#i took so many photos none of them turned out how i envisioned heres what you get

[sweetlyocs]

We Just Chillin’ - 7illin’ in the DREAM ep 1

synopsis: the first episode of 7illin’ from Phoenix’s point of view 

note: each episode will have it’s own story! this is kinda how i envisioned her in the dynamics and fingers crossed it follows each episode right... 

warnings: none, zilch, nada 

The sound of gravel crunching was lost between the breeze and the sound of laughter building down the road. Jeno turned his head back as he watched Somin pull out her phone taking photos of their surroundings, smiling brightly under his mask as she directed to camera to him then reaching out to grab his hand the two continued the short walk together. 

The sounds of Haechan and Chenle at the hoop welcoming them, after saying a quick hello, Somin scurried off to sit with Renjun in the shade, almost collapsing onto the boy as he whined from getting knocked. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to just breathe, feeling all the stress and anxiety her body had been holding beginning to disperse at the touch of the warm breeze and the sounds of her friends being carefree. Without noticing the time passing, Somin suddenly felt a weight rest over her legs as Jaemin wiggled onto the couch, squinting her eyes open she patted his chest before shoving his legs off her as she skipped towards Mark, clinging onto the blue haired Canadian. The two having not seen each other from conflicting schedules, he squeezed her shoulder as he led the two of them around outside as he was taking everything in. 

As her eyes adjusted to the inside of the house she couldn’t help but let out a small gasp at the interior. Unbeknownst to her, Mark and Jeno’s eyes met and they shared a look as the girl darted out from the elders grasp and began exploring her surroundings. 

“Wow.. this is like what my dream house used to look like,” Turning his head, Haechan laughed at her, “Is it still your dream house because you have all of Dream here with you?” “Yuck, no, my dream house has a no Haechan rule” 

Somin quickly ran upstairs to avoid the dramatic smack that was headed her way, the laughter followed her up the stairs as they continued to explore. 

As they sat together, Somin moved behind Haechan as they began to settle down, grabbing a pillow she crossed her legs as she drifted off to sleep already, 

“-o, Phoenix should decide where she sleeps first!” “Yah! You’re only saying that because there are camera’s” “Pfft no I’m not” “You shove her off the couch at the dorm all the time be quiet” “Somin-ah, are you fine if we decide by playing sciss-” “I could honestly care less, as long as Jeno is in the house I’m fine with whatever” “Hey!”

Laughing at her response the group began their game, Chenle shifting slightly as he felt her head rest on his back taking note as how her breathing became more spaced out despite the chaos ensuing. 

As everyone sulked in their own way after deciding rooms, Somin caught Haechan pulling open her bag as he began opening it much to her dismay. 

‘You brought so much stuff..” “I’m a girl I require more things” She responded shrugging her shoulders, 

“Okay! Lets see, we have masks, lotion, more lotion,” “Why do you have so many?” “Because one is just normal and the other one is like a perfume one, I layer it” “Ahhh it makes sense,”

“Oh sheet mask! Charger, battery, a book?” Laughing at his confusion she grabbed the book, “What is it?” Chenle reached over to open it as she smiled at Jisung, “It’s called The Art of War, it’s a present that I got from Jaehyun oppa when we were talking about my degree” Nodding they watched Haechan continue to dig through the bag, the group quiet as he pulled out a single polaroid in a id case, he shifted his eyes to meet hers before putting it back in the bag, “And that is it, everyone clap!”   

After everyone had left to do their own thing, Somin went off to grab her book as she sat outside on the balcony, listening to the laughter and mumbled sounds of conversations. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to her dad as she leaned back to take in the scenery. This is exactly what she needed.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 32

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: drunkness, nightmares.

NEXT CHAPTER

  �� - Sharon? 

There she stood, in all her elegant and precise posture dignified of someone who had been trained to be a spy. Y/N had spoken to Sharon before yet it had been brief so all she knew about her was what she had learned from the media and what Bucky had told her. Yet, Bucky wasn’t one to share much about his life as a Winter Soldier or an Avenger. Despite all this mystery surrounding the woman standing in the kitchen, she trusted her. She was Bucky’s friend and Steve’s girlfriend, a decorated scholar and agent. If she wanted to hurt her the chance was very, very low. Besides, she doubted Bucky would’ve just gone around giving people his address. He doesn’t even tell anyone but the barista his coffee order, not that it is too hard to guess.

    - Bucky asked me to look after you while he’s gone. - she said before Y/N could even question her. - He said you’d feel more comfortable with a woman watching over you.

    - He really left, uh? - Y/N knew he had left, after all his dog tags were hanging from her closed fist, but her more optimistic self, the more happy look which wanted to believe he was gonna be told this was mistake and he could return to the normal life he had paid by with blood, sweat and tears.

    - Do you wanna go for breakfast? There’s a nice spot just a few blocks away from here. - she tried to distract her, kind smile forming. - I always thought you and me should get to know each other. You know, Steve and Bucky are like brothers so we’ll see each other a lot. 

     - Yeah, I hum ... I just need to get dressed. - Y/N wanted to be her happy, cheery self and she knew Sharon was only trying to make her feel better but all she could think about was Bucky and if he was safe.

She knew she was no super soldier, no super spy, not a witch or an agent but she just wanted to help him. She was already helpless in her own life, merely following along as others guided her, too afraid to step too much out of line in fear of losing what she had worked for. After all, many people wanted what she had, many people wanted a contract with a household agency thus she had to be compliant. She had to step on the breaks before she even turned the key. However, if there was something she had agency on it was her relationships and she wanted to help him. God, she wished to never see that look, the look he gave her that morning after that call. It was pure sorrow mixed with anger and she wondered how long he’d felt that way. She wondered if anyone had tried to help him rather than weaponise him. It was not her choice to decide what Bucky wanted to do with his life, it was not her right to demand him explain her demons to her but it was her choice and her pleasure to be by his side and right now she wanted to be by his side. Even if her mother had raised her not to rely on a man. It wasn’t relying on him, it wasn’t being only completed when a man was around, it wasn’t her feeling incomplete whenever he was around. No. It was none of that. It was merely wanting to hold the hand of someone who had for the longest time not had anyone to hold his hand. It was loving someone so much, she’d be okay with holding his burden with him even if he didn’t want to. It was merely loving someone, darkness and light, and she loved him. 

Her hands gripped the sink of the bathroom, eyes gazing onto the mirror in front of her and as such her own face. She watched every line, every corner, contour and shadow of her face, the dog tags softly dangling around from her neck, the only part of him she had near her. Y/N splashed cold water against her face, trying to let her own optimism flow into what was now a negative outcome. She stepped outside of the bedroom, a soft smile drawn on her features.

   - Should we go? - Sharon suggested, grabbing her coat which was laying over the couch. - It will make you feel better, Y/N. 

   - Yeah, I’m just ...

   - He’s one of the best operatives in the field. - Sharon interrupted her. - He will be fine, I promise you. 

   - You can’t promise me that. - she said as she took her own jacket from the hooks on the wall.

   -  I’ve seen him fight before, Y/N. I’ve been where you are, it’s shit but ... you gotta trust someone who’s strong enough to carelessly break a brick, will be fine. 

Sharon meant well, she knew she did and she was glad she was there but Y/N felt nothing but completely numb to what was happening around her. It seems as he had left with her heart and now she was longing his and hers didn’t get broken in the middle of HYDRA’s crossfire. She didn’t know much about HYDRA or even the Winter Soldier, her parents had shielded her and her siblings from the bad of the world and while she had seen Washington in the TV and remembered when Captain America had been regarded as a traitor, she had never been explained much about HYDRA and all that was out in the internet was glossed over with a paint coat of big, bad monster. Funny how big, bad monsters don’t look like monsters at all. She’d not even been in the country when the first modern Winter Soldier attacks had occurred and she was younger, much more naive. What she could remember was circled with rumours of politicians then blaming every single event on the soldier, turning him into a folklore-like creature but he was not folklore, he really existed. Conscious or not conscious, he existed. She didn’t know how Bucky felt about it, he’d never tell her but what she knew was that he drew a line between who he had been and who he was now, and he hated to cross that line.

The harsh sound of the coffee steamer from the coffee machine took her from her own head. The coffee shop itself was mostly empty, highly due to it being later in the morning and all she wanted to do was return to her bedroom and stay there until she had to go for her photoshoot. However, the waitress was already taking their orders which meant she had to at least stay here until the two of them had eaten whatever Sharon had prepared. 

   - How do you do it? - Y/N blurted out, clearly losing any control over her mind to mouth filter. - The missions ... I mean, Steve must be going on them all the time. 

   - Well, whenever I don’t go ... it’s hell. - she smiled tightly. - One thing is going on a mission yourself, the other one is someone who you love going. And for what? Crocked politicians? 

   - I get a feeling you’re not a big fan of the government. 

   - You’d be right. So, what’s the schedule for today? Bucky didn’t really explain what your job entails.

   - There’s a photoshoot today at 3, then it’s free days until Monday where I have to go on set to film the last scenes. 

    - Photoshoot? Sounds fun. 

    - The Virgin Bride for Vogue.

    - Oh ... - she agent scrunched up her face. - Not so fun.

    - They’re doing an issue on the types of brides. You know ... because type casting not only occurs in Hollywood, it occurs in life too. You got your bridezellas, your over 30 brides, your rebel brides and the virgin bride. Being the virgin bride does fit with the image they want for me. 

     - I never really understood type casting, if I’m being honest. You know, the rat, brit, brat pack. Never really made sense.

     - It’s a marketing strategy. It is easier to market someone as a type rather than a complex person.

She liked photoshoots, she mostly got to dress up and get photographed almost like a big makeover like in those 90s movies she still curled up against her comforter to see. This particular one did make her upset, to be in a white wedding dress, surrounded by soft white fabric was particularly cruel. She knew her wedding was not going to be what she dreamed of a kid and unless she wanted to get her agency or the government in the business, the two of them would’ve had to get married in the civil hall. However, it did not matter to her where she got married, it mattered that the person she wasn’t engaged to was not here. It was almost like being dressed as a left at the altar bride ... like a widow. 

She unpinned the veil from her hair, taking off all the heavy jewellery that had been used to adorn her hair and put it on top of the desk where all the makeup was still open. The dress was pretty but it was big, it was too big, it almost swallowed her, it made her feel small but it reminded of him. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, how he was feeling, if he was safe.

    - That was boring. - Sharon said as she stepped inside the dressing room, holding two coffee cups. - I know that look. What’s wrong?

    - I hate this dress. - Y/N sat down in the chair. - It’s too big.

    - You look like a wedding cake.

    - Right. - Y/N moved the fabric up playfully. - I don’t think I can even move correctly. 

    - You should be thinking about your own soon. - Y/N gave Sharon a confused look. - Steve told me. Don’t tell Bucky, he’ll get upset and then Steve will be upset, big mess.

    - Well, it’s good to be able to speak to someone about it. - she smiled. Only Bucky and her parents knew, so she did not have many people to tell she was engaged to or to even speak about it. 

    - So, how do you envision your wedding dress?

    - Oh, I don’t ... I don’t really think about it. It’s most likely gonna be in city hall so it’s not worth it.

    - What? That’s bullshit. Everyone wears a dress. 

    - I can’t really go anywhere ... the paps would go crazy and that’s the last thing I need.

    - Still, everyone wears a dress even if they go to city hall.

Y/N merely shrugged. Her head was not in the right space and for the first time she was looking forward to go to set. It didn’t matter if being on set was dehumanising sometimes, it mattered that her head would’ve been somewhere else. She knew that as a perfectionist, her mind would be on finishing those scenes and not on Bucky. As she got home, she couldn’t help but get lost inside her mind again as Sharon put some old sitcom on the TV. She was surrounded by him, by memories of him, things that reminded her of him. Looking to her left there were framed photos of him, his jacket was still hanging from the door, the broken shards of porcelain were still on the sink. There were pieces of him everywhere and half of her felt ridiculous it was affecting her so much as it was but she loved him. She loved him.

    - Right, get your jacket. - Sharon got up from the couch.

    - Why? Where are we going?

    - You will see.

Y/N followed Sharon through the half lit Brooklyn night down to the back of several shops. The lights flickered, illuminating the bins filled with black plastic bags which laid in the back fronts of several shops. She watched as Sharon made her way towards a particular store back, taking a key from under a seemingly unseeingly rock which opened the heavy pad lock keeping the door shut. Sharon motioned her head towards the door and Y/N followed her into the dark shop. The agent closed the door behind them before she turned the lights. The bright white lights illuminated the shop floors and she noticed she was surrounded by hundreds of glass see through closets with various white dresses. Was she in a bridal shop?

    - You need to take your mind out of him. - Sharon sat against one of the pale pastel pink couches laid around the store. 

    - Is this legal?

    - You’re engaged to Bucky Barnes, how come you care about legality so much? 

    - I don’t want to get arrested, Sharon.

    - It’s one of my friends bridal store. You said you couldn’t do it without paps walking around and photographing you, so ... here you go.

    - I ... I don’t ... What if he doesn’t come back? - Y/N’s lip trembled as she crossed her arms and looked to the side.

    - Y/N, he will come back. It is one man against a soldier with the strength of five. Trust me, if not for anything else, he’ll come back to you. Now, dress, what dress do you want?

    - I don’t know. 

    - Come on. Pick one and try it on. We are not going home until you try a dress on.

    - Fine.

Y/N stared at the dresses, grabbing the first one she could find in her own size and dragging it onto the dressing room. It definitely was not her type of dress, at least not the type of dress she had envisioned getting married in. It was pure white, sleeveless with a cut which went down to her sternum, skin tight, hugging her body in a flattering way but it just wasn’t her dress. It wasn’t the dress she wanted to get married in, but right now it wasn’t the time to think about what dress to wear when Bucky was out. She shouldn’t be playing dress up. 

She waddled back to where Sharon was sat before she stopped in front of her, hands on her hips. Somehow, she had found some prosecco and plastic flutes and had her feet on top of the pale pink couch. 

   - Are you happy now? - Y/N sighed, mostly out off nuissance. 

   - Don’t give me that tone. - Sharon sipped from her own flute, handing Y/N the other one. - Come on, what do you think?

   - It’s ... uhm ... fine. - her hands gestured around the fabric.

   - What? That’s the first one you try. Why aren’t you crying? It isn’t the one if you’re not crying. That’s what they do in the movies.

   - I can cry.

   - No, spin. - Sharon waved her finger around and Y/N spun around slowly. - It ain’t it.

   - But Bucky ...

   - From now on every time you say the words James, Bucky, Buchanan, or Barnes, you’re drinking. 

   - But I don’t know if Bucky ...

   - Drink. - Sharon interrupted her. Y/N scrunched her face not really believing her but she looked dead serious. She took a sip of her prosecco, placing the flute on the table near her. - Come on, what does your wedding dress look like.

   - I don’t know ... I don’t want something skin tight, I want some floofy fabric.

   - Yeah, go on.

   - And I don’t want it to be too long, I want my shoes to show ... like Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face.

   - Let’s find it. 

Both she and Sharon went through tons and tons of dresses, through so much lace she was sure to dream about it for the next week until they found something that resembled what she wanted. Y/N ended up rather dizzy on the prosecco, not used to drinking too much, running around barefoot with the dress that was her dress in a rather subdued white which showed her legs from the ankle down, a voluminous little shirt which cinched at her waist. A rather short veil fell from her head, pinned to the crown of her head with a fake baby pink rose prong clip. The two ended up laying on the pink couch, heads leaning against the rather comfortable pillows as they nursed the rest of the bottle of prosecco.

   - Okay but I have a question ... - Y/N said, bringing her flute down. - Is it weird dating the same guy who kissed your great aunt?

   - Listen, Steve is a kissing whore. - she tried to say it with a straight face but ended up breaking into laughter. - It’s true. He’ll kiss anyone, unstoppable. The blonde girl from the army, my great aunt, Natasha. If it hadn’t been for me, Steve would be Captain Kisscam instead of Captain America. 

   - Captain Kisscam. What superpowers would he have? 

   - Making people kiss each other? No that sounds terrible. I don’t know ... to be honest what even is Steve’s superpower?

   - Ultimate ... - Y/N broke down laughing before she could continue. She put her hand in front of her chest, taking a deep breathe as she tried not to laugh at the joke in her head. - Ultimate frisbee.

   - You know? Sex on top of the shield? Terrible, so uncomfortable.

   - Sharon!

   - What? I was curious, it is a weirdly unbreakable shield, isn’t it? Besides, that’s not even the craziest thing we’ve done.

    - What’s the craziest thing you’ve done?

    - We did it at the Smithsonian.

    - SHARON! There’s children there. It’s ... a hall of science, and ... memorabilia ... and ... I don’t know, I’ve never been to the Smithsonian.

    - Oh, c’mon. What’s the craziest place where you and Bucky have done it?

    - You said Bucky, drink. - Y/N pointed her flute at Sharon.

    - So did you. Drink. - the two girls drank what was left over in the glasses, throwing them to the side. - Come on. Tell me.

    - I don’t know ... What are we counting as doing it?

    - 3rd base.

    - I do not understand bases. 

    - Handjobs don’t count. 

    - Oh ... then ... the parking lot of the set in his car. 

    - And the car didn’t break?

    - Come on, it’s not that old of a car.

    - It’s ancient, Y/N. - Sharon chuckled, passively looking at her watch to check on the time. - We should get going before the shop opens.

She went back into the dressing room to take off her wedding dress. It wasn’t until then she realised she was still wearing his dog tags, the cold metal against her warm skin, a side effect of the alcohol coursing through her veins. She was reminded of him again on that moment, wondered how he was doing, how he was feeling. She hoped and begged he was okay in her mind, and the memory of him haunted her mind even as she laid down in bed to go to sleep. There was a direct line from wedding gowns and dog tags to her fiance and wherever he was. Her blood distracted by the unhinging of the alcohol coursing along it, was filled with hate. Not for him but for his situation, for how helpless she was to helping him. 

