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cutethingstolove · 3 years

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Shopping With Friends

Photos From @little-stephanies-diary, Part 10

Stephanie and Courtney started walking around the mall chatting about winter break and the first week back in school. They had already decided that they would make a loop through the whole mall before stopping by the food court to grab some lunch, and they would do their shopping after eating. They were also planning on making the matinee movie at the theater in the mall, which was scheduled to start at 4:30 leaving them only five and a half hours to finish their shopping. As they wandered the mall, Stephanie noticed a toy store with a big pink teddy bear marked down 70%! She didn’t want to say anything in case Courtney thought it was too childish, but she planned on stopping back there after the movie to see if it was still there. Even at her age, Stephanie still loved cute things like the teddy bear and her Aladdin nightshirt.

After making their lap around the mall picking out the stores they would visit, the girls stopped at the food court and decided to order some Chinese food. As they were standing in line waiting to place their order, Stephanie realized that she had hardly noticed the bulky diaper her dad made her wear. She was still mortified at the idea of having to use it instead of the bathroom, but that hadn’t been a problem yet. Reaching the front of the line, Stephanie ordered some fried rice, orange chicken, and an eggroll with a medium Diet Coke to drink. Courtney ordered the same, and the two made their way to a nearby table to enjoy their lunch.

They finished eating quickly, hardly saying a word, as they really wanted to finish their shopping before the movie. As they were throwing away their trash, Courtney piped up, :So where do you want to go first Steph?”

“Let’s go to Forever 21 first,” Stephanie replied, “They always have cute stuff on sale after Christmas, and I love their jeans!”

“Me too!,” Courtney agreed, “That’s our first stop then!”

The two girls walked down the corridor to the store, and went to rummaging through the racks looking for things to try one. They stayed together as they moved through the store, talking about the items they were going to try on. Stephanie ended up grabbing a couple of pairs of jeans in her normal size, a forest green dress, and a bright blue long sleeve t-shirt along with a few accessories. When they had both picked out the things they liked, they headed towards the fitting rooms to try everything on. Once in her room, Stephanie took off the pink shortalls she had on, and started to pull one of the pairs of jeans on. The jeans were going on like normal until they ran into the bottom of her diaper. Unlike with her Goodnites, these bigger diapers made it impossible to pull the jeans up to her waist. Realizing she wouldn’t be able to try on her jeans with this diaper on, but still wanting to hide the fact that she didn’t tried everything on, she pulled the hangers off the other pair and tossed them on the ground.

At least she still had the t-shirt and dress to try on, and she thought the diaper wouldn’t get in the way of either of those. She pulled off her white t-shirt, standing there in just her bra and diaper, before grabbing the blue shirt and throwing it on. She loved the color, and thought it would look great with the dress and the black thigh highs stockings she had grabbed. She pulled on the stocking before putting the dress on over her head. One glance in the mirror and loved the combination she had picked out, she couldn’t even see the diaper poking out! Curious just how well her diaper was covered, she lifted the front of the dress to see that it wasn’t by much, so she would have to wait until her ‘potty training’ was over to wear these again.

It was just then that her Diet Coke from lunch hit her, and she had the sudden urge to pee. She knew she couldn’t use the bathroom today, but wasn’t going to be in trouble for wetting her diaper, so she relaxed and let her bladder empty slowly into the diaper. It was just as she was finishing that she heard Courtney call out asking her to step out into the hall to ask Stephanie’s opinion on an outfit she picked out. Realizing that she had just wet her diaper, and still the green dress that didn’t hide her diaper well enough, she sank to the floor in humiliation.

She yelled out that she would be just a minute as she wasn’t fully dressed as she quickly stood up and pulled off the dress and pulled her pink shortalls back on, though they fit a bit tighter with the wet bulge between her legs. As soon as she was redressed, she stepped out into the hallway telling Courtney how much she loved the outfit. Courtney asked if Steph had found anything, and she said she loved the shirt she had on but still had to try on the green dress. Satisfied with the answer, Courtney went back into her room, and Stephanie did the same. Stephanie took off the blue shirt and put her white t-shirt back on, but waited for a couple of minutes before emerging from the fitting room to make it seem like she was still trying things on.

After buying the blue shirt, the forest green dress, and the black thigh highs, she waited patiently as Courtney finished buying a pair of jeans and the outfit that she had asked Stephanie about. After leaving Forever 21, the girls stopped by a couple of other stores, but having no luck finding anything they wanted. Walking back towards the entrance to drop off their bags in their cars before the movie, Courtney pulled Stephanie into a new store that had only opened a couple weeks earlier. It was the same store that Stephanie had seen the pink teddy bear in earlier, and to she shock the rest of the store was filled with some of the cutest clothes she had ever seen! They were all adult sized cloths, but with cute cartoonish prints like rainbows, unicorns, and teddy bears on them! Stephanie had just grabbed a snap crotched set of pajamas with clods and rainbows on it wanting to try it on when Courtney began to laugh a little behind her.

“Can you believe people actually buy this stuff!,” Courtney exclaimed, “It’s all so childish!”

“Yeah,” Stephanie begrudgingly agreed, “It’s so silly anyone would want any of this.”

It really is,” Courtney replied, “We should get going though. We still need to drop these bags off and still have time to buy snacks and use the bathroom before the movie starts.”

Leaving the store, Stephanie looked back longingly at the oink teddy bear and the cute clothes she really wanted to buy. Knowing her friends would laugh if they saw her buying any of the clothes there, however, she had to find another way to buy the things she wanted. After dropping their bags off in their cars, the girls went into the movie theater which usually showed older movies for their Saturday matinee. Stephanie was really excited when she saw Toy Story 3 was the movie this week and went with Courtney to buy their tickets. Courtney suggested the go to the bathroom before grabbing their snacks for the movie and dragged Stephanie with her. Stephanie really didn’t need to use the bathroom, but entered a stall and sat down on the toilet as to not raise Courtney’s suspicions. When they were done in the bathroom, they headed to the concession stand and each bought a large soda and decided to split a large popcorn.

They found some seats in the middle of the half full theater, and sat back to enjoy the movie. Stephanie had seen it so many times she could nearly quote the movie by heart. It wasn’t long before the girls had finished off their popcorn and drinks, so they just relaxed and watched the movie whispering from time to time during the more boring scenes. Just as the toys were being hauled off to the incinerator, Stephanie had the sudden urge to pee again. Knowing from experience that this diaper could hold at least two uses, and not wanting to miss any of the movie, she left loose and filled her diaper even more. As soon as the movie was over, the girls left the theater and headed to their cars to go home for dinner. Once they reached their cars, Courtney called out, “We had fun today! Let’s continue the fun and have a sleepover tonight!”

“Sounds awesome!,” Stephanie absentmindedly replied, “I’m sure my dad would be ok with doing it at my house!”

“Perfect!,” Courtney replied, “I’ll see you in a couple of hours!”

Still wanting to go back in and at least buy the pink teddy bear that was on sale, she pretended like she had left her keys in the theater and excused herself to go grab them. Courtney understood, and hopped in her car and drove off. It wasn’t until that moment that Stephanie realized the mistake she had made by agreeing to the sleepover; her dad was still going to make her wear a diaper. Mortified, her face grew red, but it was too late to cancel so she ran back into the mall to buy the teddy bear. She went as fast as she could so no one would see her, bought the bear, and raced back to her car to head home and plead with her dad to not have to wear a diaper during the sleepover. She just hoped she could be convincing enough.

To Be Continued…

#ab/dl #ab/dl girl #diapered #diapered girl #ab/dl caption #ab/dl story

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lastbluetardis · 3 years

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Sacred New Beginnings (1/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU, @doctorroseprompts

This Chapter: Teen, ~5500 words

Note: Er... surprise? This idea has been in my head for months but my brain took it and ran with it this weekend. I plotted the whole thing and am gonna try to update every weekend. I don’t anticipate this being more than like... 7-10 chapter? I’d love to keep it under 5 chapters but that might be trimming things down too much for my liking. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this little story!

AO3

Flashing lights and shrieks of his name greet James the moment the back door to his armored car is opened. His head of security ducks out first and James can only see a mass of feet and legs but it’s more than enough to let him know it’s a heavier than usual crowd. Not surprising, considering the news of his latest break-up just dropped while he’d been flying back from a visit to America.

He slides out of the car, helped by hands that pull him as much as guide him through the throng. He ignores the shouts of his name—telling him to look left or right or up or down or every combination therein—and the barrage of questions and jokes that aren’t funny.

Was it you or him that ended it?

Three weeks, is that a new personal record?

Another notch in the bedpost, eh James?

Got another beau lined up yet?

If you’re looking for candidates, what do we have to do to get our names in the running?

“Ignore them,” he mutters to himself, too quietly for anyone except his security team to hear.

In answer, one of them gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as they reach his front door. Someone has already unlocked it for him and the darkness within is a blessing he’s all too willing to be shoved into. The cacophony muffles once the door shuts, and finally he’s alone, a rarity for him. If it’s not his security, it’s personal assistants and writers and producers and photographers and the paparazzi.

Or his lover of the month, as the papers have taken to calling his partners.

But nope, his home is empty and quiet and bloody freezing. A shiver ripples up his spine as he treads to the thermostat controller. Summer finally released its hold on London, and the muggy heat has been replaced with a damp chill that burrows down into his bones.

Several button-presses later, James hears the familiar clank of the radiator and he can smell the heating kick on. It’ll take a while for his house to warm up, so James keeps his peacoat on for the time being as he putters around his home, checking the fridge and the cabinets. As always, they’re well-stocked. He hasn’t had to do anything as mundane as grocery shopping in the five years since his YouTube channel full of acoustic covers of popular songs went viral and landed him a lucrative deal with a prestigious record label. Only in his wildest dreams had he expected to find fame and fortune in the hobby he loved so much—for it to have actually happened still took him by surprise, as though any minute he’d be told “it was fun while it lasted, but it’s time for you to leave wonderland now.”

Shaking his head of those thoughts, he goes to the antique dining table that can easily seat ten people, which is great for holidays or in-home meetings, but just plain depressing every other day of the year. A stack of mail has piled up, and he spends the next five minutes attempting to sort it before giving up and telling himself he’ll look at it in the morning, once he’s not quite as groggy—transatlantic flights always take it out of him.

Instead, he rootles around his fridge until he comes up with the necessary items to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. With the prospect of food in front of him, James realizes he is starving. He shoves a whole slice of ham in his mouth while he assembles his pitiful meal, heaping on lettuce and sliced tomatoes as though that’s enough to negate the pile processed protein and greasy chips he layers in for crunch.

It’s tastier than any sandwich as a right to be, and he nearly makes himself a second one before catches sight of his phone screen and the slew of incoming notifications. His work is never finished, is it?

There are several texts from his publicist, Donna, welcoming him home and congratulating him on not making an arse of himself just by trying to walk up the front drive of his home. (To be fair, he felt entitled to channel his inner crotchety old man and tell reporters to get off his damn lawn if they encroached on his personal property.)

“Though some photos are surfacing of your trip to New York… Anything you need me to get ahead of?”

He rubs his fingers into his eyes, knowing she’s probably referring to his last night out in the city, where he went bar hopping until the wee hours of the morning to try to forget the text his subsequently-ex-boyfriend had sent him.

Thanks for everything, but I need to focus on my career. Cheers mate.

The career that James had kickstarted for him by introducing his rising actor boyfriend to several of his friends in the film industry, because James had been so damn desperate for affection that he’d once again let the wool get pulled in front of his eyes.

And so James had reached out to mates who lived in New York and they’d all gone out and acted half their age and had a wonderful time once James forgot about why he’d gone out in the first place.

But none of that now. Nope. No sir.

“Not that I’m aware of,” he replies. “Let me know if you catch wind of anything.”

Despite the fact that he only just got home and he’s jetlagged and still feeling the effects of his night out in New York, James can’t stay in his house right now. It’s so quiet that his brain is creating its own white noise. He can’t stand being in his head on a good day, and today is not a good day.

He grabs his keys and wallet and makes for the back of the house. His property is landlocked with the back gardens of other houses; the paps have learned the hard way that James is dead serious about protecting his neighbors’ privacy and will not hesitate to phone the police to arrest and sue anyone caught trespassing on private property to snag a photo of him. James hosts dinner for his neighbors several times a year and buys them gifts any chance he can to show his appreciation for their patience and tolerance.

In the dead of night, he slips out into his back garden, the crisp October air burning his lungs in the best way as he ducks his way through the neighborhood, his feet taking him far away from the crowd of reporters that are still stationed in front of his own home. Hopefully they’ll all have dispersed by the time he gets back. Perhaps he should have turned on music or a movie or something, made them think he was settled in for a lazy night in.

He wanders aimlessly for a while, enjoying this taste of freedom and trying to remember the days when he could leave out the front door of his flat without any fanfare.

It’s dark, and thick clouds obscure whichever moon phase they’re in, but the street lamps glow yellow on the damp pavement, lighting his way forward. A crisp autumn breeze ruffles his hair and the leaves, sending them tumbling around him and skittering across the residential street that’s so much quieter than the bustle of New York. It’s good to be home, though.

He arrives at a bus stop and catches one headed into the city proper. It’s no secret that James lives in London, and therefore the general population has gotten used to glimpsing him on the tube or walking on the street or frequenting pubs. He knows people snap quick photos of him, and he’s always happy to stop and pose for a selfie with respectful fans, but mostly he’s left alone when he’s out by himself like this.

Nevertheless, he hears the excited undertones of people trying to inconspicuously point him out to their oblivious friends. He keeps his head down, mindlessly opening and closing apps on his phone for something to do as he pretends he doesn’t notice them. He won’t be on the bus much longer anyway.

Several people get off the bus with him, including a group of teenage girls who are whispering heatedly among themselves. It’s almost funny, watching them debate amongst themselves before one of them approaches him.

She’s red-faced but determined as she blurts, “Can we get a photo?”

“Sure thing,” he says good-naturedly, inclining his head for them to come closer. “Need me to take it?” He holds out a lanky arm and flops it around a bit. “Got a longer reach than any of you.”

He’s certain one of the girls is about to start crying with joy as they all nestle into his side and hand him a new-model iPhone. Damn, it’s fancier than his own. When he was their age, he had an old flip phone that lost reception if he breathed on it wrong. It was a tank though—he’d dropped that thing hundreds of times, and nary a scratch.

“Do me a favor,” he says, handing the phone back to its owner, “and don’t ping our location if you post to social media, yeah? I appreciate it.”

“You’re my favorite person ever,” one of the girls squeaks.

His face splits into a grin and he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Is that so?”

The girls spend the next five minutes chatting with him about music and how they’ve been following him ever since his YouTube days. He listens and chimes in every now and then when they ask him a direct question, but he prefers being passive in exchanges like this, content to hear peoples’ stories. It makes him feel normal, if only for a little while.

Finally, they take their leave, and James turns in the opposite direction even though the destination he had in mind is down the street the girls had just taken. But he’s been burned far too many times by encounters with seemingly innocent fans, only for them to begin following him around and showing up outside his house to talk to him again. He makes a point of not drawing out public encounters with his fans.

He wanders down a street he’s vaguely familiar with, figuring he can backtrack in a couple blocks. The night is too beautiful for him to be upset about needing to take a detour.

Everything looks different in the dark, the glow of neon signs bathing everything in hues of greens and blues and pinks and yellows. Shops and restaurants are mostly shut up for the night, their windows dark or blinds drawn. Dingey motels with pay-by-the-hour rates are in full swing, as are the pubs that have a revolving door of people in varying states of intoxication.

Deep bass that he can feel all the way in his chest catches his attention, and he gets turned around a few times, but he eventually finds the establishment: Bad Wolf Brews. At first, he doesn’t think it’s open, and that he must be mistaken about where the music is coming from, but the heavy front oak door opens, and he realizes the glass on the door is tempered so that the interior lights don’t shine through. The music is clear and heavy and vibrating in his bones. He doesn’t think twice before catching the door before it closes and slipping inside.

The air is humid and smells of sweat and stale beer. Bodies are writhing and gyrating to the rhythm blasting through invisible speakers. The acoustics are phenomenal; none of the layers are lost and the sound quality is nearly as good as if he were listening to the record at home on his own stereo system.

The lights are low, and he’s sure he trips into a few people in the minute it takes for his eyes to adjust to the dimness, but finally, he’s at the bar. There are three open stools, and he claims one between a blonde woman and a red-haired man as he wonders what the hell this dive bar serves. He can see beer taps, but he’s more of a cocktail guy. He must look as lost as he feels, because the bartender hands him a menu that looks like it was hand-written and then photo-copied. It jives with the overall vibe of the pub.

The bartender checks in with him a minute later. James opens a tab and orders a sidecar sans sugar, and is pleasantly surprised by the quality. Not to make assumptions, but he’d figured an establishment such as this would have cheap liquor. If the alcohol in his drink is cheap, it’s well masked.

When he’s drained the last drop and about to signal for another, a hand rests on his shoulder. “Can I buy your next round?”

James looks up into the face of a stranger. It’s a woman with striking green eyes and a disheveled pixie cut. Judging by her crimson cheeks and glazed eyes, she’s three sheets to the wind. There’s buzzed, then there’s drunk, and then there’s plastered. He prefers not to let himself get to that last category, and by extension, he doesn’t really like to associate much with people who won’t remember the night come morning.

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he says with his most charming grin. “G’night.”

He has no idea if the woman knows who he is, but the way she shrugs and saunters to the gentleman sitting beside James, he doubts it.

He gets clumsily propositioned a few more times and always politely declines with a smile. So far, nobody here seems to recognize him and he is going to ride out this anonymity for as long as it’ll last. It has been too long since he’s been able to sit in a pub and drink quietly. Well, quietly, insofar as crazed fans or paparazzi aren’t harassing him—the music is loud enough that he’s sure to have ringing in his ears for a few hours once he gets home.

But he’s not really in any rush to get home, and so he orders his fourth cocktail before making his way to the loo. Alcohol goes right through him, and it’s nearly gotten him in trouble on tour a time or two.

There’s no line, but the loo is crowded, and he tries to ignore the double-takes as he stands in front of a urinal to take care of business. If he wakes up tomorrow morning to find that someone snapped a photo of him having a piss, he’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

Bladder tended to, James keeps his head ducked and shoulders his way back into the bar. His stool is unoccupied, and when he steps forward, he realizes why. A purse sits on it, seemingly reserving the seat but he can’t figure out for whom. He’s about to take the cocktail the bartender hands him and stand against the shadowed wall when someone picks up the purse.

It’s his blonde-haired stool mate. She flashes him a broad grin that lights up her entire face and squeezes something deep in his stomach.

“Saved your seat for ya,” she says with the ease and confidence of someone who’s known him his whole life.

“Thanks,” he manages through a suddenly dry mouth.

Feeling like an idiot for standing and gaping, he slips into his seat and downs half his new sidecar in one go. It’s as though the ice has been broken now, and she turns to him, her elbow on the counter and her cheek propped on her fist.

“Pretty sure you could outdrink a fish, mate,” she drawls, smiling again in that easy way that does too many strange things to his insides. “You’ve been knockin’ ‘em back for over an hour now.��

Has it really been that long? James checks his watch, and yup, it’s half past ten. The paps should be gone from his house by now, but he feels no draw to leave this place. The alcohol has left him pleasantly tipsy and warm, but he’s more drunk on the fantasy that he’s just a normal bloke having a nice night out in a newly-discovered dive bar.

