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its-time-to-write · 6 months

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this is 100% self indulgent. no one asked for this except me and I have zero excuse for how it turned out. i have no defense, no witty rebuttal, no nothing. i wrote this because i wanted to, and at the very least i hope this inspires someone to write their borderline-self-insert fic and post it publicly.

this fic is set after season 3. enjoy😂

(oh now might also be a good time to mention how much I love Man City. bc it’s a lot.)

can’t hear my thoughts (i cannot hear my thoughts)

Calling Lake Como beautiful is like saying space is big. It’s true for sure, but it feels like an understatement. It’s June and the weather is absolutely gorgeous, perfect for the wedding you’re attending. It’s for two good friends of yours, and it’s going to be a party full of football royalty. You’re mostly excited to see friends who are WAGs from other teams who you’ve connected with over the past year and a half.

Oh, and you suppose it will be a nice vacation with Jamie, too.

You’re staying at a beautiful hotel that’s been open since 1910, and you swear you’ll never stay somewhere as beautiful again.

“Getting ideas for the house?” Jamie teases, and it sends a thrill down your spine with the way he refers to his house as your collective home.

You grin as he spins you around the Suite Greta. Everything is golden, from the drapes to the pillows to the sun catching on his face.

“No,” you reply, “but maybe for a vacation home?”

Jamie laughs as he catches you up in his arms. “I could see us here in the next off-season. Not sure we’d get out much,” he muses and you wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go.

You’re here for a full week but Isaac’s wedding is only one day. You and Jamie have plans to see everyone who’s in town, as well as have some time to yourself.

“Sasha wants to go out for dinner tonight,” you tell Jamie as he unpacks his suitcase.

“Girls only, or will Jack be there?”

“Let’s see,” you hum as you scan the group chat. “Isabel said she and Erling will be there, so looks like it’s a couple’s thing. That’ll be fun, right?” you ask with just a hint of anxiety. Jamie and Jack are friends, they’ve run in the same circles for years, but you’re not sure how he’s going to feel about being outnumbered two to one, City to Richmond, at dinner.

“As long as Rodri ain’t there, I’m fucking chuffed,” he says as he lays out his suit on the bed.

“Chuffed? Is that a thing you say now?” you ask, flat on your back on the bed.

“Yep,” he replies. “I’m posh now, babe. Sorry you Americans can’t do it as well as we Brits.”

“I have it on good authority that we do it very well,” you smirk. “But I don’t think that’s something you’ll get to experience tonight. I haven’t seen Sash or Isa in ages, so we’ll probably talk for a long time and then I’ll be tired when we get back to the room.”

Jamie groans. “You’re sadistic, woman. The shit you put me through.”

You smile and remind him, “You’re the one who picked me, remember?”

—

Jamie is technically the one who picked you. You had just moved from America to London, got a temp job at a Richmond FC, and the rest is history. You don’t work at Richmond anymore, haven’t for a while, as you’ve been able to start your own thing in between attending matches and events and whatever else Jamie’s invited to. Being Jamie’s girlfriend is a full-time job on its own, and he definitely spoils you beyond what you’re used to. He’s the one who bought your dress for the wedding and it freaked you out just a little bit until you called Sasha (an angel, by the way) who laughed and talked you off the ledge.

“Comes with the territory, babe. They’re just boys with more money than they know what to do with. Jack’d buy me the moon if he could figure out how. Enjoy it. It’s been a while since anyone’s seen Tartt this happy.”

So you do. You had been living together for almost a year now so you’d think that a dress wouldn’t push you over the edge, but there you go. You’re trying to be calmer about it. It’s better ever since you met Sasha and Isabel.

You had been stuck in a room while Jamie talked to his old manager, and they had noticed your deer-in-the-headlights expression. You’re right in the middle of the two, age-wise, and from similar enough backgrounds.

“Here’s my number. Come over to my flat tomorrow for brunch. We’ll get you settled, babes,” Sasha had said. You went and it had been amazing to finally make real friends, even if they were technically on the opposing team.

You’re excited to see them, excited for Isaac to finally get married, and excited to spend a full seven days with Jamie by your side. It’s going to be the best.

—

You enter the venue arm-in-arm with Jamie, practically dancing across the grass. The sun’s shining and there are all sorts of people you know and love. It feels a little surreal to be here.

Earlier, back in the room, you had slipped into your dress carefully to avoid getting makeup stains on the front. The skirt fell just at your knees and puffed out ever so slightly, with thick straps instead of regular sleeves so you could fully enjoy the warm weather.

“Do a spin,” he had said, voice full of glee. You’d acquiesced, twirling around to let the blue tile print billow out before he caught you, kissing your shoulder so as not to ruin your makeup.

Now, you’re holding onto him and trying not to wrinkle his linen suit when you hear someone shout your name.

“Sasha!” you screech, running toward her as best you can with your shoes on the grass. You squeeze each other into a tight hug, uncaring about about the state of her hot pink dress.

“Hey man,” Jack says to Jamie, who grins and shakes his hand. “You’d think they haven’t seen each other in fucking ages.”

“It’s been twelve hours,” you say. “And before that it’s been like two months. Anyway, don’t you two have some football to discuss or something? Or headbands? Or-”

“Really short socks,” Sasha helpfully supplies.

Jamie shakes his head. “Fuck off, Attwood.”

“Fuck you, Tartt,” she replies.

“Oi, you two wouldn’t even be friends if it weren’t for me. You could be a little nicer,” Jamie says.

“Oh is that Hughes?” Jack asks before either Sasha or Jamie can escalate. Their entire friendship is based off sniping one another and neither you nor Jack are particularly in the mood for it today.

Jamie turns to look. “Oh mint, looks like things are starting. You saved us seats?”

“Yeah, with Haaland and Isabel,” Sasha returns, linking her arm through yours. “C’mon, did you get yourself a parasol?”

—

It’s the most beautiful wedding you’ve ever been to. Stella looks stunning in her gown, Isaac stoically sobs his eyes out while Colin surreptitiously hands him a tissue. Even Roy seems to be having a good time, but then again Keeley once told you that he “really fucking loves weddings.” You hadn’t believed her, but his lips are in a straight line instead of a frown so maybe she was right.

There’s a group of City and Richmond players together, and it’s a little strange to see how friendly they are off the pitch. Dani is explaining something with lots of hand gestures to Phil while the rest of the group jokes around.

Sasha sneaked you and Isabel away to get drinks for yourselves and you were about to get away unnoticed when Erling caught Isabel’s arm and asked for a drink too, so now you’re ordering for your boyfriends as well as yourselves.

You don’t really care, there’s a part of you that’s reveling in the sheer joy of being young and hot. Sue you.

“Cosmo, please,” you say while the girls order drinks of their own. Sasha raises an eyebrow so you shrug and say, “Jamie likes what he likes.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs “Tartt,” but it’s with the affection of an older sister so you elbow her and ask, “What did Jack want?”

She makes a face. “Heineken. He also likes what he fuckin’ likes.”

You wheeze out a laugh as Isabel comes to join you. She smiles as she sips from something lavender colored in a martini glass. She cuts an elegant figure in her yellow, billowy dress. You smooth your dress and open your mouth to say something when a voice calls your name. You look to see your ex walking up, hand-in-hand with his wife. You know, the one he left you for.

“Jake,” you say in surprise. God, you need your brain to form coherent thoughts right now. “What are you doing here?”

He grins, far too wide and goofy to be real. Not like Jamie, you think.

“Oh, you know, Emma’s loosely related to the bride on her dad’s side. She asked for an invite, so here we are. Who are you here for? Bride or groom?”

“Both, actually,” you reply automatically. Jake’s words are grating, not so much in content as they are in tone. He always had a way of saying things condescendingly, like everyone else was a stupid little kid.

“Oh,” he says in what you think is supposed to be surprise, “that’s funny. I didn’t know you knew anyone out here. You’ve been living in England all alone, right?”

Emma just hovers by Jake’s shoulder. She’s not contributing anything to this conversation except a snooty little smirk.

“No,” you say. “I’m not alone. This is Isabel, by the way.” You look around for Sasha, but she’s disappeared. Smart girl.

Isa doesn’t extend her hand. “Nice to meet you,” she says and Jake takes her at her word. He puffs up his chest a little bit as he asks, “Where are you from? You don’t sound British.”

“We’re from Norway,” a voice behind her says. “I’m Erling.”

Sasha has reappeared with Jack, Erling, and Jamie in tow. You mentally congratulate her with a well done, Sash as you feel Jamie’s arm loop around your waist.

He feels like a solid wall against your back, a glimmer in an otherwise garbage moment.

Jake takes stock of the three men who are looking at him with less-than friendly stares. You’re not sure what Sasha told them, but you’re absolutely positive Jamie recognizes Jake. You can practically feel the hairs on his arm bristling.

Jake finishes his assessment and deems it appropriate to talk. “So, how do you all know each other?”

Jamie scoffs and looks away, while Jack stares at Jake like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

You wonder what it is with your affinity for J-names.

“We’re footballers,” Erling says before anyone can take more offense.

“Premier League footballers,” Jamie adds, as if it means anything to Jake.

Jake’s American, like you, and he’s never been much for sports anyway. He wouldn’t even recognize David Beckham if the man were standing under a poster of himself.

Jake says, “Right. Hey, weren’t you on one of those trashy dating shows?” and Jamie stiffens.

Sasha mutters, “Fuck’s sake,” under her breath as Erling and Isabel take pointed interest in something in the distance.

“No,” Jamie replies shortly. “The fuck were you talking to my girl?”

Jake looks to you in surprise. “Oh! You two are together? That’s… well, that’s… I guess I just didn’t expect her to be whoring around like that. But hey, move to another country and all morals go out the window, right?”

That’s the thing about Jake. He never speaks as if he’s actually trying to be offensive. He just says what’s on his mind. And you’re a little concerned that what’s on his mind is going to land Jamie (and quite possible Jack) in jail. Neither of them are especially known for backing down from a squabble. “Cut from the same cloth,” Pep was rumored to say.

“Fuck off, mate,” Jack interjects. “Just fuck off. Everyone here loves her, and you can’t talk about her like that.”

Your ex reevaluates the situation at hand and decides the best thing to do would be to take Emma’s hand and walk away.

“Strange that his wife does not speak,” Erling remarks.

You grimace. “You could’ve stopped at ‘strange.’ No idea what I ever saw in him.”

Jamie has a crushing grip on your waist so you wiggle a bit to get him to loosen up.

“Prick,” he mutters. “How the fuck did he even get here, anyway? He’s in fucking America.”

“His wife’s loosely related to Stella. They asked for an invite,” Isabel volunteers.

Jamie rolls his eyes. “Oi, if he tries to talk to you again, I’ll grab Roy and we’ll fucking kill him.”

“Yeah, ‘cause McAdoo’s never been above a little violence at a party,” Jack grins.

You return his smile and say, “Thanks, but I’m pretty sure his mother-in-law would kill you.”

Erling huffs out a laugh. “Never a dull moment in the Premier League, is there?”

Isabel grins and loops her arm through his. “I’m tired of all this,” she says. “Let’s go dancing. There’s a band and we don’t have to think about anything other than celebrating, yes?”

“God yes,” says Sasha.

Jamie still looks murderous, but you squeeze his hand once and whisper, “I’m fine, babe. It’s fine.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but he lets you pull him along to the dance floor with the group.

—

There are so many people that you don’t even catch a glimpse of Jake and Emma. You’re not sure what they’re up to, and fairly certain they don’t know anyone else here. You on the other hand, are living your best life as Jamie sings along to “Ain’t No Mountain.” He’s swinging your arms around as he sways in time to the music. You just let him lead you however he wants. The song ends and he presses his lips to your ear so you can hear him over the sheer volume of everyone talking. “D’you want a drink? I can go get you something.”

You nod and mouth my usual, please, so he salutes and begins weaving his way through the crowd. You watch him as long as you can before spinning back around with a smile.

A smile that quickly fades when you realize Emma is right in front of you.

She says, “Cute dress,” and for a moment, you believe she’s being sincere but then she follows it up with, “Did you borrow it from your grandma’s closet? I’ve seen people do that.”

Right, because grandmas are known for wearing dresses like this.

“What? No, Jamie got it for me,” you say.

“Oh cute, is it from Walmart? I think I saw something like it there last week.”

Emma is trying to draw blood. You suppose she’s taking her shot now as opposed to back then because she thinks there’s no one around to call her out. No one who knows her.

You say, “They don’t have Walmart here,” instead of “It’s Dolce & Gabbana,” because the second phrase would make you sound like a prick. There’s a part of you that wants to be a prick, though, wants to channel that part of Jamie that’s ruthless, vicious and cruel, messing with the opposition before he cuts them down.

The first time you saw it, it was hard to believe the Jamie on the pitch was the same Jamie who played with your hair while you cooked, or put a sticky note on his fridge titled “Babe,” detailing everything you’d ever said you liked.

Emma sees she’s not getting to you, so she changes tactics. “Must be hard being here without any friends,” she remarks. “All alone. And you’ve never been especially extraverted. Are those people the only ones here you know?”

God, Jamie, where are you?

You open your mouth to respond but are cut off by someone with a distinctly midwestern twang say, “I heard one of my favorite countrywomen was here.”

You turn to see Ted Lasso grinning at you in a black suit. It’s the same smile you remember, albeit his eyes are a little sharp. You’d bet anything he knows exactly what’s going on between you and Emma.

“Ted!” you smile as a rush of relief floods your system. You step into his arms for a hug as he says, “Hey, sweetheart. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know,” you say. “Kind of great, actually. I wondered if you were going to be here! Have you seen Jamie yet?”

Ted shakes his head. “Y’know, I haven’t. Why don’t we find him together?” He offers you an arm and you take it gratefully, choosing not to spare Emma a glance.

“She seems like a real bucket of laughs,” Ted remarks.

“You have no idea. That’s my ex’s wife.”

Whatever Ted thought you were going to say, he certainly wasn’t prepared for that. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before settling on a short, “Well I’ll be danged.”

You laugh and stand on tiptoes to try to see Jamie. You don’t see him, but you catch a glimpse of an especially tall, blond head.

“This way,” you tell Ted. You brush past Phil who smiles at you, past Colin and Michael, and past someone you’re pretty sure is a Beckham.

You make your way to Erling and Isabel as they dance to the music in their own corner.

You frown. “Have you seen Jamie?” you shout.

Isabel shakes her head. “He was looking for you,” she calls back.

“Oh,” you say, “Ted, this is Isabel and-”

“Erling Haaland,” Ted says, hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you, son. Big fan of the way you play the game.”

You miss Erling’s response, startled by a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Sam standing behind you.

“Sam!” you exclaim with a grin, “You look so handsome!”

Sam returns your grin and strikes a pose. “I’ve been sent on a very important mission. I am to retrieve you and bring you to Jamie and I am under no circumstances allowed to let a small rat man named Jake speak to you.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Jamie’s words, not mine,” Sam clarifies. “Although I must admit, I have seen this rat man. I do not like him very much.”

“You and me both,” you agree. You wave to Isabel and pat Ted on the arm before following Sam.

He leads you away from the crowd of people to a stone path illuminated by small lights. This can’t be right, you think but Sam points down the path and says, “This is where I leave you.”

He turns to leave then changes his mind and spins back around. “It was lovely seeing you today, albeit for a short amount of time. I hope I will be seeing more of you while we are here. It is not often I meet someone who makes Jamie more tolerable.”

He speaks with a touch of humor and it’s just enough to dispel any apprehensions about what’s waiting for you in the dark.

You say, “Thanks Sam. Love ya,” which he returns before he disappears back to the main party.

You take a breath and head down the steps.

It’s dark, the light barely shining enough for each step, but as you get farther you see a shadowy figure sitting on a bench under a tree. You smile. You can tell exactly who it is by his silhouette.

Jamie stands as you get closer and pulls you into his arms.

“Thought we’d sneak away to make out a bit,” he says. “And maybe to you wouldn’t yell at me in front of all our friends.”

You groan. “What did you do? Please tell me it has nothing to do with Roy. Or Jack. Oh my god, did you two start convincing people you were separated at birth again? Because it’s really only funny one time.”

“Well…” Jamie hedges.

You pinch his back. It’s the only part of him you can reach at the moment. “Jamie Tartt, you’d better tell me what you did right now or so help me you are going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of our lives.”

“Oi, don’t fucking do that!”

He reaches back to grab your hands and holds them flat on his chest. “We- Roy, Grealish, and me, might have gotten your prick ex kicked out.”

“You what?” you gasp.

Jamie starts speaking in a rush before you can say anything else. “Look, y’know how protective Grealish gets, especially because Sasha fucking loves you, and then Roy heard that your prick ex was here (not the twat ex) and he said it’s easier for him to get in and out of fights on account of him being a fucking manager but then Grealish said that it’s pretty much expected that fights happen so might as well and anyway, no one’s gonna fuckin’ snitch on any of us because (hate to break it to you babe), but you’re, like, everyone’s kid sister. They’d fucking kill for you so it’s possible that we channeled that into threatening to break all of his bones if he ever ended up in the same country as you again.”

You’re processing all of the things Jamie said plus the incredible speed at which he said them, so all you can manage is a single “Okay,” before he’s talking again.

“Ehm, it’s also slightly-fucking-possible that someone did break his foot.”

“What?” you all but shout.

“Coordinated effort between Isa and Haaland,” Jamie says. “Lad’s a fucking wall, don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

“Jesus, Jamie,” you groan. “I don’t know if I should kiss you or pinch you again.”

“You can do both,” he suggests.

You sigh. “I’m going to kiss you. Like, a lot. And I’m not going to worry about getting caught and after we’ve snogged like a pair of kids in high school- sorry, secondary school, then we’re going to eat a bunch more food and dance with our friends. And if you want to get sloshed, I promise I will only take funny videos for myself, and I will not send them to your mum this time.”

Jamie says, “Liar,” as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Fine,” you concede, “I will most definitely send them to your mum. And Simon. We’re on a group chat.”