She turned around in her bed, forcefully shutting her eyes as a way to ensure she went to sleep instead of dwelling on those thoughts. However, she simply didn’t have a choice to leave. As her consciousness dissolved into unconscious she woke up in the same bedroom but the environment was blurry, very highly saturated yet the colours were candy bright. However, the environment wasn’t inviting at all and soon broken through the candy bright atmosphere she could hear screaming. She tried to untangle herself from her sheets, running through the bedroom yet her movements were slow and her running was more like a slow motion run. She pushed open the door, coming face to face with the same candy coloured blurred bright world but in front of her was him but not him as she knew him. Not at least as she had known him. His hair was much longer, slightly past his jaw which was covered by a mask, a muffle. His clothing was restricting, the top almost resembling a straightjacket, as if he was dangerous. He was so close but so far away, on his knees with someone whose face was blurrier than the atmosphere itself.

   -  Don’t worry. - the blurred person’s voice was as distorted as the vision, mechanical even as he rose a gun up to the head of a Bucky Barnes she had never met. - We will help you.

   - NO! - she lunged forward as the gunshot echoed through her ears and like a rubber band she was pushed back to reality. She rose her torso from her bed in pure agony, eyes wide open and red, hand holding the sheet against her chest which rose up and down in fast paces.

Looking around, nothing was candy coloured and everything was clear. The room was dark in muddled shades barely lit by the moon light peaking from the small rips in the curtains Bucky had first gotten when he first moved in. Everything was as it was, his sleeping shorts were still hanging from the chair next to the dresser, the dead flowers were still in the vase he had once put them when they were fresh. Everything was as it was, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was lurking. The feeling that both of them had just crossed the bridge past the point of no return. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @niki-is-a-thing​ @cynic-spirit​ 

[kookiesjoonies]

risk it — jjk | nine.

risk it | nine: one more chance.

a/n: i know this update is kinda late, pls forgive me. xo 

↠ main pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x salon owner!reader

↠ side ships: namjin, vmin (fwb), hoseok x makeup artist!oc

↠ word count: 2.1k

↠ warnings: angst (duh lol), language 

SERIES SUMMARY:

✧ a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Jungkook’s hands were gripped onto the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had begun to turn white. His lips were pursed, brows narrowed, and chest heaving with angry breaths as he drove toward your salon. 

He had half a mind to turn around and drive in the opposite direction— to your apartment, where Yoongi was, and pummel him into the ground until he was bruised and bloody from head to toe. 

But he wanted to see you more. He wanted to tell you exactly what he thought about you having sex with his ex best friend, and he wanted to know exactly what the two of you had done together. 

Ever since Taehyung had sent that fucking picture in the group chat, it was all he could think about. He kept imagining Yoongi’s hands traveling up and down your body, Yoongi’s mouth trailing down your stomach, and every time he’d envision Yoongi fucking you into your mattress all he saw was red. 

When he finally pulled into a parking spot outside of the front door, he took a deep breath and ran the palms of his hands down his face in an attempt to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. 

The sign above the door read Kookie Cutters, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head as memories of the two of you together flooded back in. 

He was lying next to you on your shared bed, one hand mindlessly on your breast (as it always seemed to be), while his other hand held the television remote. 

You’d been trying to come up with a name for your business all afternoon, and at first, he was eager to help. But after you shot down all fifty of his suggestions, he’d resorted to just nodding and grunting as he let you ramble on. 

 “I want the name to be something unique, yet personal. Something that nobody else has thought of.” 

He nodded his head in agreement, attention more focused on the soccer game in front of him than on your words. 

You rolled your eyes, plucking a pillow from behind his head and swatting him with it. 

“Hey! I was listening!” He insisted, swatting your attack away with his hands. 

“Uh huh, so what did I say?” You lifted a brow, hands on your hips. 

He smirked at your newfound attitude, always finding it so adorable and endearing. 

“Alright, alright. You caught me.” He admitted, to which you let out an annoyed sounding huff. 

“Kook! This is important!” your eyes lit up then, a theoretical lightbulb switching on above your head, “Wait, that’s it! I’ve got the name!” 

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Jungkook teased, and you playfully punched his shoulder. 

“Kookie Cutters, but… spelled like your name.” You visibly blushed as you told him your suggestion, and he was sure you were the cutest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Sounds good to me.”

Jungkook inhaled one final deep breath before wrapping his hand around the door handle and opening it up, stepping inside of the decently sized building. 

He was immediately greeted with the smell of bleach and hairspray, the sound of gossiping hairdressers and clients buzzing through his ears. 

The place had grown impressively since the last time he’d been. You’d obviously hired more help, as well as made several renovations to the store’s overall aesthetic. The walls that used to be the ugliest shade of puke green were now a stylish cool toned grey, and the once tile floors had been replaced with dark rustic hardwood. You’d replaced the cheap light fixtures with spectacular chandeliers, and the waiting area that used to have a sofa and a small tv now housed several chairs and two wall mounted flat screens.

It suited the place, he thought. It suited you. 

“You look lost.” A feminine voice pulled him out of his trance, and he turned to face none other than Lee Mina. 

He offered her a small shrug, his eyes still looking the place over and attempting to catch sight of anything he might’ve missed. 

“Just impressed, is all. Looks a lot different than it did two years ago. Well, I mean, other than the name.” 

“You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?” The brunette crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her toes on the floor below, exuding annoyance from every single one of her pores. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two, yeah.” He confessed, looking past her and scanning the other women in the salon— looking for you. 

“She’s in her office,” Mina informed, “but I highly doubt she wants to see you.” 

“I told her I was on my way here.” 

“Awfully bold of you to come into a place filled to the brim with scissors and bleach, don’t you think?” Mina held a bite to her voice that damn near sent shivers down the man’s spine. 

Luckily, you finally made an appearance and stood beside your hard headed friend. 

“Down, girl,” you placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the waiting area, “you’ve got a client, no time for poisoning my ex boyfriend.” 

“Trust me,” she started, shooting a death glare in Jungkook’s direction as she began to walk away, “I can make time.” 

Jungkook was sure that if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under right now. 

“She doesn’t like me, does she?” 

You scoffed, hands on your hips.

“Can you blame her?” 

No, he couldn’t. 

He sighed, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck, “Can we go somewhere and talk?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, we can go into my office. Follow me.” 

He did as he was told, keeping a safe distance between the two of you as he walked behind you. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” 

You mumbled a thank you as you opened up your wooden office door, stepping aside and gesturing him to go in before you. 

Your office was just as impressive as the main space, but Jungkook could tell that you’d taken the time to make this room more personal. Pictures of you and your friends hung on the wall behind where your glass desk was sat, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t upset him to see that there weren’t any pictures of you two. Not that he’d expected there to be. 

Apparently, you could see the way that his face seemed to fall at that realization, and you were quickly bumping his hip to turn his attention to the picture frame beside your laptop. 

It was a photo of you and Jungkook, around seventeen years old, he guessed. His hair was much shorter, and his skin had a lot less ink— as in, had no ink. Yours was the same way, bare and tattooless. Jungkook was kissing your cheek in the photo, and you were grinning from ear to ear with your metal braces on full display. 

He couldn’t help but to reach out and touch it, allowing his fingers to ghost over the picture as he reminisced about the past. You’d become his everything when the two of you were just sixteen, the typical high school sweethearts cliché. 

He shared his first kiss with you, and you shared yours with him. It was so bad— teeth clacking and tongues unsure of what to do. But eventually, the two of you figured it out. Together. 

Your first time having sex was even worse, because neither of you even managed to cum. Maybe you would’ve, if Jungkook’s mom hadn’t walked in in the middle of it and proceeded to give you the world’s longest speech about how she was too young for grandchildren. 

“Did you really think I’d have pictures of everyone else, but leave you out?” You asked, taking a step forward and leaning your back against the desk beside him. 

“Guess it shouldn’t shock me,” he shrugged, straightening his posture as he sat on the edge of the desk and allowed one leg to dangle down, “seeing as how I still have a picture of you on my station at the shop.” 

“You know,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I was so mad before I came here. Really, my blood was boiling. But as soon as I laid eyes on you—“ 

“Don’t,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, “just say what you came here to say, Jungkook. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were staring straight forward at the frames hanging on the wall in front of you. He could see the way they were glossed over, tears threatening to spill out at any moment. 

He’d made you cry so many times before, and every single time he did he felt like he was dying— like all of the air was being slowly sucked from his lungs. 

“Bug, don’t cry,” he stood in front of you instantly, his hands instinctively finding their way onto the sides of your face, “I just wanted to apologize, to tell you that I’m sorry for hurting you.” 

You closed your eyes, and to his surprise, leaned into his touch. He swiped his thumb across your cheekbone as a single tear fell down, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You keep saying that,” you choked out, fully allowing the sobs to take over your body now, “but you don’t ever make any effort to stop doing it!” 

Your body began to shake, and you could no longer hold yourself up. The weight of everything that had happened recently, and in the past, was clearly getting to you. You fell against Jungkook’s chest as you continued to choke out pitiful sobs, and he used his strong arms to hold your body up to keep you from slipping to the ground. 

“I c-can’t do this anymore, Kook! I’m so in love with you that I feel it in every inch of my body, but all you seem to want to do is h-hurt me,” you continued to ramble, using the back of your hand to wipe at your nose, “and I know you don’t mean to sometimes. But sometimes y-you do! And I just— I miss you, I miss who you used to be. I miss the guy that loved me and treated me right when we were teenagers! I know he’s in there somewhere, so either dig deep and f-find him or stay the f-fuck out of my life because I—“ 

The sound of Jungkook’s own sobbing cut you off. He’d begun stroking your hair with his hand as he let you get everything out, but it wrecked him to know he was making you feel this way. 

“I’ll try and be better, I swear to God I will. You’re all I’ve ever fucking wanted, and I am so sorry for all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you. You deserve so much better than me,” he lifted your chin with his fingers so that his sad eyes could meet your own, “but if you’ll give me one more chance… I swear I’ll be the man that you need me to be.” 

He could tell that the gears of your mind were working in overdrive, weighing out the pros and cons of putting your trust in him again. He hoped with every fiber of his being that you would, because come hell or high water, he was going to prove to you that he was worth your love again. 

You lifted your hands up to meet his face, wiping his tears from his cheeks and tucking his long strands of hair behind his ears. 

“Okay. One more chance.” 

The sigh of relief that Jungkook breathed out could no doubt be heard from the other side of the world. He nodded once, taking in the fact that you’d actually agreed to have him in your life full time again, even on a trial basis. 

His forehead leaned against your own as he pulled you tighter against him, giving your body with the tightest embrace— scared that at any moment, you’d change your mind and run in the opposite direction. 

“I promise you won’t regret this, bug. I mean it, I—“ 

Jungkook was cut off by Mina swinging open the door to your office and announcing your presence with her seemingly always excited, high pitched voice. 

“Oh, my God! I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to interrupt, it’s just— uhm,” she was stammering awkwardly, and speaking way too quickly, “Yn, you uhm… have a client. She’s waiting for you.” 

You gave her a quick nod, letting her know that you’d be out in just a minute as you wiped at the mascara running under your eyes. 

“Call me later?” you asked, finally breaking away from your ex lover’s hold, “We have a lot more to talk about.” 

“Sure thing.” 

As you turned to exit the room, you stood up on the tips of your toes and placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder before allowing your lips to peck a kiss to his cheek. 

“Get home safe, Kook.” 

⇠ masterlist ⇢

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[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Stand In Chapter One

Masterlist

Being an assistant on the witcher set is a dream come true for you, helping bring to life the books and games you were brought up with. But when the project is threatened to be cancelled completely your called in to save the day! But can you really fill in for an actress?

Warnings: swearing

A/N: hello! So this was wrote on a whim sort of. I don't know if Keira is in the books honestly and I have no idea if she will be in season two but I wanted to write somthing different. Got a few ideas of where I can go with this but like I said just wanted to write something a little different. Hone you enjoy xxx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​ @angelofthorr @iloveyouyen​

logo divider is by @writeyourmindaway​ other one is by me xx

You moved through the hustle and bustle of the set your trusty clipboard what was you doing? Well the people needed feeding so you were taking orders, some people onset would eat at the food tent some would want to order in today it was your turn to take the orders and deliver them to the chefs. You grunted looking at your watch you needed to move quicker they'd be filming soon and expect the food to be ready by the time they finished...sounded easy but the guys were cooking meals for nearly one hundred  people and that took time... especially out here... You jogged up to the tent with an apologetic smile"Sorry guys had to round em up you know how it is!" You got a few chuckles. Yes they did know how it was having to take turns doing it themselves. You were just a regular onset dogs body, you help in any way shape or form and that’s that.

You smiled at them hanging the clip board on the hook for them to see clearly then They began barking orders to one another down the line  getting to work. You left them to it weaving in and out of everyone to get back to set incase someone needed anything again. Once you reached half way across the site your name was called turning you saw Mathew one of the other assistants.

"Hey y/n your needed in the directors tent chop chop!"

"What? why?" He shrugged then through his hands out wide walking backwards away from you he seemed in a hurry.

"Don't know was just told that you had to be there asap" You sighed and quickly turned on your heal towards the tent...If this was another coffee run you were gonna scream! It took forty five minutes to drive down this god forsaken mountain and you didn't really want to be bitched at by camera crew about delivering a cold fucking coffee again.

Henry and Joey panicked looking to each other Cancelled? They could be cancelled after all the fans and money the show had pulled in? They stood in the tent with Tomasz,Lauren and Talitha or 'Tee' as she prefers.

"So she just decided not to do it? A week before she was meant to be here? She had all the time over lock down to tell you and she left it till now?" Tomasz nodded stiffly to Henry who spoke, Henry and Joey were angry. Hell they all was, but them more so because they were actors and this was something you just didn't do. No integrity or respect. Lauren piped up.

"To be fair its a huge blockbuster role she was offered its no surprize she dumped us in favor of it... But now everything is up in the air she was a big role in this season and we can't start casting for it now, the two other back ups can't come and fill in either, one is recovering from covid and the other has a contract for another role." Joey placed his hands on his hips

"Well what about her contract? She sighed one didn't she? Surely she should honor that?" Lauren and Tomasz shared a look.

"Yes but two things one imagine forcing her to play a role she no longer wants...Could be very awkward and two the contract had dates...We couldn't stick to the them so she managed to wriggle out of it." They each huffed Henry spoke up

"Can't we put it on hold for a few weeks rush through the casti-" he trailed off at Tomasz' severe look and shake of his head.

"No we aren't being given an extension we have to find someone...Preferably here on set so we don't have to navigate the covid travel restrictions, we can't afford two weeks quarantine for whoever it is we bring in" Tee looked up to her bosses.

"So?...You need someone on set to take the role? I suppose they can't be a major part of the crew?" Lauren nodded to her and smiled

"You up for it?" Tee shook her head

"Fuck no but there is someone that could do it...Y/n shes a general assistant, the one you like! the one that picked up the wardrobe the other day when the truck couldn't get up the hill" Lauren's face lit up as she put a face to the name

"Oh! lilac bob? Green eyes?" Tee smiled nodding

"Yeah! Her she isn't to busy really just runs errands, shes an extra pair of hands" Tomasz tilted his head it sounded viable, it would be a god send he crossed his arms.

"But she would have what a week? To read up on the character, learn lines and go through costume...It would be a hectic rush would she agree to it?" Tee smiled knowingly

"Yes..She hasn't done acting before...well not properly she had a part in bugsy malone play at primary school but that was about it...But I have no doubt that she would do it she loves the witcher. As for reading up on the character you don't have to worry I dread to think how many times shes re-read those books and played the games...She even based her gcse textiles project on the witcher making a screen print tapestry! Trust me she will know Keira metz' personality so half of the job is already done!" Tomasz nodded secretly getting excited over the prospect of having another fan in the mix,  yet he covered it well not wanting to get anyone’s hopes to high."Okay call her in get her to read some lines...Lets not tell her what its for first see if theres some chemistry between the three of you first then go from there" they all nodded it was the best way to go about it.

When you got to the tent you instantly knew something was up. First person you noticed was your best friends Tee it was her who'd got you the job here. She had been working on the first season and was one of the directing assistants she was always around the producers and directors making sure everything was running smoothly and when they top dogs changed things it was her who made those changes get through the grape vine to everyone who needed to know. Then you noticed Henry  and Joey were here ,how you didn't see them first is a mystery as they were both fully kitted out in the characters costumes.

Holy shit! He was so fucking hot! So so fucking yummy you wanted to jump him and run away and hide at the same time 'Okay breath don't fucking squeal bitch be cool that's it calm down don't make it obvious you want to hump his leg!...If he offers though ride tat thigh like a fucking pony!...No! Stop your going red! Calm it! There we go...Nice and calm well done give yourself a pat on the back' and breath.

You took a calming breath after your little pep talk the fan-girl locked up tight inside you relaxed slightly. Could you help it? No Henry is like your celebrity crush and has been since your little virgin eyes saw him fucking on Tudors. You'd seen him around set obviously you can't really ignore the huge man in the silver wig. You’d wanted to get his autograph and a photo but couldn't trust yourself not to do something stupid so you kept your distance. But damn he was much finer up close in person. You gulped just praying to god you did not squeak at him you'd never ever live it down.

Everyone looked on edge even the director Tomasz and producer Lauren? none of them noticed your arrival speaking in hushed tones to one another like they didn't want anyone to overhear what was happening. You cleared your throat placing a hand on one of the metal supports by the entrance of the tent unsure if you should enter with them all looking so serious you didn't want to hear anything you shouldn't.

"Err knock knock? you wanted to see me? If its a bad time I can come back..." they jumped a little obviously caught up in their conversation. You shrunk under everyone's gaze as the sets of heavy eyes rested on you.

Henry's eyes widened a little at you he swallowed dryly peering at you from his spot in the tent. You were beautiful he suddenly found himself hoping you would be the one to take the role. Not only could he then have a reason to be around you without you running off. But there were sex scene between the two characters and as ashamed as he felt he had already spent a considerable amount of time envisioning just that, alone at night in his trailer with nothing but his fist to ease his needs. He couldn't help it he had never spoke to you but he wanted you. So selfish or not he would thoroughly enjoy enacting those particular scenes, the image of you below him was just to much.

