People had time for the news to sink in, people had time to make opinions of him not doing a good job or criticising him for something he did wrong. He always hated the public when they turn on you and he doesn’t want that to happen to himself.

Harry knew that amongst his own family, his poll numbers were very high, not as high as his grandmother's but high enough to keep the public loving him. Compare his to Arabella's though and his seemed like an ant size compared to hers. Not only is she severely loved by her people, but also by the world. She has visited so many countries and done so many charity works to help those people in need. People love her. She's not only a people princess but also to their leaders, she have charmed her way into the worlds heart. Not only that, she also have faced threats for her life before. Sure, a lot of those were just hate mail and letter, but last week, someone had attempted to stab her during an engagement. What makes him so sure that they won't try again? Only this time, how is he so sure that they're not going to try another tactic?

Harry had wanted to talk about this issue with Arabella's head of security, Finn since yesterday and this morning, Finn will be meeting Harry to talk about the safety measures that has taken place since the attempt.

"Your Royal Highness, Mr Finn sir." Pieter announced as he entered the dining room and bowed his head.

"Yes, thank you Pieter." Harry looked up from the papers and put them aside.

“Sir,” Finn nodded at Harry as he entered the room.

“Please, have a seat, Finn.” Harry gestures to the chair infront of him across the table.

“I understand you have security concerns regarding yours and the Princess?”

“Yes, I would like to know the risks as well as what safety measures you have in case anything like the attempt happened again.”

“The Princess have been receiving threats since she was sixteen years old sir. It ranges from mild threats like telling her she should starve and kill herself to those that have detailed ways to kill her. Though majority of the public love the Princess, there are few that doesn’t, especially those who wants the monarchy to be extinct, in their words” Finn told Harry. “Over the years, the threats would range, they would sometimes come every week through the letters or once a few months. However, when King Willem-Alexander was made King, the threats became more frequent, more detailed with promises instead of just words.”

“What are the measures you’ve taken since the threats began?”

“When The Princess was born, she is assigned one protection officer. When she started getting threatening messages at sixteen, we upgraded to two PO’s, when she was twenty four, she got three protection officers when someone tried to beat her up. Once King Willem-Alexander became king, he appointed her four PO’s as well as undercover agents everywhere when we are out in public. There are snipers available if we are at an official engagement and even more police force on the ground. There are one safe house and three bunkers in every city and town in the Netherlands. Top security systems made by engineers of the palace have been placed as well as a tracker in every piece of clothing the princess owns. The tracker is sown into the clothing itself so it is untraceble to people who doesn’t know where to find them. The tracker is only online once she hits the panic button inside her purse. The Princess brings a panic button everywhere and there is a panic button in every room in the palace. The cars that the Princess uses are armoured in case of an attack. Every angle is covered and every situation is thought off. I take my job very seriously and this is the heir of the country. If anything were to happen to her, I don’t think the country can cope with that loss.”

“I don’t think anyone who has ever known Arabella could cope with that loss, Finn.” Harry shook his head before standing up. “Thank you, for informing me this.”

“Just doing my job sir. When you got engaged to the Princess, you are automatically protected under the same conditions as the Princess sir. While my top priority is the Princess, James, Arthur and Samuel have been briefed with the procedures should anything were to happen. You will be the first to get out of the situation and will be forced to do so if you do not comply. Our job is to make sure you are safe, mentally and physically, and no harm will come to you, your highness.” Finn said standing up. “If you have any more concerns, please do call for me and I will be happy to answer them. The car will be ready at quarter to ten. It’s a complete convoy your highness, so you should prepare yourself. Princess Arabella could not talk her way out of this.” With that Finn exited the room and left Harry confused.

“Complete convoy? What does that even mean?” Harry asked himself before going to his and Arabella’s shared closet and got ready for the portrait reveal.

Arabella walked in the room and smiled to Harry. “You ready to go?” She leaned up to kiss him softly.

“Yeah.” He looked at her questioningly. “What the hell is a complete convoy?”

“Finn was here?”

“How’d you know it was Finn?”

“Because Finn is the only person I know who uses the term complete convoy.” Arabella laughed. “It just means that we get blocked roads, police escorts and armoured cars. That’s all.” Arabella assured Harry. “There’s going to be a lot of cars and maybe a few people from the military there to greet us.” Arabella smirked at him before leaving his arms to go out the door. “You do know how to salute, right Captain?”

“She’s going to be the death of me. I swear.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The difference between this engagement and the last is that Harry is officially part of the Dutch monarchy, since he is engaged to the heir after all. During the car ride to Amsterdam, Arabella explained to him what he needed to do. She wasn’t sure if he has ever been to a portrait reveal, especially a special one at that.

“The ceremony itself doesn’t take long. It’s mostly speeches made by the painter, the museum curator and myself. We should be in and out in two hours tops. After that we are going to greet the crowds, say hello for a few minutes and we’re off to the Anne Frank house. I know you’ve been here before but you haven’t been here with me. You’ll get the full royal treatment as my fiancé and not just prince Harry of Wales okay. So be prepared. Do not show any signs of you being bored at all. Everything is recorded. Okay?” Arabella looked at Harry.

“Relax, this isn’t my first time on an engagement okay? Remember I’m a Royal too. I might not be the heir but I am a senior member of my family. You have nothing to worry about okay. “ Harry reassured Arabella.

“I know. I just don’t want anything to go wrong today. Getting my portrait at the Rikjsmuseum is a big deal to me. You only get them done when you’ve done something to benefit the society. My father, my grandmother and all off my predecessors have got their portrait in the Rikjsmuseum.”

“I love you. I’m right next to you every step of the way. You are amazing okay? Don’t ever doubt that. And you have achieved so much. This painting, is just something to honour you. You’ve done so much for your country. Trust me the people love you. With or without the painting. It doesn’t measure how much you’ve achieved, because I don’t think you can measure something like that.”

“I love you too.” Arabella smiled at him before kissing him lightly. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Once they arrived at Rikjsmuseum, Arabella wasn’t kidding. The complete convoy, filled with barricades, lots of cars and people as well as the military. As usual, Harry got out of the car first before going to Arabella’s side and help her down the car. She held his hands as he got both feet on the group very gracefully. The pair waved to the crowds before heading to the line of people waiting to meet them.

They greeted Arabella by giving her a curtsy as well as a bow to him afterwards. A little girl then came up infront of Arabella and had her bend down a little to greet the young girl.

“Hi whats your name?” Arabella shook her tiny hands.

“My name is Maria and these are for you.” The little girl gave Arabella a bouquette of flowers.

“These are beautiful thank you.” Arabella brought them up the her nose and smelled them. “How old are you Maria?”

“I just turned 6 years old.”

“Well you’re very pretty for being six years old.” She smiled at Maria before standing back up.

Harry saw the exchange Arabella had with Maria and couldn’t be more starstrucked. He couldn’t wait to start a family with her.

They waved one more time before going inside the museum.

Once inside, the museum curation and manager, who introduced herself as Kira Lewis, started showing them around the museum. It was a short tour, which Harry found to be very informational. Mostly about the history of the Netherlands, and how creative the painters are. The person who painted the portrait of Arabella introduced himself as Robert Phillius, , a well-known artist. He joined the tour around the museum as well as the Military officer. As they come to the room where the painting will be reveals, there was a podium next to the painting, as well as a curtain over it. There was also rows of photographers, wanting to record everything that happened in the room. In front of the sea of photographers stood one that Harry has seen around the palace and everywhere Arabella go, and that is Ms. Tatiana. She will get the exclusive and high definition photos that will be released by both Kensington Palace and the Dutch Royal Family's social medias.

The museum curator stepped up behind the podium and cleared her throat. While Harry, Robert and Arabella stood to her side. "Good Afternoon, Your Royal Highness the Princess of Orange, Prince Henry of Wales, and fellow guests. It is truly an honour for me to have you here today. It marks an incredible achievement for both the museum as well as the attendees. It is with great pleasure to introduce to you Her Royal Highness The Princess of Orange.” A round of applause thundered the room as well as flashes of lights and clicking sounds from photographers who wants to capture the moment. Smiling, Arabella went up to Kira, and shook her hand.

"Thank you Ms. Lewis, for that wonderful introduction. Before I begin, I would like to thank both Ms Lewis and Rijksmuseum for having me and my fiancé here today, it is such an honour to be unveiling the portrait. It signifies a new era, a new beginning. As a child, I always admired art. I would remember running around the halls of The Royal Palace here in Amsterdam, and looking at paintings and portraits of my ancestors. I remember thinking, that would be me up there one day. I would like to share with you this one memory I have of when I was thirteen years old. It was two years after my mother passed and I turned to art as a form of refuge. I started painting. I assure you, I was not as good as any of these artists, but I used it as a form of escape. I've always had a burden on my shoulders. A burden I would most likely pass on to my eldest child and their children. Things for me have come as fast as they go, but art has been the one thing that have been constant in my life. So to have a portrait of me hanging in the same halls as my ancestors, that’s putting a mark in society. You don’t have to be born a royal to do great things, you don’t have to have education certificates to achieve your dreams, and you certainly do not need a money to put your name on the maps. Sure, being a royal gives you the platform to spread awareness, sure education certificates helps you apply for jobs and sure having money can do wonders, but if you don’t have passion, if you don’t have your moral values and just love in general, you won't get far in life. So thank you Mr Phillius for painting me, thank you Ms Lewis for having me here and thank all of you here, for without you, my voice won't be heard." A thunderous round of applause rang throughout the hall. There were cameras flashing and people smiling. Arabella stepped off to the side took a hold on the ropes, with Kira Lewis on the other side as well as Robert Phillius next to her, they pulled on the curtains and the cover came off. Everyone was on their feet, clapping their hands and taking a lot of pictures, because there stood a portrait of Her Royal Highness The Princess of Orange Princess Arabella of the Netherlands, standing proud and tall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So this is the Anne Frank House." Harry said looking up at the building. "I thought it would be, you know, older."