“Not even gonna fucking ask,” Jamie says as he threads a hand through your hair so he can get at a better angle to kiss you.

—

You wake up the next morning (ahem, afternoon) to Jamie’s foot in your face.

“Excuse me, sir,” you say.

He hiccups himself awake. “Yeah?” he rumbles. “What fucking time..?”

“Late, I assume,” you say.

He groans and flips himself around so your heads are on the same side of the bed. He wastes no time in tangling your limbs together.

“Oi, koala boy. Some of us have morning breath.”

“No y’don’t babe,” he mumbles.

You scratch his head and a shudder runs through his body. “I know,” you say, “my breath is perfect. I meant you. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Cruel woman,” he returns before lapsing into silence. The sun slips through the curtains, and you’re sure it’s going to be another gorgeous day

“Jamie,” you begin then stop.

He says, “Yeah, love?” while looking up at you with his gorgeous blue eyes and you take a moment to freeze this image in your head.

Jamie Tartt, in bed, hair tousled from sleep. Pillowy white duvet, golden freckled skin, warm body pressed to yours.

He kisses your shoulder, rousing you from your thoughts.

“Jamie,” you say again, “I wanted to say-”

“Don’t,” he interjects. “You’re not fucking allowed to say thank you for the bare fucking minimum.”

“But it’s not,” you reply, opting to skate over the fact that he apparently can read your mind. “Bare minimum is like, making sure I’m not alone with him, not getting your friends together to scare him off and break his foot.”

Jamie’s been kissing your skin wherever he can reach as you speak, so his words are interspersed with pecks. “Technically, the foot was an accident. Ask any one of our witnesses. And besides, they’re your friends too. You’re the one who got ‘em all to like ya despite the fact we’re mortal enemies on the pitch.”

“You’re the one who goes tanning with Jack,” you remind him.

“Lies told by the press,” Jamie grumbles. “This is my natural sexy glow.”

You say, “Okay little British boy,” as Jamie decides that his current position is not enough and he wants to lay on top of you.

He says something but his face is buried in the crook of your neck, so all you can feel is vibrations.

You ask, “Hm?” so he lifts his head.

“What if it were us next year?”

“Tanning or breaking feet?”

“Getting married.”

Jamie goes back to having his mouth on your neck as if the air weren’t just punched from your lungs.

You’re quiet long enough that he lifts his head again to ask, “Is that good quiet or bad quiet?”

“Good!” you hastily confirm. “Good, but, babe- you haven’t even asked me yet.”

He says, “I’m going to,” as if you should have known already.

“Okay,” you breathe, “can you give me like a little heads up or something so my nails are done?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, “At the end of the week. Been planning it. Ring’s in my bag, even asked Stella if she’d be pissed that it’s the same week she took on the most un-sexy last name in history. She said she don’t give a shit as long as it’s not at her actual wedding. So.”

“I love you,” you tell him. “Not just because of yesterday or right now. I just think you’re great.”

“I am great, babe,” he says like it’s obvious. “Picked you, didn’t I?”

You crack a smile. “Alright, that’s enough out of you. Do you want to get out of bed or go back to sleep?”

“Sleep,” he replies immediately.

“Thank God,” you groan, “I didn’t want to move. You’re like a weighted blanket.”

“It’s me sexy muscles,” Jamie says. You wiggle under him to get more comfortable.

“Uh huh,” you agree, but the words are hardly out of your mouth before you’re both back to sleep.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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urrockstar-xe · 3 months

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sneaking out - t.c x fem!reader

posted jan 21st, 2024 10:50 am

@dingus85 asked : May I request a Tara Carpenter x fem!reader based on Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift where they have been sneaking out to the beach every night (scenario 5). This time they’re just being stupid, and reader accidentally confesses that she likes her. Somewhere in the fic Tara uses one liner 18.

im so sorry for the wait love, I hope u enjoy.

masterlist

not proofread

wordcount: 0.9k

It was Chad’s idea to have one big group vacation for the summer, a simple nearly 50-hour road trip from New York to California. A few weeks on the beach to help everyone recover from the first semester of college and some time for Sam and Tara to learn how to be away from each other again.

Every small-town kid needs a Beach Vacation, right? Well actually, your plans for the summer were to find a good job but just when you wanted to argue, Mindy pointed out that you could share a room with Tara, and Tara responded by clapping her hands together, smiling at you and

“We’ll have so much fun!”

How could you say no to that?

Everyone had taken turns driving, except for Mindy, her job was to make sure everyone had enough snacks and to ensure you’d make it to the Airbnb in one piece.

You were lucky enough to find one on the beach, giving easy access to the water and the sand that Mindy soon found to be an incredible nuisance, Anika was enjoying the chance to dress up in different beach weather outfits and there was also the perfect spot to play volleyball which Chad forced everyone to do.

And then there were you and Tara, you had the same favorite part of this vacation and it was the late-night bonfires.

You had only one with all of you involved but the following night you both snuck out together to start up another one, and this quickly became routine for the both of you.

You couldn’t help but enjoy this silly game you were playing in your head even if Tara didn’t realize you were playing at all. Sharing a bed, waking up early enough to make breakfast, making the bed, and taking turns to shower after beach days just to sneak off and come back smelling like firewood.

It was perfect for you, and maybe it was for Tara too, but obviously, you weren’t going to ask.

Tonight was one of your last nights in California and none of you were ready to leave, except Mindy, who wanted to go home the first week. But of course, you were most worried about going home, everything would go back to normal and you could no longer live in your little bubble with Tara and her soft smiles and giggly laughs,

and your little sneak-out “dates” that were just for you and Tara.

But that just meant you had to make the most of it, which leads you outside sitting on an old beach towel next to the pretty girl, watching the pit of flames dance before your eyes.

“I’m not ready to go home yet, I like sneakin’ out with you.” Tara’s voice caught your attention, turning to look at her as she spoke. She was thinking the same as you. “We could always sneak out together back in New York” You spoke in the same quiet tone, as if you weren’t allowed to speak louder than the sound of the sea.

Tara pouted, “It’s not the same, though.” Oh. You nodded in agreement looking back at the fire.

“I wanna go swimming,” She said suddenly, standing up and taking off her sweater, well your sweater, you had let her wear. “Tara, you’ll freeze” You smiled, knowing she wouldn’t listen anyway as she was already walking towards the water, tossing her sweatpants to you as you laughed.

You watched amused as she eventually made it to the water, she hesitated, “C’mon, my girl Tara Carpenter doesn’t back down from stupid stuff!” You called out in a teasing tone, hearing her laugh as she threw her head back before running straight into the water, “Holy shit!” she yelled, squealing as she resurfaced.

You laughed as Tara ran back up to you, soaking wet and gratefully thanking you as you put the towel around your shoulders. “That was so stupid” she laughed, shivering slightly as you rubbed her arms, laughing with her as you attempted to warm her up.

“That is why I like you so much” You had barely noticed the words come out as Tara’s smile softened, staring at you with a tilted head and puppy dog eyes. “What?” Tara’s voice was quieter now, still having a slightly shaky tone as she was still freezing.

“What?” you repeated the question, you could backtrack, sure but Tara wasn’t stupid, she wouldn’t believe that no matter how well you sold it she saw it in your eyes,

you’re so screwed, you almost laughed.

“What did you say? You like me?” Tara’s grip on the towel tightened a little, that soft look on her face capturing you the way it always did. You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, not knowing how to explain yourself in a way that made sense but Tara spoke up instead.

“Come here and kiss me, dummy” She smiled, and you didn’t want to waste any time as your hands moved to her face and pulled her in, cold, soft lips hitting yours as if they were meant to be on yours. Tara abandoned the towel to hold your wrists.

“You are so catching a cold,” You said through heavy breaths earning a sweet laugh in response.

“Yeah, but you’ll take care of me.” you smiled at that because obviously you would.

“Yeah, I will.” You said, Tara smiled back.

“I think I will sneak out with you back in New York.”

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x female reader #scream x reader #scream imagines #scream imagine #scream fanfiction #tara carpenter imagine #Spotify

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issacballsac · 9 months

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“Being Best-friends with Dante Sparda„

Being a son of Sparda doesn’t mean he doesn’t have time to fool around with you ! Gender neutral human reader

Teenage Years | DMC3

Being the massive flirt he is he’ll most likely try and flirt with you upon meeting

Seeing as his twin brother is currently trying to kill him and take his necklace he’ll keep your first conversation short and leave you with his number

After literal Hell on Earth he’ll remember to give you a call

Y’all click instantly…he’s also just a really easy person to get along with but we’ll just ignore that

Now we all know he STAYS broke so either you pay for a meal or y’all are taking a walk in the park somewhere

Getting him to actually talk about himself is pretty difficult

Give him space and he’ll open up about deeper things in his life eventually especially things that concern his demon half(brother, childhood, etc.)

He does enjoy throwing compliments everywhere so expect daily words of praise whether it be sarcastic, goofy, exaggerated, or sincere praise

If you like to compliment as well it’ll be like the most sickening bromance ever

If your still in school DO NOT go to him for homework help

He’ll hype you up for sure but if you need genuine academic help just get a tutor💀

Would be genuinely upset if you made a joke regarding his white hair bro would get hella moody and claim you aren’t friends anymore

If you have a part time job you can BET he’s gonna ask for some bread

Not exactly outright but he’ll allude to it like..

“You remember all the damage those demon guys did to my shop? Yeah…it’s gonna cost A TON to repair it by myself…”

“Are you hungry? Well I heard about this new pizza spot that WE should totally tryout 😁.”

If you like to make clothes/jewelry/accessories he’ll totally wear it

Refuses to let you mess with his hair until like two years into knowing each other

Takes pride in his looks and you should too! Self care! Ofc you’re paying for any and all expenses🫶

Glorified sugar daddy😭

If you live with your parents…so does he

Congratulations you have a new brother 🩰

If you don’t he’ll offer to be roommates so he can get a cheaper rent

You’ll definitely meet Lady she is absolutely appalled at how you tolerate him constantly sarcastically ofc she knows he’s a good guy

If you’re into video games he’ll play with you granted he doesn’t have the money to pay for a game console so it’ll be on whatever console you have

Once he’s in your life he’s never leaving literally.

A best-friend for a lifetime

Adult Years

He probably saved you from some demons

Like if you met him in his teenage year he’d def start flirting

What can I say he stays true to himself

His personality would never change regardless of his aging

Still the same wacky woohoo pizza man we know and love

Thinks you look hot and invites you on a date which quickly just turns into a hangout after the LACK of romance

Still finds hanging with you to be fun and keeps a friendship

Even after establishing a friendship he still flirts here and there—force of habit

Would definitely teach you how to ride a motorcycle if you didn’t already know

More willing to let you mess with his hair

Like put it in pigtails or tie it up/braid it

Introduced you to the whole DMC gang

Now depending on the time period he’ll tell you about Vergil and his upbringing

He would totally tell you all about it after the events of DMC5 after he returns ofc!

I feel like he’s an animal guy so if you have any pets they’re now his pets too

Co-parenting core🩰

If you’re an artist he’ll be your muse/reference material any day

Loves the attention

Drunk dance nights

Karaoke too he doesn’t have the best singing voice but it’s not the worst

Since he’s a devil hunter he goes on missions a lot and seeing as you don’t want to get your shit rocked you stay behind

Cherishes every moment spent together and will make sure you know that

You always take him with you on vacations

How could you not???

He appreciates if you chip in helping him pay off his MASSIVE FUCKING DEBT

He doesn’t expect you to though

Despite being broke he stays stylish and if you asked would help you with fashion

Ofc he isn’t like BIG on fashion but cmon have you seen his looks? He dabbles

Immediately sees you after missions and starts ranting about the entire thing

“Can you believe it?! So obviously I shot that nasty bitch and it had the nerve to explode all over my jacket! It died so I can’t even get it to pay for a new one!”

“Don’t worry about why I smell like this worry about the fact that Trish totally took MY commission!”

Very dramatic but laid back too if that makes sense

Calls you cheesy nicknames that I will not elaborate on use your imagination 🗣️🫶

Enjoys live music and will go with you to concerts if you like

Shows you his demon form if you’re interested

Whatever your hobby is he’ll be interested

Would make sure nothing ever bad happened to you regarding devils ofc

Best bros for life and in death🫡

#devil may cry #dmc devil may cry #dmc x you #dmc x reader #dante x reader #dante x you #gn reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #dante sparda #beingdantesfriend #platonic #platonic headcanons #dmc headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction

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anonymous-dentist · 29 days

Text

But also:

It’s a little funny how Penacony is intergalactically-renowned as a ‘dream world’ when everything in it is a goddamn nightmare.

The lights? Too bright, flashing, colorful: red and blue and pink and orange and colors that can only exist in the distorted subconscious that the dream realm is built upon.

The sounds? Too loud, too everywhere: cars honking and bands playing and people screaming and advertisement boards chasing you down begging for you to check out their home store because even a dimension entirely made out of dreams has fallen into the immoral clutches of capitalism.

Cellbit hates it. He hates everything about it, actually, down to the strange fluttering in his stomach every time he passes by a sentient traffic cone and the buzzing in his head when he drinks too much SoulGlad.

But the IPC has their eyes on the planet, and so Cellbit is here before Cucurucho and the rest of the IPC Census Bureau can arrive and take stock of the people they’re ready to enslave. You can’t die in a dream, but maybe Cellbit can kill Cucurucho good enough in the dream realm that she’ll wake up in the hotel and have a heart attack at the memory of their own death.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Cellbit sips at his SoulGlad with a faint smile on his lips. Penacony is supposed to make his dreams come true, right? Maybe the Family can allow him just one little murder before sicking their Bloodhounds on him.

“This stuff sucks,” Roier complains, slumping against the bar with his still-full glass in hand. “Why don’t they just serve water here?”

More important than the IPC and Cucurucho, however, is the Fool by Cellbit’s side. It’s Roier’s birthday, and he wanted a nice vacation to get away from the whole ‘revenge quest’ thing they’ve been doing for the past couple of common galactic month cycles. He wanted his dream vacation, and so Cellbit got him just that: a vacation inside of a literal dream.

“You’re in a dream, and you just want water?” the bartender incredulously asks. She shakes her head and walks away to the other end of the bar to handle a drunk wine bottle complaining about her ex husband the whiskey.

“It’s my birthday!” Roier whines. He smushes his cheek against the sticky bar top and squeezes his eyes shut. “Even the water tastes like shit! It’s all sparkly and stuff!”

Cellbit rolls his eyes. “It’s sparkling water, pendejo. I don’t think they even have water on Penacony. Just alcohol.”

Roier groans dramatically. “I want to go home!”

‘Home’ being Cellbit’s ship, the Ordem. It’s a tiny little thing- so small that he and Roier have to share a bed in the closet pretending to be sleeping quarters- but it sure beats trying to hitchhike between planets. (Cellbit knows from experience.)

Cellbit gently pats Roier’s back. “If you aren’t having fun here, we can go somewhere else. Unlimited dream worlds, remember? There’s gotta be something you’ll like.”

Currently, they’re in Golden Hour. But Cellbit thinks there’s a dream realm that’s one big huge restaurant somewhere, Roier should like that. He likes food, and he likes the natural chaos that comes with a restaurant full of rich entitled people.

But Roier just shakes his head and cracks an eye open to look up at Cellbit.

“Can we just… go back to our room?” he asks. “Maybe we can come back later, but only if they have actual fucking water!”

He sits up and shouts that last bit at the bartender, who just sighs and continues consoling the wine bottle. (Apparently, the whiskey cheated on her with a bottle of champagne from the amusement park realm. Wow, what a piece of shit.)

Cellbit’s face softens, and he nods. “Of course. And maybe we’ll get to kill Cucurucho when we come back.”

Roier smiles at that. “Ay, don’t get my hopes up.”

Because Roier’s best friend and son have been ‘acquired’ by the Census Bureau, and Cellbit’s whole planet was destroyed by the Census Bureau’s actions. Cucurucho needs to die, simple. And they’re going to make it happen, even in their dreams.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#I’m just rambling don’t mind me #it’s very niche but I love it

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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AITA for not wanting to go on family vacation?

I (23, ftm) have been arguing with my parents, mainly my mom, for months about this. I’m transmasc, about a month on t and starting to really show signs of it, but the location they’re going to is in a state that isn’t very trans friendly (not as bad as Florida, but still has transphobic legislation in the queue and public opinion numbers aren’t the most promising). I explained this to my parents when they suggested the location, and told them how I don’t feel safe going as someone who’s visibly trans, and even offered to look for alternative locations to visit. They seemed to ignore this and booked the place, and when I confronted them about it, reminding them about the whole trans thing, they acted like this was news to them and were mad at me for “not saying something sooner.” They’ve also tried arguing with me and saying I’m a hypocrite because I’ve traveled to other places recently, although they don’t compare at all: they’re comparing a week in a state that isn’t trans-friendly to a few hours at a concert just outside my states line.

It is worth noting the location is somewhere my moms side of the family has been going for decades, even before me or my oldest siblings were born. It holds a lot of sentimental value, and I did have a lot of fun going when I was younger. However, we haven’t gone on this trip in over 5 years now, and this would be the first time since I’ve started transitioning. On top of my t changes, we’d be going to pools and a beach, where I’d be wearing a binder. The only verbal reason my mom has given me for why she specifically wants me there is because she’ll miss me, but I honestly don’t think this is a good enough reason for me to be in a constant state of anxiety and fearing for the worst in everything I do for a week. I’ve even tried rationalizing with my therapist about what it may look like if I go, but ultimately I don’t feel safe and the only workaround I can come up with is staying inside the place we’re staying the entire time, so I don’t even get to actually enjoy the vacation.