Joey prodded him slightly making him snap his gaze away and turn to the 'bard' He raised his brows at him nodding to the lilac haired woman as if to say 'look who it is?' Henry flushed a little and blinked yes Joey knew.

It started when Henry had seen you around set, capturing glimpses of you he had wanted to go and talk to you. Each time he saw you around he would excuse himself from whatever he was doing and turn to make his way over to you. But every time he turned and took a step in your direction you flushed and bolted.

He did like you. He liked very much. He found out you were an assistant someone to run errands and Tee had got you the job he was meant to ask her about you but you both seemed close. What if Tee told you? What would you think if you found out he had been asking about you?. So no instead he bit his tongue and kept trying to catch you out and have a chat. He couldn't put his finger on it you just appealed to him, you looked sweet and sexy all in one.

He wanted so desperately to talk to you but you seemed scared of him for some reason so he in the end he settled for admiring you from afar. He'd never got more than six feet near you and that six feet was close enough to make him swoon. You had been diligently taking coffee orders around the set and was taking a list from the directors tent and he was waiting to speak to Tomasz and Lauren queuing behind you in a sense one person separated you.

You were so caught up in trying to take names and coffee orders you hadn't noticed him hovering behind you. He had leaned to the side taking full advantage enjoying eyeing your behind admiring the taught cheeks hugged by your zebra print workout leggings, you must have been in a thong because they snuck up your ass a little making him groan. He'd give anything to be up there himself! He sighed smoothing his hands over his face trying to push away the teasing thoughts, it was not the time to imagine drilling your perfect little ass, fucking you roughly on all fours until your little body sucked the cum out of his balls and he left you with a fully stretched freshly fuck little pucker.

No it was not the time, not when he had another few scenes to shoot. But they were just there! Teasing him a few quick shuffles of his feet and he could be right behind you, he could accidentally graze your pert full bottom. But no he held himself back he groaned when the wind changed and caught a scent of your hair mango and passion fruit.

He had been on a high all day after that. That’s when Joey was certain Henry was getting a little crush on the lilac haired beauty that had gained the nick name Tink's. To Joey you looked like a real life colorful little fairy and he had named you after Tinkerbell. Henry bit his lip trying to contain his excitement, as you cleared your throat nervously today was going from really really bad to absolutely fucking incredible.

You eyed Henry carefully he was..staring well until Joey prodded him then he snapped out of whatever it was flushing. You didn't have much time to consider it as Lauren moved waving you over smiling like nothing was wrong. Okay? Weird.

"No no! Come in your just the woman we needed to see." You walked in slowly still uneasy but managed to cross the threshold. There was a pause and they looked like they were appraising you? What the fuck? Tomasz cleared his throat and nodded giving Lauren the go ahead for something apparently.

"Y/n I was hopeing you could go over some lines with these two, they haven't got anyone to practice with and we really need to start getting rehearsals in. Flights are running few and far between so the actress who was supposed to be here last week, can't get here until we are actually filming the scenes!" You blinked huh? Read lines? You began going shy and shaking your head

"I don't-" but before you could get anymore words out Tomasz spoke up.

"And with covid setting us back we can't afford delays we could be cancelled" you froze at that...Cancelled? You looked to Henry and Joey who both gave hopeful puppy eyes you sighed a shaky breath.

"O-okay I suppose I could...Help out... It is what I'm here for.." You missed the looks all four shared as Joey handed you a sheet from the script. You skimmed it as quick as you could and your face instantly lit up with a bright smile.

"Holy shit keira? I didn't realize you were doing that-" quickly realizing you may have been fangirling you shut up. Tomasz head lifted smiling

"You know the character?" You chuckled nervously well aware of The witcher still eyeing you from the side. Joey smirked at him and gave a chuckle making Henry freeze and look away flustered. You hesitated whilst talking to Tomasz.

"Hehe well Yeah sort of....I know the book's and the games sooo yeah..Sorry...Got excited there..Can't help it" he grinned shaking his head.

"No no its perfectly fine...I do always love seeing people et excited over our work! But you know her so can help the guys immensely. If you could try and portray the character that would help a lot as well, so we can see how these lines and dynamics will work" you blinked looking at the page going blank. Try to in act the scene to? Okay keira what do you remember shes...Playful catty and a little manipulative.Petty but confident yet can switch to cold bitch on a dime. Your not sure our up to the task.

"So? You want me to try and act properly? but...But bare in mind I'm not an actress...Never done any acting or anything so if I'm shit I apologize."

"Its fine, just try your best...We don't want a carbon copy of the games we want a believable character, just create your own Keira for the time being as I said we just want that feeling for the scene and the relationship that's all. If you could read from half way down..'Seriously I mean this is it?' Okay? don't mind the blank we just haven't settled on the last few bits of dialog just keep going...Go with the flow as it were" you nodded taking a breath really out of your comfort  zone  but it literally  said 'help when needed' in your job description so you didn't have much choice. You took a peek at the lines it the scene was based around the camp at night.

Henry and Joey sat on stools you followed their lead really nervous trying not to steal glances or stare at the witcher before you even if he didn't seem to care himself, his gold eyes not leaving you for a second, he wasn't even blinking.

You pulled at the page slightly forcing back the anxiety but sucked it up when were you ever going to get the chance to do this again. To read lines with your crush on set in full delicious Witcher get up.You decided to throw caution to the wind and give it your all if you looked a tit well atleast you had fun and you'd never have to again!

You gulped you were supposed to start. You took a breath and pulled some confidence out of your ass, she was a fierce woman that was almost childlike. You used a sarcastic un-amused flat tone.

"Seriously....I mean this is it? this is the great adventuring? Wandering the continent aimlessly for contract's that may or may not be actual monsters..." you tilted your head to the side blinking slowly as you looked between Henry and Joey. Both seemed to be caught unaware as you transformed from a frightened quivering ball of nerves to a catty confidant sorceress.

Henry smiled cheekily at you  knowing that with that transformation you'd already bagged the role, you were his keira.

"Well you are welcome to return to your healing house" Henry drolled in Geralt's deep voice sounding unimpressed tilting his head at you slightly with a bored expression. Joey hummed.

"Yes I second that witch you don't have to be here you can just go your own way" he waved his hand near you and you leaned in giving him a wicked warning grin making him pull back and lean towards Henry, a typical Jaskier move...Well for the moment he was Jaskier.

"G-go and curse children poison or cattle or whatever it is you do" you scoffed rolling your eyes pulling back a little and tilted your head looking at Henry.

"Geralt your Jester appears to be in a foul mood would you like me to help? I'm sure I have a remedy that can silence him for a while...Permanently if you'd like" you smirked as Joey snpped his head looking between the two worriedly.

"JESTER I-YOU I am a bard! And I have made Geralt here the famed white wolf! Tell her Geralt! " Henry rolled his eyes ignoring Joey's out burst

"The Jester is right you don't have to travel with us you can leave, return home if our adventures aren't exciting enough for you. And I'd warn you keep the potions to yourself"  you paused the page was now empty. You too a breath and spoke anyway.

"What? Me leave? and go back to treating the lords son and his frequent bouts of cock rot..." the two men bite back a laugh managing to stay in character...Just. You blinked leaning forward placing your face on your palm

"That’s not as thrilling as one might think loses its charm on the third and forth round...Much like the boy himself" Joey sputtered trying to hide his giggles. But contained himself to make an insulting Jaskier quip.

"Cock rot...begs the question do you cause it or cure it?" he twitched waiting for your reply. You hissed at him then calmed yourself and fluttered your eyes at him and continued in a sultry tone.

"Your welcome to find out for yourself Jester" he stuttered going red

"I-i a no hah thank you for the offer but noooo...Had enough of witches for a life time.. Thank you very much!" he said almost choking on his words you leaned back huffing

"Hmm...Shame you almost look like fun could have livened up the trip...I do always enjoy the loud ones..." Joey chuckled and looked to Henry with a face saying 'help me out here buddy' Henry was finding it very hard to keep himself together, was he jealous of you flirting with joey? Yes did he want to turn the tables? Yes could he think of a way to do it? Fuck no.

He settled for shaking his head, he was certain you had the role already and if not he was definitely going to vouch for you,you were good and portrayed Keira well enough to make Joey's Jaskier fidget which Keira did.

"I'm sure you can find fun where ever you find yourself Keira" Henry piped in wanting to see where the scene can go, wanting for you to give him your sultry voice and flirt with him. But you stuttered a little his gaze was intense hot and hooded.

"Y-yes you'd think that!..But there is no fun to be had at home anymore!...Well that's not strictly true there is this one acquaintance a deaf eunuch " Henry spoke up needing to hear the end of this one, trying to fight off his disappointment that you hadn't given him the same treatment as Joey, didn't you like him? Was Joey more your type? No there must be more to it.

"And this deaf eunuch is fun? How so?" you wiggled your eyebrows at him

"Well Witcher he only had one way to show me his gratitude...Any man who only has his hands to speak develops a very....dexterous set of fingers~" Joey slipped out of character confused as Henry burst out laughing. Despite his sour feelings over your non-flirting he couldn't deny that was a funny and well thought out bit of improv.

"Deaf eunuch? F-fingers?..I don't get it-OOHHH!HOLY SHIT YOU DIDN'T! OHH OH MY FUCK" he then started roaring with laughter with Henry making you go shy blushing.

"Oh my god yes...She is definitely the one we need...Defiantly my Keira!" Henry wheezed through his laughter leaning over slapping his knee.

"huh what?" You looked between everyone what do the mean need? It was Tomasz was nodding smiling and spoke up clarifying what Henry had meant.

"That was....Well...It was an audition and you got the part. You became the character very easily it was natural and flowed nicely and you were nervous once relaxed you will make a perfect Keira!" you blinked at him. An audition? For a part in the show "Are you having a laugh? I can't act for shit...Like that was...It was err" Henry smirked lifting a brow

"Acting? Maybe?" You  blushed at him as he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. You leaned back sitting upright then pulled a face. He was right technically.

"Okay it was kind of acting....But why are you doing this here now? Surely you already have someone? this don't strike me as normal." Lauren sighed

"No your right its not normal...The actress who was playing Keira has pulled out we have a week to find a replacement or will are probably getting cancelled they won't let us delay again" you sat up pin straight

"Wait what? An actress bailed on us last minuet...That’s a bit of a dick move... That's like a big dick move not in a nice big dick way either... Like a dick dick move" Henry and Joey snorted at your statement and Tee creased up. Tomasz moved over to you

"I'm afraid so...I know its a big ask but were were supposed to start filming her scenes the middle of next week and we need a replacement. Fast. Sooo what would you say to stepping in and saving the day? you fit the bill and your here now and from what I've just seen you can do it...You gave her a cheeky, petty vibe which in all honesty was missing from who we selected...We can get you ready I'm sure Henry and Joey can help you, teach you the tricks of the trade so to speak" he lifted his head to the both of them. They nodded Henry speaking up

"I can even mentor you if you want, to get you more comfortable... Me and Joey will look after you I promise" you gulped then looked back to Lauren and Tomasz. You'd never even thought of acting or anything and it was daunting prospect.

"Look...We have run into a problem that could potentially bring production and filming to a halt...Something that could cancel season two completely....But you can help us. We can continue as planned but we understand its a big thing to spring on someone .We can afford to give you a few days to think it over if you need to..." you took a breath it sounded incredible,  like one of those talent scout tales...Could you do it? You didn't want to see the show go down the pan you loved the first season as a viewer and was over the moon when Tee got you the job onset. You loved the witcher as a whole...Maybe helping bring it to life could be fun? A lot of work and you didn't know shit but you could give it a go. But then you’d be working close with Henry who pretty much turned you into a fucking trembling mass of girly hormones "...But I'm not an actress...I doubt I'd be any good.." Tee snorted

"Fuck off 'not an actress', acting is a big expensive game of pretend! And no offense but you've been pretending to be an adult since we left school! You've got this besides everyone will know your situation so if things go pear-shaped or you get confused we can all help sort you out, we wont scream at you over it..." she moved standing between Joey and Henry squishing their faces

"Come on loooook! Look at there poor little faces! Don’t let Jaskier and Geralt die! If we get cancelled that’s what will happen! These charters will die! I will take them out back and shoot them myself! Never to be seen again!" You giggled at her antic as both men in her grasp tried their hardest to pout up at you with there scrunched up faces. You sighed you were gonna regret this.

"Okay okay fine I will try... But don't say I didn't warn you.." everyone took a deep breath relived. Henry and Joey shared a grin now super excited to carry on with the show. Henry more so then Joey he was ecstatic! He can't wait to start getting close to you.

Lauren moved over to you with some long ass looking scripts.

"Here...These are for you! Start reading through these today...Do one episode at a time for now you'd have more chance learning the lines and you need to go to costume.  Tee could you tell them whats happened and get her over there today? let them measure her up luckily it's mostly lace up so shouldn't have to change much" Henry stood up quickly making you jump.

"I will take her and introduce her to everyone...I’m finished for the day so I’m going there anyway" he explained a little sheepish realizing he may have seemed eager. Joey chuckled at him Standing beside him patting the mans back Tomasz shook his head

"Thank you for the offer Henry but we still need you were going to re shoot one of the scenes again, we think there is a better angle we could get" Henry pouted chest deflating a little and nodded to the director

"Right so Tee you escort her , oh where are you staying by the way? In the hotel in town? Well we will need to move you into Keira’s trailer so you'd be onset. Tee could you show her the trailer first then wardrobe and then finally I will pop over with a contract for you this afternoon..." you froze. Contract?. What the fuck? You don't know anything about contracts! Henry caught on to your panic and lit up like Christmas finding another way he could spend time with you.

"Hey its okay...Just a bit of paper saying you've got the job and a bit of legal jargon...I can look over it with you and have my agent look over it if you want? just to be sure everything's good okay? don't worry we will take good care of you I promised didn't I?" You smiled shyly and nodded. 'Holy shit he's looking at you, speak girl stop fucking staring! SPEAK! BREATH!' You took a breath avoiding his gaze a little trying to forget who he was wanting to act cool when you did finally speak it was in a quiet voice.

"I-I Suppose so...I mean yes I'd appreciate someone sorting that out..I get the feeling there are a lot of big words involved" Joey laughed you liked Henry, he could see it and something told him you would both become very close. Well close he estimated you'd be fucking within two weeks. He noted the fact you had both gone quiet Henry's eyes boring into you again as you fiddled with script in your hand. He rolled his eyes you were blushing squirming under the witchers staring gold orbs and he didn't seem to care he was just quite happy to gawk at you. Joey finally decided to cut you so e slack.

"Your not kidding...But like Henry said nothing to bad just a you got the job! And how your being paid really" you chuckled rubbing your neck.

"Fuck! haha you know I didn't even think of that" Tomasz chuckled and nodded. Breaking his silence, he to had noticed the tension between the two of you but would say nothing it wont be a problem after all there was a sexual atmosphere between Geralt and Keira so it would do well on screen.

"Well your an actress now, so of course you'll be paid as an actress, it will be in the paper work, I suggest you go and start reading the scripts Keira is heavily involved in this season she is travelling with Geralt and Jaskier for a while... And a word of advice I'm going to have to take your name to a few higher ups with the video of your audition and names on official websites for the cast will be changed, probably in a day or two...You may want to go and clean up any social media ect that you might have...It could blow up a little bit its...What we are doing is pretty much unheard of" you frowned at him

"You...You filmed that? What? who?" Tee waved her phone up at you gaining your attention.

"Its fine y/n just need it for the records and for a few others to see..." she turned to Lauren

"Might be an idea to put this up somewhere to just to introduce her as the character..." Lauren shook her head

"Not yet get her in costume then a few photos we can film a short teaser scene with them...That can be her debut" Tee nodded and began making a list of things to do then snapped her head up looking at you.

"Seriously change your face book to friends only...And get a fucking twitter on that thought get a bloody snapchat and Instagram to! Okay? life will be easier trust me on this" Henry frowned at you stumped.

"You don't have twitter, Snapchat or Instagram?....No what? How have you? What do you do all day on your phone?" You shrugged and smiled impishly at him.

"I read...Write...Scroll tumblr for hours on end and play games...Never bothered with that social media crap don't know how to use it...Was on tumblr for years before I ever got the courage to post something" Joey smiled taking a step forward and patted your back

"Well at least you have Tumblr which I will want by the way! But never mind about the others I will show you cos your gonna need it!" You smiled at him giggling maybe this wont be so bad? You nodded at him feeling more at ease, it sounded like they were going to help you with all this shit, the only thing you had to do was keep the inner Cavill fangirl at bay, which was gonna be a hell of a job now that you weren't going to be able to avoid him but it was that or watch this show be cancelled and that was not going to happen!. You looked over to Lauren who was still giving Tee a list of jobs and people to contact.

"Okay...So where do I start?" She smiled and quickly stood in front of you as you stood between Joey and Henry both pointing out on the scripts certain things explaining what things meant and how things would work when filming. You nodded trying to take it all in. You took a breath looks like you were doing this.  

[svnflowervol666]

Hiii I just read all your writings and I LOVED THEM 💖💖 So can you write a lil blurb where it's Y/N's birthday and he does some cute shit for her

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: tiny mention of smut (at the end)

Author’s Note: I absolutely ADORED writing this one. Thank you so much! Requests are open, so drop an idea into my inbox if you’ve got one! Take care and tpwk.

Just as she was finishing up her makeup in the bathroom before work, an unflattering photo of her longtime boyfriend wearing a bright green face mask illuminated her phone screen, signifying that he was trying to facetime with her. The photo always made her laugh no matter how hard her day had been, so she’d set it as his contact photo.

“Hello my beautiful boy,” Y/N sang when the call adjusted and she could finally see Harry’s face smiling at her from ear to ear.

“And hello to you too, my beautiful birthday girl!” Harry exclaimed right back.

Much to his protest, Harry had ended up smack dab in the middle of a North American tour on his girlfriend’s birthday. He’d tried his hardest to schedule a break in between today so he would be able to spend some time with her on her special day, but it didn’t end up working out and both Harry and Y/N were fairly bummed about it. 

“Thank you, love,” she grinned into the camera, making Harry’s heart soar. 

“Ye’ getting ready f’ work?”