"It was during world war two, not the sixteenth century. Gosh what did you learn in school Harry?" Arabella looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"We probably did learn about this, but I was probably too busy to pay attention. I didn’t really like history."

"Yeah maybe that was because you were history." Arabella snickered. "Oh, that was a good one, wasn’t it Lucas?"

"Yes ma'am." Lucas replied from behind the pair and had heard everything they were saying.

"Now that’s not fair, you're his boss, of course he's going to agree with you." Harry pouted.

The engaged couple along with their protection officers went inside Anne Frank House and had a private tour. Inside, even though it wasn’t an official engagement, Arabella’s personal photographer was taking pictures of the pair.

After the Anne Frank house, they went around Amsterdam for a while as they wait for their very own cruise on the river. They held hands, talk to some food venders and bought junk food along the way. There were a lot of photographer following them and a lot of pictures were printed the next day. This small impromptu outing made the nation fall more in love with the pair and got very excited for the wedding.

During their walk, Harry could be seen with his hands either holding Arabella’s, on her waist or around her shoulders. It made the public swoon and sigh in happiness at the blatant public display of affections. Harry thought it was a special day and he wanted to let the people know how much he loves Arabella and how proud he was of her.

Considering this was his first official public appearance as Arabella's fiancé, it wasn’t all that bad. They talked to the people who showed up and who they met along the way, they would stop and say hello, they weren't being rude to the public or inconsiderate and in return, the couple were mostly left to their own privacy. Sure there was an occasional photographer here and there, but Finn was quick to go to them and tell them that this was not an official appearance and reminded them about the agreement.

As the sky turned dark, the pair and their entourage went to the canal pier and got inside their personal cruise ship. The lights are on and festivities continued in the name of Arabella's thirtieth birthday so music was flowing and laughter can be heard all over Amsterdam. Having their date night on a cruise ship, Harry felt more at ease as they sail further away from civilization and have some private time. He wasn’t against being in public, but he would rather them have some time alone where he could relax a little bit.

"So how did you find today?" Arabella looked at Harry from her seat across the table as the waiter on hand poured them some white wine.

"It was good. I really enjoyed it. Not as bad as I thought it would be." Harry smiled as he took a sip of his drink. "You do realise that I'm not some common person who is new to all this right? I am a royal and I know what to expect in these type of things."

"Of course I know that. It was one of the reasons why I love you so much. You understand me. You know how it feels like to be in this crazy world, being watched like animals at an exhibition. I know you know what to expect but this is different. If anything were to happen to daddy, god forbid, we will be the next monarch. If anything were to happen that would injure daddy making him unavailable to rule for a small period of time, we will be the standing monarch. Don’t you get it? After daddy, it's me. I can't travel anywhere with my father in the same vehicle, one of us have to be in the country at all times, I'm next in line Harry. I'm uncle Charles. I just want you to understand what you're getting yourself into." She stared deeps in his eyes. "I know you hate being in the spotlight, hate being who you are. And I know that sometimes, you wish, you desperately wish to be normal. I know you love that you're the spare and you don’t get that much burden of being king someday, but marrying me, it’s a sure thing that you're going to be king one day. You are definitely going to be King in the future."

"I'm not backing out." Harry took her hands in his. "I'm with you till the end of the line Bella." Arabella giggled as he quote her favourite line from Captain America: The First Avenger. "Always." With that, he brought her closer to him and kissed her slowly.

"I love you Harry."

"I love you Bella."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ "Your Royal Highness, Ms Anna is here with the questions regarding tomorrow's interview we have compiled." Pieter announced as he stepped into Arabella's home office that night.

"Yes, send her in please." Arabella smiled at Pieter before going back to her laptop and going over some files regarding one of her charities.

"Ma'am, these are the previous questions the British media would ask during an engagement interview. I have compiled them and cross referenced them to popular questions asked by the public. Since this royal family typically don’t give out interviews and instead give out a press conference, we will be doing both tomorrow. The press conference first in the morning at ten, followed by the interview at ten thirty and after lunch will be the engagement photoshoot."

"Thank you Anna. Could you call Jane and finalise everything for my travels to London this weekend, tell her to prepare the jet and have Eva pack my clothes as well. Make sure she packs everything from casual, to formal, to ball gowns please. I don’t know what out itinerary over there so be prepared. I'm not sure I need to bring any tiaras but bring the Sapphire Teardrop jewellery collection and the Cartier diamond jewellery set as well. I think that should be all. Thank you."

Anna nodded before placing the folder filled with questions on the table and curtsy before leaving the room. Arabella sighed before leaning over and opening up the folder. Inside, there are two to three pages filled with questions that they have asked before. Arabella have done this many times, give interviews about her charities, press conferences and speak to thousands of people at a time, but that doesn’t mean she still doesn’t get nervous.

Her heart still beats fasting, her hands still get sweaty and Arabella would still bite her lips as she mentally prepares herself with the questions and the proper answers to give them.

"Hey, there you are." Harry leaned against the doorway. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I had some files I needed to check for one of my charities." Arabella smiled weakly up at him.

"What's wrong love?"

"Anna came in just a few minutes before you did. It wasn’t anything wrong per se. It's just she gave me a file of previous questions asked for the interview. I know I shouldn’t be nervous, but I can't help it." Arabella shrugged.

"Hey, what did I tell you just now?" Harry walked closer to where Arabella sat on her chair. "We're in this together. If you want, we can always practice our answers. Okay?" Harry took her hands and kissed them slowly.

"Okay." Arabella whispered back with a small smile.

"Now, let's see the questions." Harry dropped Arabella's hands and moved on to take the questions papers.

"Here." Arabella passed him the file and he went to the couch across the table and sat down.

"First question…."