I haven’t heard any arguments to my not going from anyone else in the extended side of the family, but this has been a repeating cycle since maybe March. At one point my mom even told me she resents me for this. After another conversation about it tonight, I was much more firm in my not going, which she was livid about. My dad told me later that she was apparently heartbroken by my decision, and asked me to try to ‘think about this,’ as if that isn’t what I’ve been doing for the last 4 months. The vacation is next month. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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geniusphilester · 6 months

Text

rory’s guide to where the howlters might move

i was talking with @underthisweather about this because we both play sims 4 and/or watch simmers that aren’t dan and phil play. there are a lot of people more well-versed in the sims 4 game and the dapg series than i am, but as someone who deliberately bought sims packs to get all the playable worlds, i can at least give it a guess.

i briefly considered making this a tier-list video but i have WAY too much on my plate to wrangle making a template and editing video right now, so quick post it is. i use all the world names, so feel free to look around youtube and other places online if you want to actually see the worlds.

Guidelines

this is all residential worlds, so vacation worlds and secret worlds aren’t being ranked. sorry, batuu (/j).

obviously, willow creek has been their home for a million years, so that’s not in the running, but i’ll talk about it a little bit before we get into the other worlds.

even though i’m not making a tier list video, i am making tiers because it’s fun. they are:

-top contenders: my best guesses for where dil, tabitha, dalien, and nuki land -possible: not my guesses, but also i won’t be completely humiliated if they pick one of these -for the bit: not likely, but if they have a particular joke or personal attachment or storyline in mind, that could keep them in the running -nah: probably not happening

if you want to jump to the end and skip my blathering, that’s where the full tier list will be.

a quick primer as to what we’re talking about here:

-“worlds” are a group of neighborhoods sorted by a general theme or biome or both.

-“neighborhoods” are a group of buildings/spaces grouped into a loose theme. while sims 4 isn’t open world like sims 3, it has wandering spaces between lots that don’t require additional loading that form the connective tissue of the neighborhoods

-“lots” are where specific buildings/houses go. there are a variety of lots: residential, commercial, etc., and they can have specific traits to help or challenges to make things harder, much like you can give sims traits. residential is our main focus here

-each lot has a grid size. 64x64 is huge; 20x15 is a lot smaller.

here’s what they’ve told us about what’s going to happen, pulled directly from the transcript (timestamp):

Phil: We are gonna either build a house from scratch or buy a house, but we're moving. Dan: We're shaking things up. Phil: To a new neighborhood. Dan: The Howlters are getting out of here. Look, it's that time. They lived a whole life. They were ready to retire. They got this three-bedroom massive house. They don't need all of this stuff. Phil: They don't. Dan: They need to start a new life in a new neighborhood now that their gay kids are out of there and they've got an emo and a Shiba Inu to raise. Phil: Yeah. Think about it, though. We're gonna have new neighbors, new friendships, new experiences, new jobs.

generally what we know/can guess:

-prebuilt or custom-built residences are most likely, but they can also bulldoze and build on other kinds of lots without cheats. i summarize the amount of lots each neighborhood has to give you an idea of how many potential neighbors might be around.

-dan is implying they’re going to downsize, so a smaller lot seems likely

-it sounds like dil and tabitha will be getting new jobs? that probably won’t have a ton of impact on the world/lot because jobs are largely “go somewhere else to work and you either can watch or not” or “you work from home but the neighborhood doesn’t have much impact here”. still, good to know

Willow Creek

just wanna give a quick shoutout to willow creek, dil’s home world from the beginning. it’s a base game world, and it’s got a lot of goodies: excellent starter homes, three empty lots (the one they used is a 30x20, which is not as big as they get, but is also not the smallest), notable townies (pancakes family!), a nice park, and a little downtown area. the vibes are distinctly southern USA in biome and architecture

neighborhoods

sage estates: mansions! two residential lots (one occupied by default, one prebuilt empty).

pendula view: historic section, featuring the goths. four lots (three prebuilt, one empty 30x20).

courtyard lane: current home of the howlters and pancakes! in their game, all five lots have houses (shout out to the owl slide).

foundry cove: starter homes. five lots (four prebuilt, one empty 30x20).

crawdad quarter: park, museum, nightclub, gym, library

Oasis Springs

another base game world! VERY deserty, specifically with a slightly palm springs (southern CA, USA) vibe? they have a lot of vague deserts in the sims 4 without actually considering biome too deeply, which i can say because i’m a high-desert queer. anyway.

neighborhoods

acquisition butte: midcentury and kind of mission-style mansions. four residential lots (three prebuilt, one empty 40x30).

skyward palms: two residential lots with mansions.

bedrock strait: the description calls it “delightfully kitschy”. five residential lots (four prebuilt, one empty 30x20).

parched prospect: single-family homes similar to bedrock strait, maybe with less kitsch? five residential lots (four prebuilt, one empty 30x20)

mirage canyon: downtown area, with museum, lounge, park, gym, and bar.

upsides

i wouldn’t call dan and phil desert gays, but irl palm springs is pretty gay! there are a lot of options here to renovate that aren’t giant but aren’t tiny, either. the howlters could get invested in the landgraab drama, if they wanted. the weather is also a lot less rainy than most other words, which means fewer thunderstorms (a big plus for my gameplay, hard to say for them).

downsides

as previously stated, i don’t see dan and phil as desert gays. oasis springs isn’t their architectural style, and emo dalien would probably be miserable (this could be an upside for story reasons, but i’m leaning toward it not working specifically here). plus, oasis springs is an early sims world, and i feel like they’ll go newer for the fun of it.

tier ranking

i deliberated over this one for a second because it’s mostly a no, but i think it’s just possible enough to put in “Possible”. the very bottom, though.

Newcrest

honestly, i’m hesitant to call newcrest a world all its own because it’s basically willow creek without anything in it. there are no preset buildings here, just three neighborhoods with five empty lots.

neighborhoods

bridgeview: lots are 2 20x15, 2 30x20, 1 40x30

llama lagoon: lots are 1 30x20, 1 30x30, 2 40x30, 1 50x40

ridgeline drive: lots are 3 30x20, 1 40x20, 1 40x30

upsides

one word: versatility. i play here all the time because it’s easy to make a tiny home (my favorite way to build my sims’ skills) on the smallest lots and build a full town around them, complete with all the houses, neighbors, and lot types you want. for youtubers who are into storytelling, it’s very appealing.

downsides

i honestly don’t see dan and phil as youtubers who want to make their own towns. they could pull from the gallery entirely without taking up too much time, but that feels too stale for their playstyle and personal aesthetics, and i think they want to shake things up more. it wouldn’t even make a good “we said we were moving but we didn’t say it would be different” bit.

tier ranking

nah

Magnolia Promenade

technically possible, but i doubt it’s happening: it’s a similar style to willow creek with three retail lots and one empty 30x20 residential lot.

tier ranking

nah

Windenburg

the world that came with get together, which we know dan and phil have. quality-wise, it’s one of the best worlds in the whole game: a bunch of lots, beautiful architecture, variety in neighborhoods. it has a real northwestern european vibe.

neighborhoods

windslar: mix of large houses and smaller. six residential lots with one empty 40x30, and a chalet gardens lot, including hedge maze.

olde platz: old downtown of windenburg with a bunch of housing but no empty lots. four residential, bar, library, cafe, nightclub, and an ancient ruins lot.

lykke centre: new downtown of winderburg. park, cafe, gym, nightclub, and a giant pool.

the crumbling isle: rich people on an island! five residential lots with one empty 20x20.

upsides

versatility, but with structure. building a new house on that 20x20 island lot seems very possible to me, but they could take one of the empty prebuilts or evict someone easily. a lot of neighbors to mess with, and a lot of destinations to play in. i visit lykke center’s nightclub and pool in my games all the time.

downsides

not only would i say tudor is not dan and phil’s style (which is a lot of the non-mansion housing), i would say that, despite the slightly more germanic or nordic bent, it might be too familiar in some ways? but the bigger impediment i think is that it isn’t silly enough for their playstyle and doesn’t fit any of the characters. emo dalien probably won’t pub crawl, you know?

tier ranking

more “Possible” than oasis springs, but not the highest

San Myshuno

the world that came with city living, and dab and evan’s stomping grounds! big city and mostly apartment living.

neighborhoods

spice market: listed as a “family neighborhood”. six apartment units in two buildings, one 30x30 single-family house prebuilt, one karaoke bar.

arts quarter: the “bohemian” neighborhood where the humor and hijinks festival happens. six apartment units, including a penthouse, and an art museum.

fashion district: the “young and trendy�� neighborhood where the romance festival and geekcon happen. six apartment units, including a penthouse, and a karaoke bar.

uptown: the “luxurious” neighborhood, with four apartment units, a gym, and a rooftop lounge. the city park’s next to this one.

upsides

we know this is VERY dan and phil because dab and evan already live here (and their place looks like the dnp manchester flat)! it would be very funny if dab’s parents showed up and we saw dnp playing dab like he was constantly annoyed they were cramping his style. i would also enjoy if they demolished the standalone house and built a city-style house like forever home. not that i’m trying to get a house tour by any means possible or anything.

downsides

this isn’t different enough, and that’s why i mostly think it won’t happen. i think it would only happen if dab and evan went elsewhere.

tier ranking

For the bit. i think they’ll go a different direction but they also can’t resist being self-referential, so i can’t rule it out entirely

Forgotten Hollow

the world that came with vampires. if you’ve watched this sims series in full, you’ve seen it before. i play in it constantly, but most people aren’t into occult sims like i am or build cemetery lots to keep all their dead sims. for some reason.

lots (because there aren’t distinct neighborhoods)

garliclauter place: empty prebuilt, 30x20, vampire nexus lot trait

vatore house: prebuilt, 30x30

vlad’s house: prebuilt, 40x30

fledermaus bend: empty lot, 30x30

widowshild townhome: prebuilt, 30x20, registered vampire lair lot trait

there’s also some non-lot space that’s fun to hang out in, like the central park (that isn’t a park lot) and wilderness behind most of the lots

tier ranking

just skipping to this because it’s an easy “nah”: they’ve been here before and purely did it as an alternate-universe spooky week episode.

Brindleton Bay

the world that came with dogs and cats (and the first canon gay sim townies)! we know they have it because nuki exists. rainy seaside vibes.

neighborhoods

sable square: listed as both the “cultural center” of the world, but as a “monument” to their pets. three residential lots with one empty 30x20, a park with the dog-friendly lot trait, and a vet clinic.

cavalier cove: seaside residential of varying sizes. five residential lots with two empty 30x20s.

whiskerman’s wharf: touristy downtown wharf. three residential lots with one empty 40x30, a bar, and a lounge.

deadgrass isle: island with a museum lot. also has a lighthouse i think you can run around in, but i haven’t tried it.

upsides

if they were doing nuki-focused story or were looking to fill a house entirely with cats and dogs, this would be the place to go. maybe the howlters could have gay friends and live next door to the heckings! dan and phil yelling about the feral/townie cats would be a delight.

downsides

honestly, i’m just not a huge fan of this world. it never runs well on my computer, it rains all the time (which i like in real life, but not the sims), and if i have pets, i’m always in the vet clinic getting that stuff to work. obviously this is a ymmv thing, but i think it’s too bland for dan and phil as well.

tier ranking

low in “Possible”. i think oasis springs makes more sense, honestly.

Del Sol Valley

the world from get famous, which is basically a giant los angeles clone.

neighborhoods

mirage park: three residential lots, including one empty 50x40

starlight boulevard: the downtown area. two lounges, one museum, one nightclub, one park.

the pinnacles: mansion area. three prebuilt residential lots.

tier ranking

i’m gonna put this in “nah” quickly because dab is pursuing the actor career and might come here if he wants fame, but it’s more of a world to visit than live in. i don’t hate it or anything, but there’s few sims to interact with, and it wasn’t well-built. (one of the mansions has no bathrooms!) i think the only potential spoiler here is if dan and phil (mostly dan) wanted an outlet to rant about the entertainment industry, but they can do that without moving to del sol valley.

Strangerville

came with the pack of the same name! this is different than every other world because there’s a built-in narrative about the government and weird behavior, but it also has the neighborhood structure.

neighborhoods

secret lab: this is part of the narrative and is a single lot, but it gets its own neighborhood mention because, if you look up the map, it takes up the entire upper left corner.

shady acres: rich part of strangerville. five residential lots with two empty 30x20s.

strangerville plaza: main part of strangerville. four prebuilt residential lots, one library, and one bar.

upsides

honestly, that i have any is going to probably set me apart from any sims player-dapg fan combo. i think the red desert look is nicely different from the willow creek look, the build items are sometime underrated, and dan’s area 51 reference in the latest video could have been a hint. dil has been super close to alien weirdness; might as well follow that to its logical conclusion!

downsides

i don’t actually think dan and phil will do strangerville’s story because they want something a little more different. the richer housing in this world isn’t super well-built, and i can’t imagine them building a trailer in a trailer park for fun (although they should; i enjoy those kinds of build videos a lot).

tier ranking

For the bit

Sulani

the world that came with island living, probably most directly inspired in style by hawaii. this is a fun one because one of the neighborhoods is built on a volcano, multiple lots include sections of water, and you can turn into a mermaid! or, you know, just have a drink on the beach.

neighborhoods

lani st. taz: four residential lots including one empty 50x50, and a beach lot

mua pel’am: the volcano neighborhood! three residential lots, including one empty 40x30, and a lot of fun exploratory territory.

ohan’ali town: main town area. four prebuilt residential lots, one beach lot, one bar

upsides

very different than willow creek, good if they want to pursue a “dil and tabitha are kind of retired and immortal, why not go to the beach” storyline, generally just a good world.

downsides

if “pale nerds move to the desert” is a bad idea, “pale nerds move to the beach” isn’t much better. the off-the-grid options seem VERY unlikely!

tier ranking

no offense to sulani, but “nah” seems most likely

Glimmerbrook

realm of magic’s residential world! (there’s a portal to another world in this one, but you can’t live there without mods/cheats.) another world where i like it in theory, but the construction could be better, and it’s mostly centered around an occult type.

lots

glimmerbrook watch: empty 30x20

charm family: residential 40x20

amicable acolytes: residential 30x20

brooks bridge borough: residential 30x20

elixirs and brews: bar

tier ranking

nah

Britechester

discover university’s world! most of the housing here is specifically for students, but not all of it.

neighborhoods

foxbury university: the newer school! four university housing lots

gibbs hill: the town part of the college town. three prebuilt housing lots, one bar, and one library.

university of britechester: the older school. four university housing lots

tier ranking

i’m putting this in “Top contenders” with an asterisk: i don’t think it’ll happen yet, and if/when it does happen, it’ll be because dalien graduated high school and moved to university, which was implied in the latest video to be a likely path for dalien. my understanding is that university plays work better if the students live out of the world, but imagine dan and phil passing up a chance to talk about their uni experiences. i bet dalien will live his conflicted alien life in the dorms, at least to start with.

Evergreen Harbor

eco lifestyle’s world! it doesn’t have a strict narrative like strangerville does, but it’s built specifically for residents to vote on community initiatives and with mechanics that change the look depending on how environmentally conscious everyone’s being.

neighborhoods

grims quarry: former quarry turned residential neighborhood. three prebuild single-family lots and one apartment lot.

port promise: former industrial port trying to be reclaimed by the community. three prebuilt residential lots, one bar, one community space.

conifer station: former train area turned residential. two prebuilt residential lots, one apartment space, one community space.

upsides

i honestly think this one has a lot of potential, both in regards to dan and phil’s tastes and storyline options. going from strict scientist toward environmentalist would be a great route for dil, and the household could live in an apartment without being in the city, if they felt like downsizing that much. dan specifically has a reformed nihilist vibe that would go really well here, and dumpster diving/woohooing is a LOT of fun.

downsides

maybe not glamorous enough? dalien would probably hate it, which is not a hard no for me lol. they might want a world with more neighbors to torment, too. i’m also not sure if dan and phil have eco lifestyle, are interested, or even really know about it.

tier ranking

Top contenders, even if dan and phil don’t know it

Mt. Komorebi

snowy escape’s world, which is definitely japanese in influence, but not tokyo: it’s specifically more rural mountain areas. it’s also unique in that it’s half residential world, half vacation world, and the mountain is snowy even if you don’t have the seasons pack.

neighborhoods

yukimatsu: mountain peak with ski slopes! two rental lots, one onsen bathhouse, and one empty residential 50x50.

senbamachi: old part of town. three prebuilt residential lots, one bar, one park.

wakaba: new part of town. three residential lots, including one empty 20x15, one lounge, one rental.

upsides

look, it’s japan. dan and phil like japan (to put it mildly) and this pack melds older style with modern luxury real well. the builds are really solid as well; this was around the time when the sims team got simmers involved in making buildings, and it makes a big difference. the one time i played with dan and phil sims, they lived in mt. komorebi.

downsides

the combination of sports and vacation makes this a bit less likely as a moving destination, i think.

tier ranking

For the bit. it’s borderline imo, but if they go here, it will largely be because dan and phil love japan.

Henford-on-Bagley

cottage living’s world, which is very deliberately rural england in style.

neighborhoods

the bramblewood: mostly woods, with some buildings. three prebuilt residential lots, one park.

old new henford: the real farming neighborhood. four residential lots, including one empty 50x40.

finchwick: the village. two residential lots and one bar.

tier ranking

nah. if i think windenburg might be too familiar, henford-on-bagley definitely is, and i doubt they’ll do farming gameplay.

Tartosa

the world for the still-broken wedding stories pack! mediterranean in inspiration, mostly italy, i think.

neighborhoods

terra amorosa: waterfall, bridge, and buildings. three residential lots, including one empty 30x30, and one wedding venue.

porto luminoso: seaside town. three residential lots, including one empty 40x20, one rental lot, and one lounge.

tier ranking

nah. if we go here, it’ll be for the devan wedding, but even then i don’t think it’s super their style. (tbf i haven’t played here a ton, but the lounge is fun to visit)

Moonwood Mill

the werewolf pack’s world! i think this is a bit more liveable for most people than the vampire world, if only because there’s some variety in building type, but it’s still an occult pack.

lots

volkov house: occupied residential, 40x30

new moon shack: empty prebuilt residential, 20x15

the moonwood mill library: library

grimtooth bar and bunker: bar

prowler’s patch: empty residential lot, 30x30

tier ranking

nah. can i will another alternate universe episode like the vampire one into being, though?