“Unfortunately,” Y/N faked a pout, “Should be an easy day, though. What about you?”

“Just got back to m’ hotel room. Show tonight was great. I wish you could’ve gotten off work to hop on tour for a few days.”

“You know how my boss is,” Y/N sounded somewhat sad and it made Harry’s chest feel tight knowing how badly she had wanted to come visit him.

“Hmm,” Harry pondered, “’M starting t’ think she’s got a crush on me n’ that’s why she never gives you any days off.”

This made a laugh blossom from deep in Y/N’s belly.

“Everyone’s got a crush on you, bubby.”

“Too bad I’ve only got eyes f’ you. Anyways,” Harry quickly moved on to the next subject.

“I’ve called you to tell you where I’ve hidden your birthday present.”

“Harry,” Y/N scolded him, “I told you not to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well, ye’ know I wasn’t gonna listen. Love spoilin’ ya. It’s in the back of my underwear drawer. Should be a little velvet box.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry to which he blew her a cheeky kiss through the screen in response. She grabbed her phone while she traveled from the bathroom into their bedroom and began riffling through Harry’s intimates drawer. 

“Quick question, H. Why your underwear drawer?”

All Harry could see of Y/N was her forehead while her fingers moved past his folded up boxers and dug for the small gift.

“It’s the only thing of mine you don’t steal. Figured it’d be least likely t’ be found if I kept it in there when I left.”

“Touche, my love. Alright, I’ve got it. Want me to open it now?”

“It would kinda make sense to, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re such a smartass.”

“You love me anyway.”

She chuckled as she propped her cell phone up against her bedside lamp so Harry could see her reaction when she found out what was inside. When she removed the small metallic bow that was placed on top, she lifted the lid and her expression turned into one of confusion and uncertainty.

“Is this the ring that you lost a few months ago?”

Indeed, it was. It was Y/N’s favorite out of the hefty collection of rings that Harry hoarded. Sometimes, Harry would let her pick out which rings he wore and her eyes always landed on that one. She was never able to give him a reason other than she was simply drawn to it; the way it danced in the sunlight when his hand stuck out from the covers in the morning, the way it accentuated his perfect, long fingers. 

Or perhaps, there was a reason why she loved it so much. This ring in particular was one that Harry had purchased from a local jewler when they were on a holiday in Greece. That very same night, Harry had gotten wine-drunk (more like wine-wasted) and had confessed a secret to her. 

“You know something, Y/n?” he drunkenly babbled whilst wagged his finger adorned with his new ring in her face, “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

She’d never bring the memory back up to Harry, however she was never able to forget that night or his ring waving itself right in front of his face. It was just another one of those moments where she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harry was the one for her. Knowing this, one could have seen why Y/N had gotten rather upset when Harry had revealed to her that he had “misplaced it” and had no earthly idea where it had gone. Unbeknownst to her, Harry hadn’t actually lost it at all.

“It is. I didn’t actually lose it. I know ye’ love it, so I had it sized down to fit your finger. Do ye’ like it?”

“I love it. Thank you, Harry.”

Y/N felt her eyes instinctively well up with tears. She hadn’t told Harry, but she always had a hard time whenever he was gone for prolonged periods of time. The bed was always cold, her meals didn’t taste as good, and there was no one there to hold her when her day went less than ideal. Knowing how much thought went into a gift like this only widened the hole in her heart that appeared every time Harry left for tour.

“Aww, don’t cry, lovie. Not on your birthday.”

Y/N gently wiped the corners of her eyes and shook her head, “I’m good. Promise. Just miss you a lot is all.”

“Miss you too, baby. I wish I wasn’t so far away from ye’.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, right? I’ll survive,” Y/N stood up from where she was sat on the bed and straightened out her blouse before picking the phone up from the nightstand, “Guess I should probably head out now.”

“Alright,” Harry reassured her with a wrinkle in his brow. 

He absolutely hated knowing that his girl was upset. Not only because it was her birthday, a day that was all about celebrating her, but because he was on another continent and couldn’t be there to soothe her.

“I’ll call you again tonight. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Have a good day, Y/N,” Harry said sincerely.

“I’ll try.”

They exchanged one last loving look before Y/N ended the call and left the house she shared with Harry to go to work.

Her day wasn’t half as bad as she’d envisioned it to be. Upon arrival, her coworkers greeted her with her favorite coffee and donuts accompanied by a plethora of multi-colored balloons tossed about the office space. Everyone was extra nice to her and offered to take on some of her paperwork for her, which she certainly didn’t mind. Around lunchtime, she received a massive delivery of canary yellow sunflowers from the one and only, Harry Styles. Attached to the bouquet was a simple note card that read, For my sunflower on her special day. -H. This earned her a series of hoots and hollers from the other employees at the office (and she almost swears a scolding look from her boss), which she promptly brushed off and continued on working.

On the long drive home, she’d chatted with her small, close group of friends about the outing they had planned for her that weekend. It was mostly about the bars they had planned on going to and about how wasted they knew they were going to be, but even the playful banter in between them couldn’t manage to pull Y/N out of the funk she was in. Sure, she could put on a happy face and act like she enjoyed the attention she was receiving for her birthday, but none of it really meant much when the one person she cared about most wasn’t there to celebrate with her.

When she opened the front door she was hit by the overwhelming scent of aromatics coming from her kitchen. She hadn’t cooked anything this smelly in at least a few days and she certainly didn’t recall smelling it on her way out the door this morning, so her senses were on high alert. Her finger hovered over the emergency button on her cell phone as she rounded the corner, only to be greeted by a tall, curly-headed man-child boiling pasta in his periwinkle-colored bathrobe.

“Harry?!”

“Fuck,” he cursed aloud, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early. I thought I’d have it all done before you got here.”

Typical Harry. The boy’s got big ideas, but his ability to pull them off seldom comes to fruition.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come kiss me, stupid.”

Harry took a few long strides over to his girlfriend and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug and kiss, one that left her breathless and feeling full of love. His lips worked passionately against her own and the tip of his tongue prodded at her bottom lip, just the way that he knew she liked. When he pulled back from holding her mouth against his, he saw that she was really crying this time, unable to stop the flow of salty tears from running down her cheekbones and down her chin.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked Harry as he wiped her tears with the pads of this thumb. “I thought you had a show tonight.”

“You see, Y/N. Time zones can be a beautiful thing. I found out I could make it here with a few hours t’ spare before my next show, so I hopped on a plane right after I got off the phone w’ you.”

“You didn’t have to do this, Harry.”

“But I wanted to. Hated seeing you upset this mornin’.”

He noticed she was twiddling the ring he’d gifted her this morning around her finger, to which he raised her hand and inspected it with his own eyes instead of through his phone screen.

“Looks good on you, dunnit?”

Y/N nodded her head, still unable to comprehend that her boyfriend had flown across the globe to see her on her birthday. There weren’t many people on this earth like Harry, and she had never felt happier to know that she had the privilege of being loved by one.

“I love it, H. I really do. Thank you. For all of this.”

She moved her hand away from Harry’s face to kiss his lips once more.

“How long are you staying?” she continued.

Harry sighed, “’ve got to leave at 2am to make it to the show on time.”

“That’s alright. Any time is better than no time.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with his love, “So why don’t ye’ go upstairs and change while I finish cookin’ so we can make the most of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” she pulled him in for a third kiss before reluctantly leaving Harry’s side to take off her uncomfortable work clothes.

Just as she ascended the steps that led to their bedroom, she heard Harry call out.

“Actually, don’t bother! It’s not like you’ll have your clothes on for very long anyway!”

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

More - Harry Styles One Shot

Request: Harry and Reader meet at a wedding. 

**

Ah, weddings. At your age it seems like you’re getting invited to a wedding at least multiple times of year. Whether it be close friends, people you work with, or other family members. Of course, due to your career, it’s hard to go to all of them especially when you’re on tour. However, thanks to having the last year or so off in terms of traveling, and working on your next album, you were able to attend one of your closest friends wedding. 

One, you just happened to be a bridesmaid in, might you add. When you were asked to be a bridesmaid, the first thought that came to your mind was a hideous dress standing in front of hundreds of people while your two friends declare their love for one another. But luckily, the dress was not hideous and you didn’t have to stand in front of everyone. The two wanted their moment and you couldn’t be happier. 

Even though you got on stage in front of thousands most days of your life the past few years, didn't mean you liked being in front of people. Anyway, the ceremony was beautiful and you cried a bit. Thankful for waterproof eye makeup. Now, it was time for the reception after way too many group photos. 

You were starving and wanted a nice little cocktail to down the food with. After getting your food, you sat down with the other bridesmaids and quickly started eating. You happened to look up, around the room, seeing others enjoying their dinner, drinks, and a few on the dance floor. 

However, despite all of the people around, you just so happened to land your eyes on someone you hadn’t seen in quite a long time. It was complicated, really. He could technically be your ex, but the two of you were never officially together. If you had to put a label on it, you would have been friends with benefits, fuck buddies, hookup partners, etc, etc. 

You two started out as friends, meeting at an industry party since you were on the same label and management team. Then one night out with friends ended up in a bit of slightly drunken hookup that then turned into hooking up over the next couple of months into years. It wasn’t a constant thing and it wasn’t like it’s happened a ton of times, but definitely more than 10, but less than 25. 

It was one of those things when both of you were single, wanted to be with someone, but you didn’t want to just hook up with someone you didn’t know. And it wasn’t like it was always about sex either. In fact, most of the times you two spent together was just being friends. You would watch movies, have dinner, go shopping or hiking, etc. The sex would come in eventually, but it wasn’t strictly for that. 

But then, he met someone, to into a relationship, and eventually you did too. You both were also touring around the globe and didn’t really speak all that often. Even after both of you experienced a break up, neither of you really saw the other. 

You weren’t sure if it was because it may have made things awkward or if because the other may have expected to get back into what you used to have. Despite all of that, you couldn’t help, but feel a little giddy about seeing him. Your food long forgotten after stuffing a few more bites into your mouth and you started over towards him. 

**

As soon as Harry saw you, he wanted to walk over to you. He knew you would be there, seeing as how the two of you were friends with the two getting married. You looked beautiful in your dress and the way your hair was perfectly styled on your head. When he caught eyes with you at your table, his lips broke into a smile. He gave you a small nod and gestured with his hand saying hello. 

A few moments later, he saw you getting up from your seat and he knew it was to come speak with him. He quickly excused himself from the circle of people he had been chatting with to meet you halfway. 

“Long time no see, huh?” You smirked. 

He laughed, “I could say the same thing about you,” he smiled. “You look beautiful. Oh and fabulous job on not falling down the aisle,” he added with a smirk. 

“Well, thank you,” you laughed. “And yes, the whole time I was praying to just make it to my spot without tripping.” 

He laughed running his hand through his hair a bit. 

“You look good too,” you smiled. “Very handsome in your suit,” you smiled smoothing out his collar. 

“Thank you,” he smiled. 

There were a few moments of silence, when you looked back over at him, “Come with me,” you said. 

“Where, exactly?” He laughed. 

“Just, somewhere that isn’t super loud to talk,” you said holding out your hand. 

“Okay,” he smiled taking your hand and following your lead. 

The wedding had been outside, so there were still chairs and places to be while everyone else was inside for the reception. You had walked over to a little place with a bench to sit down. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He asked. 

“I wanted to tell you I was sorry about not reaching out after you and uh.. her broke up,” you said. 

“Oh, it’s fine, you didn’t have to do that anyway,” he said. 

“No, but I did, we were friends... are friends... I don’t know.. I guess I just didn’t really know what to say, so I just said nothing,” you said. 

“Well, I mean, to be honest, it was probably good that you didn't,” he said. 

“Oh, why?” You asked. 

“Y/N, I know you didn’t like her,” he said. “If you would have reached out then, I may have taken as you saying I told you so or something,” he shrugged. 

“It was that obvious, huh?” You laughed awkwardly. 

“A bit yeah,” he laughed. “She didn’t like you either, we actually argued a lot about you.” 

“Seriously?” You scoffed. 

“Yeah, it was mostly because of our.. uh history,” he coughed. “She didn’t like that I still talked to you knowing that we used to... you know.” 

“Fuck?” You interjected. 

“Exactly,” he laughed. 

“Well, I guess I could kind of see why that might bother her,” you nodded. 

“Yeah, it made sense and I understood her side of things, but I told her we were friends before we even-” he said. 

“Do you think us hooking up was a mistake?” You whispered. 

“What? No, why do you?” You asked. 

“I don’t know,” you said. “At the time, no, but I mean... afterward... we drifted apart... if I would have known I would lose my friendship with you, I don’t know if it would have been worth it, you know?” 

“Hey,” he said taking your hand in his. “You didn’t lose me. I’m right here. We may have gotten of course a bit, but I’m still here, always.” 

You smiled lacing your fingers with his, “Are you seeing anyone now?” 

“Not really,” he said. “I went through a lot of shit after the break up and I channeled all I had into my album. I haven’t really thought about dating anyone. What about you?” 

“Yeah, no,” you said. “I’ve sort of been doing the same thing on my own end.” 

Both of you sat there for a moment, hands still laced together, before you turned to look at him. 

“Look at me,” you whispered. 

He turned his head to look up at you, confusion evident on his face. You leaned forward just a few inches towards him, instinctively he does the same towards you. 

“Can I kiss you?” You whispered. 

“I-are you sure?” He asked. 

“Only if you’re okay with it,” you whispered. 

“I’m more than okay with it,” he whispered. 

Your lips form a smile before you press them against his. 

About ten minutes later, the two of you were hidden away and slamming the door shut on a spare room in the venue. As soon as you heard the sound of the lock click, you pulled Harry towards you be the collar of his suit jacket. His hands wrapped around your waist, puling you against him as he deepened the kiss. 

“I will say I did not envision this happening during the wedding,” he laughed against your lips. 

“Really?” You smirked. “Pretty sure, I did.” 

You pushed his jacket down his shoulders and quickly started unbuttoning the remainder of the buttons. He laughed helping you remove his shirt before reaching for the zipper of your dress. 

“We don’t have time for that,” you said pushing his hand away. 

“But I want to see you,” he groaned putting his forehead against your shoulder. 

“Then I guess we’ll just have to have a round two later,” you said. 

“Have I ever told you I love the way you think?” He said pressing you against the wall. 

“Not lately,” you said pulling the hem of your dress up. “Now, shut up and fuck me.” 

“With pleasure,” he smirked pressing his lips against yours. 

**

Later that night, you were laying in his bed, naked with nothing but his arms and the sheets wrapped around you. After your little rendezvous back at the venue and making an awkward return to the reception for a few more hours, you ended up back at his place. 

Your dress was a crumpled mess on his floor next to his suit. His fingers were gently running over your skin as he stared at you. 

“Can I ask you something?” He whispered looking at you. 

“You can ask me anything,” you smiled moving hair from his face. 

“Was this... is this just about sex..,” he asked after taking a short pause. 

“What? Tonight?” You asked. 

He nodded, “Did you only come over to me and talk to me because you wanted to fuck?” 

“Harry, you should no be better than that,” you said. “It’s never been just about the sex with you. Why are you asking that?” 

“Because if it’s never been just about sex, then why is it that we can’t be more?” He asked. 

“Wait, what?” You asked sitting up. 

“Damn it,” he sighed sitting up beside you. “I like you, Y/N. I’ve always had feelings for you. I’ve always wanted more with you. That is why me and her got in arguments about you because she could tell I felt something for you. I denied them because I was with her and I wanted it to work with us because you were with someone else. The reason I was a mess after we broke up is because I realized that I was in love with you and the odds of you feeling the same way were slim to none especially since you were in a relationship with someone else.”

“But you... you got with her before I -” you said. 

“Because you made it clear that you and I would never be more than just friends who fuck on occasion. I took that as a sign that you didn’t feel anything for me, so I thought it was best if I tried to move on,” he said. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” You asked. 

“It’s hard to the person who have feelings for how you feel when they are constantly treating you and calling you a friend without showing any sort of feelings back,” he said. “I was afraid if I said anything and you told me you didn’t feel the same way then that would ruined our friendship.” 

You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but to start laughing as you laid back on the bed. 

“Did I miss something here or are you laughing at me for telling you how I feel?” He asked. 

“I’m laughing because I realized how I felt about when I learned that you were dating her. I guess... when we were doing our “arrangement” it felt natural, that I didn’t think we needed a label for it. I thought about actually telling you how I felt, but then you went out with her and the next thing I knew she was your girlfriend. I was hurt and jealous, which is one of the reasons why I didn’t like her,” you said. “But yet... had I told you anyway, we could have been together this whole fucking time. Communication really is key, huh?” 

Harry laid back down next to you, “Sooo...” 

“Soooo... what?” You giggled looking over at him. 

“Since we’re communicating now, how about we finally tell each other how we feel and put a label on it,” he whispered. 

“Weeeellll, if you must know,” you smiled. “I’m in love with you, Styles. I don't want you to be with anyone else because you have my heart. You always have and you probably always will.” 

Smiling ear to ear looking over at you, “And I’m in love with you. You have my heart.  Every piece of it is yours. And I don’t want you with anyone else either because you’re my baby, my love... my girlfriend?” He asked looking at you with a blush on cheek. 

“Hmm... I might have to think about it,” you said. 

“Y/N,” he groaned. 

‘Sorry, sorry,” you giggled. “All thought over and of course. Like.. you didn’t even have to ask,” you joked. 

He laughed shaking his head before pulling you over for a kiss and perhaps a little celebratory round before finally falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

[mrsparkjimin18]

Part 1: Isabella the Prodigy

From a young age her mother taught her the different levels of mathematics, insisting that the most important puzzle in life was keeping the numbers together. That mathematics could solve any problem, and that she must never forget that.

She remembered when her mother was still a professor at the University, she couldn’t remember what state. However, as the years passed, she went to work less, until she eventually didn't go at all. Being as young as she was, she was unable to realize the fact that her mother suffered from a slew of mental health issues. In her eyes, her mother always took her on adventures, which would lead to arguments between her parents.