Next Chapter 

Making performance 2 blog Performance overview The key themes and issues within our performance were, sex trafficking, violence, abuse, sex, rape, prostitution, grooming, abuse, child abuse, suicide, and nudity, loss of identity, curupt society, and modern society. Our vision for the performance was to create a documentary piece that would educate, entertain and enlighten. By including statistics in our script it made the performance become a reality. Linking the performance to delight, We wanted to put our own twist on it and how the victims can gain back their identity and the delights in life. Enlightening our audience on the matter and structuring the performance in a way that does not horrify them meant we enlightened them on the subject, and did not push them away from wanting to help and educate others. In relation to the dramaturgical decisions, we took a lot of time discussing what movements would work and not, throughout the performance we made pre recorded sequences which included, cat walks, chair duet, and walking sequences. The reasoning for these choices was to make our performance as physical as possible and now covid regulations have changed we thought we would make the most of it, and give the audience a sense of liveness online and in person. The start of the performances started with Iona, Josh and I with bags on our heads and a pre-recorded video beforehand, we used breathing techniques at the start to create an atmosphere for the performance which then led to the opening monologues. Our lighting remained neutral for the monologues however we used red lighting in our pre recorded videos to represent the colour of love and sex, despite us playing the victims it represented how the victims are treated /perceived, yet a simple thing like sex which is so personal and private has been taken away from them, and is viewed by them as unsatisfying and tiring. We used props such as stockings, toothpaste, red lipstick, condoms and perfume. We wanted to make this live section very intense and seductive. Despite the realisation that the victims are being forced to work for traffickers it showed their day to day life of getting ready, we physically spat out our toothpaste, we slowly put on the stocking to create a sensual atmosphere, applying lipstick slowly and then getting close to the camera asif we was kissing the audience, little moments like these really structures the performance. The last section of monologues included our shadow work, we made the movement slow and meaningful and in one section the victim would get slapped which then sped up the rhythm of the piece, we ended the piece with Iona playing a victim who is spotted by charity workers, you see her struggle with leaving the pillow case and walking off, which then led to our last pre record video of a fire that had all the victims names on pillowcases that were then placed into the fire. Research into For our performance we chose the genre documentary, this meant that we would have to devise and write our own script, whilst researching possible sources and interviews which we could use within our script. Before deciding on this we did research into Derek Paget and all the information we needed to create a successful documentary performance, ‘when Derek Paget first wrote of the use of tape recorders to make documentary theatre, he noted that documentary forms were situated at the ‘edges of the professional theatre’ (1987: 317, sited by Cantrell, 2013:1), documentary theatre has come a long way and has become very popular, and today is seen as a ‘mainstream british theatre tradition’(Cantrell, 2013:1). We found sources from interviews, articles and government reports, which helped put together our script and what angle we wanted to take to structure our performance. Documentary drama is also known to contain many other elements and theatre techniques,‘The genre typically includes or is referred to as verbatim theatre, investigative theatre, theatre of fact, theatre of witness, autobiographical theatre, and ethnodrama’(Wikipedia, 2021). This genre has allowed us to be more creative and develop our own performance around a very significant matter, sex trafficking. Our two main influences for our performance were frantic Assembly and Berkoff, we decided on these because we wanted to focus on physical theatre. Whilst researching frantic assembly we thought it was crucial to follow some exercises that frantic assembly would do in workshops, ‘In the early stages of rehearsal we may ask our performers to improvise using rolls and lifts without ever coming off the floor, (Hoggett, by Scott Graham and steven, 2004:87). With our performance being so physical, exercises like these really helped create ideas for our physical movement/moments. Berkoff and Frantic Assembly both have similarities as they both like to focus on physicality, Our monologues/dialogues within our script was well thought through, therefore too much movement would distract the audience from the dialogue, however whilst researching Berkoff it was found that ‘Berkoffian actors use techniques such as background movement, repetitive actions, and mime to explore further the ways in which Berkoff approaches exchanges between two characters’, in our performance we worked with shadowing and background movement so that it does not distract the audience, but still creates meaning. Both Berkoff and Frantic Assembly worked well together with our research and gave us ideas/techniques on how we could make our performance physically successful, whilst still focusing on the speech. Sex trafficking was the most interesting to research into for me individually, as it was educational and shocking when finding statistics and articles. Shockingly from our findings it is aparant there is far more sex trafficking happening then what we know about worldwide, and although ‘UK authorities have began to launch aggressive anti-trafficking law enforcement efforts to uncover trafficking and identify victims’, the media and individuals still have a guard up around the sensitive subject. After researching individuals who have been victims of sex trafficking we wanted to share their experiences and stories, looking into research studies it was found that ‘one participant talked about being angry at anyone and everyone, another participant talked about being angry specifically at her trafficker, herself, and that no one had ever come looking for her’(Mumey et all, 2021:187). It was evident our main focus was to create justice for all the victims and create a physical piece that would symbolise all the emotions developed before and after being trafficked. Victims’ attitude and views of the world soon changed after being trafficked, and some would say ‘all men became potential “clients,” relationships became transactional and not for pleasure, and family became the other individuals working for the same exploiter’(Mumey et al, 2021:187). Reviews and analysis Shakesqueer by Tom Marshman Tom Marshman executed a wonderful digital performance, creating a sense of liveness, a montage of shakespeare plays, and queer atmopshere. What I took from the performance and would use in my own work was the idea of a moveable trolley, so that movement can be more fluid and moments with the audience could be more intimate,e.g getting close to camera and using eye contact and facial expressions. He embrased his sexual ora and used it in his favour to create a queer alternative view on shakespears plays, whilst also enteraining the audience. He quoted in the Q&A that his inspiration was heavily focused on David Bowie and his use of mime, this is also something that was used effectively and created an abstract illusion with the editing to create a mirrored effect of Toms face, whilst also quoting from A midsummers night dream. His change of costumes and backdrop developed on the idea of how crazy and vibrant shakespeare plays are, him and the tech team used appropriate music to compliment the scenes, overall the performance was very creative, however when performing we have to try and remain in character and focused despite whatever distractions occur. Sharps teeth Sherlock in Homes Sharps teeth did an amazing job of creating a live murder mystery and really engaged their audience, the main element/moment for me was the idea of breakout groups, this allowed them to create a personal relationship with the audience and also use improvisation for them as their character. We would ask the character we was investigating questions about the murder and at the end of each investigation they would give us a slight hint about the muder and leave, for me this small technique seemed to draw me in even more, even when i knew it was coming. Another element that impressed me was the costuming and background, they really did embrace their characters and not hold back, for me this virtually allowed me to put myself in that exact room with them and see in the backgrounds of the potential tools they used to kill the victim, which was also purposefully intended by the director. This performance brought many emotions alive and really made the audience active members whilst also entertaining them. Chang and Eng and Me Chang and Eng and Me was a well devised abstract performance that investigated many ideas of what theatre is and can be, one moment i vividly remember is the touching and sculpting of clay, which linked to the quote ‘I can count the times i’ve feared for my safety of my ethnicity on one, maybe two hands’, whilst quoting this the use of hands and pressure into the clay almost represented society and the anger ethnic individuals have towards society, yet feel stuck and trapped just like clay itself, for me this was a visual metaphor which was used so emotively/discreetly. The digital performance was not like many i have watched before and used the online platform to create liveness, what i also think worked well was the discussion of sexuality/race and the bareness that came with the performance, by getting changed infront of the camera and showing vulnerability just like many homosexual individuals feel scared about doing, it almost connoted that you should love yourself for who you are. I also picked up on the focus of puppetry and how these items can speak to audiences meaningfully, the focus of this performance was very creative and artistic with the use of drawing and sculpting e.g it painted a story without having to physically say anything. ShakesQueer. Tom Marshman. (2021). [Online, 27th February]. -Sherlock in Homes: Murder on Ice. (2021). Sharp Teeth Theatre. Directed by: Stephine Kempson. [Online, 4th March] Chang and Eng and Me: Wattle and Daub Figure theatre (2021) (online, 14th May) Evaluation following the performance Originally i developed the idea of an online meat auction, which we all as group discussed and put forward different ideas for, this was to symbolise that the victims are treated as meat and can be sent off globally, with this idea we explored breakout groups however the concept became too complex and we had a creative block for the middle section, therefore instead of still continuing with the idea we explored other ideas and researched into physical theatre. The research we found within sex trafficking and physical theatre inspired us to make the performance about physicality, the bareness of victims and how they are invisible, feedback from Laura helped us understand that if we was to approach the performance by making the audience feel to uncomfortable and shocked, it would make them less likely to keep watching, so after we had fully developed our script we decided to make a lot of the dialogue upbeat so that it would juxtapose with the speech itself. As a group we all worked very hard and put in a lot of time and effort, me and iona were the main editors for our flip grids and material for the piece, my strengths within this performance was to motivate and make sure everyone was always there, thinking of the slight movements and moments needed within the piece, charlotte and myself became the creative directors for the physical theatre (chair duets), personally i naturally take on a directing role, however we all equally put in ideas and bounced off eachother, and was definitely my favourite group to work with so far, my weaknesses are that i can be overwhelming with ideas, but the group helped turn these ideas into what became our performance. If we were to change our performance I would definitely like to explore some type of breakout room, however research and extra technical help would definitely be needed to make it successful and easy to follow. We were put off by making it too physical as our research from Berkoff shows that background movement can be more symbolic than up close and personal physicality. For me this year of online theatre making has changed my outlook on acting and theatre, we have managed to create an appropriate, well thought out/rehearsed performance about a topic that does not get spoken about enough, whilst also including all the dramaturgical elements i have learnt and explored this year, what i learnt mostly from devising 10,000 cases was that audience like repetition and difference, so by using the catwalks as a motif it allowed the audience to take in what was being said without even saying anything, and the repetition was the continuing of monologues with the pillow cases over our heads, and we used these to lose our identity and make the audience really listen to what was being said. I learnt a lot of elements in our rehearsal time and in class sessions. This year has definitely made me open to creating online pieces and understanding that theatre can be anything that you make it. Bibliography Cantrell (2013) Acting in documentary theatre. Acting Psychological aspects.; Acting; Experimental theater. Available at: https://www.vlebooks.com/Vleweb/Product/Index/680079?page=0 Mumey, Audrey; Sardana, Srishti; Richardson-Vejlgaard, Randall; Akinsulure-Smith, Adeyinka M (2021) Mental health needs of sex trafficking survivors in New York City: Reflections on exploitation, coping, and recovery. Available at: https://library.bathspa.ac.uk/items/eds/pdh/2020-79438-001?resultsUri=https%3A%2F%2Flibrary.bathspa.ac.uk%2Fitems%3Fquery%3Dsex%2Btrafficking%26checkbox%3Deverything%26facet%255B0%255D%3DEdsRecordOptions%253A%2522IsFullText%2522%26target%3Deds#availability Morgie BTECH acting ( 2015) Steven Berkoff’s techniques. Available at: http://morgiebtecacting.weebly.com/epq-extended-project-qualification/steven-berkoffs-techniques Graham, Scott, 1971- author; Hoggett, Steven, 1971- author (2014) The Frantic Assembly book of devising theatre. Improvisation (Acting); Frantic Assembly (Group); Theatrical companies Great Britain.; Experimental theater Great Britain. Available at: library.bathspa.ac.uk/items/eds/cat06393a/bath.106158?resultsUri=https%3A%2F%2Flibrary.bathspa.ac.uk%2Fitems%3Fquery%3Dfrantic%2Bassembly%26checkbox%3Deverything%26facet%255B0%255D%3DEdsRecordOptions%253AIsFullText%26target%3Deds#availability Wikipedia (2021) Documentary theatre. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Documentary_theatre#:~:text=Documentary%20theatre%20is%20theatre%20that,altering%20the%20text%20in%20performance. Wikipedia (2020) Human trafficking in the united kingdom. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Human_trafficking_in_the_United_Kingdom

Mariano Di Vaio, ‘people need influencers’