Copperdale

the high school years world! mountain western united states vibe with a lake dividing the town in two. the map is beautiful, honestly.

neighborhoods

rockridge heights: the high school gets its own two-part neighborhood, divided into a high school building for regular school gameplay and an auditorium for things like prom, graduation, and a job fair.

prescott square: downtowny area. three prebuilt residential lots, one library, one thrift and bubble tea store (random, but high school years comes with thrifting as a money-making opportunity for teens).

plumbite cove: waterside area. three residential lots, including one empty 20x20, one rental, and one park, but my favorite part is the rabbit hole amusement park (you don’t get to see anyone go on the rides, but it’s a common afterparty destination).

upsides

if you ask me, this is the most likely neighborhood for howlter relocation! they specifically referenced high school years as dalien’s next stop, there’s a small empty lot to build on, it’s one of the newer sims expansions, and it’s different enough from willow creek to make it interesting while not reinventing the wheel. the social opportunities for dalien will be big! even if they don’t move here, we’re definitely going to see it a lot.

downsides

i do think dan and phil’s tastes have gotten more upscale over the years, so they outgrew willow creek, and copperdale might be a little quaint/small for them, too. doesn’t change the fact that dil and tabitha still have a teen.

tier ranking

Top contenders

San Sequoia

the growing together world! seaside town grown up; probably san francisco bay area since lots have the quake zone trait, “sequoia” implies that biome, and the map has a big bridge on it.

neighborhoods

anchorpoint wharf: downtown area. two residential lots, including an empty 30x20, one library, and one rental.

gilbert gardens: family recreation spot. three residential lots, including an empty 40x20, and one recreation center.

hopewell hills: more suburban. four residential lots, including an empty 30x20.

upsides

family space with a lot of options to build and annoy/clone neighbors, while not sacrificing a more urban feeling. plus, it’s the second most recent pack, which means it still feels fresh to a lot of people.

downsides

i’ll be honest, i thought san sequoia was a slam dunk when i was conceptualizing this post. but now that i’ve gone through all the other worlds, i think it’s honestly too young for the howlters. dalien is not splash pad age, for sure. i think it’s still a solid contender, but i would be a bit surprised if it gets picked.

tier ranking

Possible

Chestnut Ridge

horse ranch’s shiny new western US desert world! i’d say the red rock and hills makes i more utahish versus the southern california (oasis springs) and maybe arizona (strangerville) deserts. can i get one brushy high-desert landscape, please? anyway.

neighborhoods

galloping gulch: hilly living. two residential lots and one rental.

new appaloosa: downtown in yeehaw style. two residential lots, one nightclub, one bar, and a notable rabbit-hole arena for horse training next to the park.

riders’ glen: ranch and vineyard spaces. five residential lots with one empty 64x64.

tier ranking

let’s just jump to it: unless dan and phil get a hankering for dil and tabitha to ride horses or crush grapes, i suspect chestnut ridge will only possibly be a destination for dab and evan as brokeback mountain jokes. “For the bit” with an asterisk, it is!

Top contenders

Copperdale, Evergreen Harbor, Britechester*

Possible

Windenburg, San Sequoia, Oasis Springs, Brindleton Bay

For the bit

Mt. Komorebi, San Myshuno, Strangerville, Chestnut Ridge*

nah

Del Sol Valley, Sulani, Tartosa, Henford-on-Bagley, Newcrest, Glimmerbrook, Moonwood Mill, Forgotten Hollow, Magnolia Promenade * = not right away

#finally got this 4k+ monster ready to go #thanks to dnp for not posting spooky week today and giving me a lull lol #this is all my opinions: i'd love to hear other sim players' thoughts!#will they prove me wrong and move the howlters to sulani? lol #i'm excited to find out #my ramblings #sims #dapg

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otomes-and-tears · 1 year

Note

AAAAA OKAYOKAYOKAY NEW FLUFFY IDEA FOR OL2!!

Qiu and Tama (separate),step 2 with a GN MC/Reader (Best Friend or crush status but yet to confess! Basically both parties are pining,being hopelessly in love HAHA) BUT THIS TIME IT'S SUMMER VACATION TIME!! Maybe they go on a trip on their own,try new summer-deserts etc! I didn't have a specific prompt or anything,I'm not sure which way you wanna write this idea in SO IT'S UP TO YOUU! I just thought cute,fluffy scenes would make both couples,respectively,A LOT LOT MORE CUTER!!

♦ A summer with Qiu and Tamarack ♦

► tags and warnings: GN reader

► words: 2103

► A/N: Broke my rules again by writing two one-shots.

SORRY! I LOVE QIU AND TAMARACK TOO MUCH

By the way— some of the dialogue is inspired by this prompt list!

► Masterlist

Tamarack

“Are you alright?” MC glances at Tamarack, worried. While their first instinct might’ve been to lightly tease her, it was overrun by concern when they saw just how miserable she seemed to be.

She considered the question for a moment before nodding her head “no”, her braided hair swishing from side to side at the motion, as MC tracks its movement with their eyes.

She knew better than to lie to them. It was obvious, for one, and they had known each other for long enough for Tamarack to accept that, sometimes, it was just better to give up and accept that MC is going to take care of her even if Tamarack insists that she’s fine.

Lying just meant that they’d be more worried.

MC quickly hand her a water bottle— the sole reason why they’d left the pool in the first place, and she readily accepts it, muttering a quiet “thank you” before opening the lid to take a sip. MC sits at the edge of the lounge chair she’s in, taking in the shade after a long day in the sun. Tamarack seems to brighten up a bit before having some water, but MC knows there’s no way it would help much with her current predicament— that being the fact that almost all surface of skin that wasn’t protected by her one-piece swimsuit was currently bright pink, and undoubtedly, hot to the touch.

Well, MC knew that Tamarack didn’t tan in the sun, she burned.

When they first met, and she wasn’t nearly and shy and quiet and afraid to bother as she is now, it wasn’t uncommon to see her with red shoulders, burned by the sun, when she inevitably forgot to put sunscreen on to play outside.

As she grew up, she was much more diligent about it. Both to save herself the trouble of dealing with the aftermath and to preserve her health.

In fact, MC was absolutely sure Tamarack had applied it a few hours ago, before they got in the pool.

MC was sure because they were the one who applied sunscreen to her back, and it took a lot of willpower on their part to absolutely not think about it and not make it a big deal because they were friends and it didn’t really mean anything, and they were deluding themselves into thinking that the pretty blush on her neck was related to them at all.

But then again… MC helped her apply it once, but didn’t see it being reapplied, since they were so busy playing in the pool— Oh.

“Wanna go inside?” MC suggests, so Tamarack doesn’t have to ask them and spend too long overthinking about having been bothersome, even though MC always makes sure to reassure her that it’s fine, and they’d much rather do something they’re both having fun with rather than something that only they’re enjoying. “You can shower first, and I can look for some Aloe gel we can use. I’m sure Mom has it in there somewhere.”

Mom always very practical, and had a way of always staying on top of situations like these, there was no doubt in MC’s mind that she saw this coming and prepared for the likely chance that it happened.

Tamarack didn’t look convinced, looking over at MC with uncertainty.

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to swim for longer?”

She asks, and MC doesn’t think twice before nodding no.

“Nah, all that swimming made me a little tired.” They admit, with a smile. It was technically true, anyways. “I’m alright just chilling inside. Maybe we can play a board game or watch TV and eat ice cream!”

MC got up from the lounged chair there were perched at— their excitement over their new plans finally managing to convince Tamarack to give in.

“I’m okay with anything as long as we can spend more time together.” Tamarack says, and MC’s heart flutters at her words “...And we’re away from the sun.”

MC offered one of their hands to her, which she gratefully accepted. It’s a gesture that they’ve repeated many times throughout the years, her soft hand grabbing theirs to lead them away to the woods, on their way home, through the corridors of their school or just holding for the sake of holding, because they were close and didn’t really need a reason to hold each other’s hand.

It didn’t need to mean much.

In fact, it shouldn’t mean anything at all, It was just like helping her with her sunscreen or spreading aloe on her back.

It’s a gesture that survived from their childhood years— a sign of their closeness and strong bond and friendship. Nothing more.

There was nothing romantic about it.

Then why did such a simple, meaningless gesture mean so much to them?

Why did the heat of her palm make them dizzy? Why did their face flush? Why did they feel a sudden breathlessness they couldn’t explain away by the summer heat?

In truth, MC knew exactly why.

They had known it since the day Tamarack jumped out of a pile of leaves, giggling over having gotten the upperhand over the new kid, her hair glowing golden under the sunlight in a way that made her look so at home within the woods, MC could’ve sworn she was a fairy playing tricks on them.

Maybe they couldn’t name what they were feeling then, being too young to properly understand why the pretty girl that gave them affection so easily felt different from everyone else, but they were keenly aware of their feelings now, when they seemed to get more overwhelming by the day.

One day, they would gather enough courage to say something.

But that day wouldn’t be today, as they gently guide her inside, looking back to admire how her face seemed to redden even more at their touch and how soft her features looked when their eyes met.

extra

It’s an hour later when they’re sitting on the couch, Tamarack’s short legs streched over MC’s lap as they eat ice-cream, the newest Ariana Grande music video playing on the TV in one of the rare occasions MC managed to catch MTV playing music.

MC should be paying attention, they really should. Tamarack seems really engrossed in a story about the new piece she’s been practising on her cello, and how rude one of the violin girls was about her getting a note wrong when her violin was entirely out of tune the entire time, but the only thing MC can really focus on is how Tamarack smells like Aloe Vera gel and how when she’s snarking about annoying violin players, she rolls her eyes with a disdain Qiu could only dream about channelling, and it’s so cute it makes them fall in love with her all over again.

Qiu

“Ugh, I’m so hot.”

Mc whines, trying to walk a little faster to keep up with Qiu’s pace.

It was a terribly hot and humid day in the middle of the summer— one of those days where MC, usually, wouldn’t really bother trying to do anything more than melting on their couch.

Unfortunately for them, they had promised a week beforehand to join Qiu on the next outdoor movie session, which just happened to fall on the hottest day of summer.

Fun.

Well, realistically, they could’ve cancelled.

Qiu wouldn’t have minded it too much. They knew about MC’s aversion to heat, after all, and would’ve probably offered a good alternative or simply called another friend, who would be less annoying about being hot and sweaty.

But… It was Qiu they were talking about.

Qiu asked for their company, and even if they tried to sound really nonchalant about it, MC could tell that Qiu was excited and that this movie night meant a lot to them.

So MC would suck it up and do it for them. Even if they were hot, annoyed and could feel the sweat making their shirt cling to their body in a way they could only describe as uncomfortable.

“Love the confidence.”

Qiu says, without missing a beat, and MC doesn’t know it they should laugh or turn away and go home right now.

They end up deciding on rolling their eyes and hitting their arm playfully. Qiu laughs at their frustration, and it would be annoying if it the sound of their laugh wasn’t so endearing.

“Shut up.”

Mc says, but there’s no heat in it. They could never say it and mean it, and Qiu knows that.

Maybe that’s why they’re so smug all the time.

When they’re like this— walking together and teasing each other, Mc can almost pretend like they’re on a date.

That Qiu didn’t really mean to invite them to watch a movie as friends, but as something more. That the way they looked at MC wasn’t just out of fondness for a close friend, but as someone they loved in the way MC wanted to be loved.

But it’s not like they’d allow themselves to indulge too much in this fantasy. No. Qiu wouldn’t look at MC in the way they wanted Qiu, and it was too selfish to expect that of them.

Not when Qiu already didn’t rely on too many people. Their friendgroup was small and tight-knit and being included was a huge sign of their trust on MC.

Trust as a friend.

Best friend, maybe.

And MC was more than willing to pretend like it didn’t hurt them if it meant more days like this, where Qiu seemed so content and relaxed just by walking with MC in silence.

“We’re almost there.”

Qiu comments, breaking MC out of their reverie.

If they noticed MC staring at them, they’re merciful enough to not comment on it this time, which they’re immesefully grateful for. They don’t know if they have the mental capacity of dealing with more of Qiu’s teasing today without becoming a blushing mess.

MC can just see the entrance of the park when they feel the first raindrops. They freeze, and grab Qiu by the sleeve before they can take another step.

“Autumn… I think it’s going to rain.”

Their warning doesn’t come quick enough. Qiu looks at the MC as they feel the rain growing in intensity, and can just manage to start running before it starts pouring.

Of course. Summer showers always seemed to happen when it’s most inconvenient.

They’re soaking wet by the time they reach the park and manage to hide away in the closest structure with a roof— that being a bandstand, because of course the universe would present MC with a perfect romance-movie scenario when they’re already stupidly in love with their best friend who definitely doesn’t reciprocate their feelings.

“You think they’ll still show the movie?”

MC asks, a little hopeful and all too willing to break the silence and any treacherous trains of thought about how Qiu still managed to look pretty like this.

And how close they were, and how it would be just so easy to reach out and kiss them.

“I don’t think so.” Qiu answers, obviously annoyed by it. “The equipment must be wet— and the grass will be too. They might postpone it to another day.”

Mc agrees with their assessment, and they stand in silence for another moment, just watching the rain fall.

“I’m sorry we’ll miss your movie. I know you were excited to watch it.”

MC says, after a moment, and Qiu just shrugs, like it’s no big deal and disappointment isn’t etched on their face.

“It’s fine.” When Qiu and Mc’s eyes meet the disappointment seems to melt away in Qiu’s face, and they smile. It’s small, almost imperceptive, but MC knows it’s there and that they had another idea. “I think we’ll be here for a while… And we still have the food we brought.”

They hold up the picnic basket they were holding, and MC immediately understands what they’re hinting at.

“Ever the problem solver, huh?”

MC teases, and Qiu considers it a yes to their unasked question. Between both of them, they quickly set up their impromptu picnic, determined to still have a good time together, even if it wasn’t quite like they’d imagined it.

Extra

“You know, I’ve seen romance movies that start like this.” Qiu comments, smiling teasingly in a way that makes MC think that they know too much. They flush, looking away, not quite knowing how to respond to Qiu’s implication, and they’re too happy at their inaction. “You’re too cute.”

God, Qiu is going to kill them one of these days.

#writing the cul de sac trio in the summer just seems...... wrong #bee’s writing #our life 2 #our life now and forever #olnf #olnf hcs #our life headcanons #qiu lin #our life qiu #our life tamarack #tamarack baumann

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seokjinsonlyone · 3 months

Text

so i saw @jknoah talking about what states bts would be from if they were korean american and these kinds of topics are my bread and butter so i 100% had to weigh in

i agree that yoongi would be from queens like it just makes sense for him he'd be living his quiet little yoongi life stopping at the bodega on the corner for some snacks before checking in at school like an hour late bc he really does not care for it and end up leaving early to go work on some music or something he'd be really good at ducking truancy officers he’d probably end up getting a job at some underground speakeasy when he’s like 15 bc he’s so fire at piano and make a lot of odd friends but all those connections would be key to him ending up a producer

i also agree that jungkook would be from california but i see him being from long beach specifically there’s definitely a summer from his childhood where he remembers being at disney more than at home so it’s not even all the fun for him anymore but he has a cousin that works there so goes to hangout more than anything the beach is right there so he knows how to surf but he’d end up being in skate scene it starts off as long-boarding along the boardwalk but the more friends he gains the more he gets into the more intense trick driven skateboarding and that’s what he’s known for not necessarily for his skateboarding tho but for the videos he directs of others skating and that’s what he ends up getting famous for doing bigger projects maybe a movie or something and he soaks up that scene for a while but ends up going back to long-boarding in long beach

idk what it is about jin but he just reeks of old money??? but he’s also jin so i can see him being from like jacksonville florida his family got a big ole house down there and all the kids in school would love coming over but he doesn’t really care for the house so much as the backyard in the backyard is where he can be free and do and be whatever he wants it’s also where he and his friends stumble across a gator when they’re like 11-12 and instead of calling an adult to do something about it they come up with all kinds of insane things to get it out and almost get eaten this happens every time he finds a gator in his backyard while he doesn’t necessarily bask in the money all the time he does SOMEtime namely when they visit their vacation home in connecticut bc he loves him some winter sports he also likes the weekends he spends there where he and his ski friends go to the into the city and go wild (re: go to an arcade and eat pizza)

joon would 100% be from the dmv and i put that on everything like he belongs heeerreeee like if he wasn't from sk he would def be from like fairfax or arlington somewhere up near dc and he'd always always always be doing something bc everyone i know from the dc area is always doing something or going somewhere and if they not doing something or going somewhere it's just bc they just got back from somewhere or doing something and joon just has those vibes like a very active social life always with plans bc there's just so much to do and see a little bougie bc he's living the good life but not far removed from anyone by any means has all kinds of friends absolutely everywhere

tae would be from new york too i think but like yonkers and he'd be one of those annoying people who's entire personality would be the fact that they're from new york like he'd be going around in black forces and a red puffer coat thinking he's that guy i can't tell you why but he gives the vibes that all his friends would be dark skinned and he'd be like the token asian in the group his parents would own a hair store and whenever he had to go there for whatever reason whether his parents were making him work a shift or he had to drop something off or he just wanted to talk to his mommy whatever it is he'd most def hit on all the girls who shop there throw in some free edge control with they purchases or sumn 😭

hobi would be from houston and i cannot give you a good reason why like he just really seems like he'd have his own dance troupe in houston and he'd be living a nice little life that's like veiled from reality bc that is texas and like he got the vibes that all his friends would be latino and he'd just live everyday dancing and hanging out and would only be at best vaguely aware of global happenings but anyway his dance troupe would end up going viral on youtube and he'd get invited to be on the ellen show and then would end up moving to LA and would get with some dancers he meets there and apply to be on world of dance he'd place second and would eventually become a famous choreographer

so sorry to jimin but he really just seems like he would be from some hick town in the midwest that nobody knows nor wants to be in like i can see him being from wisconsin or like freaking nebraska he'd be the only asian kid until he's in high school where he would be 1 of 3 and would grow up having an ongoing identity crises bc of the lack of culture i can also see him in some sort of glee/hsm situation where he has to choose between being popular or doing something he loves like i'm sure it'd end up being a whole arc in his life and you'd hear about it on msnbc during his interview after winning the silver medal for the male freestyle in figure skating

#idk why there's so much back story but this is just how my mind works sksldsks #now if only i could write actual fic the way i wrote this smh #def need someone to further discuss this with #bts fanfic #bts

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socheckitout-mikey · 1 year

Note

If you’re still doing the outsiders, could you maybe do some hcs for Dallas going on his SOs family vacation? You can pick the location idc

ahhh this one was v interesting! i hope you enjoy reading what i came up with. i had sm fun writing this and all the chaos that exudes lmaoo. thanks for requesting! <3 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Dallas Winston Going on His S/o's Family Vacation Hc's:

° Let’s get one thing straight, Dally has never been on a vacation in his life. So when your parents suggested inviting him along, he thought you were just pulling his leg. No one’s parents had willingly wanted him to attend anything with them.