“Fish don’t really drink though, do they? They absorb water through their gills via osmosis,” he replies, and he wants to bite his tongue off because what the fuck was that??

This woman, whatever her name is, doesn’t seem to mind his answer though, because her face scrunches in a giggle. His body is hot and throbbing with more than drink now, and he wants to hear that sound again but his brain has stopped working.

“Is that so different from you absorbin’ alcohol through your bloodstream?” she muses, finishing off whatever is in her short tumbler.

“Can I buy your next round?” he blurts rather than responding to her question, which he’s almost certain was rhetorical.

Her smile melts into something softer, something private and a little shy. “If you’d like.”

“I do.” He flags down the bartender and glances at his new companion expectantly.

“Gin and tonic,” she says. She thanks the bartender, then James when she takes her first sip. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

“James,” he says, feeling stupid because his face is plastered all over London, which likes to boast that it’s the home of international celeb James Noble. But wouldn’t he seem more of an arse if he just assumed this gorgeous woman knew who he was?

Nevertheless, his stomach sinks a bit when she snorts into her drink and says, “I thought it was you.”

“Yup, it’s me,” he forces, his voice flat. He hides his frown with his glass, knocking back the rest of his sidecar like it’s a shot. The room sways slightly with the violent motion of his head, and maybe he’s slightly drunker than he’d thought.

If Rose catches on to his sudden sour mood, she doesn’t mention it. “What brings you here to Bad Wolf?”

He shrugs and blows out a noisy breath. “I dunno. Went for a walk, ended up here.”

“Those are the best sort of adventures.” She hums wistfully. “Sometimes you find what you didn’t know you needed when you let yourself get lost.”

That observation is far too astute for his current state of mind, so instead he says, “Would you like to dance with me?”

Her eyes flicker across his face for a brief moment before she says, “Okay.”

He hops down from his stool, but Rose hesitates, clutching her purse and coat awkwardly. The bartender helpfully tells her to keep them on her stool, and he’ll keep an eye on it. Rose flashes him a grin that James would rather she flash at him, but he realizes that is utterly absurd, so he simply rests his coat on top of her things to better hide them from view. He then holds out his hand for her. Her palm is soft and warm against his as he leads her to the crowded dance floor.

They find space towards the back of the pub, hidden in the shadows of a hallway that states it’s closed off to patrons. And of course, of fucking course, right when he rests his hands on her hips to find the rhythm of the song, a new one comes on, and his own voice belts from the speakers.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. He loves his music—he made it, after all—but he can’t help but feel pretentious and more than a little silly to dance to it like this.

Rose, however, grins and says, “Oh, come on, this is one of my favorites.”

She catches his hands where he’d loosened them at her waist and forces him to grab hold of her. She’s wearing high-waisted trousers and a top that leaves a sliver of her belly exposed. His thumb grazes the skin of her bare side, and it’s enough to send tingles through his body. Rose, meanwhile, slings her arms around his shoulders and begins to rock her hips from side to side in sync with the bass, embellishing the motions until she looks absolutely ridiculous but so, so beautiful.

He can’t help but grin and laugh, and he mirrors her movements until they’re both dancing like idiots to his music.

“This is how my baby brother dances,” she explains, bouncing up and down while twisting her hips. “We have regular dance parties together.”

“How old’s your brother?” he asks.

“Just turned four.”

He blinks, and blood rushes from his face. “And… and how old are you?”

“A perfectly legal twenty-four,” she drawls, reaching up to flick his nose. “You can start breathing again.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s quite the age gap.”

“My mum got remarried when I was nineteen,” Rose says with a shrug. “She and my stepdad didn’t waste much time.”

“Clearly,” he mutters under his breath.

“It does feel a bit like they’ve started over,” Rose confesses with a too-stiff shrug. “New family, new life, and I’m the interloper.

There is no way this vivacious woman in front of him could ever be considered an interloper, but before he can tell her that, she continues, “Mum does her best to assure me otherwise, but still. It’s hard to watch all the things Mum and Dad are able to do for Tony—that’s my brother, Tony—when Mum struggled so much as a single mum with me.”

“Your dad’s not in the picture?”

A sad smile pinches her face, and he regrets asking.

“No, I never knew him. He died when I was a baby.”

“I… I’m so sorry.” Well, he’s totally buggered this all up, hasn’t he? He wracks his brain on how to salvage the easy banter they’d had at the bar, but draws a blank.

Rose seems to realize they’ve lost the mood, but she breaks out into a lazy grin and says, “Since you seemed so opposed to dancing to your own music, it’ll please you to know a new song’s on. C’mon, show me your moves.”

He’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and so he follows her lead, watching her dance her heart out until her cheeks are pink and her hair is damp with sweat. He’s sure he doesn’t look much better, since he can feel the perspiration beading down his back and beneath his arms, but he can’t bring himself to care. Tonight has been the most fun he’s had in a very long time. Clubbing in New York had been a lark, but he’s been swarmed by his American fans half the night, and had been busy drowning his latest heartbreak to fully enjoy it. But here, now, with Rose, it’s like he’s any other bloke in a pub, chatting up a pretty girl he wants to get to know.

Their bodies are wrapped around each other with the ease and grace of partners who have known each other for years, and he forgets that he has known Rose for all of a few hours. He never wants this night to end. He wants to cling to this fairytale and pretend that the clock isn’t about to strike the proverbial midnight.

But time marches on as always. The clock really does strike midnight, and the bartender begins to clear people out of his establishment. James is as exhausted as he is exhilarated, no longer drunk on booze but rather the company of Rose and the magic they made together by simply dancing the night away.

They head back to the bar to retrieve their coats and her purse, and to close out their tabs. James slides his credit card to the bartender and asks him to charge everyone’s tab to his card. If the bartender is surprised, he hides it well. A few minutes later, James is signing off on the receipt of purchase of several thousand pounds-worth of alcohol. His personal assistant is sure to be confused as hell when she wakes up to see the charge. He fires off a quick warning text to her so she doesn’t open up a fraudulent charge claim.

James salutes the bartender, knowing he’ll come back to this pub as often as he can until he’s found out and this place once again becomes somewhere that’s overrun with his fans.

The night is refreshingly cold when he and Rose emerge into it, a nice change after the stifling, sweaty heat of the bar. However, she hunches her shoulders against the chill, prompting him to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her into his side, all too eager to lend her some of his body heat.

“Can I walk you somewhere?” he asks, glancing around the street that is now full of the drunken patrons who’d been in the pub with them. They all disperse in different directions, stumbling home or to a different bar that is still open. “Or wait with you ‘til you catch a cab?”

“Yeah, sure,” she says, pulling up her phone to order a ride. She taps on the screen for a few quiet moments then says, “Done. Should be here in a few minutes.”

They descend into a slightly awkward silence that James wants to break, but he can’t think of anything clever to say. So he says nothing, and finally headlights wash over them, momentarily blinding them before a taxi pulls up.

“D’you wanna share?” she asks, opening the door to the back seat.

Is she as reluctant to leave him as he is to leave her? Or is she being polite and eco-friendly by ride sharing? Nevertheless, he nods and slides into the back seat beside her.

There is something incredibly intimate about sitting with Rose in the dark interior of the taxi, and he feels like he’s fifteen and wondering how to hold his date’s hand after a cheap night out at the cinemas. He fists his hands together, knotting his fingers until his knuckles pop.

The driver goes to the address Rose provides first, and all too soon they’ve arrived.

“I’ll cover the fare,” he says when she makes to hand over some bank notes to the diver. “It’d be my pleasure.”

She hesitates, but nods, then opens the door to climb out of the car. His pulse quickens as he watches her walk away with nothing but a, “Goodnight.”

“Can you wait just a minute?” he asks the driver.

“Meter’s still runnin’,” he grunts.

“That’s fine.”

James scrambles out of the taxi. “Hey, Rose?”

She turns back to face him, frowning.

“I… er… I had a great time tonight,” he says lamely, but her frown relaxes into a smile. “It was fun. With you. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” she answers.

He licks his lips; his mouth is bone dry and his pulse pounds in his ears, making his vision throb with each frenzied beat.

“Do you… do you maybe wanna do it again some time? Hang out together? I… I’d really like to see you again,” he says, cursing his clumsy, fumbling words.

She scrutinizes him for a long moment, her expression indecipherable. His stomach sinks. Maybe this was a one-off, a story for her to tell her mates.

You’ll never guess who I met at the pub last night. James Noble! He paid for all my drinks and we danced like idiots.

He stews in his misery of doubt, and just when he’s about to tell her to forget about it, she slowly nods.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Really?” he asks, a hopeful edge creeping into his voice.

She laughs. “Really.”

“Brilliant!” James fumbles in his pocket for his phone, and he thrusts it at her. “Give me your number? I’ll text you. Or call.”

He rocks back and forth on his toes and heels, waiting for her to finish up with his phone. He has a sudden, potent bolt of panic that she’s snooping through his private messages or photographs for something to use against him to make a quick profit, but before that panic can take root, she hands his mobile back to him. It’s open to a new texting conversation.

From: 🌹 Bad Wolf Girl 🌹

Now I’ve got your number too 😉

He beams at the name she’s given to herself in his contacts, then he pockets his phone.

“I’ll see you later,” he says.

“You better,” she replies with that knee-weakening smile he’s grown to love over the course of the night. “See ya.”

“Bye.”

He stands there like a moron until she’s safely inside, then he turns back to the taxi and climbs in. The deserted streets streak by as the driver takes him to his neighborhood. He never gives his address though; he always chooses a destination a few streets away, just in case.

James generously tips the driver and bids him goodnight before slipping into the night to his home. He was right: the paparazzi are gone. There is no fanfare as he slips his key into the lock and lets himself into his house. It’s warm and cozy, but still too quiet for his liking.

Between the plane ride and his night out, he feels greasy and disgusting, and indulges in a hot shower before bed. He washes Rose’s scent off of his body, an intoxicating blend of jasmine and vanilla that’s as sweet as it is musky.

He’s groggy by the time he crawls into his giant, king-sized bed and burrows deep into his mounds of pillows and duvets. One of his ex-girlfriends once teased that he turns into the marshmallow man when he sleeps.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and when he awakes with the sun the following morning, he feels more refreshed and invigorated than he ever remembers being. He’s got a full day of meetings with his songwriting team to brainstorm his next album, and he is ready.

But first, he checks his phone. There’s nothing from Rose, which makes him a little sad, but also nothing from his publicist, which is always a good sign. If ever she messages or calls him first thing in the morning, it always means there’s some sort of dumpster fire to put out. Usually a dumpster fire full of compromising photos of him.

He makes a point of not Googling himself, but he does occasionally check his social media pages for new posts about him, wanting to know when, where, and how his fans came across him in the wild. He easily finds the photo that he took with the group of teenage girls, and makes a point to like the original post and type a quick, “Nice to meet you all. Thanks for chatting with me last night - J” in the comments section. He snorts to himself as his comment blows up within seconds.

But other than some grainy photos of him riding the bus, he can’t find any other photos of himself. Nothing of him wandering the streets or drinking in the pub or even having a wee in the mens’ room. And best of all, there’s nothing of him and Rose. No photos of them dancing together or sharing a cab. If Rose has a social media account, it didn’t post any sneaky photos or bragging stories about dancing all night with James Noble.

He can’t quite believe it; he managed to have a fun night out drinking without it all being thrown back in his face the next morning. Within seconds, he’s grinning to himself and pulling up Rose’s contact information. It’s still in his phone, further proof that his night with her wasn’t some sort of jetlagged fever dream. She was real.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Thanks for last night.”

She responds almost instantly. Good morning to you too. I should be thanking you for paying my drink tab and taxi fare 😉 And for being an excellent dance partner.

“The pleasure was all mine, on all counts.” He sends that message, then types out a new one, “I’m gonna be in meetings all day (yes, I know it’s Sunday), so please don’t be discouraged if I don’t reply. But I’d really like to see you again. Want to do dinner or drinks or coffee or something?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, needing to make himself presentable for when his driver picks him up in an hour. Yet he can’t help but check his phone every three seconds, until finally there’s a message from Rose.

Yeah, I’d like that. I work ‘til five most nights, but I’m free after that. Or we can wait ‘til the weekend.

With spirits lighter than they’ve been in months, James steps out of his house with a broad, stupid grin that the ever-present crowd of paparazzi are all too happy to photograph.

#ficandchips #dwfic #doctorroseprompts #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #james x rose #yet another iteration of james and rose lmao #romance #meet cute #light angst #musician au #my fic #sacred new beginnings

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kilojulietsierra · 3 years

Text

Seis Dias - Prologue & Chapter One (Frankie Morales x OFC - Triple Frontier meets Six Days Seven Nights)

I watched Triple Frontier and Six Days Seven Nights in the same day awhile ago and... this happened over the weekend lol

It was a lot of fun to write and I hope y'all enjoy it too!

Notes - my Spanish is a work in progress, if there are any mistakes they are mine. Rating is lower than usual for me (T - on Ao3) but I have an idea for a bonus chapter at the end that would bump that up. Canon typical violence and language.

~~~~~ Summary~~~~~

A well known photographer on vacation with her new fiance just got called in on a once in a lifetime, last minute job for one of her biggest customers. Promising her fiance that it'll be a quick 2-3 day trip from the south american resort they're staying at to the job and back. With an overnight bag, her camera and a bribe for the... quirky pilot that flew them to the remote vacation spot, she takes off to the shoot.

A storm rolls in while they're in the air and the quick trip takes a dangerous turn.

Forced to land in the middle of the night when lightning strikes their plane the pair find themselves in the middle of the South American jungle with a wrecked plane and no way to get help and no way out of the jungle but to work together.

They survived the crash but that's the least of their concerns, the jungle has more than one danger lurking in its shadows.

~~~~~~ Prologue`~~~~~

Joanna was grateful to be out of the slush and snow but her annoyance with the February weather soon turned to annoyance towards the crowd of people in the lobby which she had found her shelter in. She shoved and excused her way through the frigid New Yorkers to the front desk, "Hi, I'm here for an appointment with," She was cut off by someone knocking into her camera bag, causing her to sway on her feet and clutch at the strap to keep it from slipping, "Excuse you. Anyway, Robin Monroe? Can you let her know I'm here"

"Floor seven, elevator bank is to your right." The receptionist had no clue that Jo had been here a dozen times already this month. She only glanced up to point to the general direction of the elevators as she reached for the phone receiver.

"Thank you." Joanna squeezed through the gap in the crowd and made a beeline for an elevator just opening. Her and the other elevator riders stood in silence, slowly filtering on and off as the floor numbers climbed. At the seventh floor Joanna took her leave and soon heaved in a deep breath at the wonderfully empty foyer of Ms. Monroe's publication office.

Making her way through the desks and design tables Joanna waved and greeted the familiar faces until she came face to face with a photo shoot set up in complete chaos. Backdrops set in disarray, layout mock ups scattered on the floor, makeup and hair assistants scurrying back and forth and in the center of it all Robin trying to direct the melee. "So... how's your day going so far?"

Monroe turned around in a snap and visibly sagged "Oh Joanna, you'll never believe!" She fell into the long and winding story of how the talent for this particular shoot had fell through and now everything, absolutely everything, was a disaster.

Joanna took a deep breath, situated her camera bag on her shoulder and pulled out her phone to shoot her boyfriend a quick text that she would probably be late getting home tonight.

Later when everything had calmed down and the shoot was completed, a success as far as Jo was concerned, Robin walked her to the foyer where one of the assistants met them with a huge bouquet of flowers. "These came awhile ago for Jo." The young girl informed them, giddy to see what the card said. "They're from Kyle," She grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet while Robin inspected the exotic flower arrangement.

Jo read aloud, "A surprise after a long day, love you, Kyle." She flipped the note over to find a reservation card for one of her favorite restaurants.

~~~

"Fancy flowers, fancy restaurant, what's going on?" Joanna teased as the hostess guided them to their table.

Kyle rolled his eyes, "Don't ask questions, it'll ruin the surprise."

Kyle was a handsome young man, tall and lean, blonde close cropped and perfectly styled hair, bright blue eyes and a worked as a shockingly successful stock trader for someone his age. He and Joanna made a striking couple and they both knew it. Especially Kyle.

Once they were seated and had placed their drink orders Jo pressed again, "Ok, you know I'm not a patient woman Kyle. What's up."

"Okay fine," he chuckled as he reached for the inside pocket of his suit jacket, "Close your eyes."

Jo balked slightly but at his insistent stare, did as he asked. When she was finally allowed to open them she gasped.

"Two weeks from now, you, me and six days, seven nights in paradise." Kyle swiped through pictures of an out of this world, boutique, trendy, South American beach resort."

"Oh my God." She watched as he swiped through the promotional photos; lit, edited and laid out in such a way that she could nearly feel the sand under her toes and the sun on her skin. When he put his phone away she turned to face him, "Kyle, you're not serious! That looks amazing! Are we really going?"

"We're really going. You always say you miss travelling and that I need to take more time off so... tada!" He said with pride and matter-of-factness that was his trade mark. "Are you excited baby?"

"So excited." Jo leaned in to give him a kiss and mentally begin counting the hours.

---

Day One

When they landed in Bogota Joanna swore that she felt a weight lift and her mind clear. All she could think of was being able to enjoy herself, truly, for the first time in a long time. She reached out and grabbed Kyle by the back of his shirt, "Wrong way." As he turned outside the terminal towards security and away from where they needed to go, to collect their luggage and then towards the charters.

"What?"

"Seguridad." she laughed and pointed at the sign he was about to walk under, "We want maletas, and then we have to find the charters, she pointed in the opposite direction. "This way."

Without saying anything he trailed along as she led the way, following the signs, correctly this time. Eventually they found themselves walking thorough the doors and onto a paved tarmac where two men where leaning against a small plane chatting and laughing.

"Disculpe me,"

Jo approached them and Kyle muttered under his breath."I always forget you can actually speak Spanish."

Joanna ignored him. The two men by the plane glanced up as Joanna continued, "Ayudame, por favor? Estamos buscando por..." she paused to pull up the name of the charter service, "Aire Tropical?"

The two men stood up a little straighter, the taller, scruffier of the two cocked his head as he looked her and Kyle over. "Well you found it." He said in a very American accent. He was tall and broad, his arms bulged slightly through the sleeves of his button down shirt. His jeans were faded and worn, so were the cowboy boots on his feet and the Standard Oil cap on his head. He slapped the other man on the back and then stepped up to Kyle and Joanna. "Franciso Morales." He extended his hand to Kyle and then Joanna, "Mucho gusto."

"Mucho gusto," She offered a small smile and was glad to see it returned.

"So you're the pilot?" Kyle asked, incredulous.

Franciso pulled his worn out cap off his head, ran his hand through his shaggy hair and placed it down again, "Umm, yeah."

"And you're American?"

The other man scoffed, short and silent, "Yeah, for the most part anyway. If you're ready to go, I am." He glanced over his shoulder to the plane.

"Great," Kyle interjected before Jo got the chance, "Could you grab the bags?"

Franciso looked to Kyle, his head cocking to the side again as he chewed thoughtfully on a piece of gum.

Joanna cringed, worried Kyle had offended their only ride to paradise.

His eyes jumped from Kyle to Jo and then back. When he smirked it was not in the pleasant friendly way it had been when they shook hands. "You bet."

After the pilot, Francisco, had grabbed their bags and took them to the plane Kyle pulled her aside. "I'm not sure how I feel about this hillbilly flying us anywhere."

Jo smacked his chest with the back of her hand, "Kyle." She glanced towards the pilot to see if he had heard, "He works for the resort. It's fine."

A shrill whistle interrupted them. "Angelica, vamanos!"

A leggy woman with perky breasts and a big smile came bouncing out of the charter hangar. 'Coming!" She giggled as she joined their little group, "Hello!" Her accent was thick and not from South America but Jo couldn't place it. "You must be the couple coming to the resort. I'm Angelica, I work their and I promise you are going to love it!"

For a brief moment Jo doubted that was true, but beside her Kyle was nodding enthusiastically.