As a child he dreamed of becoming a motorcycle rider, today Forbes nominates him among the most influential men under 30. We met Mariano Di Vaio at the launch of his first fashion collection Let’s start with the numbers. Mariano Di Vaio was born on May 9, 1989, in Assisi. At 18 he moved to London, then to New York where he worked as a testimonial and ambassador, in 2011 he returned to Italy where he began to gain international fame working for major fashion houses. In 2012 he opened a website that deals with fashion and cinema, success is immediate, Mariano opens a profile on Instagram that now has over 11 million followers, second in Italy only to Chiara Ferragni (12.8 million). Top influencer, entrepreneur and creative director Di Vaio has a line of jewelry, a collection of eyewear and leather goods, an e-commerce that sells the biggest names in fashion, billing several million euros a year. In March 2018 Forbes nominates him as one of the under 30 most influential Italian men in the world. Married, he has a son, and another baby coming. GQ met him in Milan, on the occasion of the presentation of his first clothing collection, discovering that the boy has his feet on the ground, and that beyond the numbers there is more. What did you dream of becoming a child? (laughs out of taste) “A motorcycle rider. I’ve always been a big fan of Valentino Rossi, I consider him my sporting idol of all time, and I’m still a fan of motorbikes, I make cross bikes, street bikes, let’s say that was the dream. Then…”. Then what happened? “I traveled a lot, first in England then in New York, there I had a Chinese friend who lived with me, who was fixed with internet, reviewed all the sites reading the various reviews to find the best restaurant for Chinese cuisine at cheap prices , or the most convenient apartment that would have saved us, at the time we were traveling a lot. I knew only MySpace and Facebook, and seeing him I got the idea: I told myself I open a blog of cinema and fashion. From there everything was born, I had opened a page on FB dedicated to the blog and I edited the photos that I published with Istagram. Initially for me Instagram was just a means of filtering the photos I was doing for my blog. Only later did I discover that there were so many people using Instagram, because the number of people who followed my profile began to grow “. Have you always had a passion for fashion? “I’ve always had it. Although as a boy he was more skater, which is still the one that represents me best, I feel very urban as a spirit. I started working in fashion since I was 17, I had a long blond hair, a long slug and often they called me, even in Umbria, for small jobs. I started working for Wella, and from there slowly I realized that it was an easy way to make some money, when I went to London the first thing I looked for was a fashion agency to better pay my rent. Over time I became passionate, it gave me pleasure to see the work of stylists “. And then the money came and you made a lot of money. “I made a lot of them (laughs). I never imagined being able to earn so much money in my life, if I had asked 5 years ago I would not have bet even a euro. But I’m very careful about the expenses I make, I’m very careful both in large and small expenses, I study a lot of things I do, I never asked for a loan and I always invested everything in my companies that today are two. Even today I am free from banks, from loans and this I understood to be a positive thing, and I am happy because I have always invested in the structures, in the guys who work with me, and who are the soul of the company, above all because there are no I full-time commitment to look for the right people who can fill my gaps. Because I realize that I have several limitations: I have never studied economics, I have never studied fashion, I did not do IED or schools like that, so I always looked for competent people who could better interpret my ideas “. A whim you will be taken away … “Lots. But in reality I am a very down to earth, for me the biggest whim was being able to bring on vacation all my family: go to my father and say “I’ll take you there on vacation” that was the most beautiful satisfaction . Beyond a car or a watch that you can buy, that was the greatest joy. It will also be because I grew up appreciating the little things, my father gave us pocket money only if I cut the lawn of the house for example … ” The phenomenon of influencers as you see it? Are there too many? Today we are talking a lot about micro influencers. Do you condone an impruder? “The other day, during my speech at the Cattolica, a group of young people asked me if it bothered me that they call me influencer .. The truth is that I’m an entrepreneur, an influencer, and a fashion blogger. I do not like labels, but let’s say it does not make me ashamed to call me one way rather than another. In life I love doing many things, as in sports, I do not have a favorite, but I do a lot. Ditto at work. It is not said that those who do more things at the same time should do them harm. I think that the role of the influencer is a bit like all things related to the law of supply and demand: if there are so many people who also follow these smaller profiles on social media it means that people need it: people like to follow these people from which it takes inspiration, motivate you, give you the desire to do, and it is also right to diversify, choosing to follow even those who maybe has 30 thousand followers but has something that can communicate “. How long will the influencers last? “I always said they would not last long. I thought they would have died long before, and I was wrong, today to see how things are, it did not go as I imagined. The platforms continue to evolve, Instagram 4 years ago was just square photos, then they became horizontal photos, then square and horizontal, then video of 12, then 30, then 60 seconds, and there you put in motion many creative people. Now it’s the boom of these guys who make the comedy videos because they entertain, in the end it’s a matter of entertainment, who is better at making good entertainment content, the more successful you have, the more you make, the more you share. As long as people need it there will be, obviously there is a need, people will like to follow people, like me to taste follow other people, get inspired, motivate by people who are successful, do things, taste me “. By the way, what did Chiara Ferragni teach you? “One of the people who inspired me most was Riccardo Pozzoli, for him I have a great esteem. I think he was a forerunner in what he did, he saw us really long. The merit of creating this world is due to him, and I learned a lot from him, also because I was lucky enough to become his friend, we have many passions in common: the bikes! Chiara has always struck me for her safety, for her self-awareness. He was not afraid of being judged, especially at the beginning, when there was however a lot of criticality around the world of fashion bloggers “. Well still today it’s a bit like that … “True, even today it is so but it is a bit ‘different, I always say: I’m not a journalist, I’m not a stylist, I talk about what I like, people follow me because I’m obviously nice, he likes the way I say, then over time I learned, I studied, I stuck on certain things that I wanted to learn, today I say that I am a creative, I have people with me who draw, I have ideas that the guys with me interpret. But Chiara has always struck me for that serenity, I have always been calm and proud of me but she is even more so. From that point of view I esteemed it a lot “. And then your first fashion collection has arrived. How was born “I created Nohow three years ago that is an e-commerce that is having a lot of success and in which I enjoyed doing everything: from the shirt ripped to the bag, to the splattered jeans, to make even pieces that I did not fully represent But I knew people were wearing them. Then a year and a half ago I had the idea to do something of mine, that is, to make pieces that I would put myself from the first to the last. I wanted to do it better, but then I did not even have the economic strength, it was not yet time. Then that moment arrived, everything was aligned, even my communication character, I could not continue doing things that people would perceive as not mine. So it was a natural evolution, I got married, I became a father, I built a more adult image, I feel less kid, less ironic than before, I did things that now I do not anymore. And then I realized it was the right time to do it. I started to get interested in the various companies, look for fabrics, find tailors, shirt makers, inform me about the fit of jackets, trousers, cuts, types of seams and then I said ok, I want to do these things. And in two months I made my collection, of which I am fully satisfied “. How would you tell it? “It’s a collection of mine, 100% Italian, classic but downplayed because what I wanted to do, that I realized is not there, is a classic played down with a smile. So I made super classic clothes with the pants with the super low crotch, exaggerated pince, my tester was my father and my grandfather, I asked them for an opinion. The inspiration is in fact twenty / thirty years: I made the coppoline in linen, the gilet with reinvented cuts and with sophisticated buttons, the jackets with side slits. How much does a dress cost? “We are under a thousand euros for a dress, in this summer collection. For the winter I think the price will rise because we will use the finest materials “. Where will you sell it? “For now only online, how I was born. Let’s see how it will go ” How do you see yourself in twenty years? “Surfing in Hawaii? (Laughs) Eh I do not know. I see myself in Perugia, in the countryside, with my family, my children. I decided to stay in Umbria because I like the lifestyle, I live well, I’m trying to stay there. Let’s see what will be “.                                                                                                                                                                  ...

The post Mariano Di Vaio, ‘people need influencers’ appeared first on Alexander Simon Martinez.

from WordPress https://ift.tt/2kutHKl via IFTTT

Immigrant Teens Say They're Being Forcibly Drugged in US Custody

"When I get mad they give me shots."

In October 2019, a teenage boy crossed the U.S. border into Arizona alone, fleeing for his life after being assaulted and threatened by gang members in Mexico. He’d hoped to find safety in the U.S, but instead, according to court filings, he ended up at a Texas children’s hospital where he’s been heavily sedated and forcibly injected multiple times over the past six months.

When an attorney visited the 16-year-old in November, she described him as having “a glazed over, vacant expression much of the time.” He told her he’d been taking around 20 pills per day.

“I want to leave because when I get mad they give me shots,” said the boy, whose name is redacted in the public court filings. “I think the last time was about a month ago. When they give me a shot, it makes me feel sad. And then I will sleep for a day. When I wake up after, I feel desperate. My body feels desperate.” 

In the last months of the Trump administration, other immigrant youth in government custody have been drugged and isolated for long periods, according to court records. The documents describe children languishing for months, including a young “nonverbal” girl who was separated from her father at the border over a year ago and is now unable to directly communicate with her family in Guatemala.

The shocking descriptions, which have not previously been reported, were filed as part of a long-running lawsuit against the federal government over its treatment of “unaccompanied minors,” children who arrive at the border alone, often fleeing violence or abuse in Central America. Lawyers in the case say six such kids in the custody of the Office of Refugee Resettlement (ORR) were held indefinitely at Nexus Children’s Hospital in Houston, with at least three placed on “excessive medication.” 