° “Man, you’re just shittin’ all over me today, aintcha?” Dally half grinned at you, a Coke in his hand as he sat across from you in that diner.

° “Naw I’m bein’ serious! They wantcha to come-,” You grinned at him.

° “Forreal?”

° “Forreal!”

° He’s in awe when he realises that you’re being straight with him. There’s no funny business going on. Practically has a permanent grin from ear to ear, man!

° Whether it’s to another town, city, state or country, he’s stoked!!! Feeling high as a kite on pure adrenaline, because let’s face it, Dally loves a good adventure. He’s not shy about exploring places and uncovering whatever kind of fun the environment has to offer. He’s like a bloodhound, getting into everything that he probably shouldn’t, but that doesn’t deter him! He’s Dallas Winston!

° Dally’s in his element okay? He enjoys the trip, making the most out of it. You remind him to be on his best behaviour, but he’s got that twinkle of mischief in his eyes, “Okay, sweetcheeks,” he grins. Oh boy does he make you regret saying those words!

° He does his best not to do anything in front of your parents that could get him arrested – especially in another country. The “don’t get caught” rule he has with the gang still applies. Yet, Dally’s gonna swipe a few good things from the hotel room.

° “Babe, what do you need a goddamn towel for?!” You snap at him, hands on your hips.

° “Have you ever showered at Bucks? Those towels are like goddamn sandpaper!” He retorts back with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. “Let me live a little here!”

° “They’re gonna charge my parents-,”

° “To hell they will!”

° “Is that shampoo?!”

° “Quit lookin’ through my shit, snoopy!”

° Chaos ensues because it’s Dallas lmaoo!

° He gives the cleaning lady a fright one morning by prancing out of the bathroom butt naked. Y’all heard the screaming from down the hall. You know because Dally’s hardly clutching a towel around his waist as he watches the lady sprint down the hallway, “Next time knock, grandma!” followed by his characteristic hyena laugh.

° He smokes in his room – or at least with the window open. He doesn’t care about hotel policies. He thinks they can kiss his ass for all he cares. You reprimand him a few times about it, but he just sasses back, “I got the window open don’t I?” before pulling you into his lap on the chair he’s sitting in by the window.

° If y’all are somewhere tropical, he gets the worst sunburn of his life. And he thought Oklahoma was bad? Fdsijfhdusjfsdji you’re highkey a big shit and five star his back. Let’s just say he chased you round the pool and threw you in once he caught you.

° Dw he flushes the toilet when you’re showering as further pay back.

° Tries to fight a guy who gave you the bedroom eyes when you were in your swimsuit. Broke his nose and everything! Surprisingly your dad was on his side.

° Speaking of pools. If there is one, you bet your ass Dallas is in it. It’s probably how he acquired his sunburn. He’s also cannonballing into it whenever some rich uppity family’s are lounging round pool side. It’s a masterpiece, I promise!

° I cannot tell you how many times you and Dallas got drunk asf! Ya’ll probs shouldn’t have, but Dallas is a natural at acting not drunk: You on the other hand… not so much.

° Can’t forget how many times Dallas sneaks into your room at night. Whether it’s an elaborate pathway to your door or scaling up the side of a building – both of which almost result in his imminent death. He’s a daredevil and will do it all! He’s soft for you deep down, just wants to spend some time with you when no one else is looking. Just so he can be himself: He’s still an asshole though ndufjdsdjk.

° “Y’know it’s kinda cool you took me along,” He grins against your hairline.

° “Only kinda?” You giggle against his neck.

° “I’m takin’ points off for five starin’ me on day two.”

° “You’re just bitter coz you got roasted before me.”

° “Hey, that toilet over in the other room’s kinda lookin’ like it wants your face in it.” He laughs, only half meaning his threat.

° “Oh, to be swirlied by Dallas Winston!” You gasp, sitting up straight and putting a hand on your heart, “I’m so honoured!”

° “You’re so goddamn dramatic.” He laughs, patting your thigh. “Don’t make me follow through to shut you up.”

° “Is that a promise or threat?” You grin, leaning closer to him.

° “Only one way to find out…” He murmurs against your lips.

° Can't forget the golden moment when Dallas put a tie around your doorknob as a prank, which resulted in your parents grounding you bc of the deeper meaning bcfuiebifcihcbieyfby. That's what you get for trying to stop him stealing that ultrasoft bathrobe from his room.

° Even if it’s somewhere cold, Dallas doesn’t care! He’ll be snowboarding, skiing and doing whatever else! Even instigating snowball fights. You’ll catch him with melting snow dripping from his beautiful hair, slipping down his forehead as he beams brightly. Looks younger too, less hard and rough. That’s your Dallas.

° You guys have a lot of cute moments, especially walking off in your own direction at the end of the day. You guys will go for some cokes at a local restaurant, maybe some food. His eyes are alight, and although he isn't the softest, you can tell he loves you in his own way. It's his actions that shine brighter, but they can be hard to miss. If you don't realise, his kisses will seal the deal!

° If there are horses, cars or bikes involved, he's in his element. Probably being risky too, which makes you freak out ngl! He's fine tho, and a little injury won't deter him either. Though you remind him, it's a vacation, not a date with death!

° By some miracle, Dallas manages to keep the forbidden things he does behind everyone’s back and doesn’t get caught. He comes away with some souvenirs and interesting stories to give to and tell the gang when he returns to Tulsa. Even they note how happy he is – buzzing to be exact!

° Dallas doesn’t just bond with you, but also your family. Maybe everyone else doesn’t like him quite the way that you do, but they see a different side to him that they don’t get to see back home. Like how Dally didn’t pick on your younger sibling as much or opened the doors a little more for your mother. This vacation benefits everyone positively.

° Maybe it even makes Dallas believe that the world isn’t so rotten. That some people actually see the good in him that he believed had died out so long ago. He doesn’t really outright thank you for taking him along, but you see it in those mischievous eyes: Gratitude. If Dallas Winston could love anybody, it’d be you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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#dallaswinston #dallas winston #dallas winston imagines #dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders dallas winston #the outsiders dallas winston imagines #the outsiders dallas winston headcanons #the outsiders dallas winston x reader #i hope that you enjoyed this!

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weepingfromacedartree · 6 months

Text

Ten Milestones: Travelling Together

Hi friends!!!

New chapter up for anyone interested! (It's a big one.)

CW: alcohol // drinking to excess

In an instant, Penelope knows that this one will be good. (Or even more likely — bad.)

Colin’s smile gleams with the reflection of his phone screen. He’s practically giddy when he recites the text in front of him.

“Number Five: Travelling Together. Nothing tests a relationship quite like taking it out of its typical environment. Just like marriage, there will be many highs and lows on your first trip as a couple. For as fun and exciting as a vacation may be, there are a million things that could go wrong during your time away from home. A holiday away with your partner will test how you handle communication, problem-solving, compromise, and more. If you are with the right person, even the most disastrous trips will be worth it.”

At those last few words, Penelope cannot help but laugh.

“Too bad I’m dating a seasoned traveller who always handles our holiday plans perfectly. If only something went wrong on one of our trips; now, we’ll never know how we react to disaster abroad.”

“Yeah.” Colin rolls his eyes, giddiness already abandoned. “If only.”

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

Five Years Earlier: June 6th, 2018

Relationship Status: Not Dating

꙳

Day 0

Over the course of the last three years, finding Colin Bridgerton in a London pub has become an exceedingly rare feat. He spent most of that time in cities with different time zones than this one, and even his brief trips home left him little time for leisurely activities. This particular break from his travels, though longer than usual, has been as busy as ever.

He arrived back in London on April 7th. He was actually meant to remain in New York for two more weeks, but changed his plans at the last minute. This choice was fueled by a variety of reasons, one of the most salient being his fears of missing his first nephew’s birth, had he come early. In the end, Auggie showed up two days late, but Colin couldn’t complain about having the extra time at home.

The last two months were busy. Colin and Benedict found a flat together in Bloomsbury. (Colin needed somewhere other than his mum’s place to stay during his trips home. Benedict needed out of a toxic roommates-with-benefits situation he had found himself in.) Francesca graduated from Edinburgh. Penelope completed her postgraduate degree at UCL. Colin signed a freelance contract with a local travel magazine. Simon announced his upcoming Parliament campaign. Hyacinth starred in a surprisingly bloody musical production of Carrie. Just last night, Anthony informed Colin and Benedict of his plans to propose to his girlfriend Kate later this summer. (Gregory had been excluded from that conversation due to his abysmal track record at keeping secrets.)

Life in London has been so busy these last two months that this particular trip to the pub had to be rescheduled three times. But they’re here now, and Colin supposes that’s all that matters.

“I don’t have to get a beer, do I?”

Penelope is standing right beside him, and yet she has to practically scream in order to be heard. For noon on a Wednesday, the pub is surprisingly packed.

Colin looks around, taking in the pub’s antique style and limited selection of bottles and taps on the back wall.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Even water might be out of the question.”

Penelope doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, she pulls a face expressing her disappointment. A distinctive “V” forms in the centre of her forehead, at which Colin can only laugh.

“Why would you choose this place if you loathe the taste of beer? We’re celebrating you, in case you forgot.”

Penelope keeps her eyes trained forward, as though she’s searching for something in the darkest corner of this room. With a deadly serious tone, she tells him, “They have the best fish and chips in Mayfair. If I go thirsty, so be it.”

Colin laughs again, but nods in agreement. She has a point.

While away on his travels, he misses his family and friends more than anything else. He would be lying if he said proper fish and chips wasn’t a close third.

Penelope opens her mouth to say something else, but shuts it when she sees the hostess re-emerge before them. She beckons them to follow her, then leads them to a particularly dimly lit booth in the back of the room.

“What can I get ya both to drink?”

Penelope opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, Colin clears his throat.

“Do you have anything other than beer available? Sorry — I know. I just loathe the taste of it. It always tastes like grass to —”

His words stop short when the tip of Penelope’s trainer collides with his shin. When he looks over, he finds that her eyes are verging on vengeful; he has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from giggling.

“We got vodka,” the waitress supplies skeptically. With knitted eyebrows, she looks to the bar over her shoulder. “I think.”

“Brilliant. Two vodka sodas, then.”

Penelope still appears cross when he looks over to her again. Thankfully, her frown is all but abandoned by the time the waitress returns with their drinks.

“To UCL.” He raises his glass. “And to those determined and lucky enough to survive it.”

After huffing out a single laugh, Penelope rolls her eyes.

“I graduated. I didn’t survive the Great War.” Before he can think up another quip, she taps her glass against his. “But thank you.”

“So, now that you’re free from the constraints of higher education… Any plans for the summer?”

Penelope shrugs, raising her glass to her lips.

“Not really. Just figuring out what to do next, now that uni’s over.”

“Next?” Colin echoes, genuinely confused. “What happened to working at Danbury’s magazine?”

“That’s not a done deal.” She shrugs again. “My final interview was yesterday, and I haven’t heard back from them yet. If I don’t get it —”

“You will. Obviously.”

Penelope picks up her glass, and Colin watches as her eyes roll from over the top of it. She takes a sip that drains about half her cup.

“Not necessar—”

“Pen, they would be mental not to hire you. The job is yours for the taking.”

Something new passes on Penelope’s face for a moment. Doubt, maybe. Or maybe it’s curiosity. In a brighter light, maybe Colin would be able to read her better.

“And what makes you so confident in that conclusion?”

“Because you’re accomplished, brilliant, and perfect for the job.” He takes a sip of his own drink, short and syrupy sweet. “Plus, you’ve known the CEO since you were born. That always helps.”

Penelope snorts in spite of herself.

“I pray nepotism is not the determining factor in their decision.”

“We both know you’re more than qualified. Does it matter what the determining factor is in a foregone conclusion?”

Penelope answers his question with nothing more than a simple shrug.

“And what of your plans for the summer?” she asks in a shameless attempt to change the subject. To take the spotlight off herself. “It’s unlike you to stay grounded at home this long.”

“Disappointed in the sudden lack of content on my blog?”

That statement was meant to be lighthearted, but when spoken aloud, Colin can’t help but detect an edge of bitterness to his own voice. If Penelope hears it too, she doesn’t let on. She laughs.

“No. As much as I love your updates, I can’t say I’m ‘disappointed’ in having you home a little longer than usual. I just thought you would be restless by now.”

“A bit. But you know… That’s inevitable.”

Penelope’s face shifts again. Even in the shadows, Colin can tell she does not know what he means.

“After three years of doing it nonstop, I’ve come to realise that the best parts of travel are the coming and the going. Arriving in a new location is always exciting and full of a million different possibilities, but inevitably that excitement fades away. No matter how fulfilling your experiences are in that place, there will always, inevitably come a time when you’re ready to leave. When you’re reminded that the place you’re in isn’t home — that your time there is up. Then you return home, and it’s refreshing and comfortable, and then it’s not. Life gets tedious and you grow restless and that inevitable cycle starts anew.”

Colin looks down at his drink, already growing watery due to the surplus of ice cubes in the cocktail. When he looks back up at Penelope, her eyes have grown even softer than usual.

“But I have spent far too much time away from home these past few years. I can stand a bit of restlessness for a little while longer.” He takes another sip of his drink. “Especially if it means having these sorts of conversations with you in a pub instead of over voicemail.”

Penelope doesn’t say anything in response to that. Her lips twist into a sort of smile, scrunched together and pulled to the side. When her lips finally part, she asks, “So when are you going again?”

Colin grimaces, suddenly struck by the fact that the date of his next flight is not all too far away. And due to the new contract, he couldn’t delay it even if he wanted to.

“About two weeks. Venice first, then I’ll be travelling around Italy for the rest of the summer.”

“That sounds exciting,” Penelope offers. There’s a far less complicated, albeit noticeably reserved smile on her lips.

“Yeah. Of course.”

It grows quiet between them for a second longer than Colin deems comfortable. He jerks his head to the side, glancing around the increasingly overcrowded pub. Though the room around them remains quite loud, he can clearly hear the growl of his own stomach above the chaos.

“Where the bloody hell is our food?”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Thirteen minutes later, two orders of fish and chips arrive at their table in the back of the pub. One minute after that, Penelope nearly chokes on a piece of beer-battered haddock when her phone starts buzzing in her pocket. Seven minutes after that, she hangs up and looks over to Colin. His smile is even bigger than hers.

“I fucking told you, Featherington.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, an unconscious attempt to wipe the grin off her face. Her happiness is so overwhelming that it feels as though it’s pouring out of her.

“When do you start?”

“Two weeks,” she barely manages to get out between taut lips.

“That’s —” Colin lets out a shaky, happy breath. “We should celebrate,” he tells her after a moment.

Penelope barely registers his words before letting out another laugh and raising her empty glass.

“We’re already celebrating, in case you forgot.”

Colin raises his own drink (also empty and awaiting a refill) and clinks it against the one aloft in her hand.

“In case you forgot, we’re celebrating your graduation. Landing your dream job deserves its own celebration.”

Finally, Penelope’s smile begins to drop. Her eyes dart to the bar on the other side of the room.

“We already ordered another round. We can make another toa—”

“No, Pen. A proper celebration.”

“Wha—”

“You’re the newest columnist at Queenmaker Magazine. This is amazing — fucking massive, Pen! We should do something big to honour it.”

Penelope looks away from him again. This time, to the phone that has been gripped in her right hand ever since she accepted her dream job. She sets it face down on the table before meeting his eye again.

“And what ‘big’ thing do you have in mind?”

A few seconds pass before Colin answers her question. In that time, his lips form into a troubling smirk.

“Let’s leave. Take a trip out of the city. Or better yet, the country.”

Penelope also takes a few seconds to respond.

“What?!”

“I said, w—”

“I heard you, Colin,” she interrupts. “I just don’t understand. Didn’t you just say you want to stay rooted in London until your Venice trip?”

Colin considers her words for a few seconds, breaking her gaze to stare up at the ceiling in recollection.

“That’s not what I said at all,” he eventually replies. “Do —”

“Colin, I —”

“— you want me to call up Danbury and tell her how unfairly her promising new journalist just misquoted —”

“I’m being seri—”

“I’m being serious, Pen! You’re willfully ignoring my po—”

“There’s no time to plan a —”

“You just told me that you have no plans for the next few weeks. You know, save for landing the job that you just landed. Now that your summer is free, you can finally —”

Penelope has argued with Colin before. Not as often as she does with Eloise, but this is far from their first dispute. Usually though, he will at least let her get a full sentence in before interrupting. Usually, he is not quite this vexing.

“Good god, Colin! You’re leaving for Venice in two weeks. Which — in case you forgot — also happens to be the same time I start working at the magazine. Temporarily ignoring the fact that you just told me you want to stay in London in the meantime, there is no time for us to plan out — or actually go on — such an impromptu trip. It’s impossible.”