~~~

The flight went perfectly well and Jo couldn't stop leaning to look out the small window at the jungle as it passed by beneath them in a blur of green and random villages on their way to the remote section of coast where the resort resided. At some point Francisco must have noticed her excessive staring, "Este es la tierra de los dios, no?'

Jo glanced back at him, seeing him watching her over the rims of his dark aviators and under the bill of his cap. She couldn't help but smile, "Verdad. Es... es increible. No tengo los palabras."

Francisco nodded. "Verdad." He smiled and turned back to the windscreen. everyone remained silent the rest of the flight.

~~~

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God." It was all Joanna could say upon setting eyes on the bungalow that would be theirs for the next week. The beach under her feet, the sea in front of her, jungle behind her and a bright blue sky above her. She was in paradise. Truly.

"I know right." Kyle dropped the bags by the door and joined her outside. "It's perfect." He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her head as she leaned back into him. "This is perfect."

~~~

The first thing Joanna did was put on her bikini and a pair of shorts, grabbed her camera, and headed for the beach. For a change it wasn't model wannabes, actor hopefuls, suburban families or Instagram influencers in front of her lens. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken pictures just for the enjoyment of it. It was the most amazing feeling. Without even thinking about it she spent the whole afternoon wandering the beach and the resort snapping pictures. The ocean, the jungle, the mountains, young couples playing in the surf and lovers cuddled in the shade.

Joanna hadn't realized how late it was until she came back to the bungalow to find Kyle dressed for dinner in pastel shorts and a linen shirt. "Was beginning to wonder if you got lost or something. Got out of the shouer and you were gone."

"Sorry." She shrugged out of her camera strap, "Wanna see what I found?" Jo clicked some buttons on her camera and turned it so Kyle could see the screen.