Leecia Welch, an attorney with the National Center for Youth Law, visited Nexus on Nov. 13 and initially found it to be “a typical medical facility” for children, with brightly colored hallways and an outdoor play area, according to a declaration she filed in federal court. But when she began speaking with three kids in the behavioral health wing at Nexus, Welch noticed they appeared to be groggy and dazed. 

Welch, who noted that she has interviewed “hundreds of children in government custody,” including in psychiatric hospitals, said the 16-year-old told her he had trouble sleeping, a problem he never had in Mexico and attributed to his heavy medications. He described spending hours alone in his room watching TV, and leaving for therapy, meals, and activities, but never school. 

“I do not have school here,” he said. “I have not had any school at Nexus the entire time I have been here.”

Know anything about conditions in migrant detention centers? Email [email protected] or [email protected].

It was a stark contrast to the shelter in Arizona where the boy had first been housed in the U.S., which he said allowed a trip to the museum and more time outdoors. Then, in January 2020, he described being awoken at 3 a.m. and told to pack his things. He was sent to a more restrictive facility in Washington state, which he said did not allow him outside. His next stop was Nexus, where he said staff had also placed him in physical restraints.

“When I get angry, I know how to calm myself,” he said. “They use physical restraints when I get angry but that makes me angrier. But it’s been a month that I haven’t been angry. I am doing better. I was told I would leave soon.”

A fifteen-year-old that Welch interviewed “appeared to be so overmedicated he could barely talk or maintain eye contact” during their 20-minute conversation. The boy’s speech was slurred, and he mostly “lay in bed drooling and staring blankly at his TV,” Welch wrote. “He did look at me intensely for one brief moment and asked when he could go home.”

A spokesperson for the Department Health and Human Services’ Administration for Children and Families, which oversees ORR, declined to comment, citing ongoing litigation.

A spokesperson for Nexus Health Systems, which runs Nexus Children’s Hospital, gave a statement saying the company “has provided superior medical care to children for over 20 years.”

 “Although due to healthcare privacy constraints we cannot comment on the care of specific patients, we stand by our clinicians’ decision-making and our associated clinical policies and procedures,” the statement said. “Nexus’ focus in every case is—and will remain—the well-being of our patients.”

As part of a 1997 court settlement known as the Flores agreement, federal authorities are supposed to transfer unaccompanied minors from Border Patrol custody to a state-licensed childcare facility within 72 hours, or release them to a relative or sponsor living in the U.S. But in some instances, these children require more intensive care than a typical group home or shelter can provide due to medical or behavioral issues. 

Nexus describes itself on its website as “a child’s home away from home during recovery from complex medical issues,” including those with behavioral problems “who may have been unsuccessful in traditional rehabilitation environments.” According to court filings, Nexus is an “out-of-network facility” that contracts with ORR to care for immigrant youth until they can be sent elsewhere, such as a foster home in the U.S., a group home with a less-intensive level of care, or back to their home country on a deportation flight.

Intensive hospital stays are supposed to be brief—usually only a few days until the child is stabilized and can return to a more normal setting. But four of the six kids that Welch found at Nexus had been there for longer than six months.

She described meeting a 15-year-old girl who’d been sent to Nexus “due to her weight, diabetes, and issues with her knees.” The girl said she’d been at the hospital for seven months and was still being held there even after meeting a weight loss goal set by a doctor, which she was told would allow her to leave. The girl said she preferred the freezing-cold Border Patrol “hielera” holding cell where she was first detained after crossing the border.

“I liked the hielera better than here because of how they treat people here,” the girl said. “It’s not well. They don’t treat people well. They try to be rude to me, but I don’t let them get away with it. They are not nice to the other kids.”

The mother of a fourth immigrant child held at Nexus, described by Welch as a 2-year-old with “very serious medical needs,” declined to speak with the attorney. As Welch prepared to leave the Houston facility, she said staff mentioned they had a fifth patient who came from federal government custody and had been there “a very long time.” 

Welch described being led to a section of the hospital for kids with more intensive physical health needs and entering a room to find “a small child with perfectly coiffed pigtails under a pink Minnie Mouse blanket.” The girl, Welch said, “was connected to machines and was unable to move or establish eye contact.” 

The girl appeared to be well cared for, but Welch later learned she had been separated from her father in August 2019 after they crossed the border together. Her father, Welch said, “was deported before his daughter was in a position to safely return to home country with him; they remain separated and without any direct contact.”

Welch noted that, “although this child has now lived far longer than her predicted life expectancy, her long-term prognosis remains poor, and without swift intervention, she and her father may never see one another again.”

Welch declined to be interviewed, citing the pending litigation, but said the government needs to do a better job of monitoring and tracking the care that children receive. 

“We just don't know how many other children are going into hospital settings and having these things happen,” Welch said. “Even if ORR wanted to, they couldn't go online and tell you, ‘This many kids have been forcibly injected over the last six months.’ They just don't have the data; I find it horrifying. It's just a black box.”

Robert Carey, who led ORR under the Obama administration, said he could not recall any incidents during his tenure where immigrant youth were subjected to forced injections. Carey said such measures would only be appropriate as a last resort in cases where children had “severe mental health needs.”

“At minimum, an investigation would be conducted to determine if in fact that was happening and, if so, why, and what oversight was being conducted or in place by ORR staff,” Carey said.

Carey said he expects the incoming Biden administration to overhaul ORR, which falls under the umbrella of the Department of Health and Human Services. Under Trump, the agency has been involved in multiple scandals, including the failure to reunite families that were separated at the border under the so-called “zero tolerance” policy.

“Children have been poorly treated, obviously. Laws and standards appear to have been violated. It’s not good.”

“It’s been politicized,” Carey said. “Children have been poorly treated, obviously. Laws and standards appear to have been violated. It’s not good.”

The Nexus allegations aren’t the first time the Trump administration has been accused of providing questionable medical treatment to immigrant youth. In April 2018, plaintiffs in the Flores case filed court documents describing how multiple children at Shiloh Treatment Center near Houston were held down and injected with psychotropic medications. In one incident, a girl claimed a Shiloh staff member threw her against a wall and choked her until she fainted. 

Shiloh issued a statement in 2018 denying any wrongdoing and maintaining that children at the facility “have been found to be properly cared for and treated.” The judge overseeing the Flores case ordered the government to abide by Texas laws on the  administration of drugs to minors, and to remove them from Shiloh unless they pose “a risk of harm to self or others,” a determination to be made by a licensed psychologist or psychiatrist.

Scott Lloyd, a former ORR director under Trump, told VICE News that forcibly medicating minors can be justified in cases where they have severe mental health issues and may be behaving aggressively. He emphasized that staffers, operating in deeply difficult situations, typically have the best interests of children at heart.

“As bad as it sounds, when you get down into the details of it, it’s actually something that you see happening every day in families,” said Lloyd, who was first thrust into the spotlight after he personally refused to let detained immigrant girls undergo abortions, spurring an ACLU lawsuit. “Even when it’s antibiotics, sometimes kids just don’t want to take drugs, but that’s just what they need at the moment. And on top of that, you have teenagers who just don’t want to do anything that you tell them to do because they’re teenagers.”

A 2018 report by Reveal from the Center for Investigative Reporting found that housing and supervising immigrant children for the federal government is big business, with $3.4 billion paid out to 71 companies, including Shiloh, over a four-year period. Nearly half of that money went to homes with serious allegations of mistreating children, Reveal found, including shelters accused of neglect and sexual and physical abuse.

Beyond the Flores case, forced injections have been a point of litigation in a separate class-action lawsuit filed on behalf of immigrant youth held in “highly restrictive psychiatric facilities” and jail-like “secure” detention centers. The suit claims kids end up trapped in such places for months or years, with no hearings or protections to provide a path out.

“I felt like I had no one to help me and no option but to take the daily medication,” said one child quoted in court records. In that case, staff at Shiloh would allegedly “force the child’s mouth open if they tried to refuse to take the medication.” Others were given forced injections. 

“Two staff grabbed me, and the doctor gave me an injection despite my objection and left me there on the bed,” one child said, according to court filings.

Since March 21, the Trump administration has turned away thousands of unaccompanied minors on the grounds that they present “a serious danger of the further introduction of COVID-19” into the U.S. Under an order signed by Trump, at least 8,300 children who traversed the border alone have been detained by the Border Patrol and sent back to Mexico or their home countries, according to CBP data provided to lawyers in the Flores case.

The same bunch of Nov. 23 court filings that detail the situation at Nexus also describe grim conditions at a Border Patrol outpost in Weslaco, Texas. A lawyer in the Flores case visiting to monitor conditions found an 8-year-old boy from Guatemala who said he’d been separated from his mother for two days. They crossed the border together, he said, but she was sick and could barely walk. The boy saw his mother loaded onto an ambulance, while he ended up as the only child on a bus full of adults headed for a Border Patrol station, where he’d been waiting for her since.

“I am alone in my room,” the boy said. “I do not know why I am alone. It makes me feel abandoned. I feel very alone. I have been completely alone for an entire day. I am sleeping on a cushion that is on the floor. I do not have a pillow, but I do have a thin silver nylon blanket. I use my coat as a pillow. I am the only one in the room when I sleep. It is very cold. It is always very cold.”