It’s only after Penelope successfully gets all her intended words out that she realises Colin’s demeanour has completely changed. The tips of his ears are tinged red. His left hand is covering the lower half of his face. He’s barely holding in a laugh. His eyes are round and darting to the side.

When Penelope follows his gaze, she finds that their waitress has returned. Wide-eyed, she silently sets down two glasses (a Guinness for him and another vodka soda for her), then disappears back into the crowd. Once she’s out of sight, Colin bursts out laughing and Penelope takes a generous gulp of her cocktail.

“As I was trying to tell you,” he continues, once the laughter has left his system, “I did not say I want to remain planted in London for the next two weeks. If anything, I was torn between my desires to stay and to go.”

Colin’s lips stop moving. It takes Penelope a few moments to realise that means he has graciously given her the floor to speak.

“I understand that,” she says slowly, as if speaking to a child. “I also understand that you decided to stay in the end. That you’ve spent too much time away from your family as it is.”

Colin laughs — short and sharp.

“Wrong again. Given your line of work, I would expect you to pay closer attention to people’s words, Pen.”

Penelope opens her mouth, then shuts it just as quickly. If she says anything, it will undoubtedly be delivered through a scream; she doesn’t have enough alcohol in her system to justify doing so in such a public setting.

“I didn’t say anything about my family,” he reminds her. “The only person I mentioned wanting to stay in London for is you.”

And just like that, something new rises in Penelope’s chest, swiftly killing the annoyance that burned inside of her. She doesn’t have the words to try and name it. She feels at a loss for words entirely; her lips remain paralyzed as Colin watches her in wait.

It only takes him a few seconds to realise she has nothing to say.

“At some point in the last hour, the scales have tipped towards leaving. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe you have any plans tying you to London over the next few days. So, if I am correct and there is nothing stopping us from leaving… Let’s go.”

Penelope doesn’t think there is a single person on this planet that she knows as well as Colin Bridgerton. After all, she spent the first sixteen years of her life studying him with the same insistence and fervour that a nun does a bible. (And the last seven inspecting him with the same shame and compulsion that an addict does their vice.) And yet, there are still times when he surprises her.

No. ‘Surprises’ isn’t the right word. She knows Colin has a talent for making the world around him appear far simpler than it really is. To bend the light in such a way that makes you see the world that way too — even if just for a moment.

There are still times when it overwhelms her.

“You make dropping everything and skipping town sound easy,” she eventually manages to say.

“Because it is. Do it once and you’ll realise just how easy it is. Especially when you have an expert like me involved in the planning.”

Something about that last sentence sparks a realisation in Penelope’s brain.

This is a game. Or, it could be.

Penelope sits up and sets her shoulders squarely.

“Fine. But I have a few rules.”

“Go on,” Colin encourages, clearly intrigued.

“1) I can’t be gone for the next two weeks. I need to be back by early next week. 2) I don’t want to leave the continent, so no surprise trips to Antarctica. 3) You have a max budget of £500 for transportation and housing — for each of us. If you can find something that fits my requirements, we can go on a trip together.”

Wasting not a single second, Colin whips out his phone from his back pocket. His smile gleams with the reflection of his screen. Excitedly, he mutters, “‘If’ I can meet your requirements? It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

But Penelope does know Colin. She knows he loves these sorts of challenges. That he thrives under this sort of friendly pressure. And while she could certainly afford to spend more than £500 on travel and a hotel, she’s intrigued to see what he can come up with when given such a budget. (And fears what he might come up with when given anything more.)

As Colin stares intently at his phone, Penelope feels her own demeanour start to shift. Before, she had been too distracted by the perceived impossibility of the offer to give it a second thought. But when she does…

It’s tempting. It’s almost certainly a bad idea, but it’s tempting for all the same reasons.

Though they speak on a daily basis, Colin and Penelope have spent so little time actually together over the last seven years. Even during his hiatus at home over the last two months, they spent more time talking on a phone than they did in person. To spend a few days with Colin and only Colin…

It’s tempting. It’s almost certainly a bad idea, but —

“Booked,” Colin announces, maybe 30 seconds after picking up his phone.

“What — already?”

“Yup. £497 each. We leave tomorrow and fly home on Monday.”

“‘Fly?’” she echos. Unsure if she should be more excited or scared, she asks, “Where are we going, exactly?”

“Costa Brava.” Colin says these words casually, in the same way Penelope would expect him to say “Brighton.”

“Costa Brava… as in Catalonia?”

“No, the Costa Brava in Wales.”

He laughs sarcastically. Triumphantly.

“Yes, Catalonia.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Day 1

Penelope Featherington doesn’t have much experience with airports. She flew to Ireland a few times when she was a kid, but those trips fell off right around the time she started secondary school. She’s met or dropped off Colin at Heathrow a few times over the last three years, but rarely stepped inside on any of those occasions. She could count the total number of times she’s been in or around an airport on two hands.

Well, usually she could. Right now, her hands are too occupied wringing together incessantly to count imaginary numbers.

She is standing by a wall of windows, body facing the planes taxied outside. Her head is turned to the side, towards the man who dragged her here today. (Metaphorically. Literally, he got them both an Uber.)

Colin is by the stewardess desk, talking to the two women stationed at the gate. He’s just out of earshot, so Penelope can’t tell what it is that he’s saying. But whatever it is, it’s charming. She can tell by the way both women’s lips curl as he speaks to them.

Penelope doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. She’s flown on planes before — a decade ago, but still.

She shouldn’t be nervous about a two-hour plane ride. She shouldn’t be nervous about a few days in paradise. She shouldn’t be nervous about how so much can change in — she checks her phone — 22 hours.

She should be more like Colin; he’s never nervous about anything.

“Good news,” he tells her, walking up with two freshly printed tickets. “I got us a free upgrade.”

“Really?” she asks. Although really, she should have known. He got them two roundtrip tickets at the last minute for £97 each. Suffice to say, they were not very good seats. Penelope couldn’t have cared less, but Colin…

Before he can so much as nod, she steals one of the tickets from between his fingers. She gasps.

“How the hell did you manage to turn two middle economy seats into two first class seats?!”

“Jesus Pen, calm down,” he orders through a laugh. “We’re on holiday, remember?”

Before she can let out another huff, Colin mumbles something about being a “frequent flyer,” then turns his attention to the phone in his hand. Though Penelope would love to press him further on the subject, he magically receives a phone call from his mum and steps away to take it. He only hangs up when the flight attendants announce that it is time for them to board.

“Did your mum —”

“Come on. Don’t want to miss our flight, now do we?”

“Wha—”

With that, Colin puts away his phone and grabs the carry-on at Penelope’s feet.

“You don’t have to —”

“I got it, Pen,” he says nonchalantly. Then, without warning, he grabs her left hand and drags her towards the gate.

This is far from the first time that Colin has grabbed her hand over the course of their friendship, but this specific occurrence strikes Penelope as strange. His whole demeanour suddenly seems off; she would ask him about it, if he weren’t hauling them towards the plane like it’s threatening to take off without them.

His strange behaviour doesn’t cease as they continue forward. He practically pushes her past the flight attendant as soon as their tickets scan. His grip on her left hand only tightens as they walk down the boarding bridge. She tries to pull out of it when they step onto the plane and make their way through the cramped corner with the other flight attendants, but he just won’t let go. Through it all, she feels like a dog on a leash.

Colin only drops her hand after they find their seats, requiring both his hands to place their baggage in the overhead bins.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Penelope hisses once they settle in. She crosses her arms in front of her chest, out of Colin’s reach.

“Hmm?”

He shoots her a pleasantly oblivious expression, as if he genuinely cannot fathom why she would question his behaviour.

“You’re acting weird.”

“No, I’m acting excited. We’re on hol—”

“Holiday,” she interrupts. “Yes, I remember.”

“Good.” He smirks. “I was beginning to think you forgot.”

Penelope almost makes a kidnapping joke, then remembers that she’s currently sitting in a first class cabin and thinks better of it. Instead, she pulls a book out of her purse and ignores Colin completely. She reads three pages before he starts acting weird again.

Keeping his eyes suspiciously pointed at the front of the plane, Colin leans over and whispers, “Okay I may have lied a little bit.”

“What —”

“Well, a little to you. I lied quite a lot to the flight attendants.”

Penelope remains quiet for a moment. She really, really doesn’t want to ask, but…

“What the hell did you do?”

He meets her gaze again. His eyes look just as guilty as they do blue.

Dropping his voice to a whisper, he says, “I may have implied that we’re on our honeymoon.”

For a moment, Penelope doesn’t know if she heard him right. There’s a sudden ringing in her ears, but surely —

“What?!” she practically yells. “You ‘implied’ that we’re married?!”

“Yes.” There’s a sudden edge of annoyance in his voice and in that look in his eye — a reaction Penelope cannot even begin to fathom is warranted from him under the circumstances. “Then I remembered that I’m not wearing a wedding ring and that our two random middle seats in the back of the plane might be a bit of a red flag. So —”

“You think?!” Penelope cannot help but interrupt.

“Yes. So I clarified that we’re technically on our way to Catalonia to elope and —”

His words stop short and his eyes cast downward. They land on her left hand. Just as one could expect from a chronically single 23-year-old, it is quite bare.

“You don’t happen to have anything that could pass for an engagement ring, do you?”

“No, Colin. I do not happen to have an engagement ring on me. Seeing as I am not engaged!”

Though she tries to keep her words at a relatively low volume, she can tell that the boarding passengers to their left are not allowing their argument to go unnoticed. A small child snickers at them as he walks past.

“I’m sorry,” Colin whispers, but there’s a petulance in his voice that undermines any attempt at an actual apology. “I just wanted to see if they could switch our seats so we could sit together. I didn’t expect them to upgrade us — certainly not to first class. But apparently there was an actual newlywed couple that cancelled at the last minute. Now…”

When his voice trails off, Colin’s eyes shoot to the front of the cabin again.

“Now I fear they’ll kick us off the plane if you don’t go along with the bit.”

Penelope, who has apparently lost all ability to whisper, shrieks: “The ‘bit?!’”

Another small child passes them in the aisle. This one looks more scared than amused.

“We’ve come this far, Pen,” Colin whispers, seemingly unperturbed by her increasing panic. “Let's not risk it all now.”

Penelope bites down on her lip. She fears what she might say if her teeth ever unclench.

All of this is risky behaviour — starting with his proposition at the pub and ending with this fucking “bit.” And Penelope has gone along with all of it up until now. After so many years of carefully keeping him at a distance (both physically and emotionally), she had agreed to a trip she knew would entail more time by Colin’s side than she could handle. She knew this was risky from the start. She had braced herself for disaster. But this…

This is overwhelming. Pretending to be engaged to the person she loved, let go of, then — despite her best efforts — continues to love so ardently…

It’s too much for her to —

“Shit.”

Colin’s whispered expletive brings Penelope out of a thought spiral of massive proportions. Her teeth unclench. Her eyes look to him, then to the spot where his are pointed. The flight attendant who had scanned their tickets at the gate is walking over with two champagne glasses in hand.

“Shit.”

“Just follow my lead,” Colin whispers, then covers her left hand with his right. It takes everything in her to resist the urge to interlock their fingers and sink her nails in deep.

The flight attendant congratulates them on the wedding and hands them the little plastic flutes. Penelope (who had taken Colin’s instructions to mean “just sit there and let me do the talking”) extends her right arm across her body and silently accepts the champagne. If the flight attendant notices the awkwardness of her gesture, she doesn’t let on; she’s likely too distracted by whatever charming nonsense Colin is currently feeding her to push them past any remaining red flags in their story.

Penelope pours the entire flute down her throat before the woman disappears down the aisle.

“I’m going to kill you,” Penelope promises through a whisper. Her words don’t have any bite left in them, though. She simply sounds tired.

Before Colin can say anything, Penelope tunes him out with the headphones she had stashed in her purse. She doesn’t make it through the first verse before he pinches the little white cord and tugs the left bud out.

“Why are you so mad at me?” he asks, his voice equal parts annoyance and concern. “I apologise for putting you on the spot, but I don’t see why it is such a big deal. Am I really so awful that just pretending to be my wife could warrant this level of disgust?”

Penelope’s teeth sink down on her bottom lip yet again.

She wants to scream. She wants to point out his hypocrisy — to say it out loud. That he can announce to an entire party that he would never date her in a million years, but she can’t complain about being forced to play his pretend wife for the sake of a stranger.

But she can’t say any of that out loud, now can she? Not without unravelling everything else — the fragile net she has spun to maintain their friendship these last few years.

Pouring all of the willpower left in her body into a single smile…

“Don’t you mean your pretend fiancée? According to the backstory you crafted, I am not your pretend wife yet. I could still leave you at the pretend altar and live the rest of my life with a prince in the Catalonian mountainside.”

Thankfully, her facade seems to work. Colin laughs.

“I suppose that’s your prerogative. I don’t know how many princes are left in Catalonia these days, though.”

“Plenty of pretend princes, though.”

Penelope puts her headphones back in. She doesn’t hear the flight attendants’ instructions on what to do in the case of disaster. She ignores Colin’s sidelong glances when they begin to taxi. She closes her eyes when the engines rumble to life and the wheels below them pick up speed. She feels the plane lift into nothingness and tries her hardest to forget where she is. She moves her hand, intent on wrapping her fingers around the cool, silver divider between her and —

Suddenly, Colin’s hand is in hers again. Not covering it. Just holding on.

Any anger left in Penelope melts away. She squeezes the palm in hers gently.

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Day 2

“I never knew the ocean could be this blue. Not in real life.”

In the past 24 hours, Penelope has made some variation of this comment to Colin at least a dozen times. In fairness, the water is insanely blue here. The weather is perfect. Everywhere you look, there’s something breathtaking and unimaginable to comment on. And like he always does when they’re together, Colin hangs on to her every word.

Right now, they’re walking along the edges of the Ruins of Empúries — a site Colin recommended they visit due to its history and beautiful views. To their left lies the ocean, as blue and breathtaking as it ever was. To their right lies the ruins — the archaeological remnants of two ancient cities. For the last hour, Colin has been playing the part of tour guide, filling the air with random pieces of trivia on the Greek and Roman settlements.

(Thankfully, Penelope doesn’t seem to mind the noise.)

“The name comes from the word ‘emporium,’ which means ‘market.’ Before the Second Punic War, the Greek traders thrived here. They set up ports on the beaches, then sold all sorts of goods here for about 300 years.”

Penelope stops walking and pulls out her phone. She points the camera in the direction of a nearby stonewall, then chuckles.

“What?” Colin asks after a moment, desperately wanting to be let in on the joke.

“Nothing.” She places her phone back in her pocket. “It’s just crazy to think about all that time. In 200 BC, someone laid these stones down in this particular way, just so I could take a picture of them with an iPhone two thousand years later.”

Very suddenly, a laugh hits Colin so hard that he has to place a cautionary hand on Penelope’s shoulder, so as not to risk doubling over and destroying this piece of history forever.

“Thank god for the Greeks,” he says through a giggle. “Building such an innovative, thriving marketplace, just so Penelope Featherington could take a picture of its carcass two millennia later.”

Penelope laughs too, though hers is more embarrassed than unrestrained.

“That came out wro—” she starts, but her words are interrupted by the sound of something high-pitched behind them.

Colin turns around. Penelope jumps. A teenage girl with hair the colour of butter stands behind them, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

“Oh Christ, sorry! I just —” The girl’s eyes settle on his, squinting. “Are you Colin Bridgerton?”

Thoroughly confused, Colin gives the girl a quick once over. She has pink-tinted Ray Bans resting on the crown of her head. She has a gold chain around her neck with the letter “L” dangling off it. She’s wearing a burgundy “Oakham Hall” t-shirt, which is tucked into her jean shorts. He’s searching for any little detail that might clue him in on this girl’s identity; he comes up empty.

“Um, yes. And, sorry — who are you?”

“No one. I mean —” She laughs. “My name is Hermione. I just meant that you don’t know me. I’m a huge fan of yours, though. I, like, love your Instagram.”

Instantly, Colin’s eyes glance down and to the side, because of course this would happen with Penelope standing right next to him.

Over the last three years, Colin’s work has accumulated more of a following than he could have predicted at the start. Between his blog, Instagram, and occasional freelance work, he has built somewhat of a recognizable name for himself. However, given the type of content he produces, his face is not quite so recognizable.

Not once in three years has a fan picked him out of a crowd in public. Until now, of course.

“Lovely to meet you, Hermione.” Colin leans forward and offers his hand for her to shake. Though he is thoroughly baffled by this encounter happening in the first place, he does his best to not allow such skepticism bleed through to his voice. “It’s so nice to hear you enjoy my stuff.”

“Oh, I do! You go to the most wonderful places and write about them so beautifully! I never get to travel. Well —” She laughs. “Except now, of course. But usually, I just live vicariously through your posts.”

Colin, suddenly filled to the brim with an emotion he can’t quite name, does not know how to respond to the teenager’s words. His first instinct is denial, but Penelope speaks up from beside him before he can open his mouth to express such a thing.

“I’m the same way. I’m not sure I would have made it out of uni with my sanity intact if it weren’t for his blog. Sometimes, a bit of escapism is key.”

Hermione smiles at Penelope’s words, but as soon as she stops speaking, the girl’s eyes go wide.

“Oh! How rude of me. I just realised I never asked for your name.”

“Oh, please,” she chuckles softly. “Don’t apologise. My name is Penelope.”

The smile returns to Hermione’s face. Her eyes dart back and forth between him and Penelope. Before she has the chance to ask…

“Pen and I have known each other forever. She edits all of my posts, actually. So if you enjoy my stuff, you should really be thanking her. She’s more miracle worker than editor. I mean — you should see the bullshit I type up before she spins it into something readable.”

Penelope glances up at Colin with a wry smile on her face. Through gritted teeth, she says, “I’ve never known you to be so humble.”

Colin laughs just as Hermione asks, “Oh! Do you two always travel together? I never really thought about it, but I suppose I assumed that you travel solo.”