"I made reservations at the restaurant for us tonight. Why don't you go get ready."

~~~

Dinner had been amazing and when the restaurant served drinks and desert a band had started playing. Couples all around them were attempting their best Tangos or Cumbias but Joanna was worried about Kyle. He had been off ever since Bogota and she worried her wandering off hadn't helped matters.

Just when she was about to ask him he took a sip of his cocktail and cleared his throat. "Joanna." He leaned forward, "Do you know what tonight is?" He took her blank stare as a no, "This is our anniversary. Well unofficially at least, it's the anniversary of the day we first met. Three years ago."

Realization hit her, "Oh, the cab! We fought over a cab and I called you an asshole." She chuckled.

"It's okay, it was worth it. All part of the journey." He stared at her, clear blue eyes glinting in the candles and tiki torches.

Joanna smiled, unsure of what to say. Instead she just stared at his handsome face. Then out of nowhere he was kneeling in front of her, staring at her, his hand reaching into his pocket as the diners around them all collectively began to notice, and look their way.

"Joanna..." He looked as if he was considering his words carefully, hoping to be long and eloquent but found nothing, "Will you marry me?"

Awestruck Jo blinked at him, heart in her throat and forgetting to breath. Now she was the one at a loss for words. So, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him while the rest of the diners applauded and cheered.

---

Chapter Two/Day Two - Read Here!

#frankie morales #francisco morales #catfish #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales x ofc #frankie morales triple frontier #triple frontier #pedro pascal

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limjaeseven · 3 years

Text

Tomorrow, Today (2/8)

Verse 2: Part 2 of 8

Pairing: Jinyoung X Jaebeom

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 3,534

Summary: Jinyoung and Jaebeom set off on a journey of a lifetime, promising to never let go, but things rarely end up the way you want them to be

Warning(s): Character death

[a/n]: Written as part of @got7writerscollective‘s Flight Log: The Journey project.

Jaebeom stuffed random clothes into his well-worn leather duffel bag that his father had gifted him for his fifteenth birthday as his mother watched him, her body resting against the door frame of her son’s room. He plucked a few books off his shelf, his diary and some pens from his desk, a few of his favourite hats and some accessories scattered across his room.

“Do you have to do this, Jaebeom?” The man just sighed heavily, turning to his mother and wrapping her in a warm hug.

“It’s time mom, I promised Jinyoung I’d do this for him. If I don’t do it now it’ll never happen,” Jaebeom said, using the cuff of his sleeve to wipe away the stray tear on his mother’s cheek.

Jinyoung stepped out of his building to see Jaebeom in the driver’s seat of his father’s old sedan, his feet up on the dashboard, head resting on his palms behind his head. It was still early in the morning, the sun hadn’t risen properly and there was still a chill in the air. Holding onto the strap of his bag tightly, Jinyoung took a deep breath before knocking on the passenger side glass of the car, grabbing the elder’s attention.

He quickly sat up straight up, pushing the door open for Jinyoung to get in. The younger’s bag was small enough to throw into the back seat through the gap between the two front seats so he dumped it there next to Jaebeom’s leather duffle bag before turning to Jaebeom and nodding.

The drive to the airport was quiet, the radio turned to low as Jinyoung looked out of the window at the Seoul skyline. The ride was short, and before they knew it they were at the airport. Jinyoung didn’t bother asking what Jaebeom would do about the car, he knew that the elder would have planned out everything with at most care.

That was one thing that always surprised Jinyoung, because, for as laid back and carefree Jaebeom looked, he was a perfectionist, needing absolutely everything to be just as he wanted it to be. He had planned his entire life by age sixteen, despite how things would change in the future. Even when things didn’t go his way he considered it a sign and amended his plan to still satisfy his vision.

They didn’t talk much as they got through security, heading to the food court to get some food before heading to the boarding gate to wait for their turn. The airport was crowded, the only two empty seats were with their backs together. Sighing, they sat on either side, the backs of their heads resting against each other’s.

Jaebeom pulled out a book from his bag while Jinyoung put on his earphones to listen to an audio book. When people said they were opposites but somehow the same, they meant it. The two were perfect reflections of each other, exactly the same but different enough to see a difference. It wasn’t long before the announcement was made for their flight, quickly packing up their things before walking to the boarding gate.

Jaebeom got the window seat but after one pout from Jinyoung he ended up between the younger and a middle aged man, not like he really minded it. Like every time they flew together, Jinyoung chose a movie on his screen and gave Jaebeom one of the earbuds, the elder leaning his head against the younger’s shoulder as they settled in for their three hour flight.

Arriving at Asahikawa airport, they headed to the car hire booth. Jaebeom had called them in advance, booking a pick up truck for their trip. After picking up the keys, they went down to the car park and found the vehicle, throwing their bags in the back before climbing in and driving off.

Jinyoung was the one who found the T junction in Hokkaido, he had wanted to visit Japan for a long time and was scrolling through tourist photos when he saw it. Something about it called to him and he showed it to Jaebeom, desperate to see it as soon as he could. Jaebeom’s face faltered for a moment when he saw the photo but promised him that he would personally take the boy there.

They later found out that there were two villages exactly 10 kilometres on either side of the road, both nearly identical, just mirrored, and Jaebeom bet Jinyoung that they’d both walk the distance on either side and find the motel in their respective village and call each other, before retracing their steps back. Jinyoung wrote down the name and number of the motels that very night and had Jaebeom keep the piece of paper he wrote it on in his wallet.

Three years later they were in a pick up truck in Hokkaido, driving the three hundred kilometre drive to their destination. They left the airport at almost noon, a map spread across Jinyoung’s lap, Jaebeom in the driver’s seat, their phones switched off in their bags.

“Hyung, why now?” Jaebeom smiled, his eyes still on the road.

“I just knew it was time. You’re turning twenty five tomorrow, you’re not the small child I met in first grade anymore” He reached over to ruffle the younger’s hair, his expression proud.

“If I’m not a kid anymore then can I finally call you Jaebeom-ah? You’re not even a year older than me, yeah, Lim Jaebeom?”

“Regardless of how old you are, you’ll always be my dongsaeng, brat. Don’t even try to convince me that you don’t need to call me hyung anymore,” Jaebeom just chuckled at Jinyoung’s pouting and whining.

They pulled out of the metropolitan area into the more rural regions of the island, either side of the road lined with wheat plantations, a month too late to be harvested as compared to normal but global warming wasn’t affecting just humans. The roads stretched to as far as the eyes could see, small huts and settlements the only signs of human life.

They drove at a calm pace, enjoying the fresh air and beautiful scenery, stopping every hour or two to take a few pictures here and there. Just as they were about to start looking for a place to find some food, they drove by a small roadside restaurant selling cheap meals. Parking their truck a few meters down the road, they stepped out and walked across to the establishment and ordered two bowls of ramen.

The tables were made of wood and there were long benches on either side instead of chairs in the restaurant. Jaebeom and Jinyoung settled on either side of the table, their food arriving soon after. Watching the two of them eat together was fascinating, as Jaebeom stuffed his mouth full of noodles while Jinyoung ate small bites, picking at his food.

Filled to the brim with hot soup, they stocked up on some water and snacks before setting off again, looking for a clear patch of land to spend the night. There was a small clearing among the fields that was big enough for their tent a few kilometres down from the restaurant so they parked their truck by the side of the road and set up.

It wasn’t cold enough for them to need a fire, curling up close in a big sleeping bag was enough heat to get them through the night. They laid outside the tent on the dry grass for a while, gazing at the stars once the sun set.

“Hyung, do you think that there’s a star in the sky for the ones we’ve lost?” Jinyoung mused.

“I hope so, sometimes. That way I can look over you once I’m gone” Jaebeom whined as Jinyoung hit his arm

“Who said you’re allowed to die before me? Just cause you’re a few months older doesn’t mean you’re going first. I’ll become a ghost and haunt you till you die, instead” They laughed together at the younger’s childishness, sharing some snacks between themselves.

“I’m serious Nyoungie, I’ll always be with you, regardless of where we are” Jinyoung turned on his side, resting his head against his hand and looked down at Jaebeom, smiling as the elder looked away from the sky to lock eyes with him.

“You’re so melodramatic, hyung” Jinyoung said, dropping back onto the grass, one hand searching for Jaebeom’s. He laced their fingers together once he found it, holding it against his chest as they continued to talk about random things, worries floating away with the soft breeze of the night.

When Jinyoung started yawning, Jaebeom decided it was time to call it night, pulling the younger into the tent to lie down. They cuddled close to each other, sleeping bag pulled tightly around their bodies. Jinyoung felt an unexplainable sense of safety, wrapped in Jaebeom’s broad shoulders, his firm chest cradling the younger’s back as they whispered nonsense in each other’s ears.

It made Jinyoung recall the countless nights they spent in his backyard, the few square feet of open space, their own little world, one with no one but them. Jinyoung had told Jaebeom every thought, every memory, every secret during those nights, protected by the black sky and the arms around his waist as he sat in the elder’s lap, his back resting against a worn out lawn chair.

It was just before dawn when Jinyoung’s eyes opened, the warmth around his body missing. Panic took over his system for a moment as he tried to rack his brain to figure out why he was alone. Just as he was about to shout for Jaebeom, the elder stepped back inside the tent to call Jinyoung to watch the sunrise, the soft smile on his face flooding Jinyoung’s body with relief. They had a breakfast of mandarins and granola bars before packing their things up and getting back into the truck.

The roads were clear everywhere they went, not a soul in sight. Fields turned to trees turned to proper forests on either side of their path, becoming their only companions on the journey. The conversation flowed easily, topics light, changing quickly like the vegetation around them.

Jinyoung doesn’t remember a time when Jaebeom had smiled so brightly. For most of the time that he had known the elder, it felt like Jaebeom was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He doesn’t remember seeing the elder laugh so loudly, with his head thrown back at Jinyoung’s dad jokes.

There was always a reason for Jaebeom to hate the world, for as wise and kind he was, it always felt like he was fighting demons that no one but Jinyoung could see, but even then, the younger never knew what they were. Jinyoung remembers the day he told Jaebeom about Japan, after that one brief moment, as the idea sunk into his body, as he accepted it into his heart, it became part of Jaebeom’s grand plan.

There would be days where he would talk about nothing but their trip, like it was the one thing that kept him going. Jinyoung couldn’t lie that his heart fluttered when Jaebeom talked about spending that experience of his life with the younger, proof that he meant as much to the elder as the elder meant to him.

As they reached a part of the forest that was nothing but dark green, reminding Jinyoung of the fences of his backyard that made up the borders of his world, he asked the elder to stop. They stepped out of the truck, Jaebeom pulling out his camera to click some photos before finding his book and sitting down on the road, facing the way they just came. Jinyoung grabbed his earphones and a sketchbook, sitting with his back against Jaebeom’s, facing the route they would take ahead.

About an hour later Jaebeom checks his watch, a gift from his mother to him and Jinyoung, who had a matching one in silver as compared to Jaebeom’s one in gold. The watch ran on their heartbeat, as long as they were breathing and alive, the watch would keep running. They had about five minutes to rest if they wanted to reach the junction before sunset. He bent one arm back to tap at Jinyoung’s shoulder, who jumped at the touch, having been lost in his sketch.

They got back on the road soon after, the drive rather quiet as they took in the fresh air, pulling the windows down and admiring the view. Halfway through Jaebeom was sick of driving so they stopped to switch places but instead of climbing into the front, he hopped into the back of the truck, smiling at Jinyoung through the small window between them.

He sat like that for the following hour plus, just admiring the path behind them as Jinyoung surged forward. After a while Jinyoung started whining, complaining that he was too lonely so they stopped again and Jaebeom got out of the back to sit in the front, next to Jinyoung.

“Hyung, where do you see yourself five years into the future?” Jaebeom chuckled at the question, a hint of bitterness laced in his voice as he pondered for a moment.

“By your side” Jinyoung just whined at the elder’s cheesy answer.

“I’m serious, hyung. Would you have found a pretty girl by then? You’d be 30, would you want to settle down, perhaps?” Jinyoung took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at the elder’s face, perplexed at the knowing smile on his face.

“Wouldn’t you want to know, Jinyoungie?” The elder teased.

“Don’t tell me you have a secret girlfriend you haven’t told me about, that would break my heart Lim Jaebeom,” The elder just chuckled, much to Jinyoung’s dismay.

“Don’t worry Jinyoung, I would never hide anything from my best friend” Jinyoung beamed at the elder, his suspicions slowly fading, despite the hint of guilt on the elder’s face.

They stopped at a farmer’s market they stumbled across to restock on food before they took off on the last leg of their journey. According to the map and their calculations, it would take less than two hours for them to reach the junction.

Jaebeom pulled out a few mandarins from the bag and peeled them as Jinyoung drove, feeding pieces to the younger to make sure he kept his eyes on the road.

“What about you, Jinyoung? Where do you see yourself in five years?” Jinyoung held back a comment about the lack of creativity in Jaebeom’s question as he thought about his answer.

“Probably buying a house and working a better job. I love living with my parents, but I feel like its high time I lived on my own”

“What about you finding a girl? Do you have a secret girlfriend I don’t know about, Nyoungie?” Jinyoung didn’t answer the question, but he couldn’t stop the redness from rising to his ears.

“Don’t tell me, you found someone, didn’t you? How could you not tell your hyung, Jinyoung? I’m so hurt. And there you were, accusing me of having a girlfriend” Jinyoung vehemently denied the elder’s accusations, mumbling something under his breath that sounded like ‘if only you knew’ before Jaebeom dropped the topic.

Jinyoung’s face lit up though, when he started recognising the scenery he had seen in the photos, slowing the truck down as the junction came into sight, right in front of them. He stopped just before it, both of them pushing the doors open to run towards it.

“Ready?” It was all Jinyoung could say at that moment, overwhelmed by emotions. They were finally where they had dreamed to be for years. They left their bags in the truck, knowing that they should reach either side before sunset.

Once more, they pressed their backs against each other’s mirroring the large arrows signalling the directions just behind them. Their fingers laced at their sides, and two deep breaths later they set off, with a promise to not look back.

Jinyoung walked confidently, determined to not turn. They had promised each other that they wouldn’t chicken out, not even glance back at each other as they walked. Jinyoung didn’t stop once, he let his feet drag him forward at an even pace.

The scenery was gorgeous, one side covered in trees and the other with flat fields that stretched out infinitely. He kept walking, ignoring the welling urge to turn back. Even after he was far enough to be sure that he wouldn’t be able to see the elder even if he turned around, he still felt the pull inside himself, just to check once.

A story he had heard once came to his mind. Yugyeom, his cousin, was a big fan of Greek mythology and had narrated to him the legend of Orpheus and Eurydice, of how young Orpheus’s love, Eurydice had died of a viper bite and he went down to hell to bring her back. Hades had accepted his request with the one condition that he would not turn back to look at her.

Determined to leave with her he had walked on, but the urge became too strong as he doubted the lord of the underworld and wondered if he had tricked the poor man. In the end he did turn back, and Eurydice was there, but she would no longer follow him back home.

Jinyoung scolded himself for recollecting the tragedy, it only spurred on his fear that something might be wrong, that Jaebeom himself turned around to walk towards Jinyoung. The younger looked at his watch to check the time, it read 1:29. He had been walking for nearly an hour and he was growing far too worried.

That’s when he did it, he turned around and looked back. As he had expected, he could see nothing but the endless road in front of him, not a sign of Jaebeom anywhere. It was as if the world had stopped around him for a moment, and he checked his watch once more to make sure it didn’t. The second hand seemed to hesitate for just a second, as if counting the same second twice, before running back as normal. It counted twice at 1:31:23.

It was almost four in the afternoon by the time he reached the village, immediately recognising the motel from his research. Walking in, he asked the receptionist if they had received a call from one Lim Jaebeom but they said they hadn’t which meant that Jaebeom hadn’t arrived yet. He waited for ten minutes before ringing up the other motel and described Jaebeom to them, asking them to inform the elder when he arrived and tell him to call back.

Deciding to take the extra time to take some rest before he set off back to the truck, Jinyoung bought a peach flavoured water from the vending machine in the lobby and settled down on one of the couches. Before he could put his wallet back though, he saw a piece of paper in it that he didn’t recall putting there.

Opening it, he realised it was a print out of their e tickets Jaebeom had booked for the trip. He would have put it in his wallet at some point during the security check, Jinyoung thought to himself. But as he read through it, his eyes blew open.

Jaebeom had only booked three tickets in total, one ticket to and from Hokkaido for Jinyoung but only a single ticket for Jaebeom to Hokkaido. The elder had not booked himself a return ticket. Jinyoung tried to convince himself that it was probably a mistake but he knew Jaebeom way too well. Was the elder not planning to go back with him? Was he planning to ditch him? A million thoughts ran through Jinyoung’s head but he was pulled out of it when the landline at the reception rang.

“Hello? Mr. Park? We have some unfortunate news to share with you” Jinyoung felt his knees wobble as he heard the voice of the old lady on the other end of the landline.

The next thing he knew he was surrounded by stark white walls and the smell of disinfectant. He didn’t even get to see Jaebeom, he just met the doctor outside the ICU who stopped him from rushing inside. The man held him back and kept saying something that Jinyoung couldn’t hear, he just wanted to see his hyung and see him that very moment.

BREAKING NEWS

Lim Jaebeom, a 25 year old man from Korea found collapsed by the road turning left from the famous Hokkaido T junction. He was pronounced dead on arrival. The man was found to be suffering from a rare type of cancer diagnosed at birth, which was declared the cause of death.

Jinyoung doesn’t remember fainting, he just knew that his eyes opened to see a picture of Jaebeom laying on the road, the news reporter speaking in Japanese that Jinyoung could barely decipher. The elder’s face was turned away from the camera, the only thing that Jinyoung could see through the tears was his watch. It read 1:31:23.

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l1ttlecreatures · 3 years

Text

owen harper’s badges

i was struggling looking for places to get owen’s badges (and just find out what the badges actually were tbh) so now that i have finished im gna share my knowledge with u all

if i missed any lmk and ill add them<33

lets start off easy dkjfh

red che guevara badge

this is a pretty common find

very easy to find ; ‘che guevara badge’ in ebay or etsy would do the trick

here is one: Che Guevara BUTTON PIN BADGE 25mm 1 INCH Political Student Cuba Face Revolution | eBay

uk subs badge

i love this band i will not lie 10/10 recommend

the photos we have of this are unclear - the badge looks mottled, like it could be khaki coloured in some photos, but there are no signs of badges like this online, so we could say its one of the more common black badges, but vintage, and has been weathered with time ? which honestly it looks more black in some shots than green

looking at different listings it does look like they fade to be greeny but i do not know

i dont have anything else to suggest so im going to blame it on weird lighting in the hub and move on

the plain black one is a common badge, one of the first things to come up when you type in ‘uk subs badge’ online (here is one for ur convenience UK Subs - Name Button Badge (rockbymail.com))

che guevara pop art badge (srry for lq image)

this one took me a while to find, but thats only because i made a spelling mistake and didnt realise for ages

id say its a pretty common badge, but it is out of stock everywhere- i put my email in on the site though so ill update the post if it comes back in stock (this site- Button, badge CHE GUEVARA - pop art | Tips for original gifts (ukposters.co.uk))

i managed to get one off of ebay, through a one-off auction, i dont imagine itd be too rare for that to happen again so just keep an eye out

manufactured by pyramid international, but is not on their site

8 ball badge

theres a lot of similar badges out there, and getting one slightly different probably wouldnt hurt that much

i managed to find an exact dupe on ebay (id drop the link but i got the last one)

this is a similar one: 8 Ball Pool 1 Inch / 25mm Pin Button Badge Black Snooker Billiards Hustler Fun | eBay

u can characterise it by the artificial reflection spot

crass anarchy and peace badge

to get an exact dupe of this badge would be pretty hard- i cant find a place that makes them with the red like owen’s instead of the black

because of this, im assuming that owen’s badge is a genuine one

if you want an exact one then keep ur eyes peeled on the likes of ebay, depop, etsy, etc one will turn up eventually

if ur lazy then a safe bet is probably just to get one made, or deal with it being a different colour (heres a link to one of those Crass - Anarchy & Peace - Button Badge - 25mm Punk Badges, Fridge Magnet Option | eBay)

john lennon badge

just a badge with john lennon on i found it pretty easily

John Lennon LP Cover badge Official Merchandise | eBay

siouxsie sioux badge

another punk icon i love siouxsie so much

this one took me FOREVER to find and it was so worth it i actually think its sick

this is the site i got mine from;

Siouxsie & the Banshees - Underwear Button Badge (rockbymail.com)

the clash badge

again... adore this band

i got the first one i saw on ebay, from this seller: THE CLASH Button Badge UK Punk Rock Band - London Calling, Combat Rock 25mm Pin | eBay, there is one left and i cant find another (red) for sale at the moment

there are a lot of similar looking badges out there, namely the same badge but with black text instead of red, which would work just fine (THE CLASH Button Badge - UK Punk Rock Band London Calling, Combat Rock 25mm Pin | eBay)

sex pistols im a mess badge

owen has good taste in bands

this one is pretty simple to find!! (was nice to have an easy one for a change)

owens looks to be light brown with blue text in some photos and then just look b+w in others; ur call

heres a link but if you look it up then youre almost guaranteed to find one

sex pistols im a mess | eBay

circle-a badge

kind of just ur bog standard circle a

if u want the exact badge then heres the link but ngl noones going to tell the difference between it and any other

Punk Rock Anarchy Symbol 25mm Button Badge (thevinylfrontierbarry.com)

i got my eight ball and sex and drugs and rock n roll badge (below) from the same ebay seller and they included a free one, and i love them for it

sex n drugs n rock n roll badge

pretty standard tbh

theres a few on ebay but if u google it then theres loads!!!

you didnt need me to tell u this

here is one: SEx n Drugs N rock n Roll 1 inch 25mm Button Pin Badge Punk Skin | eBay

and here is a holographic one because who does not enjoy a holographic badge SEx n Drugs N rock n Roll 1 inch 25mm Prism Button Pin Badge Punk Skin | eBay

yellow and black tongue stick out badge

this was one that i really had trouble with for some reason like i just could not find an exact match

i found a glittery one which honestly was very exciting for me

if you know where to get this badge pls hmu !!

manic street preachers badge

again, this is one i was unable to locate, unfortunately