Asked about the court filings, Tom Gresback, a spokesperson for U.S. Customs and Border Protection in the Rio Grande Valley, said: “As a matter of policy, CBP does not comment on pending litigation. Lack of comment should not be construed as agreement or stipulation with any of the allegations.” 

In September alone, according to CBP data referenced in court filings, at least 36 kids were held in Border Patrol stations for more than three days, including 16 for over five days. Among them were a 6-month-old infant (held 13 days), a 5-month-old infant (15 days), and a 2-month-old infant (16 days). The monitor who visited the Weslaco station said children reported being housed in cells with 16-20 others, with no social distancing, soap, or hand sanitizer.

“Many children reported that they were very cold,” wrote the monitor, Denise A. Rosales. “During an interview, one child commented on how nice the sun was. She said she had not seen the sun in over two days.”

In a Dec. 4 court hearing in the Flores case, attorneys for immigrant youth and the government said they are close to finalizing a settlement agreement that could lead to “steps forward” on conditions for unaccompanied minors detained at the border. 

The issues of forced injections and lengthy stays in restrictive psychiatric or jail-like settings are being litigated in a separate case, with a trial currently set for March. In the meantime, the 16-year-old who’d been forcibly injected still remains at Nexus.

The teen said he hopes to leave the hospital soon. He has plans for his life.    

“I will be happy when they give me the good news that I'm leaving this place,” the boy said. “My dream is to be a firefighter. It's my dream to help people.”

Article Source

P R E S S U R E { 7 }

;series;

masterlist

{Part 1} {Part 6}

Pairing: Reader X Yoongi

Word Count: 6,074

Genre: Romance, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: After dating for almost 3 years, the armys and Yoongi’s label have found out about your relationship. Now you have to deal with it in your extraordinarily normal life.

I was in complete euphoria as I drove us out of New York state. It was such a spur of the moment thing and I know that Yoongi was like me when it came to the stuff. Everything needs planning and some kind of schedule, but I guess he had one in this situation. I was in complete awe that he had thrown this together without telling me, but I also couldn’t believe that he didn’t tell me. He knew how I was when it came to this stuff, but maybe he wanted to push me a bit out of my comfort zone.

I quite liked driving honestly. When I’d first learned, I was terrified. Then I slowly began to realize how calming it was. When people would complain about driving alone, I never quite understood it. I liked just focusing on something with my music playing in the background. I liked feeling free, in some odd way.

It wasn’t until the third hour of driving when we were stuck in New Jersey rush hour that it hit me what I was about to do. Drive to Florida? Yoongi couldn’t fucking drive. Yes, I loved Road Trips, but holy shit was I in for a long one. There was a moment of spite towards him, but I quickly withdrew it when I thought about what he could possibly have waiting for us when we got there. “Are we driving through the night or stopping?”

He laughed and in the bumper to bumper traffic I let myself turn to him.  “We both know you can’t push yourself like that.” He extended his hand to my shoulder and began to rub it. I sank into my seat and attempted to crack my back while he kept his hand there. “You’re not tired yet, are you baby?”

“I’m not tired, I’m just thinking.” I returned, moving my foot between the gas and break every few seconds. I sighed. “Do we have a date we have to be there by?” I asked.

“Well, the reservation is for tomorrow because I thought we would leave after we got back from the city-” he chuckled, “But shit happens, right? I can always call them up and tell them I’ll be there the day after next.”

I shook my head and changed the song that had just come on with the controls on the steering wheel. “I can drive til probably one of the Carolina’s before I crash. Not literally crash-” he was laughing at me now. “But like- figuratively. We can make it there by tomorrow if I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“So, it’ll be a while then?” Without hesitation I flung my arm towards his chest with my fist curled up. I knew it didn’t hurt, but he pretended it did anyways. “I have so many jokes I want to make…” I rolled my eyes.

“After we get out of this traffic, we’re stopping.” I stated and he just laughed at me.

He was probably going to make a joke about the party from last night and I could truly only guess which one he was gonna go for. It was probably going to be “This is why you didn’t win that fight last night” and then excessively apologize. Yoongi had recently been attempting to bite his tongue over things he knew that he was gonna regret. At least with me. With everyone else he was still the same blunt dickhead who disregarded everyone's feelings a good amount of the time for the truth. So, now he was just avoiding whatever the outcome was by not even saying it.

After about an hour the traffic finally cleared up and  we were in Pennsylvania now. The airy atmosphere was kind of soothing, but it was quickly ruined by Yoongi’s complaining that he now had to pee. I hadn’t been able to get to the right line for the last rest stop and there hadn’t been one for about 70 miles now which meant almost another hour with no break or bathroom. I wasn’t about to pull over for him, teasing him like this was kind of funny.

“That one’s a stop! Please god let me go pee in Panera Bread!” Yoongi was almost screaming about this now and I was basically hysterical laughing over the fact.

“Yeah, yeah. Chill out.” I changed lanes as we got closer to the exit. “Have you eaten Panera before? I don’t think I’ve ever forced you to go. The rest stop Panera's are even better than mine and that's saying something. Their mac and cheese and grilled cheese- Yoongi I could die.”

“Don’t say that when I’m on my death beds, thanks Y/N.” he laughed at himself but not too hard. There was totally a chance he would piss his pants if he did. “Selfish, selfish.” he teased me.

The sun was almost all the way down as we got out of the car and he ran inside as I walked. It was funny watching him run at his full speed, which was pretty fast. He was a pretty serious guy in public but you could easily tell even as a strange my boyfriend was dying right now. I couldn’t help but to stretch as I walked inside and got online. We hadn’t eaten in hours and I knew he was hungry even if he hadn’t mentioned it. We’d probably end up getting food later too, so I was just gonna get what I normally got for both of us.

I probably appeared super disheveled at the current moment, but I didn’t care too much. I had about 4 or 5 more hours of driving til I could sleep and my appearance during it was the least of my worries. “Hey, can I get 2 half and halfs, both mac and cheese and grilled cheese. Also, two drinks?” The girl behind the counter who looked like she hated her life nodded without even glancing up at me. She told me the total right before I paid and gave me a buzzer to wait with.

I made my way towards the bathrooms and almost in sync Yoongi appeared with the biggest smile on his face. “I’ll stop complaining now.” he spoke as he hugged me for a moment and kissed the top of my head. “Is the food really that good? Did ya’ get it?” I nodded. “Are we eating here or going?”

“I can eat while I drive.”

“Didn’t get you get mac and cheese?” he furrowed his eyebrows down in my direction as he pulled away from me and took my hand. “Y/N, that sounds like an utter disaster.”

“I can handle it. I’ve done it before, Yoongi. Worst comes to worst, you can feed me.” I guess I’d said his name a little too loudly because suddenly the cashier that had previously helped me’s face shot up at the mention.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed and I could physically see his body tense for a moment. “Min Yoongi!” Within a moments notice she abandoned her job and was making her way over to him. “And Y/N! I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you by your voice, you sweet cinnamon angel!” Cinnamon angel? What? Oh come on.

I scanned the rest of the place to make sure nobody else was coming over or anything. It wasn’t busy at all and it was a bit strange that we’d managed to walk into the one place where we were recognized, but I couldn’t help except to laugh. The girl walked over towards us with extended arms facing me first and as awkward as I was, I hugged her. I could feel Yoongi’s eyes on the back of my head as this girl almost began crying before pulling away and going towards him. He didn’t sigh out loud, but I knew he wanted to. He loved seeing armys, but I was guessing there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“C-Can I get a picture?” she asked and my instinct was to say yes. Before I could Yoongi started.

“I- I don’t think we can- it’s a safety hazard to give away our location.” he was very straightforward about it, but I knew he felt bad.

“I won’t post it for like a few days! Or tomorrow! And this is a rest stop, you guys will be far gone by that time!” I gave Yoongi puppy dog eyes and he sighed aloud this time. “You’ll do it?!” she had noticed the exchange between us and was absolutely delighted. “Yay! Jay!” One of her coworkers ran out from behind the counter as she yelled. Can you take a picture of the 3 of us?”

She stood in between us and I smiled real big while Yoongi had one of his famous smirks on. “You’re such a little asshole.” I whispered to him as we walked out to the car. She showered us in thank yous until we left the building and it got my face all red. “You couldn’t even smile?”

“You know I’m not really allowed to even take those kinds of pictures.” he sighed as I unlocked the car. Before I got in I watched him debate getting in the back to sleep or the passenger's side to keep me company. He must’ve known if he got in the back we’d be staying at this rest stop until he moved, so he skipped that step all together.

“Oh, I know. It sucks having such cute pictures with you and not being allowed to ever post them really.” I pouted as I turned the key and pulled out of the lot towards the highway.

“You have that one from the concert of us all up there now.”

“Yeah, but that’s not one of our cute pictures. Min Yoongi we take the cutest pictures ever and they’re all trapped in my google photos.”

“Well, I’m gonna make sure you can post some cute Disney pictures of yourself and even maybe one with me in it by the time we leave. Fuck everyone else.” he laughed and then stopped himself upon realizing what he was saying. Yeah, he could pretend to have all the control he wanted, but in the end everything was papers and pens.