“No,” Colin answers. “I’m always trying to get Pen to abandon her responsibilities and run off with me somewhere, but you know…”

When he looks down to Penelope, there’s a very confusing look on her face.

“I, um —”

“You assumed correctly,” Penelope cuts in, setting her gaze back on the girl in front of them. “He always travels alone. This trip is an exception.”

Before Colin can say anything else, Penelope steps away from him and towards Hermione. “I can take a picture of you two together,” she offers the girl. “If you like.”

“That’s so nice, thank —” Hermione cuts herself off and looks back at Colin. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”

“Yes. Of course.”

He nods his head to indicate that Hermione should stand next to him. She does, and just as Penelope lifts the phone to take their picture, she chuckles nervously and says, “Sorry for being so weird. I live in the middle of nowhere; I never see famous people out in public like this.”

At the same exact moment that Penelope presses down and takes their photo, Colin unwittingly pulls a face. (How else is he supposed to react to someone saying that?) Thankfully, Penelope notices and, stifling a sudden plight of laughter, continues snapping photos until she gets something acceptable.

When Hermione receives her phone back, she seems pleased with the results. Smiling, she looks over to Colin and thanks him for the photos. Then, without a single ounce of hesitation…

“Do you want me to take one of you and your girlfriend?”

Though that last word may be incorrect, Colin doesn’t see the point in correcting a random stranger on such minor terminology. But at the very same moment that he answers “Yes” to the question that was asked, Penelope answers “No” to the one that wasn’t.

“We are not dating,” she clarifies at the very same moment that he says, “We would love a photo, thanks.”

Before she can say another word, Colin hands Hermione his phone and pulls Penelope into his side.

After so many years of friendship, there are certain routines that naturally form between two people. Movements that flow between them, automatic from so much practice over time. For example, when Penelope and Colin take a picture together, his hand always goes to her side while hers always goes to his back. Always.

Until now.

While Colin’s hand does land on Penelope’s waist, both of hers twist together down her front. Where she usually leans into him, she stands straight. And while she technically has a smile on her face, it’s not the one he’s used to seeing in their photos together; it’s strained at the edges.

When it’s all over, Penelope removes herself from the embrace, Hermione says goodbye, and Colin wonders what the hell just happened. He briefly considers brushing it all aside and just resuming his tour guide responsibilities, but can’t seem to find the words.

He’s too annoyed.

He’s been annoyed since the moment Penelope said “No.” Since she said that word in that emphatic, decisive way — as if clarifying the true nature of their relationship to a stranger was the most important thing in the world to her. As if being mistaken as his girlfriend was a fate worse than death. As if —

“So…” Penelope says suddenly, her voice noticeably lighter than it had been a moment ago. “How does it feel to be ‘famous?’”

With that, she steps back onto the path and resumes their trek forward. As he always tends to do, Colin follows close behind.

“Don’t start with me, Featherington,” he warns, trying his hardest to match her tone of voice.

“Oh, come on. She was sweet.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t sweet. She simply misspoke about the ‘famous’ bit.”

“Well —”

“I’m serious, Pen. That has literally never happened before. Not once in three years has anyone ever recognised me in public. I mean — she probably only noticed me because of you.”

Still walking right beside him, Penelope cranes her head and throws him a confused look.

“What are you talking about? She didn’t know who I was.”

“Well, no. But…” Smirking, Colin reaches over and flicks a strand of red hair off her shoulder. “This tends to get people’s attention. I, on the other hand, am rather unassuming. It’s —”

Penelope scoffs, interrupting him.

“You are not ‘unassuming.’ You’re so… tall. I find it hard to believe you go unnoticed in a crowd.”

Colin shrugs. He tries to examine another strand of her hair, but Penelope swats his fingers away.

“Agree to dis—”

“Regardless of how she noticed you — she still recognized you. Even though your entire Instagram feed is sunsets and food. It’s —”

“Hey, that’s not strictly —”

“— cool that she recognized you,” she interrupts, looking up at him again. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he supposes. “It’s nice to know my work has had an impact on someone. You know…” He looks down to her again. “Someone who isn’t biased because they’ve known me their entire life.”

“I can be unbiased,” she claims with little confidence in her voice.

“You —”

“Have you decided on a narrative for your story yet?” she asks him, providing no context for the swift change in subject.

“What story?” he asks after a few seconds.

“The Catalonia story.”

“Oh,” he says after a few more seconds. “I’m not writing one.”

After throwing him a bewildered look, she asks, “What wouldn’t you write a story about this place?”

“I’m on vacation. Why would I work?”

“Well… That logic might apply to someone whose job doesn’t require them to go on vacation, but —”

“Excuse me,” he interrupts, mock offence heavy on his tongue. “My profession requires me to travel. Even travel writers need a vacation every once in a while. A break from having to spend each waking moment of my day constructing narratives and meeting deadlines and memorialising every little detail of my experiences.”

Penelope nods sympathetically at his words, but is quick with her response.

“What about your two-month hiatus at home? Wasn’t that supposed to be your break from paradise?”

“Yes — but this is an extension of that break. And in case you forgot, we’re only in Catalonia because of you and your accomplishments.”

A scoff that nearly sounds like a laugh escapes her mouth.

“I seem to recall the planning of this trip very differently than you do.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Getting back to the point… Don’t you owe it to your readers to write about this place? To memorialise just a little bit of paradise for those who aren’t lucky enough to experience it themselves?”

Feet still propelling him forward, Colin takes a moment to consider her words. He thinks of Hermione. He thinks of the little black and white follower count attached to his Instagram. He thinks of his dreams. He thinks of Penelope on that night in December.

Something to propel me forward and set me free.

“No,” he tells her. “I think that’s bullshit.”

Penelope gapes at him, clearly caught off guard by his bluntness.

“Pardon?”

“The more time you spend worrying about what you ‘owe’ the world, the more you risk losing sight of what matters to you. I’m elated to know that people enjoy my work, but I can’t let that pressure me into becoming a slave to my purpose. I can’t let it stop me from running off for a weekend with a friend just to enjoy myself.”

A moment passes by with no words between them. It’s not silent, though; the ocean is too loud. When Penelope finally speaks, the crashing waves nearly drown her words out.

“I thought the only reason we came here was for me. I don’t remember your enjoyment being a factor in this at all.”

Colin can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, well… I suppose my pleasure is an added bonus.”

Penelope laughs, too.

“Even then… What if you wrote something just for yourself? So twenty years from now, you can remember how the water reflects the sun here . Or how you spent an hour describing the differences between the Greek Empúries and the Roman Empúries.”

Stifling a laugh…

“Technically, the Roman settlement was called ‘Emporiæ.’”

“Regardless,” she murmurs. “Maybe you can write a different kind of story. One that isn’t meant for anyone’s eyes, except your own. I mean — twenty years from now, wouldn’t it be nice to have a written account of this stunning place? To hold onto moments like these,” she raises her hands towards the scenery around them, “long after our feet carry us away from them?”

Colin considers her words for a moment. A very brief moment.

“No, I don’t think that’s necessary for this trip.” It’s only after Penelope throws him a questioning glance that he continues, “If I were alone, then sure — I might worry about forgetting certain details about this place and be tempted to jot them down. But I’m not alone. If I want to come back to this moment twenty years from now, I’ll just talk to you about it.”

When Colin looks over to Penelope again, he finds that her cheeks are burning a bright shade of pink. He would blame the sun, if it weren't for the colour’s rather sudden appearance on her skin.

“Are you —” he starts, at the very same moment that she blurts out, “Do you ever get lonely on your trips? It just — it seems like a lot of time spent by yourself.”

Involuntarily, Colin’s lips twist together — as if his body is preventing him from answering such a complicated question too quickly.

In truth, he does get lonely on his travels, but that word doesn’t have the sting it once did. There’s an inherent loneliness to this job — especially for someone like Colin, who cannot focus on things like narratives and deadlines and details unless free from distraction. This particular trip has made that abundantly clear; he hadn’t even thought about writing until Penelope brought it up just a moment ago.

For Colin, finding success over the last three years also meant finding a way to live with the loneliness. To turn it into something good.

“Sometimes,” he finally answers. “But it’s a necessary evil. Writing, travelling, returning home — those things make the loneliness easy to live with. For now, at least.”

“For now?” Penelope echoes, suddenly sounding far away.

Colin shrugs.

“A man can’t travel forever.”

Just as those words leave Colin’s lips, the two of them reach a fork in the road. They could turn to the right, towards the ocean. They could turn left, towards the ruins. They could even turn around, back to where they began.

Penelope decides for them both in the end, her feet walking to the right. As he always tends to do, Colin follows close behind.

Their footstops halt when the pavement meets the sand. Both sets of eyes point forward, towards the breathtakingly blue water.

“You know, if you’re so worried about our feeble human memories being unable to do this place justice, you could always write about it. Last time I checked, you’re also —”

“No,” she interrupts. “You were right. I’ll remember this.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Day 3

The most difficult part of being in love with your dearest friend, Penelope has come to realise, is having to look at them. When she and Colin are apart — separated by school or a job or Penelope’s better judgement — being his friend is easy. It’s easy for her to be his friend over an email or a voicemail or even a Skype. It’s easy to keep her true feelings below the surface when their only connection is through a screen. There are times when it’s easy to trick herself into thinking friendship is not so different from (or inferior to) a romantic relationship. But when they’re separated by nothing more than a bit of air…

It’s difficult. Especially on days like today.

Today was a beach day. They’ve been here since breakfast. Penelope spent much of that time hiding from the sun under the safety of a giant beach umbrella, unwilling to risk showing up to her first day of work with a sunburn the same shade of red as her hair. But (unsurprisingly), Colin had coaxed her out of the shadows more times than she could count today.

Today was a test of Penelope’s strength of will. And her ability to keep her eyes trained upwards (an especially difficult task, given that her eyeline just so happens to fall directly on his bare, tan, surprisingly hairy chest).

Now, she is back in the shadows, pretending to read a book while Colin is a little further down the beach. He’s playing volleyball with a group of strangers who just so happened to need a sixth player. He’s shirtless, just as he has been all fucking day. He’s serving the ball. He’s laughing with a teammate. He’s running a hand through his hair, his —

Fucking hell. Are his biceps larger than they were yesterday?

Shaking her head, pushing her oversized sunglasses even closer to her skull, she looks down at the book uselessly sitting open in her lap. In hindsight, The Scarlet Letter was far from an optimal choice for a beach read. But still…

She should be able to get through a single line without her eyes wandering off to places they shouldn’t go.

When she looks back up, she finds Colin scoring yet another point in his impromptu game. He’s laughing with that familiar, carefree refrain that always falls so naturally from his lips. He’s flexing muscles she didn’t know he had. He’s shining like gold beneath the sun’s reflection. He’s looking up towards the sky, a frown suddenly marking his otherwise pleasant face. He’s walking away from his new friends.

He’s six metres away. Five metres. Four —

Fuck.

Once again, Penelope tilts her head down and pretends to be enthralled by the book in her lap. If Colin had noticed her staring, he doesn’t say anything about it when he closes the distance between them.

“It looks like it’s about to rain. You want to head back to the hotel?”

Suddenly struck by just how dry her throat is, Penelope only manages to smile and nod in response. It isn’t until she and Colin are halfway back to the hotel that she realises how long it’s been since she’s said anything at all.

“I can’t believe I slept through sunrise again this morning.”

Colin laughs in that easy, reassuring way that practically makes Penelope’s blood boil after her day under the sun.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” he says. “Under normal circumstances, a 6 AM wake up call is difficult for an insomniac such as yourself. Taking into account that your body still thinks it’s an hour behind back in London…”

You have no idea what my body thinks, she wants to say. But she doesn’t say that. Obviously.

“Perhaps,” she says instead. “But we have such a prime view of it from our rooms. It would be a shame not to see it with my own eyes at least once.”

“Well, I have faith that you can manage it.”

“Thank y—”

“And when you do, perhaps you can bang on my wall a few times so I can enjoy the sunrise too.”

Feeling much lighter than she had just a moment ago, Penelope giggles. “Perhaps,” she says, picking up her footsteps. They remain light the rest of their trek, even when the rain inevitably pours down around them, transforming their walk into a run.

When they arrive back at the hotel, Colin immediately turns left towards the elevators. But Penelope, suddenly brimming with a very good idea, turns right towards the reception desk.

“Good afternoon,” she says to the woman behind the desk, an older lady with a cherry blossom tucked behind her ear. Isabella, her name tag reads.

“Hello,” the woman says brightly. “What can I help you with, dear?”

“Can I order a wake up call for tomorrow morning, please?”

(If ten alarms can’t wake her at the crack of dawn, perhaps the terror-striking sound of a phone call will.)

“Certainly! I just need your room number.”

“Of course. It’s 301.”

As the woman types away at her computer, Penelope turns towards Colin. He’s leaning against a pillar, a few feet back. He’s smiling. There are undoubtedly puddles forming in the soles of his sandals at this very moment, but still, he’s smiling.

Penelope can’t help but smile back.

“There you are,” the older woman says beneath her breath, just loud enough to bring Penelope’s eyes forward again. “So Mrs. Bridgerton, what time should I schedule your call for?”

Penelope doesn’t register the second half of Isabella’s question, her mind suddenly overcome with the sounds of alarm bells.

Mrs. Bridgerton.

Mrs. Fucking. Bridgerton.

“What?!”

The word shoots out of her mouth before she can stop it. She regrets it immediately. This kind woman doesn’t deserve such displaced aggression. That aggression should be aimed directly at the man standing behind them both.

“I’m sorry, dear. I was saying —”

“No, I’m sorry, truly. I just —” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m not Mrs. —”

She takes another breath. She says a prayer. She pretends to be a normal person — one who would have no reason to crack under the sheer irony of being mistaken as Colin Bridgerton’s wife.

“I don’t need that wake up call anymore, but thank you so much for your time. Sorry again.”

When she turns around, Colin isn’t smiling anymore.

“A word?” she hisses as she stomps past him on the way to the elevator.

“Pen, what are you do—”

She stops short in the middle of the lobby. So short, in fact, that Colin nearly runs right into her. Thankfully, Penelope has a lifetime’s worth of practice getting out of other people’s way; she dodges him at the last second.

“What did you do, Colin? Did you tell them we’re on our honeymoon, like you did at the airport?”

She tears her eyes away from his to quickly glance at the room around them.

Their hotel is gorgeous. It used to be a historic Spanish villa, but was renovated and transformed for lodging just a few years ago. It is not the type of place you can snag for just £100 a night (especially with the views they have from their rooms upstairs). Penelope realised this fact the very moment they walked into this lobby Thursday night, but after the stressful flight and initial pretend wife debacle, Penelope had chosen to overlook it then. Suffice to say, that instinct has long since left her body.

“Is that how you were able to get us this place for so cheap?”

“No. I didn’t do that.”

Colin’s eyes don’t look away from hers as he speaks. She knows that he isn’t lying, but…

“How the fuck did you, then?”

She doesn’t yell, but she doesn’t disguise her words with a whisper, either. Colin doesn’t make any attempt to disguise his emotions, either. He’s looking down at her with a disbelieving, bitter look — as if he is the wronged party here.

“I —”

“And why did she call me ‘Mrs. Bridgerton?’” she interrupts. Her voice is neutral in volume, but biting in its tone.

Colin takes a breath and wipes that bitter expression off his face. (For now, at least.)

“I know the owner,” he admits. His tone reeks of a nonchalance that Penelope feels is unwarranted, given the present circumstances. “I didn’t even make the reservation. He probably put my name down on both rooms and the receptionist got confused.”

“You know the owner?” she asks, incredulous.

“Family friend,” he clarifies, stunning Penelope back into silence.

After twenty-three years of living in such close proximity to the Bridgertons, she should be used to this by now. She doesn’t need to be reminded of the family’s seemingly infinite web of connections or be surprised at their ability to pull from them to get whatever it is that they want or need. But even now, it’s difficult for her to fully grasp.

At her silence, Colin decides to change tactics. Smirking, he continues, “I mean — how would I even pull that scheme off? We have two adjoining rooms. That would be a rather large red flag for a supposed honeymoon.”

Much quieter than she was a moment ago (but just as vexed), Penelope tells him, “I have faith in your ability to get around such minor details. If it means getting what you want.”

“Hey — if you didn’t want me to use any special discounts on this trip, you should have stipulated that in the rules of the game.”

After cringing at his use of the term special discounts, Penelope decides to give up. Turning her body towards the nearest elevator, she tells him she’ll “remember that for next time.” Before she can step away though, Colin stops her with a hand gripped tightly around her elbow.

When she looks up, she finds that bitter expression has returned to his face.

“Tell me, Pen,” he whispers, leaning in close. “Which has been the most painful blow to your ego — being mistaken as my girlfriend, my fiancée, or my wife?”

“Excuse me?”

Penelope feels as though she’s outside of her own body; she isn’t sure if she whispered those two words aloud or simply screamed them into the deepest caverns of her mind. It must have been the former, though. Colin’s eyes are wide.

“Honestly, Pen? It’s a bit upsetting to know that my best friend would raise hell before allowing a random stranger to think that we might be —”

He pauses for the briefest, longest second of Penelope’s life.

“Involved.”

Penelope stands silent for several seconds. What is she supposed to say to that? What platonic explanation is there for that?

You’re being a hypocrite. You’re being cruel, she wants to say. But she can’t say that. Obviously.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles instead. Then, she slips her arm from his grasp. “I — I’m just in a bit of a mood. I think it’s the sun.”

Her words reek of utter bullshit. They both know it. But at least Colin has the grace to let the issue go.

“Come on.”

His hand quickly finds its position around her elbow once more. This time, his grip is loose. Five tentative fingers tethered to her skin.

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Day 4

“What the hell are you doing?”

Given the notable height difference between them, Colin always has to be mindful of where his eyes land when standing right beside Penelope. But when crammed into small spaces like the elevator they’re currently sharing, his eyes inevitably start to wander. Now, they’re pointed at her phone screen. (Which is an invasion of privacy. Which is bad, but the lesser of two evils, given his current perspective in relation to his best friend’s shirt.)