this one was really bugging me so i made a post in forum to try and locate it, but i still came up empty handed. i think the best bet would be to get one custom made.

the text appears to be the logo on the front of their first studio album, generation terrorists (1992). i recommend btw.

like the last one, if u have any info on where to get one of these then hmu !! ill add it

sex pistols rock n roll swindle badge

this badge had me confused for a while ngl

for a while i was sure that it was a different band and spent uh. quite a while looking for a badge that matched that description and then i checked my list again and i had a lightbulb moment where i realised that there were two sex pistols badges and id only done one (i may be stupid)

not that this realisation changed much as i still wasnt able to track one down anywhere

i played around in some editing software and made a (pretty bad but shhh) template thingy? which u can use to get ur own badge printed somewhere idk

onto the final badge (thats if i didnt forget one)

go deh badge

original badge manufactured by london based brand better badges (known for being one of the biggest exporters of punk badges in the 70s and 80s)

i cant find a place to recover one of these badges - i can only find two pictures of it online (that arent torchwood screenshots)

your best bet would to be get one made i reckon

i also made a template thingy for this one in case u wanted to get ur own printed. the font i used was futura condensed bold in case u wanted to do ur own (instead of using my ugly little attempt)

bonus: the frankenstein patch

Curse Of Frankenstein Sew On Patch Hammer Horror Film Movie | Etsy

dont think i missed any but in case i did then let me know!!! ill try my best to find them

thank u for reading hope i helped ! <333

when i was identifying some of his badges this post by scarecrowprops on ig really helped (https://www.instagram.com/p/CLuW01IjliB/) nd also this post (https://iant0jones.tumblr.com/post/141100170804/owens-badges-on-his-lab-coat/amp)

#torchwood #owen harper #torchwood three #spent way too long on this

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justlurkinnothurtin · 3 years

Text

Soooooo I wrote thing based on a post I saw on @buggachat which was originally posted by @flashflashitsash. Enjoy reading about Adrien stuck in an uncomfortable after dinner discussion.

(Also, I really hope I’m doing this right. I was inspired by said post which pondered the concept that Adrien has not received the talk from anyone in the Agreste household. I took that idea and ran with it, but I wanted to make sure everyone was credited properly. If there is something I should be doing, please let me know.)

Nathalie takes a deep breath. She knocks on the heavy oak door twice before entering Gabriel’s office. Per Gabriel’s request to keep meetings short, she skips the greetings and the pleasantries and speaks directly to the heart of the matter. “Sir, the housekeepers are refusing to clean Adrien’s room.”

Gabriel doesn’t bother looking up from the touch screen. He continues to review designs submitted by staff as he discusses the issue with his assistant. “Adrien picks up after himself, so his room is usually easy to clean. Why is housekeeping refusing to clean Adrien’s room?”

Nathalie stalls. She knows her boss is never in a good mood, doubly so when his in-laws visit. “They found a cheese in his room.”

Gabriel stops futzing with his work. He looks over at Nathalie for clarification. “I’m not following. Did they find a moldy cheese that was somehow forgotten about?”

The assistant chooses her words carefully to convey the situation without being too direct. “They found a smashed cheese. Under his pillow. In his bed.”

Gabriel considers new bits of information. “I see.”

No one speaks as the reality of the situation settles. The silence in the room grows palatable. Nathalie breaks the silence first. “I’m not talking to your son about his… habits. That is not in the scope of my job as your assistant.”

Gabriel scowls and growls his words at Nathalie. “I didn’t ask you to.” Gabriel pulls up his calendar. The next several days look very busy. “Clear my schedule for this evening. Adrien and I will be having dinner alone, after Amelie and Felix leave.”

“Yes sir.” Nathalie taps on her tablet to begin rescheduling as she walks out of the office.

Later that evening

Adrien and Gabriel eat dinner in silence. As Gabriel finishes his meal, he pushes his plate away and leans back in his chair, waiting for Adrien to finish. Adrien notices his father’s not-quite relaxed posture. Adrien breaks the ice. “It was nice to have dinner with you, Father. Do you have another meeting you need to get to? If not, then we could watch a movie or play game.” The son does his best to hide his excitement at the prospect of being able to spend some quality time with his father. Dinners together are rare, and rarer still is spending time together after.

The light glints off the father’s glasses in a foreboding manner. Gabriel settles in for a serious discussion. “Actually, before we do anything else, we need to talk.”

“Talk? Did I do something wrong?” A wave of disappointment crashes over Adrien. It seems like his father only ever talks to him if something was not up to standards.

Gabriel reframes the conversation away from wrong-doing. “Not wrong per se, but concerning.” Gabriel takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts. “Everyone has urges. It’s natural to seek out a release from such urges, but you should never use food or everyday objects for such a release. Those activities should be limited to your hands, object designed for the task, or a consenting partner. I would appreciate it if you held off on the last one until you were older.”

Adrien’s eyes become pinpoints. The confusion sets in. “What are you talking about?”

Gabriel is not amused. “If you’re creative enough to use cheese, then I’m sure you’re creative enough to figure how to use your hands, Adrien. I’ll make sure your room is stocked with tissues and lotion from now on. No more keeping whole cheese wheels in your room. Food belongs in the kitchen.”

Adrien rests his elbows on the table and sinks his head into his hands. He wonders aloud and mostly to himself. “What is happening right now?”

Gabriel’s face somehow grows sterner. He relays the facts of the day’s earlier incident to his son. “A used cheese was found under your pillow. No should have to clean up after your… activities.”

A look of realization flashes across Adrien’s face. He remembers Plagg complaining about Felix ruining the cheese Plagg had been aging. “I promise I didn’t do whatever it is you think happened to that cheese.”

A sigh of relief makes its way through the older Agreste. Gabriel is relieved that his child is not into cheese. Unfortunately they still have more to address. “I believe you, but the rest of this discussion is important information we should have talked about earlier. Concerning consenting partners; no Gabriel brand or household employees, no one from competing brands, and you should avoid anyone from your pool of fans.”

Adrien looks up at his father. The younger Agreste’s brows furrow as he checks his understanding. “So basically my classmates or Kagami?”

Gabriel rejects the suggestion almost by reflex. “Not Kagami. If things turned sour it could affect the agreements between Gabriel and Tsurugi.” They could not afford to lose the contract with Tsurugi concerning factories in the east.

“So my classmates?” asks Adrien.

Gabriel scratches his chin and reconsiders. “Doesn’t one of your classmates run the Ladyblog? Not her either. In fact, no journalists.”

Adrien raises one eyebrow. He thinks he is starting to catch on to the discussion. “Alya? I’m pretty sure she’s dating Nino.”

Gabriel reminds himself that Emilie would want to present a united and accepting front just in case their son needed the reassurance concerning his orientation. “Nino would be okay if you’re into that sort of thing, but he’s still not allowed inside our house.”

If he was into that sort of thing? Adrien’s confusion grew, but he attempted to set the record straight. “Just so I understand, consenting partners cannot be your employees or household employees, employees of a competing brand, journalists, people that could affect contracts in which Gabriel the brand is involved, and shouldn’t be any of my fans, but could be Nino.”

Gabriel nods his confident his son was catching on. “Exactly.”

Adrien asks the question that has plagued him since the beginning of the conversation. “What are they consenting to?”

Gabriel covers his face with one hand. “Honestly, it could be a lot of things, but everyone should be on the same page before you start.”

The answer from Gabriel is not helpful. Adrien tries to get a more direct answer from his father. “Start what?”

Gabriel wishes Emilie to wake up at that moment, like he does every time he feels like he is flubbing a delicate conversation. Gabriel speaks only one word with gravity to impart his meaning. “Activities.”

The gravity of the spoken word does not work on the teenaged son. Adrien pauses and thinks of the few times his father allowed him to leave the house and what he was allowed to do. Adrien lights up believing he has figured out his father’s puzzling statements. “Oh! Like practicing with Marinette, or with the girls in the park, or at the ice skating rink with Luka, Marinette and Kagami, or with everyone on the house boat.” He remembers too late that he only got permission from his father to practice video games, to go ice skating and to go to see Kitty Section during the music festival. He never got permission to do the photo shoot with the girls in the park. Oops.

Gabriel now wishes he was dealing with a child who was into cheese. The name Marinette rings a bell. Oh god. Marinette is name of Tom and Sabine’s daughter, and Adrien admits to using her for practice. Gabriel prays Adrien means some other Marinette, so he doesn’t have to deal with the fall out of upsetting the best bakery in Paris. With the mention of Kagami, the Tsurugi contract is dead. “… did everyone take proper precautions?”

Adrien thinks back to ice skating and to listening to loud music. “Do you mean helmets, knee pads, and ear plugs?”

Gabriel is perturbed by Adrien’s answer. What in the world is Adrien into?! The father asks for his own sanity. “Are you at least using a barrier method?”

The son is more lost than ever. “What’s a barrier method?” Adrien wonders what barriers have to do with ice skating and listening to music.

Gabriel’s frustration builds with his son’s supposed lackadaisical attitude towards sex. He lashes out. “If you don’t know about condoms and dental dams, you really shouldn’t be involved in group scenes, Adrien. I’m worried that you’ve been given too much freedom if you can’t be bothered to practice safe sex.” Gabriel glares at his son from over the top of his glasses. He reaches for his phone, ready to update Nathalie on the new rules for his son.

Adrien’s brain malfunctions as he tries to straighten out how this conversation got away from him. It hits him that he told his father he practiced with Marinette. He wonders if Marinette would still want to be his friend after sticking his foot in his mouth. The words somehow manage to come out of Adrien’s mouth. “Safe sex? What do condoms and dental dams have to do with ice skating, band practice and video games? What’s a dental dam?”

The phone is left undisturbed on the table. No new rules for Adrien. Gabriel shakes his head not sure if should be relieved that Adrien is not some sort of deviant or let down by how easily Adrien misses context. Gabriel is determined to finish this conversation, if only to avoid future discussions with Nathalie over anything in Adrien’s room. “A dental dam is a thin flexible sheet of latex or similar material used to prevent the transmission of STDs during oral sex. No matter what your… kink is, you should always practice safe sex. Barrier methods protect against sexually transmitted diseases, and condoms specifically also protect against pregnancy.” Gabriel takes on his more familiar and stern countenance. “It’s important to the brand that you are discrete and avoid any mishaps. It would be wise for you to refrain from such activities until you are older. Deviations could make your image appear less wholesome and adversely affect our target audience.”

Adrien adds another expectation to his ever growing list. At least he isn’t outright banned from activities as Gabriel put it. Adrien asks another question. “How do you use condoms and dental dams?”

Gabriel answers the question without getting in the details. “There’s instructions on the box with diagrams. Read them prior to getting into racy situations. A box of each has been placed in your room.” He adds to his answer in hopes of avoiding accidents due to unfamiliarity. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to practice and get familiar with them first.”

“Practice?” the son asks.

“In your room, on yourself,” the father responds.

Adrien gets more comfortable with the conversation. It is not how he thought the night would go, but at least he gets to spend time with his father. “What else should I know?”

Gabriel relaxes a smidge. The conversation is flowing easier now Adrien and Gabriel are on the same page. Gabriel imparts some important wisdom. “Consent can be withdrawn at any time. Take your time and check in frequently with your chosen partner or partners to make sure everyone is still on board. Don’t rush, and make sure to communicate your desires clearly as well as listen.”

“Am I supposed to ask them if they still want sex during sex?” asks Adrien. He doesn’t doubt his father, but that is not how sex is usually portrayed.

Gabriel explains the concept more thoroughly. “You’re supposed to make sure they still want sex during sex, but you don’t need to use those exact words. It doesn’t even necessarily be verbal. It’s mostly a matter of making your partner is still enjoying themselves. Pay attention, and if something seems off then back off. In the beginning of a relationship or with temporary flings, you’ll probably rely more on verbal communication because everyone is different in how they show enthusiasm.” Gabriel notices Adrien biting the side of his lip and offers more direction on checking in on sexual partners. “You could use more playful questions like, does that feel good, what do you want you right now, are you ready for whatever. All of this is easier to do when you are not in the midst of puberty and after your hormones have leveled out. Another reason to wait until you are older.” Gabriel gently pushes for his son to wait again. It would be easier on the brand if the face of the teen department isn’t known as a pint-sized playboy.

It is a lot of information to absorb, but Adrien knows his father probably isn’t done. “Is that it?”

Gabriel switches to the more practical side of sexual health. “Whenever you start having sex, let me know so I can get a wellness check scheduled for you.” Gabriel flips over his phone and makes a few notes.

Adrien face and tone falls flat. “Aren’t you going to tell Nathalie to schedule the appointment?”

Gabriel counters. “Do you want Nathalie to know when you become sexually active?”

Nathalie spends the most time with him, but Adrien isn’t comfortable with Nathalie knowing his private life. “Not really.”

Gabriel reassures Adrien. “Then I won’t have Nathalie schedule the appointment. I will have to tell her that you have a doctor’s appointment in order to keep your schedule clear, but I won’t tell her the reason.”

“Thank you, Father.” Something about the conversation nags at Adrien. “Aren’t you going to tell me what sex is?”

Gabriel stares down Adrien. The boy is 14. He doesn’t need everything spelled out. “I’ve seen your search history, Adrien. I know you know what sex is. I will say that pornography is not accurate. It’s not usually representative of what women want. Everything in porn is exaggerated, most people don’t look like that naked, and no woman has ever been that excited by extra sausage on her pizza.”

Adrien’s face turns beet red as he remembers how almost everything in his life is monitored. “…anything else?”

Gabriel gives one last piece of advice. “Don’t keep condoms in your wallet. The heat and the friction could weaken the condom making it more likely to break.”

As if on autopilot, the next question is blurted out without thinking. “Is that what happened to you and mom?” His father stares into Adrien’s soul. The steely eyes draw out another statement from Adrien. “My birthday is six months after your wedding anniversary.”

Later

In his room, Adrien recalls the strange conversation over the phone with Nino. “And then my father grounded me.”

#Adrien Agreste #Gabriel Agreste #Nathalie Sancoeur #The talk #Adrien might be made of sunshine but he's still a curious teenager #just saying

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Nothing but the Truth - Pt.3

The Engagement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2570

Summary: A fake dating AU. Time to seal the deal officially; you become Steve’s fiancé, officially. Kinda. You really have to talk about the rules of engagement; read PDA.

Warnings: some swearing, tons of fluff, (because you might need to stock it for what’s to come... maybe?)

Story Masterlist

Tony was kind enough to point out that the ring worth two dollars wouldn’t do.

No fucking kidding.

So, he also took the liberty of scheduling an appointment at some fancy jeweller’s shop; your gut clenched at the idea of buying an engagement ring.

With Steve.

For your fake relationship.

What the hell is even my life, you questioned as you walked beside Steve, your fingers interlaced with his.

Oh, yeah, that was another wonderful (read: super-awkward) thing to experience: the talk about physical contact and boundaries. Part of you had screamed at you to tell him that you were his to do whatever he pleased (unless you would very clearly and loudly asked him to stop), while the other part of you hoped he would keep the touching tuned down to minimum, because then there might be a chance for you to come back to friends-mode after he wouldn’t be forced to pretend affection anymore.

No, you did not believe that he would magically fall in love with you during your little show for the public and the kidnapper(s). Your life wasn’t a romantic comedy.

Though that was debatable, seeing as you were momentarily going to buy a fucking engagement ring together.

You casted a side-glance at him, marvelling at the soft absent smile on his lips and for the millionth time since you had met him, you wondered what was on his mind. He seemed rather content now, but you didn’t trust yourself to be able to tell anymore; here he was, appearing at ease and with a spring in his step despite the fact that during ‘the talk’, his body language had hinted you that he had been about as nervous and uncomfortable about discussing boundaries as you had been, at least at first.

Staying behind as Tony Stark wanted you to sign some forms – including ones in which you promised not to share the information concerning this case with a third party or the ones in which you agreed to wear a tracker on you 24/7 for your own safety –, you went to find Steve in his office to talk more about what you two just got yourself into, to discuss your ‘battle plan’.

You nearly collided with Sam who stormed from the very door you were heading to.

Freezing in spot, you watched him stride towards you, his eyes narrowed and menacing. He pointed an accusing finger at you, taking a steading breath; you only guessed he was trying to keep himself from shouting at you, as he no doubt had at Steve.

A wave of sympathy for the Captain washed over you. Judging by the expression on Sam’s face, it had not been a pleasant talk and it had not concerned the photo, but your plans for the future – which, what the hell, since when news travelled that fast?!

“You and I are going to talk about this,” he threatened, jaw set tight, looking you dead in the eye. “Call me when you finish… whatever you’re about to do with that-- jerk.”

You nodded curtly, swallowing on nothing, and continued your path.

Your knock on the door was hesitant, possibly too quiet for anyone but a supersoldier to hear.

His permission for you to enter was nearly as quiet and sounded rather exhausted.

You opened the door slowly, peeking in the office and finding him at the desk, forearms resting on the table, fingers interlaced.

He smiled up at you despite his weariness. “Hey you.”

You couldn’t but reciprocate that. “Hey yourself.”

Steve’s waved off your worry about the mood in which Sam was leaving this room as well as your concern for Steve’s wellbeing. He offered you to back out once more from the crazy plan, assuring you that it was alright to do so – at any given time. You found it kind, but not too welcomed. You needed him fully in for this, if you were about to go on with it.

So you tried to be firm about it, hopefully enough for him to understand, to read between the lines. He must have, because gradually, the talk moved to the topic of displays of affection.

“I… uh, I think that maybe it would be better for you to initiate contact, always?” he suggested reluctantly, as if not being certain himself. “Just to make sure I won’t make you too uncomfortable? And I don’t doubt that you have a better idea of what the liberties are when it comes to a relationship nowadays, so… eh-“

You hummed, thoughtful. “Well, I appreciate your trust in me – both in my know-how with relationships, which, eh, you might be surprised, and in me setting the boundaries just so skilfully that I won’t make you uncomfortable. But, I think that if it’s always me… wouldn’t that make me look… uhm, this is so awk- like, you know, like some nag or something? Like a crazy fan pawing you?”

“Would you be pawing me?” he blurted out, his slowly rising suggestive eyebrow giving away that his words were not as spontaneous as he wished for you to believe, a spark of mischief in his eye.

Really?!

Also, your core did not burn at him talking about you getting handsy, no sire, you would never-

“Are you really joking about this?” you chuckled despite yourself, the playfulness reaching you despite all odds. You were worried about this whole matter, but seeing him still being himself put you at ease, as much as it was possible at the moment.

“Sorry,” he hummed with a sheepish smile before turning serious again. “I… you might have a point. It’s just… I really don’t want to-- to hurt you or anything, I would hate if- if you didn’t feel… safe with me in that respect.”

Your heart fluttered as you were reminded that yes, Steve could be joking, but only to lighten the atmosphere, to do exactly what you felt happening – to put you at ease. Making sure you were comfortable.

This was all about him being sweet and considerate in a way you hadn’t seen in a man before and… it was doing things to you on visceral level, feeding the attraction to him that had nothing to do with a burning desire, but more with you wanting to cocoon him in a pile of blankets, or better yet, to build a blanket fort to hide him from the evils of this world – of which he had seen too many, you weren’t naïve – and just… snuggle him. The sentiment was dangerous, more so in the combination with the said desire to climb him, but you couldn’t help it.

A relaxed smile spread on your lips and you noticed that Steve’s stiffened posture – caused most likely by both Sam’s visit and the topic – eased as well.

“Is this the forties’ man speaking? Because that was another point I was about to make; Steve, everyone knows that you weren’t born in this day and age. What would be wrong with your—eh, fiancée, respecting that? I… now I’m just saying things from the top of my head, but surely when you had other-when you were with-- when--- ugh, we would find a compromise, right? A way to respect each other’s sensibilities? If we were together for real?”

Despite your rambling, a smile mirroring your own appeared on his lips, brightening his face (and your day).

He extended his hand in your direction in what seemed like an invitation, so you hesitantly took few steps towards him – only now realizing you had never sat down, too nervous for that –, fighting the urge to chew on your lower lip. The corners of his lips rose higher when you complied, his eyes mesmerizing when you inserted your hand in his.

It was strange as he was still sitting, but you knew all too well that it was just another way for him to show you that you were in charge of this, you had the ball on your court. You lead and he would follow.

It was driving you crazy – both in the best way and in the worse way possible, because you weren’t certain you could work with that amount of trust and responsibility.

“This is alright?” he asked, only half-joking, effectively snapping you back to reality in which your hand was in his.

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, I think I can handle… hand-holding.”

“Good. We… we touched before. We hugged,” he reminded hesitantly and you realized that even your freak-out about ‘groping’ Steve yesterday had been ridiculous.

He had a point; yes, you were less touchy-feely with him than with Sam, but you… you had hugged before. He had put an arm around you; once again, not too often, but it happened. He would offer you an arm when there was a slippery floor. He caught when there was nothing on the floor and yet you managed to stumble over it.

You were being ridiculous about this, blowing it to proportion. Your shoulders slumped in relief with that realization and you grinned at Steve, causing him to raise a curious eyebrow as you motioned for him to stand up.

You were sure that he saw it coming miles away, but he still had the decency to huff when you slammed into his chest in a brutal hug and he chuckled at your sudden change of demeanour. His palm even caressed your back as his frame shook ever so slightly.

“I take it hand on your lower back is acceptable too then?” he whispered, hot air brushing your hairline.

You hummed in agreement and to your pleasant surprise, you felt his chin lightly rest on the top of your head. You melted into his body, allowing yourself to enjoy the proximity, screw the consequences. You could feel his steady if perhaps a bit faster than usual heartbeat on your cheek as you leaned it on his pectoral.

Sideway note: Yeah, he was amazingly ripped and it felt incredible to be held against that, something you hadn’t quite indulged in when you had been hugged by him before.

As you were still enveloped in his arms, he suggested few more rather chaste and sweet displays of affection; kiss in your hair, on your cheek, on your forehead or your hand, cupping your cheek if felt right, a peck on the lips if it came to extreme – and only if you clearly enough permitted it at the given moment.