Sitting in the living room of the mobile home, she could only make out bits and pieces of the argument between her parents. Only a week ago her father left, saying he couldn’t stand what had become of her mother. When he came back to retrieve his belongings, he swore he would take Isabella with him.

“This didn’t just start...you have been becoming...irrational!” The little bits she could hear her father saying made barely any sense to the mind of an 8 year old. “What the hell are you doing? Are you threatening….gun!”

Sitting at the coffee table working on a calculus problem her mother assigned her, she could see her father slowly backing down the hallway. With dark eyes and a wild gaze upon her face, her mother followed closely on his toes, gun pointed at him. “Over your dead body will you take my daughter from me!”

Her father looked at her as he inched for the door, the look of despair in his eyes, he mouthed two words that would forever be etched in her mind, “I’m sorry.” He turned and exited the trailer, her mother quickly closed and locked the door, watching him through the blinds in the window as he drove away.

“I’m sorry you had to see that Bella. He will never take you away from me. Ever.”

After that night, they moved from place to place, Isabella was too young to realize if they switched cities or states. They only stayed long enough for her Mother to gather any food and supplies they needed and to make enough money for gas. To Isabella they weren’t vagrants going from city to city never settling, they were on an adventure that her mother said only they understood.

She never saw her father again, figuring that if he really cared about her he would have been there, he would have tried harder to find her in this game of hide and seek. However, he never did find her and she told herself she would never go looking for him. If she learned anything from the relationship of her parents, it was that men will leave you, no matter how much they claim to love you, they will leave.