She looks up at him, but only after setting a 25th alarm.

“Tomorrow is our last morning here. I am not missing that sunrise.”

She looks down again, resuming her all-important task. By the time they reach their destination and the elevator doors swing open, she has set at least ten more alarms. Her eyes remain locked on the screen as she steps foot into the lobby.

They’re on the way to the hotel bar, a suggestion Colin made after an unusually tense 24 hours between them in paradise.

Well, tense might be too strong of a term to describe the atmosphere between him and Penelope. But still, the atmosphere has been different ever since he let his ego get the better of him in the hotel lobby yesterday. Different enough to scare him. Different enough to prompt him to call in the big guns to set things right again.

(Alcohol.)

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Two tequila shots into the night, Penelope is not having a good time.

She had spent the entire day trying her hardest to force a smile on her face and keep her bad mood at bay until they land back on English soil. This had proved to be difficult — not just because of the insistence and intensity of said bad mood, but also because of Colin’s not-so-subtle attempts to uncover the true reason for her outburst the day before. (And the day before that.) (And the day before that.)

His line of questioning has only become less subtle since walking into the bar. Logically, this realisation should have prompted Penelope to make one final toast then go hide in her hotel room, but…

Alcohol has a tendency to make good ideas sound bad and bad ideas sound good. The latter is why she’s currently standing at the bar waiting for another round.

Maybe another drink will make us both forget what happened.

“Here you go, miss.”

On the other side of the bar, the handsome bartender slides two clear glasses with lime green liquid sloshing inside. Penelope unconsciously licks her bottom lip at the sight.

Only after securing the glasses in each hand does she realise that she never technically paid for either drink.

“You can put these on 301,” she shouts over the music.

“No need,” the bartender answers in a low voice that somehow cuts clear through the chaos of the room. He winks at her. “Those are on the house.”

“Oh! Um. Thanks!”

With that, Penelope turns on her heel. The abrupt motion causes one tiny stream of syrupy tequila to trickle down her fingers and onto the floor.

Determined not to spill any more of her free drinks, Penelope walks to the table in the back of the bar with an abundance of caution. During the treacherous journey across the room, she keeps her eyes pointed intently on the glasses in her hands. When she finally looks up, she’s shocked by what she finds.

In the chair beside Colin sits the most beautiful woman Penelope has ever seen with her own two eyes. The two of them are turned towards each other, talking about something Penelope can’t hear from where she stands not four feet away. She stands there awkwardly hovering above the table for a few seconds before Colin notices her return. When he does, he shoots her an aggravatingly endearing smile.

“There she is!” He turns back to the girl on his right. “Paris, this is Penelope. Pen, this is Paris.”

God. Even her name is beautiful.

“Lovely to meet you, Paris,” Penelope says, taking the seat directly across from her instead of the one facing Colin.

Paris, in turn, throws her a smile that could rival Colin’s. Even in this dim corner of the bar, it manages to catch the light.

“You as well, Penelope! Colin and I were just bonding over our most harrowing solo travel stories.”

She’s American, her voice betrays.

“Do you travel much?” Penelope asks after taking a long, greedy sip of her drink.

“Not as much as I’d like to,” she admits, sighing a little. “But I had a few weeks free before my grad program starts, so I decided to say ‘fuck it’ and booked a flight over here.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope sees Colin open his mouth to say something. Before he can manage to, she leans towards their new, very beautiful friend and says, “That’s amazing. Where else have you been?”

Over the course of the next few minutes, Penelope practically forgets about Colin and the unresolved tension between them. She’s too busy listening to their new, very beautiful, remarkably interesting, extremely funny, perfect friend Paris. (While also finishing her two free drinks.)

“Enough about me,” Penelope’s new favourite distraction eventually orders. She flicks her eyes from Colin to Penelope and back. “I meant to ask before, but how did you two meet?”

Penelope opens her mouth to answer, but Colin beats her to it, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. Still grinning…

“You know, that question is surprisingly hard to answer. We’ve always just known each other.”

His response is the most infuriating string of words Penelope has ever heard uttered aloud in her life. Across the table, Paris looks as though she’s about to melt.

“Awwww, that is so —”

“I believe what Colin meant to say is that we grew up across the street from one another,” she interrupts, just barely able to keep her tone pleasant enough to not scare away Paris. “His sister is my best friend.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Penelope watches as Colin’s grin finally drops. She nearly looks at him for the first time since sitting down, but then her new friend says something that immediately dislodges the impulse from her mind.

Specifically, Paris delivers the funniest joke Penelope has ever heard in her life.

“You two are childhood sweethearts? That is so sweet!”

Penelope snorts. Her reaction is so loud and unladylike that she fears her mother will be able to sense it all the way back home in London.

“No! We’re —”

She snorts again. Somewhere in the distance, she thinks she hears someone say her name like a warning, but it barely registers.

“We are not dating,” she continues, just barely able to keep in another round of giggles. She keeps her eyes trained on Paris, who suddenly looks rather wide-eyed in her seat across from Penelope. “I mean — my god! Colin would never.”

She hears her voice called out in the distance again, but refuses to heed its warning. She can’t stop now. She’s too close to the punchline.

“You know, he said that once. Literally. That he would never date me. Not in a million years!”

“Pen!”

Finally, she hears him. Her eyes snap to Colin. His face is made up of an emotion she’s never seen there before.

Betrayal? No, that’s not —

“A word?”

Before she can even register that he has moved from his chair, Colin stands above her. His hand is on her elbow. He’s pulling her out the nearest door.

The breeze outside is bitter. Though the nearest beach is at least a half-kilometre away, Penelope swears she can feel little bits of the sea spraying on her cheeks. Neither of those sensations are cold enough to distract her from the warmth wrapped around her elbow.

“What was that, Penelope?”

“I…” she starts, with no intention of finishing the sentence.

“What were you talking about at the end?”

The first question had been delivered to her with fury. The second, concern. The next one that falls from his lips…

Misery.

“What did you — what did I say? I don’t — I don’t remember…”

All night, knowingly or not, Penelope had been using alcohol to fuel the pyre of her own misery. But seeing it reflected on Colin’s face now…

“It was nothing,” she lies. “Just forget —”

“No. Whatever it is, it is not ‘nothing.’

“Colin —”

“Pen, please,” he begs. “Just tell me.”

Penelope wants to summon the strength to be honest. She wants to destroy her disposition towards bullshit and tell him the truth. She’s not certain if that’s a strength she possesses, but she knows for a fact that she won’t be able to summon it with Colin tethered to her skin.

Stepping backwards, Penelope untangles herself from his grip. She crosses her arms in front of her chest before he can attempt to take hold again.

“Honestly, Colin, it was nothing. It happened years ago — before you even left for Cambridge. At that party at Fife’s house, I overheard you talking with some of your friends. They must have seen us hanging out all night and got the wrong idea about us. They — they asked if we were dating and you told them we weren’t, that we would nev—”

She sucks in a breath. She chances a prayer. She tries her hardest not to bullshit.

“You were just correcting them. That’s all.”

Colin doesn’t say anything for several seconds. He stands before her with twisted lips, like he’s desperately trying to hold something in. Then, he parts them.

“Kind of like how you were ‘just correcting’ that girl inside?”

“Yeah,” she says, speaking 100% truthfully for the first time since they stepped outside. Honesty is hard, but his comparison is too apt to even try to deny it.

When Colin takes a step towards her, Penelope takes another step back. The motion is enough to make her dizzy and, thus, remind her of the tequila currently sitting in the depths of her stomach.

“Pen, I’m so sorry. I —”

“No,” she interrupts, her voice definitive. “Don’t apologise. For anything. I was being rude inside, but you — you were just being honest that night. You didn’t even know I was there — that I could hear what you said. You —

“I hardly think that mat—”

“You should not have to apologise for simply speaking your mind.”

“That’s bullsh—”

“Colin! It was forever ago, can we please just leave it be?” She takes a breath. “Can we forget about this whole mess?”

“How can you say that? It’s been —”

Raising his hands into the air between them, he uses his fingers to count off imaginary numbers. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six…

“Seven years! Seven, Penelope. I can’t even remember saying it, but I —” He takes a breath. “I wish I could. If for nothing else, just to properly apologise to you for being such a dickhead.”

“Col—”

“But you remember. And after what just happened in the bar — after what’s been happening all week — don’t you dare try and pretend like it’s nothing. If it was truly nothing, you would not be holding onto it seven years later.”

That look — the one that appeared out of nowhere following her outburst inside — appears on his face again. The lighting is a bit brighter out here due to a nearby streetlamp, but it doesn’t make it any easier for Penelope to identify that emotion. It’s not betrayal. It’s not quite guilt. It’s —

It doesn’t matter.

Resisting the urge to drop her gaze from his, Penelope finally accepts that there are some things in life that defy definition. One of those anomalies is currently staring right through her, and there’s nothing she can say to make him see her. Bullshit or otherwise.

“Fine. Apology accepted.”

She turns to leave, needing the conversation to be over. But yet again, Colin’s hand wraps around her elbow.

“Can we please just talk about this like adults?”

“What is there left to say?” He opens his mouth, but she isn’t done. “You were right. I was hurt, but now I’m choosing to let it go. Seven years is far too long a time to take issue with a few words overheard at a party.”

“That is not what I meant, Pen.”

“I know. But it’s the truth.”

“Pen —”

“It’s late, Colin,” she interrupts, turning her back to him as she begins to step away. “Perhaps we can discuss it tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?” He’s already beside her again, footsteps in line with hers.

“Back to my room,” she huffs. “I wish to be alone.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting I let you run off by yourself right now, are you?”

“Yes —”

“Pen, you’re drunk.”

He certainly has a point but…

“You say that like you are not also drunk.”

“Yeah, well…” He runs a hand through his hair, then promptly finds her elbow again. “At least I’m not as drunk as you.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

On the way back down to the bar, Colin takes the stairs.

After ensuring that Penelope got back to her room safely, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his own bed and end this cursed day once and for all. But when he fished out his wallet to retrieve his roomkey, he realised that a different card was missing. That his credit card was sitting behind a bar downstairs, along with an unpaid tab.

He takes the stairs slowly, step by reluctant step. His mind is elsewhere, unwittingly replaying the night over and over again. He’s trying to make sense of it all. Of any of it.

Not in a million years!

He said that once.

He doesn’t doubt it. But god — he doesn’t remember it either. He remembers that night. He remembers sitting on the roof with Penelope, then dancing with her in the back garden. He remembers laughing. He remembers drinking. He remembers being eighteen. He remembers what a massive arsehole he could turn into when surrounded by other arseholes like Fife.

He doesn’t doubt that he said it — but he can’t quite explain it either. Lord knows he can’t justify it. The words just sounded wrong, especially when repeated back to him from Penelope’s lips.

That he would never date me.

Not in a million years!

Even in his own head, Colin struggles to explain why those words feel so wrong to him — why they reek of such potent bullshit. His dilemma is not made any easier by Penelope or anything she said tonight.

Fine. Apology accepted.

The way she looked at him when those words left her lips…

It was like she disappeared. Her eyes didn’t leave his, and yet it looked as though she was suddenly staring at something far in the distance. Like she was staring through him. Like —

“Can I help you, mate?”

Colin blinks three times, taking in his surroundings as he comes back to reality. His feet must have been on auto-pilot the last few minutes; he’s back at the bar.

“Mate?” the smug bartender repeats.

Not in the mood to dignify that with a response, Colin mimes a pen squiggle in the air. Thankfully, the man takes the hint and disappears down the bar to retrieve his check. Before he can return, someone on a barstool clears their throat.

It’s the girl from before. The American. The one who sat at his table to make small talk, then unintentionally fucked up his entire night. (And possibly his entire friendship with Penelope.)

Brooklyn? No, that wasn’t it.

“So… What the fuck was that before?” she asks, her voice teetering somewhere between faux-enthusiasm and genuine annoyance. “Some weird foreplay between you and your girlfriend?”

��No. We’re not…”

He could finish that sentence, but he doesn’t see the point. This stranger has already received a lecture on the true nature of his and Penelope’s relationship — what else needs to be said?

The girl rolls her eyes, dropping the fake enthusiasm entirely.

“If you two aren’t dating, why did you tell me your ‘girlfriend Penelope’ was grabbing drinks from the bar when I first sat down?”

“No, I —”

His voice trails off again. This time, his mind is kicking into overdrive, desperately attempting to relive that moment of the night. Surely, he didn’t —

“No,” he says again, this time more sure of himself. “I said she was my ‘good friend,’ not my ‘girlfriend.’” But as the words leave his lips, Colin’s short-lived confidence crumbles.

Good friend. Girlfriend.

The bar is loud and he’s consumed quite a bit of tequila tonight. Maybe he did misspeak.

Good friend. Girlfriend. Good friend. Girlfriend. Good friend. Girlfriend.

“Whatever,” the American says, pushing herself off of the barstool. “I hope you and your good friend can work out your issues.”

Colin gulps, because Lord knows that he hopes for the same.

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Day 5

The first alarm goes off at 5:50 AM. Colin was technically asleep before it wrung out, but restlessly so. His body never fully settled into sleep that night, so it’s quick to wake when those artificial bells drift over from the wall behind him.

Another alarm starts at 5:51, then stops just as quickly. From his own bed, Colin can’t help but picture Penelope muting said alarm with her eyes scrunched shut, hungover and still 90% asleep. For the first time in what feels like ages, he smiles.

At 5:52, another alarm rings out as Colin sits up, wide awake. He runs a hand across his face as memories and realisations from the night before come back to him with startling clarity. They fit together in his mind like evidence for a cold case he didn’t realise was a mystery until yesterday. A few more alarms ring out as he pieces everything together.

Seven years ago, Colin left for Cambridge and Penelope left for Cheltenham and, for two years and three months thereafter, their friendship wasn’t the same. In those two years and three months, he lost the one person he could always and truly be himself around. Throughout those two years and three months, he assumed the shift between them had been an inevitable part of growing up and growing out of their younger selves. But now…

Now he can see it all clearly.

Seven years ago, Colin invited Penelope to a party, occupied her time all night, then claimed that he would never date her in a million goddamn years. He said those words in a crowd full of people — so crowded, in fact, that he couldn’t tell that she had been there to witness it all firsthand.

It all seems so obvious now. Of course she heard him. Of course the shift had been intentional — on one side, that is.

At 6:05, another alarm rings. Colin barely hears it, his mind occupied by the question that had been plaguing him all week.

Why is Pen so put off by the prospect of us being a couple?

He knows the answer now, but it’s of no comfort to him.

At 6:06, a new question rises to occupy that space in his mind.

Why aren’t I put off by the prospect of Pen and I being a couple?

Perhaps that is the question he should have been asking himself from the start. At no point during any of the many misunderstandings that occurred this week had Colin ever been put off by the titles others had thrust upon them. Strangers seeing Penelope as his girlfriend, his fiancée, his wife…

None of it put him off.

The 6:07 alarm seems to rewire his brain. More questions come to him.

Is it normal to be enraged by the idea of dating your best friend? Is it more or less normal to find the idea… nice?

At the 6:08 alarm, Colin asks himself another question. One he should have been asking himself for several years now.

Is it normal to be so preoccupied by the sight of your best friend’s cleavage?

At the 6:09 alarm, long after assuming Penelope would miss her final chance at viewing the Catalonian sunrise, he hears something new from the next room over.

“Siri, cancel all alarms.”

After that, he hears the faintest evidence of movement from her end. Rustling sheets. Footsteps. A barely audible “Fuck.”

By 6:10, Colin stands stiffly, inches away from their adjoining door. By 6:11, he actually knocks on it.

It only takes a few seconds for her to swing it open.

“Hi.”

Penelope is looking up at him with the eyes of someone who had four shots of tequila last night. Her hair has been twisted into a long red braid down her side. She’s wearing a matching set of pink and white chequered pyjamas and slippers in the shape of little white rabbits. Colin can’t help but smile.

“Morning.”

Without another word, she nods her head to the side, signalling for him to follow her out to the balcony.

The sky is navy blue, save for the thin streak of maroon rising up from the edge of the world. It’s still dawn. It will be dawn for another few minutes, until the sun inevitably rises.

Colin and Penelope stand side-by-side, hands on the railing, pinkies inches apart. Without a word spared between them, they watch as twilight bleeds into daybreak. As red turns to pink. Pink to orange. Orange to yellow.

The sea reflects it all like a mirror. Colin sees it all with his own two eyes.

“Is it everything you thought it would be?”

“More.”

When quiet falls between them again and yellow bleeds into blue, Colin can’t stop himself from asking and answering a new question. It’s the one that’s been hiding in the shadows of his mind for most of his life.

Am I in love with Pen?

Yes, you fucking idiot. Of course you are.

The realisation doesn’t come with any amount of shock or denial. It just feels…

Inevitable.

This was always going to happen. He was going to reach this conclusion sooner or later.

Tempting fate, Colin lifts his left arm and places it across Penelope’s back, hand settling gently on her shoulder. Both of her hands remain locked on the railing.

As much as it consumes him inside, Colin cannot bring himself to voice his inevitable revelation aloud. Not after last night — after realising the pain he has obliviously inflicted on Penelope over the years. Not after this week — which had been planned in celebration and is currently teetering on disaster. Not after an entire lifetime of getting it all wrong.

He can’t bring himself to voice his revelation aloud. Instead he asks a simpler, albeit similarly difficult question.

“Are we going to be okay?”

“Yes,” Penelope says, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Of course.”

Colin isn’t sure he believes her. He isn’t sure things will ever be the same.

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

“You know, Catalonia is beautiful this time of year. Perfect destination for a honeymoon.”

“Don’t skip ahead,” she orders, while also making a mental note on the topic in the back of her mind. “What’s next?”

#I thought this chapter was going to give me a hernia #right now there are THREE 10K+ chaps in this fic #and that’s three too many #bridgerton #fanfiction #polin #weepingfromacedartree #ao3 #fanfic #ten milestones #penelope x colin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

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