You didn’t have it in you to say no to any of that, mostly because it was definitely acceptable. Instead, you breathed him in, santal wood, musk, detergent and him, you tried to engrave the moment into your brain for eternity, the feeling of being cradled in his embrace, how the material of his shirt caressed your skin and how warm and safe you felt.

Once you settled everything, your slightly wobbly legs carried you to the taxi that would take you to your apartment, the fact that you didn’t live with your fiancé being an issue left for another day. You found yourself basking in the aftermath and missing Steve’s warmth at the same time.

That night, sleep didn’t come easily and when the alarm blasted from your phone the next morning, waking you up for the appointment with the jeweller, you considered whether it was not all a dream.

But seeing as Steve picked you up…

He glanced down at you, noticing your gawking, and squeezed your hand, pulling you just an inch closer to his side.

“Are you alright?”

“Nervous as hell,” you admitted willingly and Steve grimaced.

“I can relate. I am a terrible liar, but we’ll make it work,” he assured you, not quite looking convinced himself.

You chuckled. “What a coincidence. I am a terrible liar too. Why are we doing this again?” you muttered the last sentence under your breath, momentarily forgetting that Steve had enhanced hearing.

“Because Tony and Natasha are stubborn and they do whatever they want,” he sassed you, smirking. Then, his expression softened. “If it doesn’t work out, we’ll figure something else to catch our guy. Don’t worry about it. But… I trust you. That’s why I am doing this.”

An enormous lump growing in your throat, you got yourself lost in the sincerity of his eyes and words, your breath stolen from your lungs by an invisible force.

“I trust you too,” you replied without thinking and felt with every fibre of your being that it was the truth.

Perhaps it was silly, since you technically didn’t know him that well.

However, it was the truth.

The hunt for a perfect ring in the luxurious shop was both the best dream coming true and the worst nightmare coming to life.

You were treated like a princess, showered with attention, being offered jewellery which made your head spin, leaving you wide-eyed; at the same time, the overenthusiastic vendor was giving you creeps.

Harold was your typical sleazy businessman- no, that wasn’t right. He was somehow… worse. It wasn’t just that he was clearly trying to sell you the most expensive ring and to make good (crazy) money; his intrusive questions, importunate persona and joyful spark in his eyes whenever you and Steve exchanged the smallest gaze was bordering on one of madman’s.

It could be simply because he was obsessed with his job. However, you suspected he was trying to convince you that he was such a loyal fan to your love that he would deserve to be on the wedding guestlist. For the shortest moment, you wondered whether it was something people who could afford a ring from this place did.

In the end, it didn’t matter, because there would be no wedding.

You tried very hard not to think about that, because being here with Steve, all soft smiles and his seemingly genuine pick-whatever-you-want-I-just-want-to-make-you-happy attitude, it was all causing things happening in your body you weren’t sure you liked. With each moment in his presence, you felt yourself fall deeper into the trap of his charm, voluntarily walking down the path of falling in love with him – if you weren’t already before this whole ordeal.

After the purchase of an elegant diamond ring with the sizeable gem in its middle and several petite spread on each side of thin twisted metal, you left the shop with a polite smile on your face which fell as soon as the door closed behind you.

“Is it just me or was the guy giving away a really creepy vibe?”

“Not just you. I think creepy fits the description the best,” Steve confirmed while you bit on your lower lip, eyeing the jewellery on your ring finger. You couldn’t help but admire it – it was breath-taking. “He was way too enthusiastic for my taste.”

“Yeah… I- thank you for sitting through that with me. And for—this. It’s really beautiful.”

He slipped his hand into yours, fingers interlacing at instant, squeezing gently. “You’re welcome. Some exquisite taste you have here.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

You spent your walk in silence then, until Steve received a text from Tony, which you assumed as soon as a frown appeared on his face and he sighed.

“He set up an interview for tomorrow’s afternoon. He wants us to come see him first thing when we arrive to the Tower.”

Your heart leaped to your stomach at the news. “He did what?!”

Part 4

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart @bobertswagert @kakakatey @ccolz88-blog @joeyrumlow @lovemeterwrites

#marvel #fanfiction #mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #fake dating #fake relationship #fluff #captain america #avengers #avengers fanfiction #fake dating au #fake-dating au #reader insert #nothing but the truth #anika ann

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imagine-loki · 4 years

Text

Ragnarok

TITLE: Ragnarok CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 3: Reunited AUTHOR: traveling-classicist ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you take care Odin when he was homeless on Midgard (based on the deleted scene from Ragnarok). You take him in and listen his crazy stories about Asgard and Thor thinking he’s just some crazy hobo who needs help. Then one day, Thor and Loki break into your apartment looking for their father. Hela returns in your living room and insanity ensues. RATING: T

AO3 Link: Here

NOTES/WARNINGS: Wow this came out as a big Ragnarok fix-it chapter. These things happen, I suppose. Enjoy, if it’s something that you need. I know some of us feel it.

Also, head to AO3 and please, read the endnote. If you don’t use AO3, I’ll summarize here.

Someone has stolen my material (including this story and my other story, Loki’s Daughter) and every single AO3 authors material and is profiting off of it by marketing an unofficial mobile app called the Fanfic Pocket Library Archive (Unofficial) App. This thing’s been around for several years but as I’m a little new to writing, this is the first I’ve heard of it. I do this for free and receive zero (0) dollars from it. I do it for fun but it’s my intellectual property and no one deserves to make money off of it, especially without my permission.

Please, if you use this app, stop, leave a one star review, report it as inappropriate on whatever store you use (it’s on all the popular ones), and then delete it. This person is hurting fanfic authors like me and many others on this blog! I don’t (and never) encourage sending hate mail to this individual and I don’t recommend you try to contact them directly, please. I don’t know if they know that they’re hurting us but we need to make sure that this app gets taken down.

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Several weeks had passed since Odin had come to live with Theo. They had finally settled into a workable routine. Theo was thankful she could finally work in peace for a full day without Odin bursting into her room yelling about frost giants or the helicopter he thought was an attacking dragon or whatever other mundane event triggered his dementia.

He was content, most days, with reading in the living room. Theo had gotten him a library card and they went to the library several times a week to keep him set up with books. Theo thought about getting him involved in book clubs or other social events but thought he might need a little more time before he could be with other people again.

He no longer spoke about the crazy doctor and he did not bring up the incident that Theo had had with him. For which, she was grateful. All in all, he was a good roommate and Theo enjoyed listening to his stories about Asgard and the battles in the Nine Realms. She was concerned by his comments about the Avenger Thor being his son, but she was not sure what to do about them.

She had asked him how long he had been in New York and he could remember being there for about four years. She assumed he had been upset and displaced during the Battle of New York, like herself and so many others had been. She thought, perhaps, this is where his fantasies about Thor and the Avengers had come from. A lot of people had had psychotic breaks after the aliens attacked. New Yorkers could come back from a lot: freak storms, floods, train wrecks, fires, terrorists, spies. But aliens and super heroes proved to be just a little too much for some.

Her attempts to get him to see a real doctor had all come up short. She did not want to force Odin to do something he did not want to do. She still wanted him to have the dignity of being his own person. He was healthy, for the most part, though she had noticed a bit of bodily weakness as of late. She had just chalked it up to the cold weather and old age. She was slowly working on his alcohol habit. He was down to only a few drinks a week now, instead of one a day. She did have to start hiding the booze in her room, though, after she caught him pinching some beer in the middle of the night one night.

She hoped that with a little more time together, he would come to trust her enough to go to a doctor to address his mental state but for now, as he wasn’t hurting himself or anyone else, she was content with him just being content. She enjoyed living with him. She didn’t feel like it was a chore to take care of him. She loved cooking for him and introducing him to new food.

She learned he had something of a sweet tooth so she kept a jar stocked with cookies or brownies or tarts or whatever recipe she could find. He even began checking out cookbooks from the library that had photos of food he thought looked good or familiar.

“Oh, these look like the apple tarts that Idunn used to make for us. Do you think you could make these? Of course, you don’t have golden apples but I’m sure you could find a decent substitute,” he would say.

“Sure! They look easy enough,” Theo would reply. “Check this one out and we’ll drop by the grocery store and pick up the ingredients.”

When they arrived back at her apartment, she unpacked the groceries. To her surprise, Odin came to her side and helped her. He took out the milk and cheese and a few other things and placed them in the refrigerator. She smiled. She’d have to remove the cereal and oatmeal he put in there later but at least he was trying to help.

He placed her cookbook on the island in the kitchen and took the rest of his books to the living room to read. She put on some coffee for him. She had found that he did enjoy a cup of coffee while he read. She set down a mug for him and he thanked her as he pulled out one of his newest books, a book about modern American politics. He went through books very quickly, so he often checked out ten or more books in a single visit. Among them this time were books about the Afghan wars, the Iraqi war, the American revolution, the Civil War, the civil rights movement, another Norse mythology book, and a book about Nordic style knitting.

She returned to the kitchen and started on the recipe for the apple tarts. She started on the dough and made up the apple and cinnamon mixture. She glanced up at Odin and caught him watching her from over the top of her book. When she caught his eye, he quickly looked down at his book again. She smiled and placed the tart crusts in to bake. When they were done, she pulled them out and added the apple mixture on the tarts. When she was finished, she put the tarts back in the oven.

“Okay, those need a little more time and then we can try them out,” Theo said.

“They already smell delightful,” Odin said.

Theo smiled. She enjoyed how happy he had been recently. It was good to see someone who had been so spiteful and angry and confused, be content and happy with life. Even though, he was still rather confused most of the time.

“Nordic Style Knitting?” Theo read, as she picked up one of Odin’s books from the pile on the coffee table.

“Knitting?” he said, taking a closer look. “I thought that said, ‘knighting’. I must be losing my sight.”

“Aw, I thought you were going to pick up a new hobby,” Theo said, a little disappointed. “Knighting? It has a picture of a woman with a knitted sweater on it looking longingly into mid-distance. How did you think this was about knights?”

“Well, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. That’s what the librarian lady always says,” Odin said.

Theo nodded. “Well, I guess that’s true. But if there’s anything about knights in here, be sure to tell me because that would be the plot twist of the century.”

“Hmph, a king does not have time for knitting,” he said.

“Right, well you’re not much of a King of a the Dumpsters now, are you?” Theo said, smiling.

“Well, I suppose I’m not king anymore,” he muttered.

“Are you happy?” she asked. He looked up at her and smiled. His eye shimmered a bit in the light.

“Most of the time,” he said.

She laughed. “Well, that’s the goal, isn’t it?” She leaned over the couch and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be in my room for a bit. I’ll be out when the oven beeps.”

She walked down the hallway to her room and flopped onto her bed, playing on her phone. The apartment filled with the smell of apple tarts. It made her stomach growl in anticipation. She rolled over on her back, phone raised over her face, playing Candy Crush. She completely lost track of time and before long the timer started beeping in the kitchen.

“What is that! Who’s there?” Odin shouted at the oven.

The beeping and Odin’s booming voice made her jump. The phone slipped from her hands and landed like a brick on her face. “Ow,” she groaned as she slumped off her bed to get Odin away from the oven again before he started beating it with her rolling pin.

“Odin, it’s just the timer, remember? Our tarts are done!” she said, removing the rolling pin gently from his hands. She pulled on her oven mits and pulled out the tray. Odin’s hand went straight for one, but Theo smacked it away. He recoiled holding his hand and giving her a sour look.

“Not now, you crazy! They just came out! They’re still hot,” she said.

He frowned at her and grumbled as he stalked to the living room and plopped down on the couch again. She smiled and shook her head. She waited for them to cool before plating a few for him and some for herself and walking into the living room to join him. She set the plate down in front of him. When she looked down at him, he had his hands on his head again like he did when he was upset and frustrated. A book was open in his lap.

“Odin? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” she asked, setting the plate down on the table.

“Asgard is not a place, I know that, but I have to remember,” he said, hitting his head with his palms.

“No, no, we don’t do that, Odin,” Theo said, stopping him. “Just take a deep breath, come on.” She picked up the book from his lap. It was the Norse mythology book. He grabbed it from her and pointed to the page he was on.

“Look, look at her, I know her,” he said, pointing to an illustration of a woman on the page. Theo read the caption, ‘The Goddess of Death, Hela’. She looked up at Odin again. He was clearly in distress.

“It’s alright, Odin, here have a tart, remember? We were excited about these. They smell really good,” she prompted him with the plate, but he shook his head. He was really distressed if food would not bring him out of this.

“They’ve got it all wrong. They’ve got it all wrong! Stupid Midgardians. Not you, Theo! Them!” he said, pointing at the book and fidgeting. “She’ll come back. I do not know when, but it feels soon. Very soon. She will kill me.”

“Odin, no one is going to kill you,” Theo said, coolly, trying to keep a calm tone.

“No, no, she will. It’s been foretold that she will,” he panted.

“Odin, those are just stories. No one is going to kill you. Did you see that guard dog of a landlord I have downstairs? He’s not going to let anyone in that doesn’t live here. I promise, no one is going to kill you.”

“I must speak with my sons. I must speak with them now! I must warn them immediately!” he said. “Asgard is not a place!” He pounded on his head again. “Why won’t they listen! Why can’t I remember!”

“Odin, please, stop! Don’t hurt yourself!” Theo grabbed both his hands and held them. He stared at her. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead. His eye was bloodshot and glistened with welling tears. Theo sighed.

“Listen. Let me help you. Please,” she pleaded with him, holding his hands. “Take a deep breath.”

“Theo—”

“Shut it! Do as I say,” she snapped.

He sighed and took a deep breath.

“Alright, now let it out.” He did so. “Again,” Theo said, softening her tone now that he was listening to her. She made him take several deep breaths in and out until he was calm. She held his hands so that he could not hit himself.

“Okay, I want you to close your eye and focus on your breathing and make all the other little Odin voices stop talking in your head. Frigga too, if she’s in there,” Theo said. “Sorry, Frigga,” she added, quietly.

“This is silly,” Odin said.

“It’s not silly, just trust me, okay. Rule number seven, remember?” she said. He opened his eye and looked at her.

“Fine,” he grumbled, closing his eye again.

“Good. Sometimes this takes a while. It takes me a while sometimes so just tell me when you have them all shut up.”

She waited for several minutes when finally, Odin said, “Alright.”

“Okay, now let’s think about how this started. You were reading your book and you got to this page about Hela,” Theo said.

“I know her,” he said, quickly.

“Okay, how do you know her? Is she your friend?”

“No, no, no, they have it all wrong here,” he said pointing to the book.

“Alright, alright, well how do you know her? Take a deep breath and think hard about it. Don’t let any of the other voices think over you.”

He closed his eye and scrunched his brow, clearly concentrating hard on this task.

“She… She… is my… daughter,” he whispered. “She is my daughter.” A tear slipped from his eye. Theo looked at him, squeezing his hands. He started breathing hard. His eye flicked around and then up at Theo. “She’s my daughter and I forgot about her. I forgot about her!”

“Oh, Odin,” she said, squeezing his hands. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault,” Theo said, rising up to sit next to him on the couch. She put her arm around him.

He put his face in his hands. His body shook with silent sobs. “I’m a terrible father,” he whispered. “To all my children.”

“Odin, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is. I’ve done nothing but push them away and lock them up, punish them for who they are, for who I made them to be. They all hate me. They all think I’m mad and foolish. And I am. I’ve been blind to them.” He collapsed into his hands again.

Theo couldn’t help her own tears at seeing him cry. She rubbed his back and squeezed his arm, trying to think of something to help him feel better. She knew that sometimes, when people broke down like this – which many of her former roommates had on this couch – it was often helpful for her just to sit with them and listen.

“I’m sorry, Odin,” she said, softly. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, but the fact that you realize that you’ve made mistakes may mean that there’s still time for you to fix your relationship with your children; that you can ask for their forgiveness.”

“You don’t understand, girl,” he said, shaking his head. “What I’ve done to Hela, to Loki…the eons of torture and brutality I’ve put them through… there is no conversation that can fix.”

Theo was a little scared by what he was saying now. She wanted to be optimistic for him and supportive, but she had a gut feeling there was something more going on here that Odin was not telling her.

“Well,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “We can only try. For right now, let’s just have a few tarts and try to calm down. Maybe, you can think about what you would want to say to your kids if they were here.”

He sighed. “I would want to tell them I love them,” he said. He wiped away the tears from his face and took a tart.

Theo looked at him sympathetically. She tried not to cry herself as she took a tart too. She took a bite. She was impressed with her baking. They tasted really good, immediately improving her mood.

“Mmm,” Odin muttered. “My sons would love these. Frigga, too. They loved Idunn’s apple tarts.”

“Do I do them any justice? Even without the golden apples?” she said, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“They’ll do,” he said with a little smile. He looked up at her. “Thank you, Theo.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said, standing to get a drink from the kitchen. As she walked, there was a sudden pounding on the door. “Now, who’s that?”

She walked back towards the door, but the pounding got louder. “Hang on! I’m coming!” she said, shoving the rest of the apple tart in her mouth and swallowing it in one bite. She could hear muffled voices outside. There was a loud bang on the door that made Theo jump.

“Hey!” she shouted. “Knock it off!”

There was another bang and the door heaved inwards. Theo jumped back and reached for the coatrack. The door gave one last shudder before shattering into a million pieces across her entryway floor. Theo slammed against the wall beside the coatrack, as two men casually walked into her apartment: Thor, the Avenger and Loki, the alien that attacked New York. She reached into her coat pocket on the coatrack and pulled out a handgun, pointing it at Loki’s head.

“Do not come any closer. What the hell are you doing in my house?” she shouted at them.

“Father!” Thor said, stepping over the broken pieces of door to Odin who was standing by the coffee table.

“Thor! My son!” Odin said, putting his hand on Thor’s cheek. “Oh, my sons! I love you!”

Theo did not take her eyes off Loki, nor the sights of her gun. Her hand was steady, though her heart was racing. He was looking at Odin with brows raised in shock at his adoptive father’s admonition upon their arrival. He looked back at the Theo with her gun pointed at his head. He raised his hands slowly and gave her a gentle look.

“I apologize for my brother murdering your front door,” he said, slowly. “Please, allow me to fix it.”

He waved his hand and the splinters of the door began to reform on the broken hinges. Theo felt a wriggling sensation under her foot. She looked down to see a large chunk of the door wiggling to get free as if pulled by a magnet towards its comrades. She lifted its foot and it replaced itself, making the door whole again.

Loki stepped over to it and tested it, swinging it open and shut. “There, good as new,” he said. Theo still had the gun trained on him. He turned back to her. “Please, put that down. We’re just here for him.” He pointed to Odin with his thumb.

“He… He was telling the truth… All this time? And I thought he was crazy…” Theo said.

“Well, you’re probably not completely wrong. I’m pretty sure he’s crazy,” Loki said.

Odin ran over to them and grabbed Theo’s arm, lowering her gun.

“Theo! You’re breaking rule number five, young lady,” he scolded her. “No weapons!”

“It’s my house. They’re my rules. And I get to break them when GIGANTIC ALIEN MEN COME TEARING DOWN MY DOOR!” she shouted, pointing at the brothers.

“I do suppose that’s fair,” Loki said, looking at his brother.

“No weapons?” Thor said. “What kind of house is this?”

“Thor, don’t be rude,” Loki muttered.

“A safe one!” Theo snapped. “Now, explain yourselves right now!”

“My name is Thor, and this is Loki—”

“I know damn well who you are! Why on earth would you leave your father here to become homeless? Why would you say you would come for him and then just leave him here with no way to contact you?”

“That’s a good question,” Thor smiled at Theo. “You want to answer that one, Loki?” he growled at Loki.

“Homeless?” Loki said. “I didn’t leave him homeless here. I left him in a home. For old people. A retirement home. Where he could play bingo and mingle with old Midgardians and tell war stories and be cared for day and night their healer nurse-doctor people or whatever.”

“And that retirement home went out of business,” Theo said, standing on her tip toes to be eye level with him. “I guess they don’t have a mailing address for Asgard, do they!”

“So, what, they just turned him out on the street?” Loki asked.

“Yes! They had nowhere else to put him!”

“What kind of place is this? Just throwing your elders out like trash?”

“Welcome to America, sweetie. You don’t have the money to pay for yourself, you go out on the street.”

“Thor, this is not what I intended,” Loki said, addressing his brother. “All I did was strip him of his memories so he wouldn’t rouse the Midgardians’ suspicions, but I did not do this.”

Thor shook his head at him and rolled his eyes and turned to Odin. “I’m sorry that this happened father—”

“No, I am sorry, to both of you,” Odin said.

“What?” both the brothers said in unison. Loki stared at him with surprise, thinking he had heard him wrong. Odin turned his attention to him.

“I am sorry for how I’ve treated you, Loki. For the lies I’ve told you. For blaming you, when I should have blamed myself. Your lawless nature, these storms inside you; you inherited from me. And I would never wish that on another soul,” Odin said, tears in his eyes. “You are my son. I just hope that you can forgive me now after all that I have done.”

Loki stared at him, taken aback by his words. He had no words of his own. He looked at Thor and then to Theo. She crossed her arms, gun still in hand. He stared blankly at Odin, unsure of what to do or say or even what to think.

Thor too was in shock. He looked back and forth between his father and his brother.

“Father, I think you broke him,” he said, chuckling a little, putting his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“I… I…I do not know what to say,” Loki said.

“That’s alright,” Odin said, putting up his hand. “I don’t expect forgiveness right away. Now, Thor, I must speak with you too.”

Thor wiped his nose with the back of his hand, trying to disguise his man-tears. Theo scoffed. Loki was still searching the room for something that could help him respond. He stepped closer to Theo while Odin spoke with Thor.

“What’s in those tarts?” he asked, suspiciously.

Theo turned her head slowly to glare at him, shooting daggers. “Apples,” she said, feigning hospitality. “And a bit of cinnamon and brown sugar. You’re welcome to one if you want,” she said, though a bit scornful. “And you didn’t answer my question. Why did you leave him here?”