About a year after her father left, her mother said they were going for a car ride, the whole time she told her how much she meant to her and how much she loved her, which is why she had to do what was best for them. “I don’t want you to end up like me,” she said, looking at her in the rearview mirror, right before she drove full speed into an approaching semi.

~~~~~

Since Isabella had never really been around other children it was hard for her to make friends at the orphanage. Mainly, she kept to herself, socializing like the other girls when there were prospective adopting couples. Many times she avoided the session, keeping her nose in a book, or solving math equations to pass the time.

On a cool spring day, she came across a dusty chess board in the game room. She took it into the dorm, keeping it under her bed. One day she would learn to play, but first she had to learn everything about chess. She found books in the small library of the orphanage, reading them throughout the night when the other girls were sleeping, in between classes and even during lunch and dinner.

Within a year, she was able to challenge the elders in games of chess, winning effortlessly. Until one morning she awoke to find a note under her bed rather than the chess board, it was from the headmaster.

“Report to my office after breakfast.”

She went to the cafeteria and silently ate her lunch as always, anxious to see why the chess board was taken. Once she finished eating, she turned in her tray and reported directly to the office.

“Come in and close the door,” Sister Gwendolyn said sternly.

Although all of the staff had “Sister” before their names, none of them properly represented a nun by far. Still, Sister Gwendolyn carried herself as a strict nun by Isabella’s imagination. She was a large woman in height, her pale face and bright red hair made her look as if she’d never seen the sun before. Her deep green eyes seemed to pierce through your soul, as if she knew every thought going through your mind. However, her fair, smooth skin added a gentleness to her otherwise overpowering demeanor.

She closed the door and sat at one of the chairs in front of the large mahogany desk. The headmaster still hadn’t looked at her, which caused her anxiety to elevate immensely. Sweat began forming above her brows, her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest and her body began trembling.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sister Gwendolyn looked at her, “Isabella, are you okay? You look as if you are about to faint. Here have some water and calm down.”

She poured her a glass of water as she handed her a flyer, “Do you know what this is?”

Isabella shook her head, but she began to read the flyer.

“It’s for a chess tournament at the local high school. First place wins a trophy and a $250 consolation prize. Do you know what we could do with that money here? I have entered you in the competition this weekend, and I have set-up the chess board in the adult lounge of the orphanage. You will have your breakfast, lunch and dinner there, as well as access as needed to practice for the tournament and any future tournaments. There will be no further discussion about this, just know that you are going to benefit the orphanage that has taken such good care of you thus far.”

Isabella knew better than to disagree, but she wouldn’t anyway. Playing chess had become her escape from reality, when she played the rest of the world disappeared, it was just her and the pieces on the board. She nodded her head in agreement, trying to hold back the excitement trying to escape from her throat.

“Then it’s settled, hurry along to class, you will only have history and reading after breakfast. You have already shown you are well above any level of math we teach here, so you will no longer need that or choir. Well, we are done here, you may be excused.”

She silently rose from her chair, turning quickly, smiling from ear to ear as she exited. Isabella quickly went to her dorm, wanting to read a bit more on a chess book she’d been studying.

She studied late into the night, almost unable to sleep, but deciding it would be best if she at least made an attempt. Laying in her bed, in the large room with more than ten other girls, sleep continued to evade her. Her body felt exhausted, but her brain was on overdrive.

Suddenly, a chess board formed on the ceiling, the pieces began to appear, and the game began to play itself. She spent the majority of the night envisioning all of the possible outcomes of the game, until her eyes could no longer stay open.

~

The weekend seemed to approach quickly, yet Isabella showed no signs of nervousness. She was ready for this, her mother had prepared her for this moment without her even realizing it. All of the math, problem solving, equations, and the games of chess, at least twice a week.

As Sister Gwendolyn drove her to the local high school for the chess tournament, she repeated how important this tournament was for the orphanage. Isabella sat in the back of the car, watching the trees pass by, looking at the clear blue sky, imagining she was an important person being driven by her personal driver. Sometimes her mind would wander, her imagination would run away with her; what seemed like a few minutes was actually the entire 30 minute drive to the high school.

As she stepped out of the car she was amazed by the massive building, since she had never been to an actual school, this experience was even more motivation. She figured if she could win this tournament, she would become famous and everybody would know her name, see her face.

“Isabella, snap out of it, we need to get you signed in. Now you listen, don’t let these boys intimidate you, use their insults as motivation to beat them. You are the first girl to enter a chess tournament, and today you will show them why you deserve to be here. You understand me?”

She nodded and walked into the front door with her head held high and confidence that anyone could see. As she signed in, the high school students were eyeing her, wondering who she thought she was to enter a high school tournament. The little snickers and sneers she heard as she waited to see who she’d be competing against first, only motivated her to make sure she won.

As the tournament began, she swept through her first 3 competitors in less than an hour. People were amazed, crowding around her table to watch her take out the competition. Less than two hours later and she was up against the reigning local champion, she politely asked for a bathroom break, just to make him wait in considerable agony, wondering if he would still be the champion after today.

Isabella decided to show off her skills and took him out in under 30 minutes, impressing the spectators so much that they began cheering loudly, which wasn’t typical of a chess tournament. She politely stood up and shook his hand, before promptly walking from the table to Sister Gwendolyns side.

Afterwards she was awarded the local championship trophy along with a check for the 1st place prize, a check in the amount of $250. She handed the check to Sister Gwendolyn, holding onto her trophy proudly as she took photos for the local and state newspapers. She basked in the attention she was receiving from the journalists and spectators congratulating her on her first victory, journalists and reporters requesting exclusive interviews, spectators asking for autographs.

Her glory was short-lived as Sister Gwendolyn notified her they needed to get back soon to wait for calls about other tournaments that would most likely want Isabella to play. She said her thanks and goodbyes and followed her out of the school and back to the car.

The ride seemed surreal, she couldn’t stop staring at her first ever trophy, constantly thinking about how she felt with all the attention she was getting. She felt like a movie star, people wanting her autograph and interviews. Women telling her she set a precedent for girls to play in the future, that it wasn’t only for men. Now she knew what it meant to set the standard, she just raised the stakes for the game of chess.

~

By the age of thirteen Isabella had risen from a local champion to the state champion, feeling as if life couldn’t get any better. Sister Gwendolyn had started giving her half of the winnings after she won her third local championship in a nearby county. She saved all of her winnings, since she had nothing to spend it on, for the day she turned eighteen and would be on her own.

When she woke up in the morning, she started her day as any other, putting on her uniform and going to breakfast with all of the other girls. After breakfast, Isabella headed to her first class, when she was stopped by Sister Gwendolyn.

“You are needed in my office, Isabella.”

Isabella sighed, “Another tournament? Can’t it wait until after my first class? You know I love math.”

“This is not in regards to any tournament, there is a couple in the office that noticed you the last time they visited, and they’d like to meet you.”

“Me? Why me?” There had not been a single couple that wanted to see her since she arrived at the orphanage, panic set in, she wasn’t even sure how to behave for this situation. She figured she would never be adopted, so unlike the other girls she didn’t practice what she would say or how she would act.

“That doesn’t matter now dear, this is your chance at living a normal life as a teenager, going to school, making friends, maybe even one day finding a boyfriend. This is your chance at having a family again. You have done so much for this orphanage, and we truly appreciate it. Now it is your turn to have what you’ve wanted since the first day you arrived - freedom. Now hurry along, we wouldn’t want to keep them waiting, now would we?”

She shook her head no, walking briskly alongside Gwendolyn, stopping to check her hair and appearance in the glass of the announcement case before entering the office.

When they entered, a woman stood up immediately, a warming and bright smile on her face, the man stayed seated without as much as taking a glance at her.

“Hello Isabella, I am Margaret and this is my husband, Franklin.”

As she walked around to the side of the desk, she was for the first time, at a loss for words. Sister Gwendolyn gave her a light nudge.

“H-Hello, Margaret and Franklin, it is very nice to meet you.” She smiled and sat in the seat offset behind the desk.

Franklin grunted without looking at her, and she could only assume this is what men were like. Margaret however seemed overly ecstatic to be there.

Sister Gwendolyn chimed in to break the awkward silence, “Do you have any questions you would like to ask her or myself?”

Margaret speaks without hesitation, “Bella, may I call you Bella? How would you feel about coming home with us today?”

Isabella can’t believe the words she is hearing, somebody actually wants to adopt her? Make her a part of their family? She calms her excitement, responding softly, “For your first question, yes you may, as my Mother called me Bella. For the second question, I would be delighted to come with you today, only if that is okay with Sister Gwendolyn?”

She looks to the headmaster, awaiting her approval or denial. The suspense is driving her mad inside, and then Gwendolyns lips begin to part.

“If Isabella is ready to go, then I have no problem with her going today. I will start on the paperwork to be sent to the state for the adoption while she gathers her belongings and says her goodbyes. Isabella, congratulations and I wish you the best on this new journey.”

Isabella thanks her as well as Margaret and Franklin, before heading back to the room she has lived in for so many years with the other girls; gathering the little bit of clothes and books that she has and putting them in the suitcase she arrived with. She patiently waited outside of the office while the couple filled out the necessary paperwork to legally adopt her. After what seemed like an eternity, Franklin exited the door first, completely ignoring her. Margaret came out with Gwendolyn, thanking her and then looking over at Isabella.

“Bella, dear, are you ready? Don’t mind old Frankie, he just needs to warm up to the fact that we now have a child, well a teenager, and he will be the friendliest man you’ve ever met.”

Isabella stood, hugging Sister Gwendolyn, before leaving with Margaret, to take the ride to her new home, new life, new everything.

~

Time seems to have flown by since the day she was adopted by Margaret, she doesn’t include Franklin. From day one he wasn’t very interested in getting to know Isabella, or even to acknowledge her presence. After about 6 months, he packed his belongings and said he had to go out of state for work for a couple of weeks, which turned into months, then years, in which he never returned at all.

Isabella didn’t mind, he made her feel uncomfortable in the home. However, he was the only one who had an income, so with him gone, they were struggling to pay the mortgage, utilities and even to purchase food. One day that all changed for the better.

Isabella learned of local chess tournaments with cash prizes, so in the beginning she secretly entered the tournaments and won the prize money. She would discreetly slip the money in Margarets purse or in the envelope for the bills.

One Saturday morning, as she was about to walk out the door, Margaret stopped her.

“Isabella, where do you go at night and early on Saturday mornings? Don’t say the library, because I have gone there looking for you. Do you have a boyfriend? Are you having premarital relations?”

Isabella giggled, “A boyfriend? Margaret if I was seeing a boy you would have met him by now, so no, I don’t have a boyfriend. I am definitely not having ‘premarital relations’. I have been playing in Chess tournaments to win money for the mortgage, bills and food. It was the least I could do, since you gave me a home and showed me once again what it feels like to be loved by somebody.”

Margaret stood there stunned and surprised, unable to find the words, only able to wrap her arms around her.

“I was wondering where the money was coming from. At first I thought maybe Franklin had been sneaking in and leaving the money, but I laughed that thought off. Then I thought you were stealing it, but I didn’t know how to ask you..Chess tournaments? Are you good?”

Isabella smiled, “Why don’t you come with me today and see for yourself?”

Without hesitation, Margaret threw on her coat, grabbed her car keys and they headed out the door.

At the tournament, she didn’t understand a single moment of the chess game, all she knew was that her Bella had advanced through each game so quickly, that she had to wait for over two hours to play the other finalist. She quickly beat him and received congratulations, as well as a trophy and a cash prize.

As they drove home, they sat silently for a little bit. Margaret had so many questions, but it was as if Isabella already knew them and spoke first.

“The trophies, I usually just leave them on the bus, or toss them in a dumpster somewhere. That is why you never see them, but since you know now, I would like to purchase a trophy case for future trophies. There are larger prizes, but those are for regional and state level tournaments. With school and no means to travel that far, I haven’t been able to compete. Also, I know that you have not had to use all of the money I have given you, as Franklin now pays you alimony after he decided to divorce you. I also know that you have saved it all, in a little envelope labeled ‘Money for Bellas college expenses.’ I hope you will not be disappointed, but I do not have plans to go to college. I want to play chess, I am probably the best at it in the United States, and I can go on to be a chess coach once I have achieved the highest title of World Champion. Have I left any answers out?”

By this time, Margaret had pulled over on a side street, listening to her every word. She was amazed at the certainty in her words, how she was such a brave young woman that wanted to stick with her dreams, unlike her.

“As a young woman, I was a fabulous pianist, I played at many events. I could have had a career in music, but Franklin thought that I should stop pretending like I could make anything of myself. I gave up playing and decided to be a housewife and mother, which the mother part never worked out for me until I saw you. I want you to be able to fulfill your dream. My only question is how do you feel about me homeschooling you while we travel the United States and you compete? I’m open to it, if that is what you would like to do.”

“I would be delighted, but we will both need to go shopping, our wardrobes are both tired and we could use a little spark in our looks. So how about a day downtown? Let’s get our hair done, go shopping at the fanciest department store in town, then go home to plan out our chess adventure?”

They did exactly that; buying clothes and shoes that for years both of them could only ever imagine to purchase. They both changed their hairstyles slightly, and even had their makeup done. They walked around with their heads held high for the first time in a long time; being treated like royalty as they spent like crazy.

~

Over the years, Isabella won enough State competitions to pay off the mortgage and have it transferred into Margarets name, so she could finally be free of Franklin. They had gone on many vacations to exotic resorts with private beaches, enjoying the financial freedom that came from her chess winnings. Most people would think that Margaret was a horrible person for letting her child pay for everything, but Isabella did not see it that way. She wanted to take care of Margaret, she felt she was showing her appreciation for loving her like she did, as if she was her own. She also taught her how to carry herself as a classy and respectable young lady, to save her money, and to live life for herself.

“Margaret, there is something we need to talk about.”

“Bella, what is it?”

“I will be eighteen in a few weeks, so I will finally be able to compete in the US Open Chess Championship. I would like to compete in it, but since I am still only seventeen, I will need your consent to enter and play in the preliminary tournaments. Would you be willing to do that for me, as well as be my manager?”

“Of course, Bella, this is what you have been waiting for. So, where will we be staying for the next few weeks?”

“How do you feel about nice relaxing days, at a beachfront resort, in California? After that we can take a mini vacay in Cabo San Lucas. Sound like a plan?”

“Well, should we go shopping?”

Isabella sings with excitement as Margaret plays her favorite piece on the piano. They go shopping for bathing suits and new dresses, talking about their soon to come California/Mexico trip. Booking their flights as soon as they get back to the house, Margaret cooked them a nice dinner and they ate at the dining room table reminiscing about their lives together over these last almost 5 years.

When Isabella finally went to sleep, she dreamt of chess boards. Not just any chess board. A life size board where she walked from square to square, reciting the location, what piece could move there, and lastly her favorite plays.

~

When they arrived in California, they were picked up in a sedan, sent by the US Chess Open themselves. They were driven directly to the location of the upcoming preliminaries, where they were greeted by news reporters and journalists. The main buzz involved a female chess prodigy, which was in rare form these days. Although thanks to her, there were many more females playing chess. None of them, of course, were as successful as Isabella. She wanted to bask in the glory of being somewhat famous, but Margaret pushed through the reporters and reminded Isabella to keep her focus.

When they entered the convention center, it seemed as if there were hundreds of other competitors getting their forms turned in and registering for the prelims. For the first time since she began playing chess, Isabella felt that nervous ache in the pit of her stomach. She dreamed of this day for years and now that it was finally here, she wasn’t sure if she had what it took to win.

As Margaret was taking care of the forms and fees, there was a commotion outside, reporters and journalists snapping pictures and recording a vehicle approaching. As the car finally came to a stop, some of the competitors stopped what they were doing and began crowding around the entrance. The back door opened and a man stepped out, waving and smiling at the spectators and reporters.

His hair was slicked back perfectly, with just a few strands purposely hanging loosely on his forehead. His sun-kissed skin seemed to glow as the sun rays touched his face. His jawline was chiseled to perfection, his lips looked full and luscious. Isabella felt her body temperature begin to rise, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him, she felt drawn to him. She had never felt this way before, and she began feeling embarrassed. She felt the heat in her cheeks as the blood rushed to them, her heart was pounding in her chest as she walked him casually stride to the entrance.

She could hear the reporters asking if he would be competing in the games, he laughed politely and said he was only here to spectate.

“I would just like to see my possible competition in action. That is all. Please, let’s not make a spectacle of my being here, there are others that have worked hard to be here. Let them have the spotlight, just treat me as any other spectator. Thank you.”

His accent was thick, the sexiest voice she had ever heard. She froze as he began walking in her direction, stopping to shake the hands of some of the well known competitors, she wanted to close her eyes and disappear as the distance between them began to close.

“Hello, you’re Isabella, right?”

She had to look up at him, he towered over her small frame, holding his hand out to shake hers. She noticed how dainty his hands were for such a tall man, with the cutest little pinky.

She giggled as she responded, “Yes. I’m sorry, I’m Isabella, and you are?”

“Jimin, Park Jimin, South Korean Chess Champion for the last 10 years. I look forward to seeing you at the tables. Good luck.”

He kissed her hand before walking away, continuing to stop and talk with other competitors. She still couldn’t take her eyes off of him, even as he got further away. Just as he was about to enter the main tournament hall, he turned back and gave her one last glance and a smile. Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

“Bella,” Margaret called her, startling her from her trance, “I have been calling your name. Who was that handsome man you were talking to?”

“Well, Margaret, that was Mr. Park Jimin, South Korean Chess Champion. He has come to spectate and watch us play. He is the man I will have to play for the final game when I am invited to play in the South Korean Chess Championship. He is the man I will beat.”

Margaret just smiled and asked Isabella if she would like to look around before they went to cpu heck in at the resort. She agreed, and they met other players, both male and female, that were excited she was there. She once again felt like a celebrity, like somebody important, yet she could only think of Jimin.

As the tournament begins, she finds and greets her opponent, noticing that Jimin is sitting in the front row of the spectator seating. She reminds herself that she must stay focused, but it’s hard for her to concentrate with him watching her every move. She reminds herself that she is the prodigy, that she is the future world champion, and that no man will get in her way.

After a little self pep talk, she begins to take control of the game, winning fairly quickly. After the first win, the rest seem to fly by like small glimpses of memories, because the only thing she could focus on for long periods of time was Him.

She was finally up against her last opponent, this was it, the moment she had been waiting for. She glanced over at Jimin, to make sure he was watching, and of course he was. She flashed a flirty grin at him, he raised an eyebrow and smiled back. She turned back to her opponent and took her time with this game. She didn’t want to rush it, she wanted to toy with her final opponent. Let him relish in the false hope that he may win, when she already knew exactly how the game would play out.

After she had enough of toying with him, she glanced over at Jimin, giving him a wink, 6 plays later, “Checkmate.”

Her opponent studied the board for about a minute, then laid down his King, stood and extended his hand.

“Isabella, you have been one of the greatest opponents I have ever played. However, you could have had me 10 moves back, why did you wait?”

“I wasn’t ready for the game to end and I knew that no matter what move you made, I would be able to win, so I figured I would play a little longer.”

She smiled and shook his hand, they turned towards the judges table, where she could see Jimin looking intrigued by her choice of plays. He just smiled and stood up, quietly walking toward the exit of the auditorium.

She received her trophy and the top prize check, took photos for the journalists and reporters, all the while wondering why he left without so much as speaking a word. She brushed it off as he knew he was in for stiff competition with her and he needed to get back to South Korea to practice, as she was sure she would receive an invite within the next couple of weeks.

“Congratulations, Bella! I knew you could do it! So where are we going? A night on the town, dinner at a fancy restaurant?”

Margaret was filled with excitement and admiration, Isabella could see it all over her face.

“Margaret, I would actually like to go back to the resort, let’s eat in tonight and get our plans for South Korea together. I will need to focus and be ready when I receive my invite.”

She looked slightly disappointed, but knew that Isabella was right. They left and returned to the resort, ordering the most expensive bottle of wine from the front desk, opting to eat in the hotel restaurant once they freshened up.

When Isabella entered the room, she found an envelope on her bed pillow. There was no writing on the outside, which left her confused.

“Margaret, did you leave me a card on my pillow?”

“No, when did I have time to get you a card? We have been together the entire time.”

Isabella opened the envelope to find a note:

“Isabella,

I am formally inviting you to meet me at the following location tonight @ 11pm. I will only wait one hour for you to arrive. I do understand if you do not feel comfortable meeting with me alone, so you may bring your Mother. I hope to see you tonight.

Always,

Park Jimin

Lure Nightclub, I will be in the VIP area, just let the person at the door know, your name will be on my list. I hope to see you tonight.”

[cheemers-writing-archive]

Nothing Else Like It: Chapter 6

Tw for this chapter: kidnapping and vomiting.

The next day, after Yorokobi gave Jotaro a heartfelt apology for soaking him, the two of them, along with Kakyoin and Anne, were going to get train tickets to India. As usual, Yorokobi and Kakyoin walked behind the others, but something was off. The two weren’t talking with each other at all. Well, that was a lie. Yorokobi was trying to keep a conversation, but Kakyoin wasn’t having it.

“You know, you said you were good at F-Mega yesterday,” Yorokobi taunted. “There’s an arcade nearby, if you want to challenge me.”

Kakyoin looked down at Yorokobi with a sharp glare. “Can I make it any more obvious?” he asked. “Shut up. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Yorokobi gasped a little, then gulped. “Sure, whatever,” she replied. “I didn’t want to talk to you, either.”

“Oh, really?” Kakyoin sneered. “It sure seemed to me like you were trying to get a reply out of me. Or were you just annoying me on purpose?”

“You looked like you wanted to talk, so I was trying to be nice,” Yorokobi lied.

“Then you’re really bad at reading the room. You should work on your social skills, or you’ll never get a boyfriend.”

“How about we talk this out away from Jojo and Anne?” Yorokobi muttered.

“Why? Are you embarrassed to fight with the guy who you like so much?” Kakyoin asked.

Yorokobi gritted her teeth and balled her fists, then let one hand loosen up to grab Kakyoin’s uniform collar and yank him to the nearest alley.

Jotaro chuckled. If Yorokobi was that mad, Kakyoin better prepare a good apology.

“I know you’re not him,” Yorokobi told Kakyoin. Rather, the fake Kakyoin.

He laughed a little bit. “You’re perceptive,” he replied. “How did you figure out?”

“When I look into the real Kakyoin’s eyes, my heart skips a beat, and I get all nervous, the kind of nervous that you feel when you like someone. Your eyes give me a different sense of nervousness, one that makes me feel like you’ll kill me and everyone I love.”

“Are you going to tell Jotaro?” fake Kakyoin asked.