“You say fuck everyone else as if you’d give up your career for me.” I began to laugh at my small joke, but the air in the car got a bit stiffer. He uncomfortably shifted positions in his seat and I knew he was looking out onto the open road instead of me now.

“You know I would.” his voice was hoarse and I knew he didn’t want me to hear that, so I didn’t respond.

I never liked to compare myself to his career in any way. I didn’t even put myself and him being an idol as two comparable things. Back when we had first been put out there as a couple and I was forced to do interviews, a question that always repeated was “Do you think he loves you or being an idol more?” It was quite a strange one, but sadly a fan favorite. My response was always basically the same.

I’d always give some big speech. “I don’t even put myself and Bangtan in the same tier system. His personal life and Bangtan are two separate things going on. Obviously, they’re both important to him or we wouldn’t be here today, but in now way am I comparable to BTS. His love for both things that shouldn’t even be spoken about together in my opinion. I should have no effect on his career.” Obviously there were variations of it, but the gist was always the same.

“Hey, put on some good music or something. Fuck this radio shit. Perk up, Yoongs.” I blindly extended a hand to find his face and pinched at his cheeks. When I felt his face relax, I pulled away from him.

“Stop pinching me, grandma.” he teased as he paired his phone to the bluetooth and flicked through songs on his playlist. “I’m gonna get wrinkles or something from it then we’ll be fucked.”

“You’re calling me grandma? You’re the walking embodiment of an 85 year old.” I retaliated. “If you get wrinkles, your fans will think they’re cute. You probably already have some from worrying so much.”

“You’d be the first one to know with the amount you stare at my face.” he put on some classic Eminem. The songs I’d be able to yell the lyrics to with him.

“Dude, you’re cute as hell. I don’t know what you expect.” I smirked and could feel a bit of blush coloring my cheeks. I don’t know how but my own boyfriend somehow made me embarrassed of complimenting him. Half the world did it, why couldn’t I? Oh yeah, my weird pride thing.

“You’re so adorable.” He reached out and booped my nose? He’d never really done that, but I kind of liked it.

We were in South Carolina now. We were going to stop in North Carolina, but I decided to keep going because I wanted to feel more proud of myself for driving further. So, we were a little bit over the border now. Just south of the border, actually. A few minutes ago we were arguing about whether to stay in a motel or hotel. I’d said we could just stay in some cheap place and Yoongi was refusing.

He said that he worked hard enough to sleep in a bed that wasn’t stuffed with newspaper every night and I responded that he was already spending so much money on this vacation. Then on top of the argument of where we were gonna stay was the money one that always came up. His ability to buy a pair of sunglasses that cost 400 dollars compared to my frugal ass that thought 30 was too much. Our ideals were super different and there was basic proof as to why and we knew this would always be something we’d fight about. We simply couldn’t see eye to eye on this one.

Eventually I gave in. He went on this whole rant on how he wanted everything to be perfect for me and instead of taking a plane he’d opted to drive down to make me happy since driving clears my head. Since I’d been a ball of stress and tears lately. I couldn’t fight with him when he got to that point and he’d taken us to the closest Marriott on his gps.  He didn’t know too many “nice” hotels in America and that was his go to at all times for no good reason.

As soon as the car was parked, I was ready to just fall asleep in my seat with my seatbelt still on. Yoongi undid the seatbelt and leaned over me to open my door. He sent me inside with his wallet as he lazily opened the trunk and our suitcases to pack clothes into. I knew it’d take him a minute so in order to try to stay awake, I power walked inside the gorgeous hotel.

The man at the front desk was half asleep and just kind of sitting there with his head on the desk. As I got closer to the counter he perked up and was on his feet in mere seconds. “Hello there!” his voice was chirpy as if I hadn’t just caught him slacking. “Do you have a reservation?” He kind of seemed bitchey and bored at the same time. Like he was mad someone actually walked in during his shift and was ready to give me a basement to sleep in.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t. Do you have any availability?” I walked up to the counter and leaned against it to support my tired body. The doors that I had just walked through opened again to reveal my lovely thin mint dragged a bag he probably threw clothes for both of us inside of.  

The man at the counter’s facial expression changed when he saw my boyfriend and the only thought in my head was how the fuck did everyone know who this guy was? Well, BTS was gaining popularity and they deserved it. A few months ago we were able to basically go to anywhere and be fine with the noticing thing. Now here we were at 3 in one whole day in 3 different states.

“Of course! I knew I knew your face, you’re Y/N Y/L/N of that band and that’s your boyfriend, Min Yoongi! What a delight in our Mariott!” I gave a fake little smile. “Only for one night?” Nod. “Alright, you two are set up in room 31 C!”

“Let me pay.” My voice came out demanding and this man flung his head in circles to decline my offer. “Please.” He made the same motion again as he handed me the key cards. “I don’t want to get you in trouble-”

“Oh dear, my father’s the manager. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone! Talent deserves a bit of somethin’ from us common folk! Have a great night you two!” When he finished speaking, he sprinted off to the back room and through a shadow on the wall I could faintly see him dancing around.

“Wipe that sour puss off of your face, darling.” Yoongi’s voice was as tired as I felt as he still tried to be a gentleman.

“Oh, I hate this. Why can’t you just wear a facemask all the time?” My face probably looked mushy with dark circles underneath my eyes in the current moment.

“Then how would you get your fix of all this?” he waved his hands around his face and subsequently dropped our bag. I bent over to grab it and almost stopped halfway to take a rest.

“My feet hurt, Yoongs. Carry me.” I was whining at this point.

He squinted his eyes towards me as the elevator got to the lobby and we both creeped inside. The room we were in was the second to top floor and I could only imagine the beautiful view. Of course, I was proven right once we were inside. The countryside was barely lit, but only with the stars in the sky. You didn’t get much of this in overpopulated New York, so a site like this was rare and extremely special.

“You glad you let us stay here now?” Yoongi joked as he changed into a silk set of pajamas to sleep in. I simply shrugged and nodded before going into the bag to find whatever he brought me. I was praying it wasn’t a matching set of pajamas and thankfully he’d brought my sweatpants and a shirt of his that was big on me. I knew once we were in Disney he’d make me match with him. He was all about that corny stuff sometimes, surprisingly. He went all out on that type of stuff.

I quickly changed and lazily went into the bathroom to brush my teeth to catch him walking out. He stopped for a moment to kiss my cheek and his minty stench flew through my nose and it was strong enough to wake me up. But my tiredness overpowered it as a I rushed through my night time ritual to join him in the bed.

I almost forgot about the 9 am alarm I had set until I was rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I wanted to sleep in a bit, but Yoongi insisted on waking up at this time to make sure he got the free breakfast they served here. I banged on his chest a few times until he moved. Instead of waking up, today he pulled me into him during his half awake half asleep time.

“Hey!” I yelled as he stuffed my head into his armpit. I really hope he was just doing this in his sleep on instinct. “Let go of me and get up! I wanna get going and you want food!” My booming voice caused his eyes to flutter open and meet mine from half underneath his arm.

“Ah, shit.” he moved his body to let me free and sat up once I was off of him. “Sorry about that. Good morning.” he shyly smiled and placed a kiss onto my temple. I rolled my eyes but made sure to smile afterwards as I went about getting ready as fast as I could. He did his own separate routine while somehow ran alongside mine and I couldn’t help except to kind of view it was cute.

As soon as he was dressed and ready to go, he was out the door to go get the food he was dying for. I grabbed the bag and my own bag then headed out. Only after I triple checked the room though. We may have not had a lot of stuff, but I just had to make sure. We’d had multiple occasions of having to turn around for a sock or a phone wire or something in the past, but I wanted to get going this time.

I found him downstairs devouring a waffle as his single plate was stacked on. I know he’d complain about it later when he went over his calories for the day at some point, but he’d get over it. I grabbed a few things and sat across from him. Yoongi was so lost in his plate he didn’t acknowledge me for a good minute and a half. “So do you want me to drive the rest of the way?”

I stopped mid bite and looked over to him like I was on The Office. “You?”

“Yeah, I have my license in Korea.”

“I know, you drive when we’re there and I drive here. That’s what we’ve come to terms with.”

He scratched at the back of his hat and pushed his plate towards me to tell me he was done. Just like a child. “I kinda feel bad and it’s only like 7 hours-”

“You don’t have a universal license, Yoongs. You have one there not here. I do appreciate it though.”

“You just look so tired.” His response was so immediate as soon as I finished speaking. He had this shy smile on his way as he cracked his knuckles. Him moticing the small things about me like the bags under my eyes or the way I slurred my words a bit when I got under 6 hours of sleep always made my stomach do flips and my heart flutter a bit. It was kind of lame, but I loved that stuff. “I’ll buy you coffee-”

“Ahh, you used the right word.” I leaned across the table and playfully punched his arm before grabbing both of our plates. He simply smiled an all knowing smile as I walked away from him to dispose of our plates. He’d been stuck on saying Americano whenever he was here and it always got him a bunch of weird looks while he searched his internal dictionary for the right word.