Loki looked uncomfortable. “It’s a long story.”

“Start talking,” Theo said.

“I was not expecting this apologetic Odin. He’s never been this way before. Several years ago, Asgard was dealing with an unexpected war with the dark elves. My brother abdicated his right to the throne and Odin was, well, unfit to rule after our mother died. He was willing to sacrifice every Asgardian warrior we had to defeat the elves just uphold some old family grudge. So, I did what needed to be done and removed Odin from power.”

“Jesus,” Theo said, rolling her eyes.

“I brought him here so he would be safe. I removed his memories with a spell so as to disguise his existence. To keep him safe not only from Midgardians but other powers in the universe that might want him dead. I wasn’t expecting them to throw him out on the street!”

Theo shook her head, not meeting Loki’s eyes.

“But I am grateful to you, Theo, for taking him in. Thor is too, though he may forget to say so.”

“Mmm,” Theo grunted. “How did you even know where to find us?”

“Pfft, that crazy second-rate magician that lives on this island too.”

“Oh no, not him,” Theo whined, as a sparkling portal began to appear in her living room behind Loki. Doctor Strange and Wong stepped through.

“I know, right,” Loki continued. “What a knob. He made me fall through one of his stupid portals for thirty minutes while he tried to figure out where you two were. Man’s not a sorcerer. His magic’s more suitable for children than… he’s right behind me…”

“Hello again, Loki. Theo,” the doctor greeted them. Theo cocked the gun in her hand.

#Loki #Lover #God of Mischief #Submitted fic #submission #ragnorok #traveling-classicist #chapter 3

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believingispowerfulmagic · 4 years

Text

“Comfort Food” Part XXX: Babymoon (Part One)

This is also my first entry for OQ Realms Week!

“That’s it,” Robin said, backing away and wrapping his arm around her waist. “The nursery is all set up.”

Regina looked at the beautiful wooden crib, the center piece of their nursery. A dresser sat against the back wall and the changing station was right next to it, already packed with diapers, wipes and bottles of baby powder. There was also the toy box Geppetto’s Toys had given her and sitting on top of it was one of the stuffed monkeys from their baby shower. It matched the jungle theme painted on the walls—trees and different jungle animals decorating it, from monkeys to birds to snakes to a tiger.

“It’s perfect,” she said, leaning against him. “We’re all ready for Henry.”

“Yes, we are,” he agreed. He grinned. “I say we deserve a reward.”

She raised an eyebrow, hoping he meant what she thought he meant. “Muffin Man strudel?”

“You read my mind,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Let’s go get our shoes on.”

They hurried to their room and put on their sneakers before heading downstairs. Queen was asleep on the couch, meaning they could sneak out without her wanting to come with them on their walk. Robin quietly closed the door behind him before taking her hand. “And here we go,” he said.

A warm breeze blew past them as they turned out of their walkway and headed toward the main road. Regina laced her fingers with his and gave their latched hands a couple gentle swings. “It’s a beautiful evening for a walk,” she said.

“It is,” he agreed, squeezing her hand. “Maybe we should get some ice cream instead of the strudel.”

She gasped, looking at him with wide eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my husband, Robin Locksley?”

He let out a belly laugh, letting go of her hand so he could wrap his arm around her and hold her close. “We can get both—but have the strudel another day. I now really want ice cream.”

“Ice cream does sound good,” she admitted, already tasting the creamy goodness on her tongue.

“Okay,” he said, turning in the opposite direction of the Muffin Man once they got to the corner. “To Any Given Sundae we go!”

They continued to walk down the street and Regina sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Soon we’ll be pushing a stroller with us.”

“Yes, we will,” he said. “And one of us will be lugging a diaper bag with them.”

She snorted. “You mean me.”

“Not necessarily,” he replied. “I also intend to lug that thing around. We’re a team, right? Why should you break your back alone?”

“Good point. Can I get this in writing?” she teased him.

He pouted, pretending to be wounded. “What, my word isn’t good enough?”

She smiled, raising her head so she could kiss him. “Of course it is. I know you will pull equal weight when it comes to parenting.”

They arrived at Any Given Sundae and Robin pulled away from her. He opened the door and gave a little bow. “After you, milady.”

“Thank you,” she said, walking into the store. A blast of cold air hit her and she felt goosebumps rise on her arms. She wrapped them around her as Robin’s warm body quickly pressed against her, gently pushing her toward the freezer so they could choose their ice cream flavors.

Regina eyed the chunky monkey as well as the cookie dough options, debating between the two. Without looking away, she asked her husband: “You getting Rocky Road?”

“Of course,” he replied. “No need to have any other flavor when the best is right there.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, some of us do like to vary things up. Do you think I should go with cookie dough? Or something else?”

“I think you know my opinion,” he teased her.

“Right,” she replied, shaking her head. “Why did I bother asking you?”

He laughed as she continued to look over the options. Her heart skipped a beat as she spied one toward the end, hurrying toward it to confirm that her eyes were not playing a trick on her. “I don’t believe it,” she breathed.

“What?” he asked, moving closer to her. “Is something wrong?”

“No. It’s just…look.” She pointed to the container in question, her finger pressing against the cold glass.

He leaned toward the glass and she saw his eyes widen. “I hardly see that here in the States.”

“It took me ages to perfect that,” the proprietor said, emerging from the back. The blonde woman leaned against the counter. “Would you like it?”

“Yes,” Robin breathed. “I haven’t had a good raspberry ripple in the States yet. And it’s usually too cold for ice cream when I go back home.”

The owner nodded, opening the glass by her. “Cone or cup? And how many scoops?”

“Cone,” he said. “And can I get two please? One raspberry ripple and one Rocky Road, please.”

Regina would’ve chuckled if she hadn’t been in absolute shock. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that she found this particular flavor now, especially as it was a flavor that wasn’t popular in their area. She knew it was a sign.

“Can I have a cone with two scoops of raspberry ripple, please?” she asked. “Just the raspberry ripple.”

The proprietor nodded. “Of course. I take it you are a big fan like your husband?”

“Like my father,” Regina replied, a lump forming in her throat. “He loved it and was always so upset that no one really sold it.”

“Was?” the blonde woman asked, handing Robin his cone.

Regina swallowed past the lump. “He passed away a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the other woman replied, making Regina’s cone. She held it out to her. “On the house.”

“Thank you,” Regina gasped out, tears threatened to overwhelm her.

Robin rubbed her back. “Why don’t you go find a seat? I’ll be right there.”

She nodded, moving toward a far table as tears fell down her cheeks. Regina licked her raspberry ripple, savoring the flavor her father had loved so much. It wasn’t her favorite but she still liked it enough to always split a bowl with Henry whenever he could find it. She felt he was with her now, sharing the cone with her in spirit.

A stack of napkins appeared in front of her. Robin sat down next to her, taking her free hand with his. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“No,” she admitted. “It’s just…it’s weird. We’re going about our day, being all normal and happy…and then WHAM! Something reminds me that my dad’s not here and I’m sad all over again.”

“I know,” he replied. “It happens to me too.”

She felt some comfort knowing she wasn’t alone in her feeling. “When do you think it will stop?”

“I think that’s a question for Archie,” he said, taking a lick of his ice cream. “But I don’t think it ever stops.”

“I was afraid you would say that,” she replied, taking a good lick of her ice cream. She closed her eyes, once again imagining she was enjoying it with her father.

A few moments later, Robin said: “I didn’t know Henry liked raspberry ripple.”

She nodded, opening her eyes again. “I forget where he first tried it but he loved it and would try to get it whenever he could find it. One time, he tried to get our local grocery store to stock it but he was really the only buyer so that didn’t work.”

“Too bad he didn’t tell me,” her husband replied. “I would’ve been a second buyer. Maybe that would’ve changed their minds.”

“I doubt it, but he would’ve appreciated the gesture,” Regina replied, smiling now.

Robin chuckled before covering her free hand with his. “You feeling better now?”

“A bit,” she told him. “There’s still some sadness but you’re helping me smile through it.”

“Good,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

They finished up their ice cream before Robin returned to the front. Regina watched as he spoke with the owner, who disappeared into the back. A few moments later, she emerged with a container. She handed it to Robin, who then gave her some money. He returned, smiling triumphant. “I got us some raspberry ripple to enjoy at home,” he announced. “And Sarah said she’s going to have it all summer.”

“Is she?” Regina asked, glancing over at the blonde proprietor. “And how much did you pay her to get her to agree to that?”

“I just paid her for the container,” he said, patting it. “She already made the decision before we walked through the door.”

Though suspicious of that, she decided to drop the subject. She stood and took his hand. “Let’s get that in the freezer before it melts.”

“Good idea,” he said. They left the ice cream shop, noting that the sun had set and the streetlamps had come on.

A cool breeze blew past them and Regina shivered a bit, leaning closer to Robin. “The summer seems to be flying by.”

“That’s because we’re eagerly waiting for our son,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her to share some of his body warmth. “So we’re speeding toward his birthday.”

She nodded, still amazed by that. “We’re going to be parents any day now.”

“I know,” he said, kissing her head. “It still feels like a dream.”

“That will probably end the first sleepless night,” she replied.

He laughed, nodding. “Probably.”

“But it will be worth it,” she continued, smiling as she thought of their beautiful baby boy lying in their arms.

“Yes,” he agreed, kissing her head. “All of it will be worth it for our little Henry.”

They arrived back at the house and let themselves in. Queen greeted them with her leash in her mouth and a look in her eyes that almost seemed to say “How dare you go for a walk without me?” Robin sighed as he handed Regina the ice cream, asking her to put it in the freezer while he took the dog on a walk. She agreed, watching as he put on Queen’s harness and then her leash. With a little wave, he left with Her Majesty.

After putting the ice cream away, Regina headed upstairs. She was going to go to her room and prepare a bath but found herself standing in the nursery. It still amazed her that it was complete and ready for their son. Everything seemed so much more real and she couldn’t wait until she had her baby boy.

She walked over to one wall, where she had set up a photo family tree. At the very top was an empty frame that said Baby waiting for Henry’s first picture. Then right underneath that was a picture of her and Robin from their wedding, the two posing on the steps of their back porch. She leaned against him, looking up as she smiled at him. He beamed down at her, his hand on her back. It was placed in a frame that said Mommy & Daddy.

Underneath that were three more picture frames. One held a picture of Susan in a frame that just read Nana. Neither of them had wanted a picture of George on the wall—he certainly wasn’t going to be a grandfather to their child. Instead, they placed a picture of Grandpa Roland and Grandma Ellie next to Susan. They had to special order the frame that said Great-Grandpa & Great-Grandma for that photograph.

Regina reached out and brushed her fingers over the photograph on the left. It showed her parents, both sitting on their deck. Her father had his arm around her mother’s shoulders, holding her close. They both smiled at the camera, looking very relaxed.

“I miss you, Daddy,” she whispered. “I hope wherever you are, you are watching out for all of us.”

“I’m sure he is,” Robin said, wrapping his arms around her. He held her close. “And I know he’s always going to be watching over us.”

She leaned against her husband. “You’re right. Though I hope there are a few times he looks away.”

He laughed at that. “True. I would hate to think he was watching last night.”

“Oh, I hope not,” she replied, feeling her cheeks heat up as she recalled how many times Robin made her come.

“And maybe he shouldn’t watch tonight,” Robin continued, leaning her back so she could see his suggestive smirk. “That is if you’re up for an encore.”

While it was a tempting offer, she shook her head. “I just want to cuddle. Can we do that?”

He kissed the side of her head. “Of course. We can do whatever you want.”

Regina took his hand and they headed to their bedroom together. Her Majesty was already curled up on their bed, waiting for them. She gave the dog a scratch behind her ear before retrieving her pajamas so she could change into them. With a quick kiss for Robin, she slipped into the bathroom to go through her nightly routine.

After washing her face and moisturizing it, she brushed her teeth and headed back out with minty fresh breath. Robin was already in bed, cradling Queen. The dog’s tail moved every so often, creating a dull thud as it hit his leg. She certainly looked comfortable.

“Did I get replaced by Her Majesty?” Regina asked, teasing her husband as she climbed into bed next to him.

“Not at all,” he replied, setting the dog down. Queen scrambled to her feet and took a couple steps before curling up on Regina’s legs like usual. “See?”

She chuckled, moving closer to her husband. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close, kissing her head. “There. Cuddling achieved.”

“Good,” she sighed, resting her head on his chest as she curled closer to him. Queen shifted so she was lying in the small space between Regina’s bent legs and Robin’s. The dog let out a content sigh before closing her eyes.

Regina curled her fingers around Robin’s soft t-shirt as she let her eyes fall closed. She always felt at peace in his arms and today was no different. While she always missed her father, the grief was easier to bear with Robin by her side.

She was the luckiest woman in the world.

“I love you,” she murmured into his chest.

He raised his hand, entangling his fingers in her hair. “I love you too,” he whispered.

Regina smiled, drifting off to sleep filled with happiness and contentment. She knew only good dreams awaited her with Robin’s arms and love enveloping her. Hopefully, he felt the same way thanks to her.

Continue reading on FFN (no smut), AO3 or Wattpad

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #comfort food #oq other realms week

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jlalafics · 5 years

Text

Part Three of “Rent Control”

So there I was, hellbent on just having three parts...and now there’s a fourth coming.

In the meantime, enjoy this next part of the story.

If you haven’t read the other parts, follow the links below:

Part One

Part Two

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has found the perfect home in San Francisco—great neighborhood, an easy commute and, best of all, it’s rent controlled. There’s only one problem; the landlord will only rent to a married couple.

Enter Peeta Mellark.

_____

Rent Control

Part Three

One month later…

“Hey there, Mrs. Mellark!”

Katniss grinned at the dark-skinned man at the front counter. “Hey, Thresh! Is Peeta ready?”

“He’s just in the back finishing up with the inventory,” he informed her. “Feel free to go in and check on him—make sure he hasn’t drowned in coffee beans.”

She nodded, waving before rushing into the back room, her thoughts on everything that had happened since that first kiss. It had been an interesting month for them. They had decided to give ‘dating’ a try—and by dating she meant fantastic make-out sessions and mind-blowing sex.

If Katniss had known how great sex could be in her pretend marital bed, she may have considered marriage much sooner.

Part of her knew that it wasn’t all about the sex, there was also the ‘after’ of it all. The kisses against her sweaty temple, the feeling of his strong arms encircling her waist so she could play the small spoon. When Katniss was in her husband’s arms, she felt safe…and loved.

Ahh…love. That was a much more complicated subject between them.

“Peeta?” she called out as she opened the door to the breakroom. “You ready?”

Silence.

Katniss walked further down toward the open doorway of the stockroom, finding it empty.

“Where the hell is he?”

There was suddenly a set of arms rounding her waist and rough lips against her ear.

“Tell me—” Katniss groaned as teeth nipped gently on her lobe. “Does the smell of coffee do anything for you?”

She chuckled quietly, her hand reaching back to run her fingers through his pomade-maneuvered locks.

“I do adore a blond roast,” Katniss said as her hair was moved aside, and soft kisses were stamped on her neck. “Or a Sumatra…”

“Hey!” She turned as an indignant Peeta pulled away. “That’s Starbucks!” He put his hand to his forehead dramatically. “How could you?”

Laughing, Katniss wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips in a mock pout. “I’m sorry.”

Peeta grinned, his blue eyes shining at her. “At least you love a blond roast.” He planted a full kiss on her lips. “Hello, wife.”

“Hello, husband,” she greeted back. “Are you ready?”

“Peeta!” Thresh suddenly called out. “I’m heading out, locking the door behind me!”

“Got it!” Peeta called out. “See you tomorrow!”

Peeta turned back to her. “Just going to save my inventory numbers, then we can go.” Katniss nodded in agreement. “But, first…would you be interested in learning about our variety of roasts?”

She raised a brow. “What?”

He placed his hands on her shoulders, leading her towards the stock room.

Peeta’s mouth went behind her ear—her weak spot!—as he pressed himself against her backside.

Suddenly, she had a deep need to learn about coffee.

++++++

“You dirty, little sex monkey!”

“Mommy?”

Annie turned to Jack, playing on the rug adjacent to them.

“Sorry, honey…just excited about Aunt Katniss’ story!” After a wide-eyed Jack went back to playing with his blocks, Annie turned back to her friend. “I always wanted to try doing it at work.”

“You own a restaurant, so I’m sure it’s possible,” Katniss responded. “On the other hand, it sounds totally unsanitary.”

Annie and Jack had wandered up into the apartment when Finnick had cajoled Peeta into a game of one-on-one at a nearby park. It was the great part about living in the building; everyone had an open-door policy and it wasn’t unusual for the Odairs—or anyone else, for that matter—to just pop in. Katniss was more than happy to welcome the very pregnant mother and son into their much-more-decorated apartment.

More photos lined the mantle, including one from their welcome party featuring everyone in the building, gifted to them by Effie. The couch, previously owned by the Odairs, was charcoal grey and so plush that Katniss often found herself sinking into the cushions for a nap after a long day at the boutique. Peeta often found her passed out on it when he got home and would have to carry her into their bedroom.

Not like he minded.

Their cream and grey rug matched it perfectly and it had been cushy enough for them to lounge on when they had no furniture. Now Jack sat on it, looking up at Katniss adorably with his sea-green eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s the thrill of being caught.” Annie sighed; her eyes closed. “Oh, to be young and in love…”

Katniss laughed. “Annie! You’re the same age as me!”

“I know, but it’s hard to have alone time when you have a toddler starfishing in your bed,” her friend responded.

“Starfishing?”

Annie threw her arms and legs out. “See? Like a starfish. Finnick would have to maneuver over Jack to even hold my hand!”

“Poor, horny Annie.” Katniss patted her arm. “If you ever need us to babysit Jack, we would be happy to. Especially before the twins get here.”

Annie blinked back tears. “I would love that…I really am terribly horny.”

The two women burst into laughter.

“So, this is where the hot girls are!”

They looked to the doorway where Finnick and Peeta stood, matching grins on their faces.

“Daddy!” Jack ran to his father and Finnick easily scooped him up. “Horny.”

Peeta turned to the women on the couch.

“What exactly were you talking about?”

++++++

“So, why primroses?” Beetee asked as he knelt in front of the patch of soil. “I think they’re going to look great in the spring.”

Katniss settled next to him, handing him a spade so he could continue tending to the garden.

“Primrose is my sister’s name,” she explained. “And, besides Peeta—she is the person that I’m closest to.”

“That’s lovely.” Beetee sat back and gave her a gentle smile. “They are a perfect addition to our garden.”

Effie had informed her and Peeta that each new tenant contributed to the garden by picking out a plant or flower to be added, courtesy of Beetee. The tradition started when she and Haymitch first bought the building. They planted a lemon tree that stood in the back corner of the yard and it was used regularly by tenants as well as neighbors.

“How’s it going?” They turned to find Peeta walking over. Holding a hand out to Katniss, he helped her up before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “The primroses look beautiful; your sister will be flattered that she’s an addition to the garden.”

“I’m going to send her a picture later,” Katniss informed him. A sweet breeze swept through the yard and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “It’s the perfect weather today.”

“I agree,” Beetee said. “As an old girlfriend of mine said, this is date night weather.”

Peeta chuckled. “Seems like she was majorly hinting.”

Beetee shook his head. “Maybe that’s why we never passed the six-month mark. I was a bit dense in the romance department.” He grinned as he stood up. “What was your first date night like?”

“Uh…” Katniss suddenly felt jumbled, her brain going through many scenarios but not quite landing on the right one. “So…I can’t remember.” She turned to Peeta. “Sorry, babe.”

“Yeah, well, it isn’t your fault,” he told her easily before looking to Beetee. “We never had a real official date. It was more like coffee hangouts and movie nights.”

“Well, get on that boy!” Beetee pronounced.

Peeta turned to her. “How would you like to go on a date?” His cheeks were tinged pink with embarrassment. “One without coffee or Netflix.”

Katniss found herself beaming at him. “I’d love to.”

++++++

“I like that dress,” Peeta said from across the dinner table.

Katniss looked down at the flowy rust-orange dress before meeting his eyes once more.

“I borrowed it from Effie…actually I think she gave it to me. She said I had the hips for it—whatever that means.”

“I bet you it was better than the little talk that Haymitch gave me about not getting fresh with a lady,” he told her.

She leaned forward, making sure that he could see the bit of cleavage from the V-neck opening of the dress.

“But what if the lady wants to get fresh with you?”

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” Peeta replied as he reached for his very full glass of wine.

“I know, but I haven’t steered you wrong so far,” she told him. Her eyes looked around the cozy restaurant, furnished with wood tables and vintage chairs. “Annie did a great job with this place. It could use a greenery wall in the back to give more of that homey feel that it already has.”

“You’re definitely a Design Major.” Peeta gazed at her, his eyes lit with warmth. “Why did you decide on Johanna’s instead of going for a design firm? Not like it’s not great place or anything...”

Katniss shrugged. “I didn’t want to work under anyone. I always wanted to design on my own.” She met his eyes. “At least with Johanna, she gives me some sort of creative outlet. She’s less of a boss and more like a friend who happens to pay me.”

“You have free rein on the apartment, you know.” He reached over and took her hand. “Maybe when I finally get Mellark Bakery over to the west coast, you can design the layout for the space—if you’re not too in-demand by then.”

Katniss squeezed his hand in response. “I will always make time for you…for us.”

Peeta leaned down to press a kiss to her knuckles. “I hope that’s for a long time.”

She really…really hoped so, too.

“Katniss?”

Looking up, Katniss almost fell off her chair. “Gale?”

Her high school boyfriend stared at her nervously, his grey eyes fleeting between her and Peeta.

“I’m here with some work colleagues,” he informed her before nodding at the bar where a group of similarly suited men stood, along with a pretty blonde in a black dress who seemed to be staring her down. “Just a little catch-up with the firm.”

“Our neighbor is the executive chef and owner,” Peeta suddenly piped in.

Katniss gave his hand an assuring squeeze before looking to Gale. “This is Peeta Mellark—my husband.”

Gale looked taken aback but gathered himself quickly. “Gale Hawthorne—a friend of Katniss’.”

He held out his hand for Peeta to shake.

Peeta took his hand, shaking it, his own stare firm.

“Oh, come now—you’re a little more than that. Katniss and I don’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Yeah, I followed him here.” Her eyes went to Peeta, her lips rising in a smile. “But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Then, I guess I owe Gale,” he replied, his own gaze on her. Peeta looked up at the man. “Thank you for bringing her to me.”

“No problem…I guess,” Gale said tightly. “Listen, I have to get going, but it was great seeing you again—and it was great meeting you, Peeta.”

“Of course,” they chorused together.

Katniss met Gale’s eyes. Once upon a time, she couldn’t look at him without swooning and after they broke up, she couldn’t think about him without her chest squeezing in pain.