“I’m going to give you two options,” Yorokobi answered. “One, you calmly walk away and never come near my friends and I again, and I keep your Stand’s secret from everyone else. Two, you attack me, and I yell out to Jojo that I’m being attacked by an enemy. It’s your choice, and so far, no enemy has taken Jojo down.”

The fake Kakyoin nodded. “I see. You’ll let me go if I leave you alone. None of your other teammates would be that merciful. Alright, I’ll take your offer.”

“So you’ll be going now?” Yorokobi asked.

“I will,” fake Kakyoin replied. “See you.”

Yorokobi sighed. She was grateful that the man decided to make that deal with her. If he didn’t, she might not have survived before Jotaro could get there.

“Just kidding.”

Before Yorokobi had time to react, fake Kakyoin put one hand over her mouth, and the other over her neck.

“You rely on breathing for your abilities, don’t you?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I won’t choke you for long, just long enough to throw you in the trunk of my car. How long that takes is up to you.”

After the fake Kakyoin had bindings put on Yorokobi’s wrists and ankles, and she was successfully placed in the trunk, the man smirked as Yorokobi gave him a glare. “Why don’t you just kill me off now?” she said through gritted teeth.

Fake Kakyoin chuckled. “Lord Dio may have said to kill you all, but what I really think he meant was to keep all of you away from him. Now, you’re a fine young girl, and I could probably get a few extra thousand dollars if I sell you to the right people. You wouldn’t have the chance to escape them to go after Dio.”

Yorokobi gasped, but didn’t have time to cry out for help because Kakyoin put a gag in her mouth. “Well, if I do die, which I doubt I will, at least you’ll die from the heat before anyone finds you. Anyway, I have to be going now. See ya!”

The trunk slammed down, and Yorokobi layed completely still for a couple of minutes before slamming her feet on the door and screaming as loud as possible, even if her voice was being muted.

Jojo, help me! Yorokobi wanted to say. The Kakyoin with us isn’t the real him! It’s an enemy! Don’t let him deceive you!

***

“Sorry that took so long,” Kakyoin said after catching up with Jotaro and Anne. “Yorokobi wanted to go back to the hotel because she was in a bad mood. I insisted on going with her, of course. If she ran into a Stand user, it would mean more trouble for her than for us.”

Jotaro nodded. “As long as you guys worked everything out. But I do think you took it too far when you told Anne about her liking you. I know it’s clearly obvious, but she thought her secret was safe.”

Kakyoin laughed. “Did she really need to stay under that impression?” He beckoned to an ice cream stand. “Come on, we can discuss it with some treats.”

Meanwhile, Yorokobi was in tears as she tried to gain the attention of anyone nearby, if there was anyone. Her throat was burning up from her frantic screeches, and her legs were starting to feel like lead from slamming them against the trunk door so many times. Not only that, but it must have been a particularly hot day, because Yorokobi was sweating like crazy, and her head was throbbing, although that might have also been because of stress. Her arms were falling asleep from being locked behind her back, and her mouth was drying up from the gag soaking up her saliva. And on top of it all, her mind was racing like crazy.

He… he said he would sell me, she thought to herself. I’d rather die than that happen! But I also don’t want to die…

There was nothing Yorokobi could do. Her Hamon wouldn’t work because her breathing was weird from the gag, and what good would it have done, anyway? With her breakfast threatening to rise up from her stomach, Yorokobi continued banging on the trunk and screaming, in hopes that someone would hear her.

Back at the hotel, Joseph and Avdol started to make a plan to tell Jotaro and Yorokobi about Kakyoin being a traitor when the phone rang.

“Jotaro’s grandfather!” Anne said over the phone. “Some trouble happened on the cable car with Kakyoin!”

“Anne?” Joseph asked. “What’s going on?”

While Anne was explaining everything, Kakyoin came into Joseph and Avdol’s room. “Is something happening?” he asked. “I heard someone call my name.”

“Kakyoin?” Avdol said. “Where were you?”

“I was sunbathing by the pool.”

“Anne, the Kakyoin with you is a fake!” Joseph told the girl.

“I know that!” Anne yelled, then gasped. “Also, is Yorokobi at the hotel?”

“No, Joseph answered. “Didn’t she go with you?”

“She did, but the fake Kakyoin said that he took her back!” Anne exclaimed. “If she’s not there, then he took her somewhere else! Yorokobi is missing!”

“Missing?” Kakyoin shouted. He almost ran off, but Joseph yanked him back just in time with Hermit Purple.

“I know you want to go save her, but we have no clue where to start,” Joseph told him. “I’ll take a spirit photo, and you can narrow down the options from there.”

Kakyoin nodded. “Just make it quick.”

Joseph slammed his hand down on the Polaroid camera in front of him, revealing a picture of a silver car.

“Okay, I know what to look for now,” Kakyoin said frantically. “I won’t return until I find Yorokobi, and that is a promise.”

And with that, he took off.

***

“You didn’t really take Yorokobi back to the hotel we’re staying at, did you?” Jotaro asked Rubber Soul. “What did you do to my sister?”

Rubber Soul laughed. “Don’t worry, Jotaro,” he taunted. “Yorokobi’s somewhere safe and secure. Somewhere nobody will find her.”

Jotaro made a slight gasp, yanking Rubber Soul’s hair. “Where is she?!” he yelled. “Where did you take her?!”

“What do you mean, Jojo?” Rubber Soul asked. He replicated Yorokobi’s voice perfectly. Yellow Temperance encased the man, and soon he looked just like Yorokobi, too. “I’m right here, safe and sound.”

Jotaro was almost impressed with Rubber Soul’s impression of Yorokobi, but he saw that sinister grin beneath. His sister may be mischievous at times, but her eyes never had an intent to kill in them. Plus, what was Rubber Soul thinking? Jotaro only had to envision Yorokobi dying of laughter as seawater poured all over him yesterday to blind himself from any hesitation of violence.

“Why are you looking at me like that, Jojo?” the fake Yorokobi sneered. “What did I do?” Her smug smirk was quickly wiped away from a punch to the face.

“Once I get done with you, I’m going to turn this city upside down to find Yorokobi,” Jotaro scowled. “For now, I have to make sure you pay dearly.”

“Yorokobi!” Kakyoin called out. He knew she probably couldn’t answer, but it didn’t hurt to try. “Yorokobi! Where did you go?”

His legs felt like lead, and his breathing was heavy. Still, Kakyoin kept running, calling out Yorokobi’s name wherever he went. Finally, after looking everywhere in the city, he found a small alley with a silver car at the end of it. Checking the photo again, it was the exact same, all the way down to the background. She had to be in there.

“Yorokobi!” Kakyoin exclaimed. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out!” He pulled on the trunk door, in hopes that whoever kidnapped her forgot to lock the car. No luck. The doors to the main part of the car were also locked, unfortunately. There was one thing Kakyoin knew he could do.

“Hierophant Green!” he called out, and his Stand appeared right next to him. “Slither in and unlock the car from the inside.”

In the trunk, Yorokobi didn’t hear Kakyoin call her name, nor did she hear his plan to get her out. All she heard was the doors unlocking, and her already frantic thoughts started spiraling even more. Even if she was helpless in her situation, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Kakyoin popped open the trunk, and was met with a kick to the gut. He coughed a little, then looked back at Yorokobi, who was giving him the best glare she could, but her wet eyelids gave her away.

“Yorokobi, it’s me,” Kakyoin reassured her. “I’m the real Kakyoin.”

Keeping her glare, Yorokobi met eyes with Kakyoin. The moment she did, her heart fluttered, and she couldn’t help but crack a smile. That’s when she finally let herself breathe, her stiff form melting down limply.

When Kakyoin took off the gag, Yorokobi pushed him away and threw up on the ground.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been holding that in,” she muttered before more puke forced its way out of her mouth.

“I can’t even imagine,” Kakyoin replied as he untied Yorokobi’s hands and feet. “But it’s okay now. Jotaro is taking care of the enemy as we speak, and I’ll get you somewhere nice and cool.”

After Yorokobi was done getting rid of her breakfast (and possibly last night’s dinner), Kakyoin offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. She wasn’t standing for long, though, as she felt so dizzy she almost fell flat on her face.

“Woah!” Kakyoin said. He caught Yorokobi right in time, extending his arm down to her torso and lifting her by the shoulder with his other arm.

“I’m fine,” Yorokobi heaved. “I’m okay. I can walk.”

“I don’t know what you call walking, but what you just did definitely wasn’t it,” Kakyoin chuckled. “Come on, I’ll carry you.”

“No, I can-” Yorokobi started to say, but was suddenly facing behind Kakyoin, her chin resting on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Kakyoin consoled. “It’s no trouble. I would have to walk back with you, anyway.”

“But I can walk,” Yorokobi murmured. The more she talked, the more Kakyoin realized how raspy her voice was.

“You probably damaged your throat screaming for help, didn’t you?” he asked. “From now on, no talking, so your vocal cords can heal.”

Finally giving in, Yorokobi nodded her head, hoping Kakyoin could feel it. He could at least take her silence as an okay.

“Yes, her name is Yorokobi Kujo,” Joseph said through the phone while Avdol paced back and forth. “Black hair, brown eyes, a red and black striped sweater, and some black jeans. She was last with her brother, Jotaro, and a couple of friends. No, they weren’t the kidnappers! Jotaro’s probably beating up that man as we speak.”

“I found her!” Kakyoin exclaimed, walking into the room with Yorokobi on his shoulders. Joseph dropped the phone immediately and ran to the two of them.

“She’s not in the best condition, but she’s still alive,” Kakyoin continued as he handed Yorokobi to Joseph.

“Oh, she’s hot,” Joseph muttered, “but she’s not sweating at all.”

“And she’s probably hungry after throwing up everything in her stomach,” Kakyoin added.

“I’m right here, you know,” Yorokobi muttered before letting out a painful cough.

“Hey, no talking, remember?” Kakyoin said. “You have to let your voice heal.”

“Yes, sir, she’s been found again,” Avdol said through the phone. “Thank you.” And with that, he ended the call.

“What do you think is the best thing to do, Mr. Joestar?” Kakyoin asked.

“Are you crazy?” Joseph shouted. “Get Yorokobi some food and water, stat! Actually, no, you put her in bed, I’ll get the food and water. Avdol, get some ice! The poor girl’s running a fever!”

While everyone scrambled to get what they needed for Yorokobi, Kakyoin laid her in bed as she continued to breathe heavily.

“Kakyoin,” Yorokobi whispered. The boy turned around, ready to remind her not to talk, but he supposed whispering would be okay.

“What’s wrong?” Kakyoin asked. “If you need anything, I’ll get it to you as soon as possible.”

“No, nothing like that,” Yorokobi continued to whisper. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Kakyoin gave Yorokobi a look that told her she had his full attention.

“I…” she tried saying the words, but she couldn’t find the right ones. “When I was trapped in that car trunk, I had lots of regrets, but none of them compared to this one regret. If I died, I wouldn’t let myself ascend to the next life until I told you… until I told you how I really felt about you.”

Kakyoin’s brows furrowed, and he tilted his head. Yorokobi breathed deeply.

“Noriaki Kakyoin…” she stated, in the loudest voice she could muster. “I like you.”

Although the hard part was over with, Yorokobi’s heart was still racing as she waited for Kakyoin’s response. He was taking awfully long. Was he looking for the right words to reject her without hurting her feelings?

“I…” he finally started, “I like you, too.”

Both let out a long sigh, then laughed a little bit.

“So, how long has this been going for you?” Yorokobi asked. Kakyoin took a seat at the foot of her bed.

“Since you first helped dull the pain in my head after Jotaro pulled the flesh bud out,” he replied. “You?”

“During the plane trip that was cut short from the enemy,” Yorokobi chuckled, then coughed.

“Oh, right,” Kakyoin said. “No talking for you. Only whispering.” He got up from his seat, and walked over to the doorway. “Say, Mr. Avdol is taking way too long getting ice. Where could he be?”

But as soon as he opened the door, three bodies toppled over on him, all just as surprised as he was.

“So you three were listening in, huh?” Kakyoin winced. “I’m not surprised with Mr. Joestar and Polnareff, but I expected more from you, Mr. Avdol.”

“I’ll admit, I felt a little dirty listening in to what should be a private conversation,” Avdol smiled, “but your pining for one another was so entertaining to watch, I had to know what you said to each other.”

“Hey! You four!” A voice called through the hallway. “Where’s Yorokobi?”

Everyone turned to Jotaro running towards them in a frenzy.

“Jotaro, you just missed it!” Polnareff grinned. “Kakyoin and Yorokobi finally told each other how they felt!”

“So she’s okay?” Jotaro asked.

“Well,” Joseph started, “‘okay’ isn’t the right word.”

“She’s feverish, dehydrated, throwing up, and the like,” Avdol told Jotaro. “She’s in very poor condition right now.”

Jotaro grunted, then pushed the others aside and entered the hotel room, where Yorokobi layed on her bed.

“So, how hard did you beat him up?” Yorokobi asked in a whisper. Jotaro closed the door.

“I know what you want to hear me say,” he sighed. “I’m an idiot for not noticing that Kakyoin was acting weird before you were kidnapped. And you’re right.”

“What?” Yorokobi exclaimed. Her raspy voice had gotten the loudest it had been since she was found. “I could’ve sworn you would come in here and call me an idiot for trying to negotiate with the enemy, which you would be right to do so.”

“You tried negotiating with the enemy?” Jotaro asked. “Okay, you win. You’re the idiot.”

“You tried negotiating with the enemy?!” Joseph exclaimed as he swung open the door.

“Do you not know what privacy means, old man?” Jotaro shouted. “Go get some food, for God’s sake!”

“That’s no way to talk to your grandfather,” Joseph scolded. “But you’re right. Yorokobi needs food.”

“I got some water,” Polnareff said as he ran in the room. “I even put a straw so it’s easier for Yorokobi to regulate herself.”

“Thank you,” Yorokobi mumbled. She sat up and took a little sip.

“Well, old man, what are you waiting for?” Jotaro yelled. “Go get something for Yorokobi to eat!!”

Beside Jotaro, Yorokobi laughed. “It’s so funny how you get protective over me when I’m sick.”

“Yeah, well, it won’t be funny if you die,” Jotaro said. “The old man and mom would be sad.” As he walked out of the room, he turned back and peered through the door. “You should probably get Kakyoin in here. I’m sure you guys will have lots to talk about now.”

Yorokobi heard Jotaro, but ignored him. For the first time in a while, she actually felt sleepy. Her eyelids couldn’t stay open any longer, so she closed them and allowed herself to rest.

[jerkbitchidjitassbutt]

What Mattered Most (2)

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam

Summary: Dean wakes to find she’s gone. What would make his best friend leave him? Sam may just know.

A/n: This will be a mini-series of two to three parts, based on the song “What Mattered Most” by Ty Herndon. This has been rumbling around in my head for a while, so I finally committed to getting it down. This is a little later than I was hoping to get it to you today, for that I apologize. 

Warnings: Angst. Sadness.

Dean stood in the doorway of the bunker’s kitchen, resting his weight against the wide frame as you stood at the stove, flipping sizzling bacon in a cast iron skillet. Your hips were swaying to the sounds of music flowing from your headphones and you would shimmy your waist every few beats, oblivious to the world and thoroughly enjoying the Saturday morning off. A smile played at his lips as he watched you, content to savor the moments where you were lost in a melody as you took care of him and Sammy.

You turned slightly and caught his movement out of the corner of your eye, making you jump and yank the cords from your ears, “Dean! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you yelled, clutching a hand to your chest.

A small chuckle erupted as he held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, you can’t blame me. There was no way I was going to ruin that show.”

Dean smirked as your cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink and a hint of a grin made a small dimple appear on the left side of your mouth.

He loved mornings like this; in the safety of his home, his brother snoring down the hall, and his favorite girl waiting for him to wake up.

“Yeah… well, you could have warned me. Not given me a heart attack.” You grumbled, but still cheekily beaming as you turned your back to him, setting to work at the stove with the pancake batter.

Dean moved slowly, placing a foot in front of the other methodically and allowing his strong legs to carry him to you. He rounded the small island, reveling in the sight of your falling in ribbons around a messy bun and your bare legs tucked beneath your sleep shorts.

It was a sight he adored. You.

When he reached you, he planted his feet on either side of your stance, his arms sensuously winding around your midsection. His fingertips trailed lightly against the skin exposed as he pressed his lips against your collarbone.

“How are you this morning, sweetheart?” he purred, caressing the shell of your ear with his mouth.

Reaching behind you to thread your fingers in his soft locks, you replied with a hum, “I’m good. Slept well, had good dreams.”

“Oh yeah?” he questioned mischievously. “About me?” he asked, attaching himself to your backside and locking you within his large frame.

You giggled. He could get lost in your laughter. “Of course, honey. Always about you.”

He spun you gently to cage you against the counter, leaning in to run his nose along the curve of your jaw, “I had good dreams too. I missed you when you weren’t there when I woke up, though.” his lips curling while he brushed a few stray hairs from your face, feeling the smoothness of your skin against his palm.

Stretching to your toes, you pressed a longing kiss to his plump lips, slipping your hands under the hem of his shirt to feel his muscle beneath. Dean knew he could live in this feeling for eternity.

“I’m sorry,” you whined, hugging him tightly and burying yourself in his chest, “but I had to go.”

“Go?” Dean questioned, confusion knitting his brow.

“Yeah, Dean.” You stated simply, pulling away from his embrace to look into his eyes, a sadness in your voice that he hadn’t heard before. “Remember? I left. I’m not here anymore.”

Dean stood speechless, witnessing the once happy glow fade from your gaze. A single tear flowed down your cheek, but you were steadily fading even as he still felt your warmth in his arms. “Y/n…”

Before he could continue, you slipped from his grasp, his hands still reaching for you as you vanished, words echoing in the darkness, “I’m gone. You can’t find me. I’m never coming home.”

Dean awoke gripping the sheets around him, a thin layer of sweat covering the length of his body and a panic in his chest that he couldn’t calm. He sat up quickly, searching his surroundings for something he wasn’t sure he’d lost. Sleep still fogging his memory, he struggled to remember what he was holding onto, but his dream haunted him none-the-less. He shook the covers from his legs and swung his bedroom door open with force, moving towards the room across the hall. Sam’s gentle snores could be heard from behind his cracked door to the left as he stood in front of yours.

When he twisted the knob gently and the door opened with a whine. He flipped the light switch, illuminating the pitch-black space to reveal a pristine, yet empty bedroom. He felt his stomach turn in knots and his eyes burn with fresh tears.

It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t his imagination… You really were gone.

He’d tried for two months to find you, but every shred of your identity was left behind. Every link or connection he had turned up empty. Fake badges, ID’s, and every burner phone he knew of yours sat on the small desk adjacent to your bed. He dragged his body towards it, slumping into the chair and resting his elbows on his knees to run a hand through his hair tiredly. Retrieving your most recent license from the stack before him, he took a moment to study the photo displayed on the plastic pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. The smile hidden beneath them.

The images of his dream flooded back to him. He felt your skin touching his, your body cradled against him, and the smell of your shampoo. His hands could still feel your heat, though they were cold to the touch.

The scene in his vision wasn’t entirely fantasy, but one that he’d been a part of years ago. A memory of breakfasts you’d shared so many times made his chest tighten in agony. They were always filled with laughter and deep conversations. The secrets you kept from the world were often shared over the most amazing coffee and arguments ensued over the last shred of bacon. The only difference now was the intimacy. The touching. The kissing. Holding each other. That was something that had never been reality. It was never that he didn’t love you—at least not in the profound, elegant way, but rather it was something that hadn’t blossomed within him, until recently.

Until Sam told him everything. Until you left.

Now there was a longing in his heart that bloomed like a thirst that could never be satiated. He reasoned that it was just the feeling of missing his best friend, the person that had been there for him through all of the ups and downs that accompanied this life. But he knew. Deep within him, Dean knew he was in love with you—he could deny it, pretend he didn’t know the feeling, but there was no mistaking it. He also knew that he was too arrogant to appreciate it when he’d had the chance to act. He drove you away to the point that you didn’t want to be found, all the while burying himself into a hole of his own creation. He could try to move on, to try to forget and pretend to be his old self with a devil-may-care attitude, but there would be no use.

He stood from your desk chair and moved to stand by your bed, envisioning you lying there curled beneath your favorite blanket. Strangely enough, your scent was still etched into the very fabric of the room he now stood in. Your once decorated nightstand and dresser were bare, drained of the photos that use to adorn them. Dean resisted the urge to crawl into your bed and instead settled for running his fingertips along the hem of your pillow, cold and unused.

Dean shuffled back to the confines and darkness of his own room; closing your door to hide the haunting sight of its bareness, before slowly lowering himself back onto his mattress. He tucked himself tightly beneath the sheets, praying for the release of sleep if only to see you once again.

Hours passed before he was being gently shaken awake by Sam informing him of a case. In a state of confusion and hollowness, Dean packed his small bag of belongings and kept the radio silent during the entire drive, pertinently ignoring Sam’s questioning stares. He tried to pretend with Sam; pretend he wasn’t torn apart, but his brother knew him all too well.

Now, here he was, in a bar in nowhere, Nebraska, trying to chase the tiniest bit of his sorrow away. They’d arrived in town at 7 p.m., too late to follow any leads of the case, so Sam elected to stay behind and do research as Dean elected to do anything but stare at motel room walls.

“Another round?” the bartender asked.

“Yeah, then close out my tab.” Dean replied; opting that two was actually a good place to stop for the evening, something he potentially wouldn’t have done two months ago.

The bartender, a man probably in his late 40′s and hardened by life, grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured another three fingers over the remaining ice in Dean’s glass, “You from around here?”

“No.” Dean shook his head, lifting the amber liquid to his lips. “Just in town for a few days.”

“Didn’t think so. Only a few newbies ever make there way to these parts. But, let me give you some advice…” the stranger replied, reaching behind him, “This place has the best steak in town. My neighbor owns it; it’s an institution around here.” He set a paper menu in front of Dean on the glistening wood, next to the coaster that would house his drink.

Dean picked it up, prepared to thank him before he excused himself to help the new round of guests that poured in.

As he was studying the menu, a commotion sounded from the other end of the room, where two men were in a heated discussion about a recent game of pool. Dean took notice of the increase in bodies in the small area, not surprising for a Friday evening in a small town bar. At the other end of the space, a squeal from the speakers sounded as a few workers set up equipment for karaoke that would apparently be happening later that evening.

Glasses clinked together, the cracks and clanks of the balls being pushed by  pool cues flooded his hears, and voices sounded from all around him; but nothing could have drowned out the sound of the voice he’d missed for months.

“Can I have a Jack and coke, please?” he heard from the opposite end of the bar, causing him to freeze. It was unmistakable.

He slowly turned his eyes in the direction of the wonderfully chilling melody and was met with the sight of you leaning over the edge of the bar, your Y/h/c hair falling in waves around your face and your eyes shining as you smiled at the bartender.

Dean attempted to force every cell of his body to tear his eyes away from you, but to no avail. Your skin was flushed and healthy. You were wearing a new shade of lipstick; a slightly darker red then the natural pigment of the flesh of your lips.

The bartender passed you a glass as you left a few bills on the counter, but you stayed planted where you were standing when you ordered. There was a lightness to you that Dean hadn’t witnessed in many years, feeling a fresh wave of guilt as the knowledge passed that it had been his doing that you’d lost it.

As he was taking you in, Dean felt a new found determination and strength to right whatever he’d done wrong. In that moment, he’d give anything to give you everything.

He began to stand, until he heard your name called.

A new fire rose to your eyes as you glanced in the direction from which it came, a bright, dazzling smile gracing your lips.

Dean watched as a man made his way through the crowd, steadfastly making his way to you.

And when that man captured your lips with his, Dean felt his heart shatter.

To be continued...

<Part 1 / Part 3>

Masterlist

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 22 of don’t read the last page is here!

masterpost

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

All things considered, it wasn’t quite how Kristoff had envisioned spending the anniversary of the day she’d told him she wanted him to be her boyfriend and he’d said “okay”. A full year; he couldn’t stop marveling at it, at how much at changed and yet how quickly the time had flown, how much love he could fit into three hundred and sixty-five days and yet still feel a sudden flash of surprise when she leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He was trying to focus on that rather than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. Or touch him, or even look at him.

chapter 22: different kinds of grenades

“Are you going to stay here forever?”

Warm, familiar lips pressed against the sliver of her temple that poked out from the top of the blanket pile. “That’s the plan.”

“Hmm. Okay. Guess there’s worse places to spend the rest of my life,” Anna heard him say, and then the mattress dipped beneath the weight of him as he settled behind her, curving against her back as best he could with a knot of blankets in the way. “Then again, it’s June in California and you’re bundled up for a snowstorm. I can’t imagine this ending well.”

“Go away,” she mumbled, turning to bury her face in the mattress as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes.

Kristoff was quiet for a long moment, then she felt the mattress shift again as he sat up. “Do you mean that?”