Yoongi grabbed the bag and tugged his hat down a bit before extending his hand for me to take. I did a little jog over so he wouldn’t be waiting for a while and he swung our arms as we walked. That could only mean I was in for a good car ride if he was in a good mood so early in the morning. “I looked it up and we’re about 7 hours away. You excited, baby?” he asked pulling away from me to get into the passenger's seat. I nodded at him once we were both inside and laughed.

I started my car and then we were on the last stretch of the drive in an instant. I’d let Yoongi completely dj this time, but I was ready to kill him when he started playing my own bands music. I didn’t almost crash the car but he was afraid I was going to when I leaned across the seats to hit him until he turned it off. He was hysterical at my reaction and I couldn’t help but to feel even more embarrassed.

The drive flew because I basically refused to stop unless it was for gas. Yoongi had called out such weird stuff and attractions off of the highway and I said no to every single one of them. I knew he was fucking around about most of them but when I told him we couldn't stop to take a picture with a giant hand sculpture, he was extremely upset by it.

As soon as we got into Orlando, he rolled the windows down and the heat almost made me choke. “Please god no.” I groaned as he continued to open up the sunroof as well. I turned the a.c up to the highest volume as he blasted the music. He’d decided to play some old Eminem so I would actually be able to scream out all the words with him. I didn’t really want to draw too much attention to the car, but he was fully decked out in a mask and a hat while I sadly had nothing to kind of hide myself with. Not even makeup.

“And then turn right here.” he was directing me around. Yoongi had turned off the gps volume ages ago due to her voice “annoying him”. So now we were here.

I spotted a sign in the distance and read it out loud. “Polynesian Village Resort… Are we staying here.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d like it the best out of all of them.” Yoongi reached out and rubbed the top of my arm and I just knew he had his cute shy smile on.

It was almost like a gated community as we pulled up to someone to let us in. Yoongi did all the talking and I was so seamlessly impressed by his way with people that I probably looked like an idiot right now. We pulled up to the hotel and another man came up to us to park the car. As soon as we had all of the luggage out, my car was gone and I felt a sad loss about it.

I was in awe and I wasn’t even inside yet. Above us there was a monorail and as much as I wanted to remove the smile on my face, I was happy I was there. The entrance  was surrounded by palm trees, tiki statues, and little waterfalls. I could already feel the picture ideas storming through my brain for later on when we were dressed. The second we stepped through the sliding doors a young woman greeted us and placed lays onto us. “Are you having flashbacks?” I joked, nudging at Yoongi.

I could see a shiver run through his spine as he thought back to Bon Voyage 2 when they went to Hawaii. He had an absolutely amazing vacation, but his tan line for a good while was so fucked up due to him wearing long sleeves the entire time.

The lobby was beautifully decorated and the chandeliers (I think they were called that? Maybe.) hung different colored lights that weren’t as basic as most places. The entire place had such a nice feel to it that I knew Yoongi put every thought into making this vacation amazing for me. Out of all the hotels, he knew I’d enjoy this one the best simply from the vibe it gave off. “Oh, I can’t wait to get dressed and look nice so we can take pictures even just here.” I whispered to Yoongi, barely able to speak through my smile.

“You always look nice.” there was a slight pout in his face for a moment until it turned back into his cocky smile for me having such a good time. “You’re literally wearing sweatpants and a messy bun and I’d fuck you.”

“Well,” I was blushing a bit as my voice got even quieter, “I hope you would.” As we stood in line to check in I leaned up to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth as I knew he wasn’t one for too much pda in unfamiliar places. He smile perked up even more and I knew he was happy. Which made me even happier. Wow, was I lame.

   Yoongi groaned for a moment and then dug around in his pockets only to pull out two wristbands. One was grey and the other was pink, I guessed the latter was for me. I was only proven right as he let go of the handle of the suitcase to put mine onto my wrist and then held his out for me to put onto his.

I found myself keeping my head down as Yoongi checked us in and activated our wristbands. For some reason I found myself being a bit embarrassed of how excited I was. I’d only been to Disney when I was young and didn’t remember a thing about it. I’d been wanting to go back for years, but I never found the money or the time for it and Yoongi knew that.

Once everything was taken care of I snatched my luggage from Yoongi and stuck out my tongue. Yeah, I knew he wanted to make this “perfect”, but I could easily carry my own things around. I kept my head down to try to save myself looks I’d get from full grown adults about freaking out. I knew it was annoying him as well, but we’d have all the time in the week for me to freak out and hopefully it’d be when I wasn’t a smelly bum who just drove for a day.

We walked past the gated pool and to the dock to go to the Bungalow suite he’d gotten. Min Yoongi really went all fucking out. As soon as we reached the docks, he begged me to close my eyes. Which I did and was basically shaking in fear as he guided me across the dock very slowly.

“Ready?” I heard him open the door for me and he slowly moved me to the doorway. Alright, open.”

My eyes were greeted with a hallway with a beautiful view of the water all the way down it. I completely forgot about my suitcase at the front as my feet took me all the way to the end to marvel at the view. There was a little plunge pool on the deck and wow, was it nice. After a moment I turned back around to look around the inside. We had a little living room area and a kitchen that knowing us, we wouldn’t make too much use of.

“Yoongi?” I called out as I walked back to the entrance. He poked his head out of a door to my right and I guessed it was the bedroom. He was sitting on the bed, taking a moment to just simple breathe. I almost completely attacked him as I jumped onto him and placed small kisses around his face. His arms found their way around me and his deep breathes had a little jolt in them. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

His lips found their way to mine and he was gentle. He couldn’t control his smiling in the moments and broke the kiss because of it. “Seeing you happy is all the thank you that I need, vomit girl.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes, pushing my hands to the bed on the side of him to push myself off. “Here I was.” I started my lament as I stood up again, “Ready to fuck you right here for all of this, right? But there you go calling me vomit girl and ruining whatever sexual motive I had.”

He simply laughed and stood up, putting his arms around me as he stood behind me yet again. “Yeah, sorry about that.” he placed a small kiss on my neck and then brought his head to the top of mine. “Go shower, then get dressed. There’s a nice dinner here tonight, it’s casual, okay? I’m gonna shower after you, so don’t take forever.”

I walked to the bathroom that was inside of the room and before going in I turned back to him, “Are you gonna wear a Hawaiian shirt?” I could barely contain my laughter as he made a sour face. “Well?”

“We’re both fully aware I couldn’t do that to myself.”

I was alone when I got out of the shower and I was simply confused on where Yoongi could have gone. My voice echoed through the Bungalow and I sighed after I yelled three times without a response. I threw off my towel and scoured around for some clothes, trying to remember what I’d seen in pictures from the dinner we’d be attending later on. It was casual and I still wanted to make sure I looked good.

For some reason the bit of anxiety about being photographed ran through my head. If that happened, it’d be over. We wouldn’t be able to enjoy this vacation the way we wanted and it would just suck.

I pulled out a pair of black jeans and a nice pink tank top with lace on it for a little bit of extraness. I realized I was nowhere near it when Yoongi walked in the front door wearing exactly what I’d asked him to. He was in blue jeans and a red hawaiian shirt with blue flowers and pineapples on it. I held myself from laughing because if I did, I was completely aware he would change on the instant.

I sitting on the ground trying to find shoes in my suitcase and he kicked at me while I looked for sandals within it. When I didn’t pack for myself it sent me into a frenzy trying to figure out what he could have possibly packed for me. I found a pair and Yoongi extended a hand that was decorated with a nice watch to help me up. His other hand had string bracelets on it and he wore this nice beaded necklace and my heart couldn’t help but to flutter.

I lifted myself up and put my arms around his neck before kissing his jaw line. “Do we have to go?” he whispered, lips looking for mine. I smiled at him and nodded before he groaned. “You’re so beautiful.”

I pulled my head back a bit to make eye contact and laughed. “I haven’t even finished getting ready.” I brought my hand to his face and rubbed his smooth skin with my thumb. He smiled before moving it with his own. There was a moment where I just watched his eyes scan over my entire being before he slowly leaned in to kiss me.

It was slow and I intended to keep it that way. From the way his hands began to roam up and down my body, I could tell he wanted to keep going and forget about the night. It was typical Yoongi to spend all of this money on a nice experience and lay inside the hotel the entire time. I knew I’d make it up to him later, but for right now I had to stop this.

I pulled back, catching my breath and Yoongi immediately leaned into the continue before I backed away. “After dinner, Min Yoongi. We’re going to enjoy this dinner and then whatever else.”

He groaned and sat onto the bed, putting his head into his hands. “Why are you doing this to me?” he whined and I just laughed. I left him to complain to himself to go finish getting ready.

As I put on my makeup, I could basically feel his eyes hot on me. Yoongi’s pained gaze watched me as I got ready and he didn’t even have to say how he felt. I could just see him sprawled out on the bed, wishing he didn’t take me to some place with any kind of activity so we could just lay inside all day. Either way, I would’ve been okay, but I was glad he did this. Everything that was set up within my future would probably cause me to have some sort or meltdown or crash.

The pressure of everything seemingly was building up, but lucky I had Min Yoongi to hold my hand and complain with me the entire way.

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long to anyone reading! My personal life is totally stressful right now so I’ve had minimal writing time, but here it is! Hope you enjoyed and I’d totally love some feedback! Thank you!

Next part  →