Now, as she looked at him, she felt nothing.

“Goodbye, Gale.”

Giving her a tight smile, he stumbled off to rejoin his group.

Peeta looked. “You okay?”

Katniss nodded, cupping his cheek before leaning across the table to place a gentle kiss on his lips. Her heart leapt hearing his content sigh against her mouth.

They pulled apart, their eyes never straying from one another.

“I’ve never been better,” she told him as they stood to leave.

Together, they walked hand in hand out of the restaurant.

They didn’t even notice Gale frantically texting on his phone.

++++++

“Do you think you got enough flour?” Katniss teased as they walked into their apartment building. “I mean, I can understand one bag, but four…you are insane.”

“You have to understand that these are not just any old flours,” Peeta said, his arm reaching around her waist to pull her close. “One is regular white flour, one is coconut, one is almond, and the other whole wheat. They may seem the same, but they have different effects. Plus, they are all local. Imagine if I opened Mellark Bakery, I would need a place to buy flour and why not local?”

“Farmers’ Markets have never been this interesting.” Katniss reached into her bag as they reached their floor. “I have to drop off some stuff to Annie and Beetee. Come with me?”

“Of course.” Together, they walked up the flight of stairs and into the open door of the Odairs’ apartment. “Hello?”

On the weekends, everyone usually left their door open for visits from one another. It had been an interesting first weekend for them when Effie came knocking and they had to scramble to make themselves presentable.

“We’re in here!” Finnick’s voice came from the back of the apartment. “Bedroom!”

“You better not be naked!” Katniss responded as they carefully walked down the hallway to the room. “I brought the honey that Annie wanted.”

“Please don’t tell us that you’re doing something that you’ll need the honey for!” Peeta said as he closed his eyes.

Katniss peeked into the room, letting out a sigh. “Open your eyes, Peeta.”

Annie, Finnick, and Jack were all on the bed, their friend’s belly exposed.

“Hey Mellarks,” Finnick greeted with a jaunty smile. “We were just listening to the babies.”

It was then that they noticed the pair of earbuds resting on Annie’s stomach along with a small box.

“It’s to catch the fetal heartbeat,” Annie explained as she scooted up. She turned the box over to show them a small probe as she placed an earbud in one of her ears. “All I do is move it…here.” Annie handed Katniss the other earbud. “Listen.”

Carefully, Katniss sat on the edge of the bed next to Annie and took the earbud, placing it in her ear.

“Hear that?” Annie said to her. “That galloping is the heartbeat of one of the twins.”

Katniss felt her heart pound when the sound of galloping hit her ears. “I hear it!” Her mouth rose into a grin. “That’s amazing!”

Her eyes met Peeta’s, warmth in his own. For a moment, Katniss wondered how he might be like as a father. Probably great—better than she would be as a mother, anyway.

She turned back to Annie, who beamed at her. “I know that look.” Her friend nodded at her husband in the doorway. “It’s that look guys get when they’re trying to figure out how to plant their seed in you.”

“That’s…descriptive,” Katniss replied. “But, it’s still so early for that.”

“Are you sure?” Annie questioned, peering at her curiously. “We’re the same age and I had Jack about three years ago...but it might be different for you two.”

Looking back at Peeta, Katniss felt her heart sink at the thought that maybe later he might be having children with someone else.

“Yeah, maybe,” she managed to muster.

++++++

“Gorgeous artichokes,” Beetee said as he peeked into the bag that Peeta handed him. “Thanks for bringing these over.” He placed them on his kitchen island. “An old friend of mine is coming down from Portland and I’m cooking her dinner tonight.”

“Friend, huh?” Katniss chuckled seeing the man go scarlet.

“I’ve known Wiress since forever,” he told them plainly.

“But sometimes it can become more,” Peeta said. “Katniss and I were friends for a good few months then, all of a sudden, it was like I couldn’t live without her.”

She whipped around. “Really?”

Peeta went to her, lifting her chin. “I mean, who could live without these smoky eyes?” His hand went to her cheek. “Or these freckles?” Leaning down, he traced her lips with his thumb. “Or this bow on her lip?”

“Very descriptive,” Beetee told them with a small smile. “I will keep that in mind.” There was a beep and the man reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Effie is calling you down.”

“We have to get these into our place and then we’ll head over,” Peeta said. “I’ll bring up a loaf for tonight’s special dinner. It will go great with that raspberry spread that we got you.”

“Thanks.” The man waved them off. “Now, go—you’ve made me nervous!”

They laughed as they walked down the flight of stairs to their floor.

“I wonder what Effie wants,” Peeta said as they took their last step down.

“Probably just wondering what our plans are for tonight,” Katniss said.

He put an arm around her. “I was hoping for a quiet night of me and you—and The Great British Bake Off.”

Katniss quickly pressed a kiss to his lips as they stepped into their apartment.

“As long as you cook then I’m game for anything.”

“Katniss Everdeen—how could you!”

She turned to find her mother standing in front of them, the framed photo of their ‘wedding’ in her hands.

++++++

“Mom?”

Katniss was definitely the spitting image of the woman standing in front of them.

Except this woman looked pissed.

“Katniss!” A young blonde suddenly appeared and hugged his wife. Peeta recognized Prim immediately, despite the fact that she wasn’t wearing pigtails like her photo on their mantle. When Prim pulled away, her blue eyes were panicked, and the girl got closer to Katniss. “I was texting you…”

“My phone service sucks,” Katniss said, quietly bewildered. “It’s hard to get a signal when you’re on the train.”

Prim looked between them. “Why did you never mention…” She looked to Peeta. “…him?”

Katniss turned to him. “We are so fucked.”

The sound of laughter echoed in the hall and they all turned to find Effie and Haymitch, accompanied by a dark-haired man. They were all holding glasses of what was looked like Haymitch’s favorite rum.

“Katniss, your father is such a charmer,” Effie said as they entered the apartment. The woman went to her, eyebrows furrowed. “You look grey.”

“Stephen.” They all looked to Katniss’ mother, still gripping the wedding photo. “Look.”

Katniss let out a pained moan and Peeta pulled her close to keep her from keeling over.

Her father took the photo, staring at it for a moment before giving it back to his wife.

Silently, he walked over to them and Peeta braced himself. Katniss’ father was a burly man and he had that look about him—like he could hurl his daughter’s fake husband down the building’s stairs.

“Congratulations, baby,” he said softly before holding his hand out to Peeta. “Stephen Everdeen—your father-in-law.”

Carefully, Peeta shook his father-in-law’s hand—just in case it was a trick and he was actually going to break his wrist.

Katniss lifted her head from his shoulder to look at her dad. “You’re not mad?”

“When Hazelle called and told us that Gale insisted that we come to San Francisco, I thought the worst!” he informed her.

“This isn’t the worst-case scenario?” his wife suddenly burst out.

“Katniss, Peeta—you hid this from your parents?” Effie scolded. “For a year?”

“You’ve been married for a year?” Katniss’ mother screeched.

“Robin, you made it seem like something terrible happened—like she had married Gale!” Her dad said. He looked to where Katniss and Peeta clung to one another. “This I can deal with. I mean, he looks completely harmless.”

Peeta wasn’t sure if he felt insulted or flattered. Behind him, Haymitch guffawed at the man’s words.

“I didn’t realize that you hated my best friend’s son that much.” Katniss’ mother had crossed her arms, scowling at her husband.

“Honey, that is not what I meant.” Stephen went to his wife. “You know that he was a tool who dropped our daughter like a hot potato as soon as he discovered the joy of college girls. Is that what you wanted for our girl?”

“No,” Katniss’ mother said petulantly. “But, married for a year?” She looked to Katniss, her eyes watering. “Why not tell us?”

“We’re sorry,” Katniss said quietly. “We planned to, but then it just got too hard.”

“And, before we knew it, it was a year,” Peeta finished for them. “My parents don’t know either, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” Prim told him bluntly. “I’m Prim, by the way…your sister-in-law.”

There was a sharp whistle and they all turned to see Haymitch at the doorway.

“Now that we are all caught up, might I suggest that we get some rest and then meet up for dinner in the backyard,” their landlord said. “Mr. and Mrs. Everdeen will stay in our guest room. Prim can stay on Katniss and Peeta’s couch, if that’s okay with her.”

“I’m cool with that,” Prim said, eyeing the couple.

“Robin, would you like a drink?” Effie asked, approaching Katniss’ still shell-shocked mother.

The woman nodded and, with a wink from their landlord, Robin was whisked off to the Abernathy apartment.

Immediately after the apartment door across shut, Prim turned on them.

“Now, what’s really going on?”

++++++

“Oh shit.”

Peeta set down the plate of buns and homemade jam before joining Katniss and Prim on their couch.

“Yeah, I know,” Katniss agreed as she took Peeta’s hand. It had taken an hour to explain the whole complicated tale that they had woven to Prim—enough time for Peeta to start therapeutically baking. “But, we’re happy.”

He kissed the side of her head. “We are.”

“But, you’re lying,” Prim replied as she took a bun and tore it open. “Everyone thinks you’re married!” She looked to Peeta as she took the butter knife on the plate and smeared jam all over the bun. “Your parents don’t even know. How long do you think you can keep this up?”

“We had agreed on a year,” Katniss told her sister. “But, you’re right, we should tell everyone.”

Prim took a bite of the bun and her eyes went wide. “Oh damn! This is delicious!” She looked to Peeta and grinned through her chews. “Now I can understand why my sister pretend-married you. She can’t cook anything.”

“Hey!” Katniss looked to her sister incredulously. “That’s not fair. His family has a bakery!”

“I’m not with Katniss because of any of that,” Peeta told her sister. “I care for her. I want to be with her—for as long as she wants…”

Katniss felt her eyes burn at his words. “You do?”

Peeta pressed his forehead to hers, his blue eyes glowing. “I do.”

“You two are just the cutest fakest couple ever,” Prim concluded as she polished off the last of the buns. “Are there any more?”

++++++

It was during dinner that the other shoe was dropped.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to have a proper wedding,” Katniss’ mother pronounced.

Everyone had gathered except for Beetee who was having his dinner with Wiress. Their neighbor had introduced her on everyone, a blush on his cheeks that matched the shy woman’s scarlet complexion.

The Odairs had joined them and, at Katniss’ insistence, Johanna. She could always count on Johanna to keep things civil—or be a distraction.

Katniss looked over to where her mother sat next to Effie, who apparently, she had become quite buddy-buddy with. “What?”

“Since you decided to leave us out of your official wedding, I think it’s only right that we have another ceremony with both our families,” her mother informed her.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea!” Effie agreed, her eyes bright. “However, that does take a lot of time—planning a wedding.”

“I used to be an event planner when the girls were still little,” Robin explained. “So, it’s a no-brainer for me. Getting it done in two weeks might be a little difficult, but we can’t take any more time away since Stephen has so many patients that need him at the clinic.”

“Two weeks?” The comment came from Peeta, who had suddenly gone pale. Underneath the table, the grip on Katniss’ hand had suddenly tightened. “And, I haven’t told my parents—”

“No need,” Katniss’ mother replied. “I have already called them and introduced myself. They should be arriving in a day or two.”

“How did you even get their contact information, mom?” Prim asked, next to Johanna.

Haymitch cleared his throat. “I might’ve had Beetee get their contact information.” He avoided Katniss’ glare. “Also, Google.”

“I have a great idea,” Effie said. “We can do the ceremony here in the garden, along with the reception. There’s more than enough room…and I know someone who can design a lovely arch for the ceremony to take place under.”

“I can do the catering,” Annie added from her seat. “I know a few bakeries willing to make a wedding cake for me, too.”

“I’ll take care of the music,” Finnick said, rubbing his wife’s back. “Beetee can help with connecting a sound system.”

Robin nodded in approval until she reached Johanna. “And, what will you contribute?”

For the first time since Katniss had met Johanna, she could tell that her friend was flustered.

“Um…I guess bridesmaid dresses and such?”

“What about a wedding gown?” her mother probed.

Johanna squirmed. “I don’t think I have anything like that—"

“Wait! Katniss can use mine!” Effie called out excitedly. “It was awhile ago, but I think the silhouette is still in fashion.” She smiled warmly at Katniss. “It would be an honor if you would.”

Katniss could see the tears in Effie’s eyes—how could she refuse?

She turned to Peeta who looked like he was about to faceplant into his plate any moment now, before turning to her landlord.

“I would love that.”

++++++

“I’m exhausted.” Katniss flopped on the bed, closing her eyes as Peeta joined her wearily. “You okay?”

“Other than the fact that both of our families have swarmed into our lives like locusts?” He chuckled quietly. “I guess I’m okay.” She opened her own eyes to find him gazing at her. “Come here. I need to hold you.”

She shifted to lay her head on his chest, her arm splaying across his stomach. “I’m sorry that this is such a mess.”

“When do we tell them?” he asked her.

“When your parents arrive.” she suggested.

Peeta turned his head towards her. “Katniss, I’m not ready to give you up.”

She looked up at him, her hand reaching for his cheek. “Neither am I…does it have to end badly though?”

“Effie and Haymitch…everyone else…they’re going to hate us,” Peeta replied. “I don’t want them to.”

“I know.” Katniss swallowed the lump in her throat. “They’re like…”

“Family,” he finished for her. “And, Katniss, you know…” Peeta stopped to sit them both up, his expression serious before meeting her stare. “You know that I lo—”

“KATNISS! PEETA! Open up!”

They shot out of bed, pulling open their door and heading down the hallway to the frantic knocking coming from their front door.

Prim sat up sleepily from the couch. “W-What’s going on?”

Opening the door, they found Finnick with Jack in his arms and a panting Annie, holding a bag.

“It’s time,” he told them before handing Jack to Peeta. Thankfully, the little boy was fast asleep. “We’ll call you guys as soon as we can.”

“Of course,” Peeta agreed, patting Jack’s back.

“Do you have everything?” Katniss asked. “Or, do you need us to call anyone?”

“No…” Annie breathed out. “We have no other family…just you guys…”

Katniss felt something tighten in her chest at her friend’s words.

“Of course.” She gave Annie and Finnick a hug. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of Jack.”

“Good luck,” Peeta added.

Closing the door, they looked at one another then at Prim, who was already falling back asleep, before their eyes went to Jack.

“I guess we have another addition to our bed,” Katniss whispered.

Peeta shifted the toddler in his arms. “Guess so.”

Prim snorted, somewhere between dreams and sleep.

“Perfect birth control for those imaginary children that you’re trying to prevent!”

Katniss chuckled, ignoring her sister’s words. “Let’s get him to the room.”

It was later that night as she watched Jack and Peeta sleep that she realized just how much Prim’s remark had affected her.

Katniss did want children. Deep inside—in that small vulnerable space that she kept hidden away—is where she admitted that she maybe wanted them with Peeta.

++++++

Within the next few days, there were several new additions to the building.

Sarah and Rose Odair arrived in the wee hours of the morning. While born early, both were perfectly healthy, and sporting their father’s fiery locks. Annie and the girls were released after a day or two and everyone, especially Effie, were excited for their arrival.

Peeta, along with Stephen and Haymitch, helped build the nursery since the parents didn’t have the chance. It was then that Peeta got to know his faux father-in-law. He was an oncologist at a prominent hospital and clinic where his hours were long, but the job was fulfilling.

“What do you want to do career-wise?” Stephen asked as they sat in the half-done nursery, which was also Jack’s room—whenever he decided to sleep in it.

“My parents own a bakery in Washington D.C. It’s called Mellark Bakery, of course,” Peeta started. “And, I wanted to expand it to the West Coast. I majored in Business and created a pretty solid plan…but they still need convincing.”

Stephen chuckled as he finished bolting one side of the crib that the twins would be sharing.

“I’ve been there,” the man told him. “My parents were unsure of my plans to go to medical school. I was a bit of rebel—caused all kinds of trouble in high school—and so they also needed convincing. Hand me that flathead?”

Peeta handed him the necessary screwdriver. “And, how did you convince them?”

“I didn’t. Robin did,” Stephen said. “She has a lot of conviction—like Katniss.” He went back to tightening the bolt. “Maybe you might want to have Katniss convince your parents.”

Peeta shook his head. “I wouldn’t want her to do that. I mean, I’m glad she supports me, but I need them to have faith in me—if this business plan is going to work.”

Stephen stopped, placing the screwdriver down, before turning to him.

“That’s how I know you’ll be good for my girl. You want her to walk beside you, not behind or in front. You’re equals. I love my wife, but she had a lot of work when she took me on!” The man laughed. “And if Katniss had been with Gale, she would be his little wife, playing hostess and such. I never wanted that for her.”

“If anyone really knows Katniss, they would know that she was never meant to be on the sidelines.”

The man grinned at him, patted his shoulder, before they both fell back into working on the crib.

++++++

The Mellarks showed up the day after the twins came home. They arrived in a black Sedan, smartly dressed, and obviously curious about Peeta’s life in San Francisco.

Peeta’s father Christopher was tall and sandy-haired—it was obvious where Peeta had inherited his kind, blue eyes and bright smile from. Katniss almost swooned; she would never admit it to anyone though, thinking that Peeta would be the mirror image of his father when he was older.

Peeta’s mother Daphne was petite and slender with ice-blue eyes and a sharp face. However, when she saw Peeta, her mouth broke into a wide smile, bringing warmth to her expression.

“Darling!” She kissed her son on the cheek, pressing a bright-red lip imprint on him. “You look wonderful!”

Peeta raised his brows in confusion. “I do?”

“Happier,” his mother said before looking to Katniss. “This must be Katniss.” Daphne reached out her hand for Katniss to take. “I’m Daphne Mellark—your mother-in-law.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Mellark,” Katniss said congenially.

“Please, call me Daphne…or Mom!” The woman told her.

“Daphne! Is that you?” Katniss’ mom was suddenly embracing the woman excitedly; the two were practically bouncing. “You’re just in time! Effie and I were just working on Katniss’ dress!”

“I can’t wait to see it!” Daphne exclaimed.

The two rushed off, hand in hand and skipping away.

“That was…weird,” Peeta said.

“Like watching two cheerleaders pumping themselves up for a competition,” Katniss added with an amused smile.

“Your mother is just excited to have some female company,” Peeta’s father informed the two. He hugged Peeta before extending a hand to Katniss. “Christopher—your father-in-law.”

Katniss shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir…and can I just say—wow.”

The man laughed before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I think you’re going to be a great addition to the family.”

“Where are Bran and Alex?” Peeta asked.

“They were heading up when Prim and Johanna accosted them in the backyard. Couldn’t resist that Mellark charm,” his father replied with a grin. “I’m going to head to Effie and Haymitch’s. Your father and Haymitch promised me a great whiskey tasting while your mothers take over your wedding.”

“Oh good,” Katniss said weakly.

Peeta put an arm around her. “Let’s go see my brothers.”

They all separated in the hallway and together, Katniss and Peeta made their way downstairs.

“I have to warn you,” Peeta started. “My brothers can be…boisterous.”

“That’s fine,” she replied as they walked into the backyard door. “I just saw our moms bouncing like two sorority sisters on spring break.”

Peeta laughed, kissing her affectionately on the cheek.

“PEETA!”

Katniss yelped, seeing the two figures rush towards them. She hurried away, joining Prim and Johanna, both staring shamelessly at the three blonds.

“Bran! Alex! Quit it!” Peeta yelled.

“Oh no, little brother!” one of them responded.

“It’s time for the Mellark roundup—and you get to be in the middle!” the other added.

Katniss along with Prim and Johanna watched as the brothers jumped, Peeta helplessly in the middle, and began to shout:

“Mellark! Mellark! Mellark!”

“It’s like an all blond rugby match,” Katniss said in amazement.

“Or a really hot Swiss porn,” Johanna added.

“Can you see them in lederhosen?” Prim asked.

Simultaneously, they all tilted their heads trying to imagine the Mellark brothers in the get-up, suspenders and all.

They weren’t disappointed.

When the brothers separated, Peeta embraced them both before leading them to Katniss.

He reached for her hand, giving her a happy smile. “Bran, Alex—this is my Katniss.”

A rush of warmth engulfed her—she was his Katniss.

The taller blond in a business suit and leather loafers approached her. “Bran Mellark, the oldest…and the best.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Congratulations. I can tell that Peeta has himself a great girl.”

Alex bounced over to her. His hair was much lighter, and his blues were more like Daphne’s. However, the roundness of them were Peeta and Christopher’s.

“Sis…” He lifted her off the ground. “I can’t believe that Peeta snagged you. You know I’m still available.” Alex winked flirtatiously.

“I much prefer this particular Mellark,” Katniss said, her hand going to Peeta’s shoulder.

“Well, now that you’re part of the family…” Alex looked to Bran and nodded.

“You have to be part of the Mellark round-up,” Bran finished.

Katniss shook her head. “I’m good.”

However, they were already sandwiching her and Peeta between them.

“This is like a fantasy and a nightmare all at the same time,” she told Peeta.

Peeta grimaced. “This is my nightmare.”

There was nothing she could do about it now because they were already jumping.

Prim rushed over, tripping over her feet. “Let me join in! I’m your sister, too!”

“Wait!” Johanna was never one to be left out. “Me, too!”

Katniss met Peeta’s eyes as both her sister and friend joined in on the chanting, their arms wrapped around their very own Mellark brother:

“Mellark! Mellark! Mellark!”

Katniss smiled wryly.

“Now this is my nightmare.”

++++++

“Good evening, everyone.” Katniss’ father stood at the head of the table. “If we haven’t been properly introduced, I am Katniss’ father, Stephen. My wife along with Peeta’s parents, Christopher and Daphne, want to thank you for welcoming our families into your homes.” He looked out at the table of people, assembled outside in the backyard of the apartment. “We also want to thank Effie and Haymitch, who have welcomed our children, Katniss and Peeta, to become part of their makeshift family.”

Effie beamed and Haymitch put an arm affectionately around his wife’s shoulders.

“I know that it might seem fast to be having this wedding in a mere few days,” Stephen continued. “But, I guess that’s just the way things have fallen into place. From what we’ve been told, that’s how the first wedding happened.” He eyed Katniss and Peeta affectionately. “I am not too surprised, however. I know my girl, Katniss, and she has always instinctively known what was right.”

Immediately, Katniss’ chest began pounding. There was a slow balloon of air filling her chest and she swallowed it down, giving everyone a tight smile.

“Katniss was named after her grandmother, a woman of great conviction and bravery. A woman who was never afraid to tell the truth—even if it hurt…”

The balloon was getting bigger and Katniss gulped trying to catch her breath.

“…and when I first looked at my baby girl, I knew that she would be just like my mother—”

She couldn’t breathe!

Abruptly, Katniss gasped and pushed up from table. “E-Excuse me!”

“Sis, are you okay?” Prim asked from across the table.

She nodded, though her head was spinning. “I-I-I’ll be right back!”

Turning, Katniss rushed out of the yard and sprinted into the building. Gripping the stair railing, she pulled herself up towards her floor and practically flung herself into her apartment.

With a slam of the door, she felt the tears escape.

She was a fraud.

“Katniss?”

Peeta was closing the door behind him and she reached for him.

Immediately, he wrapped his arms around her, his hand going through her hair. “What’s going on?”

“All of them there…acting like a family…and us lying to them…” Katniss swiped her hand across her hands. “They’re all going to be heartbroken when they find out.”

Peeta nodded in understanding.

“Then…we don’t tell them.”

Katniss started at his words. “What?”

“We do the ceremony,” Peeta said. “And like we agreed, we move in one year…or just break up.” He looked torn. “It’s what we agreed on.”

“Well, that was before—”

Before she had fallen in love with him.

The realization hit hard.

And, she couldn’t breathe again.

End of Part Three

Yeah, I’m a liar. There’s going to be a part four. It was getting crazy long.

However, I’m sure the next part will be much shorter.

Thanks for reading y’all!

Until the end, JLaLa

#Rent Control #Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #fakemarriage!au

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