She didn’t, but she couldn’t bear to look at him right now. “Yes.”

He kissed the top of her head before getting back off the bed and shutting the door behind him without another word.

---

All things considered, it wasn’t quite how Kristoff had envisioned spending the anniversary of the day she’d told him she wanted him to be her boyfriend and he’d said “okay”. A full year; he couldn’t stop marveling at it, at how much at changed and yet how quickly the time had flown, how much love he could fit into three hundred and sixty-five days and yet still feel a sudden flash of surprise when she leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He was trying to focus on that rather than the fact that she didn’t want to talk to him. Or touch him, or even look at him. He had at least caught a glimpse of her as she shuffled into the bathroom, still engulfed in a blanket, but he hadn’t dared to speak and she hadn’t spared him even a glance before going back to the bedroom. 

It’d had been a full four months, he realized suddenly, since they had had a real argument. And they had agreed then to talk things out with each other, to be honest, and he’d been working on not keeping things locked inside, and she’d been working on taking better care of herself, because in five more months it wouldn’t just be themselves they were responsible for anymore.

But none of that was the problem this time. He knew exactly what was bothering her, and she knew what was bothering him, and she had been honest with not only him but the entire world, and somehow that had gotten them into the greatest mess they’d encountered yet, and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to help get back out of it.

It was stupid, really, how much power the internet had. He was more grateful than ever that he’d never bothered with social media accounts apart from the Twitter Anna had helped him make. Well-- that, and now the Instagram account he’d made after trying and failing to understand exactly what Sam had explained to him on the phone.

It had made a lot more sense when he had seen it himself. The picture Hans had posted of Anna in Moscow, looking back at the photographer with a surprised smile, her eyes bright and her hair fluttering in the wind. And the caption, just a stupid broken heart emoji, that apparently was meaningful enough for the photo to have ten thousand comments and counting. He had only scrolled through them for a minute before feeling too nauseated to keep reading. There were only so many times he could take reading “what a whore” and “omg was she cheating?” and “do u think she even knows who the father is?”

His phone buzzed on the sofa next to him with a text from Sven. How’s she holding up?

Kristoff sighed and glanced back at the closed door before typing out a response. Not looking good over here.

.

Damn. I’m still checking Twitter, by the way. I think the response tweet helped. #WhoIsKristoff is number three now

.

Is #AnnaArendelleIsOverParty still number one

.

Do you want to know the answer to that?

.

I mean, you just basically answered it. 

Before another response could come through, he heard a creak and glanced up to see Anna peering out at him, red-faced and sniffly. “Can I come sit with you?” she asked timidly. 

“You don’t even have to ask, baby,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

She chose instead to straddle his lap, still holding the blanket over her shoulders as she tucked her face against his neck. “Happy anniversary, Kris,” he heard her mumble as a fresh wave of tears began to soak into the collar of his t-shirt.

He took hold of the blanket, tucking it in around her before hugging her around the waist. “It’s okay. We can celebrate another time.”

“I’m really sorry I let this make me forget.”

“You’ve already apologized to me a million times the last two days, and none of it has been your fault. Including that.”

“But you remembered.”

Kristoff sighed. “I’m really not mad at you.”

“It would be easier if you were.”

“Why?”

He felt her shrug. “You’re just...just so good to me. Even though every time I try and do something for you I end up making your life miserable.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

“Like I showed up in your life and kissed you and then ran away. And then I came back and asked you to try again, and then I left for six weeks. And-- and then I said I loved you, and then I got cast in that fucking movie, which is the reason Hans even knows I exist, and then I was gone so much and made you feel like shit, so then I came back early and forgot my pill like a fucking idiot and got knocked up and everyone thinks it’s his. And then, like, the one thing you asked was that you didn’t have to go public, but now because of that we have to and I tried, Kris, I really did, and I had no idea Hans would find a way to turn it into this.”

His heart was pounding by the time she finished; there was a heat rising in him, enough that he could feel his cheeks flushing. He was angry, now, at Hans and the world and, if he was being honest, a little bit at her. “I-- how can you still think that about yourself, Anna? That you just make me miserable?”

“Because I do, Kris, like this morning I was such a bitch to you and--”

“Stop, okay? Don’t-- don’t try and tell me how I should feel about this. About any of it.”

“Sorry,” she whispered again, and for a moment he closed his eyes as tight as he could, drawing in a deep breath before he dropped a kiss against the top of her head.

“All I’ve ever wanted is you, Anna,” he said quietly. “You, and now the baby. Our baby. And I never, ever thought that I could be this….happy, I guess, but that’s not the right word for it. I know it feels like shit keeps hitting the fan, like, constantly, but we have so many good days in between, baby, and even when you’re gone or we’ve argued or now with this, I’m just...I don’t know.”

She had turned her face where it rested against his shoulder, and if he craned his neck he could meet her teary-eyed gaze. “I know things look really bad right now for your career,” he said, knowing there was no point in sugarcoating it. “And that the media is going to be brutal. But I’m still here, and I still love you. And that’s all I’ve got to offer, but I hope it’s enough.”

“You’re always enough, Kris,” she said, sliding one hand up to rest just over his heart. “But I’m worried that one day I won’t be. That just loving me won’t be able to make up for the rest of the other shit.”

He covered his hand with her own, and despite himself, he smiled a little when he felt the diamond in her engagement ring press against his palm. “You’re always enough, too,” he said, and she gave him a little smile in return. “And we’re going to figure this out together, just like everything else.”

She nodded, closing her eyes again as she nestled closer against his chest. “Thank you. It’s just that I, like...like I know you’re going to say stuff like that to me, and that you mean it, but sometimes I just...I don’t know. I know it, but I can’t believe it.”

His phone buzzed then, and she pulled away to grab it and hand it to him before settling against him again. He peered at the screen; another message from Sven-- and suddenly an idea was blooming in his mind.

“Anna?”

“Hmm?” she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his neck and pressing a soft kiss there.

“How do you feel about getting out of the house for a little while?” 

“I don’t know if I’m ready to face the whole world yet, even with you there.”

“Don’t worry. I don’t mean going out in public, just...somewhere you like. That I think would cheer you up.”

He waited, holding his breath, and then he felt her nod against his neck. “Okay,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I trust you.”

---

Despite having stayed in bed all day, she hadn’t really slept much, and she’d spent most of the night before lying flat on her back staring up at the ceiling, worried and angry and just plain scared thoughts flipping through her mind like the clacking wheel of a rigged carnival game where the only prize was something new to stress over. But now, sitting in the reclined passenger seat of Kristoff’s car while his hand curled comfortingly over her knee, she was finally able to doze off, feeling a sense of peace at last creeping in to cover the sense of unease that had been running rampant through her ever since Lena had sent her a frantic text only an hour after her article had been published and two minutes after Hans’s post had gone up. It hadn’t even been thirty-six hours, but it felt like a lifetime somehow, separating whoever she was now from the girl who had thought that somehow telling the truth would set the whole world to rights in one go. 

She was woken by Kristoff gently squeezing her leg. “Wake up, baby,” he said, and when she did she saw him smiling softly at the way she had fallen asleep, one hand over his and the other pressed against the barely-there swell of her stomach, the one that only the two of them had been able to notice so far.

“Where are we?” she asked through a yawn, and he laughed.

“Look out the window. And let me know if you want me to carry you upstairs for old times’ sake.”

She followed his directions, a gasp escaping her almost immediately. “Oh my god! Nothing’s changed here, has it?”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “I think that’s a new dumpster, maybe.”

“Is it weird to say I miss this parking lot?”

“Nah. Lots of good memories,” he said, coming around the car to open the door for her.

She grinned and took his proffered hand, tightening her fingers around his as they made their way up to his old apartment building, failing to contain her giggles when she saw that the elevator was down again. “Does he know we’re coming?” she asked.

“Yeah. He’s really excited, seriously. He just sent me a bunch of emojis and a gif of one of the Kardashians.”

“I knew he’d get tired of the quiet before long,” Anna said triumphantly as she raised a hand to knock on the door. “And that you’d learn how to say Kardashian one of these days.”

The door flew open so quickly she knew Sven had to have been waiting. A huge smile was on his face as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Hey, Anna. Good to see you. How’s my godson?”

“Goddaughter,” Kristoff said, pretending to be irritated, and Anna laughed. “I’ll be right back. Chinese food good with both of you?”

Anna glanced back over her shoulder, not quite ready to let go of Sven just yet. “What do you mean? We can just order in.”

He shifted uncomfortably from side to side. “And then the delivery person would see you, and us, and…”

Her face fell as she let go of Sven and turned to face Kristoff properly. “Oh.”

“I’ll be back fast, though. I promise. Kick ass at Mario Kart for me while I’m gone, yeah?” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“I will,” Sven said, though the cheeriness in his voice sounded a little more forced this time.

When the door closed behind Kristoff, there was a beat of uncomfortable silence as Anna turned back to face Sven, unsure where to begin. To her relief, he took the lead. “How are you? For real, don’t bullshit me and tell me it’s all fine.” 

She sighed. “Can we talk while we play a game or something? It’s easier when I don’t have to like, look at your eyes and see you being all sympathetic and nice to me.”

“Sure. Mario Party 8? I’m never nice to you during that.”

“Can we play like...something with guns? What’s that game all the kids play?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want me to teach you how to play Fortnite?”

“If it means blowing shit up, then yes. Teach me all about it, Svensei.”

“That’s still my least favorite nickname you’ve come up with,” he said drily, crossing to the fridge. “Go ahead and sit down. You want a beer or-- oh, right. Duh. I’ve got chocolate milk? And water, obviously.”

“Water, please. Chocolate is the only thing that still makes me sick.”

He gasped dramatically as he pulled down two cups. “No shit? That’s fucked up, man.”

“I know, right? That’s probably why Kristoff is freaking out about cheering me up, he can’t just get me a giant bag of M&Ms any more.”

Sven sat beside her and passed her a glass of water. “Cheers,” he said, clinking his cup against hers.

“You can have a beer if you want, you know.”

He shrugged. “Solidarity. Gotta start early so that when he starts throwing a tantrum for a toy or something he knows you and me are a united front. It’s Bjorgman we gotta worry about. You and me both know he’s a soft touch.”

Anna set her cup down so she could turn to face him, sitting cross-legged on the sofa they had ended up buying for him after all. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”

“‘Course he will. It’s you we’re worried about.”

“But like...I knew what I was signing up for when I decided to be an actress. He just kind of got dragged along for the ride. And he took it really hard when people first started all the rumors about me and Ha--”

“He-who-must-not-be-named. Continue.”

“Okay, him. And anyway, now he’s so worried about me he’s not taking time to worry about himself, you know? And I was kind of a bitch to him this morning for no reason, and then like a dumbass I didn’t realize it was our anniversary til way later.”

“Let me guess,” Sven said, leaning back against the cushions and giving her a knowing glance. “Before an argument even started, one of you-- or both of you-- got started apologizing. And then you started snuggling and said a bunch of cheesy shit and worked it out.”

In spite of her reddening face, Anna couldn’t help but smile. “Are we that predictable?”

“You forget I put up with listening to this shit for like six months. The walls are thin in this apartment. I’m pretty sure I heard ‘love you back, baby’ more times than I heard the headboard banging against the wall. Which, just saying, was a lot of times.”

“...sorry.”

“A little late for that now, eh?” he said with a playful wink.

“But be serious with me, please, I-- I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but you’re just...I don’t know. You’re good at knowing what to say when neither of us do.”

“I am, aren’t I?” he said with a laugh before rearranging his face into a more serious expression. “I mean, it’s not going to be easy on either of you, is it? Going public was going to be rough anyway, but like...is there anything you can do? To prove that Hans is full of shit and you guys never dated?”

She shook her head. “We were so focused on being private for so long we don’t even like, take pictures on our own together. There’s no proof, not even with like, the deed to the house. I’m the only one on it.”

“Shit. Well...I don’t know. Sometimes stuff like this blows over, sometimes it doesn’t. You just gotta wait it out and see, I guess.”

Anna sighed. “That’s not making me feel better.”

“Why not? I mean...you’ve got, what, a week left filming this sequel?”

“Yeah.”

“And after that, what’s on the schedule?”

“Nothing. Just doctor’s appointments as far as the eye can see. And wedding planning if we can ever pick a date.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” Sven said, reaching out to tug on the end of her braid. “You’re so worried about what random people think on Twitter you’re forgetting to be happy about getting married and having a baby.”

She blinked at that and took a long sip of water to cover her surprise. Sven grinned at her, knowing he’d managed once more to know just what to say. “See there,” he said, pleased with himself, “that’s why you picked me. I’m gonna give this kid so much godfatherly advice.”

“In my defense,” she said, “my whole job is kind of based on what randoms on Twitter think.”

“Your job is based on being a good actress. Which you are. Nobody’s going to give a shit about this after the movie comes out.”

“What if they do?”

He sighed dramatically. “Shit, Anna, then I guess you’re stuck with a husband and a kid and a house and a million dollars and the world’s best best friend.”

She perked up at that. “Am I your best friend?”

“Well. Tied with Kris, of course, I can’t completely betray him. I’m just saying, he hasn’t asked me to be his best man yet, and I always did want to be a maid of honor…”

Anna laughed and leaned over the sofa to give him a hug around the neck. “Thanks, Sven,” she said softly. “I feel better, and I didn’t even shoot a cartoon gun yet.”

He patted her affectionately on the back. “You’ll feel even better when I tell you about all the different kinds of grenades.”

[drizzitwrites]

Football RPF Linear Challenge - Day 2: First Conversation

clI technically wrote this yesterday as the end of the bit on first impressions, so today I had intended to write the scene that I envision coming after that one. It wouldn’t be in the same fic, as that fic is intended to follow the Five Times format like I did for “Five Times Christian Eriksen Helped His Teammates With Their Problems”. What I worked on yesterday is the opening scene of part 1 of the sequel to that, which will be called “Five Times Christian Eriksen’s Teammates Helped Him With His Problem(s)” and is basically five vignette sorts of scenes of Christian figuring out and coming to terms with his feelings for his teammate.

I also wanted to tell their getting together story from Vincent’s POV, so some of it was going to parallel what happens in that fic, but looking at the same situations and conversation through Vincent’s lens, as it were. Basically, what I meant to write today was a scene that came after this initial terribly awkward meeting where Jan and Mousa are being trolls and Toby is going along with them (for now) and while Christian was off in the dressing room calming himself down, they invited Vincent to join them (Mousa, Jan, Toby, and Christian) for dinner. Except no one has told Vincent that Christian will be there and Christian doesn’t know they invited Vincent so they get to have SURPRISE! Awkward Conversation 2.0, and that’s what I meant to write today.

Instead, I spent FOUR HOURS writing close to 4000 words of Vincent’s POV of the exact same first meeting and conversation on the training pitch between the two that I wrote yesterday.

It started out well, but I lost steam at the end (because I have been writing for FOUR HOURS), so it probably needs some work and is making leaps in logic that no one can follow but me.

But I did it and here it is from my fingers to your eyeballs uncut and unedited and filled with Vincent waxing poetic and being deep in his feelings, as usual. Also, I went deep into MY OWN FEELINGS about the KNVB and Dutch football. Not sorry.

Truthfully I haven’t even read through it so possibly it makes no sense at all.

Enjoy.

"Dank je, wel--um, I mean...thank you," Vincent said, climbing out of the black cab and stepping onto the curb.

He took a moment to stare around himself at the scene before him--street filled with people talking and laughing together in the evening sun, the hiss of traffic and occasional shout or horn blast from the street behind him. On all sides of him brick and stone buildings boasting columns rose up out of the sidewalk, and he scanned around to look for the right one.

The nearly hour-long ride from his hotel room near the Enfield Training Centre had been slow and traffic-laden, but uneventful beyond that. Vincent, who'd spent the last few years of his life in and around Amsterdam, thought he'd gotten used to heavy traffic--there was a reason everyone in Amsterdam owned a bicycle--but it was only when he'd looked up the route on his phone and saw that the distance from Enfield to here was only half the distance of his daily half hour commute from his apartment on the outskirts of Amsterdam to the training complex in Alkmaar that everything sunk in.

This was London. A single city the size of the entire Randstand in Holland. Buzzing with the energy of over eight million people. A far cry from his childhood in Oss or even his more formative years at the football academy in Rotterdam.

London. Home to English football. Tottenham Hotspur. The beautiful club he'd dreamed of joining for so long, and now here he was, meeting some of the legends of AFC Ajax for "a celebratory dinner and drinks."

He didn't know what he'd been expecting when he rocked up to the much-lauded Enfield Training Centre to make his commitment to Spurs official, but he didn't think it was this. He'd been through this process only twice before in his short career, and of course it was different this time than either of the previous affairs.

At Almere, he'd been reluctant and reserved, knowing he was making the right decision not helping him resent it any less. He'd ended up there after making the most difficult choice of his entire life to that point--admit failure and walk away from the sport he'd loved since the first moment his father had rolled a ball to his feet or graciously accept that things hadn't worked out the way he'd planned and regroup in the lower leagues. He'd chosen the latter, and while it had been the correct choice, and one that had re-kindled a fire in him that he thought had long since died, although at the time it still felt an awful lot like admitting defeat.

Instead, he'd turned up at the club ready to do his time, prove himself, and escape as quickly as possible. He was better than lower-league football. He'd lifted a trophy at Feyenoord and then promptly been told he no longer had a place with the club. He'd been nineteen years old and ready to set the world ablaze, then been forced to drag himself into a club whose existence he'd barely registered and pretend he was honoured to be representing them.

His attitude had changed swiftly, of course, once he'd settled in, and he'd honestly enjoyed his time in Almere and still treasured many of the friends he'd made in those three years. It hadn't been what he'd wanted at the time, but it had turned out to be exactly the opportunity he needed to find his feet, get his head back on straight, and focus on moving forward in an environment where there wasn't such a constant, crushing pressure to give more and push harder and get ahead. Not that they weren't expected to give their best--Vincent could never been accused of not putting one hundred percent into his training every day--but the expectations placed on even the top players at Almere City were nothing compared to those placed on you at a club like Feyenoord.

When AZ had come calling, Vincent's Almere teammates had bid him goodbye with smiles and wishes for the best, and he'd bid them all the same. Almere was never a club anyone planned to stay with for long, so no one had any hard feelings about any of them moving on. Vincent would miss his friends there, but it was time for the next step in his career, the Eredivisie, and he was ready to take the league by storm.

At AZ, everything had been different. The club had sold much of its first team from the previous season and brought in a fleet of new signings, all of them learning to re-adjust to life at their new club together. Everyone had been unsteady and uncertain at first, all of them getting to know their new surroundings, finding housing, and exploring the city together, all of them trying to figure out where they fit in within the city and the culture. Vincent, along with many of the new signings, had settled in Haarlem, and they'd all formed fast friendships as they met up for meals and explored the town.

And now, London. Tottenham Hotspur. Vincent's stomach had been in knots and his heart pounding so hard he thought it might be audible even on the videotapes being recorded of him putting pen to paper. He'd been so nervous in his post-signing interview that his mind had gone blank of all words, Dutch and English alike, and his only memory of the moment was of him saying the words "beautiful club" on repeat for lack of anything else.

A beautiful club in a beautiful city with his beautiful teammates.

That wasn't the reason he'd chosen Spurs, or so he told himself. Sure, it happened to be where a certain ex-Ajax player currently plied his trade, but it wasn't about that. He'd wanted the opportunity to play in one of the best leagues in the world and train at a top-class facility along with top-class players. At Spurs he could learn and improve every day. He'd be pushed harder than he had been in years, maybe harder than ever before, and he was ready for the challenge. Pochettino had spoken with him and convinced him he was just the sort of player Tottenham was looking for, and, coincidentally, Tottenham was just the sort of team Vincent was looking for.

That Christian Eriksen happened to play there was just an added bonus.

It hadn't occurred to Vincent that after signing his contract and giving a few interviews and promotional photos, he'd actually be expected to speak to Christian Eriksen. Intelligently. As a teammate and a peer.

Instead, when he'd stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine and found his eyes automatically drawn to the too familiar twisting, turning run he'd spent far too many nights laying on his bed and watching on repeat, rolling the recorded footage back over and over again and memorising every shape, line, and detail of Christian's lean, beautiful body, he realised he'd possibly made a grievous error in judgement.

He was Christian Eriksen's teammate. Christian Eriksen whose post-match interviews he'd nearly committed to memory. Christian Eriksen who made Vincent's legs weak and his blood rush from his head to his groin with nothing more than the way he moved his body on the pitch. And now Vincent would be here, every day, doing his level best to somehow manage to co-exist on the training pitch with that body live and in-person, darting around defenders to find the best angle and passing the ball to Vincent's feet and...oh, he wasn't ready for this.

But he'd gotten through it, somehow. Had forced himself not to stare at Christian and only Christian, his straw-coloured hair dampened with sweat to a honey brown, clinging to his temples even while the front still stood up in its characteristic quiff. Instead, Vincent had forced his face into what he hoped was a pleasant smile and carefully tried to keep a polite distance, fumbling through his English as he provided the usual platitudes about how glad he was to be joining the club and how much he was looking forward to the coming season. All of it true, of course, but none of it really resonating through the blood pounding in his temples and the voice in his head screaming about how much more striking Christian's wide, almond-shaped eyes were from only a few metres away.

And then...Vincent surrounded by new teammates, all of them shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder and welcoming him to London and to Tottenham. The handshake, he'd learned, was one of Pochettino's hard-and-fast rules. Everyone on the team was expected to greet everyone else with a handshake at the start of every day, a way to build camaraderie and fellowship among them all. The names flew at him from all sides, and he'd known many of them already, of course--Michel Vorm, who Vincent already knew from his short time with Oranje over the past few months,  Dele Alli and Eric Dier and the famous Harry Kane, revered AZ club legend Mousa Dembele with ex-Ajax phenoms Toby Alderweireld and Jan Vertonghen not far behind. And from there...

“You have to meet Chris,” Jan said, not even bothering to look back as he reached behind himself and tugged another teammate forward to join their group, and oh, god, Vincent was not ready for this.

His heart resumed trying to slam its way out of his ribcage and his vision went a bit black as his legs threatened to stop holding his weight at any moment. Mouth dry, body trembling, and he was more glad than ever that he'd not had time to eat a proper meal yet that day, because he wasn't at all convinced it wouldn't all be threatening to come back up. And wouldn't that make for a fabulous first introduction. "Hello, sorry my first act as your teammate was to vomit all over your boots, it's just that I think I've been a bit in love with you since I was sixteen years old and I'm not at all sure how to process any of this."

Instead, Vincent swallowed down the rising panic coursing through his entire body, hoped the wide smile threatening to take over his entire face didn't make him look like some sort of maniac, and stuck out a hand towards his new teammate.

He must not have looked overly threatening, because Christian--and here Vincent was already thinking of him as Christian in this overly familiar way, as though they were long-time friends or something--flashed him a shy smile in return, and it was all Vincent could do to hold himself together.

Breathe, Vincent. He's your teammate now. This stupid teenage crush was all well and good when you were sneaking about trying to pretend you absolutely detested all things Ajax, but you're not a teenager anymore and those days are over. You'll never make it here if you can't get past whatever this is and start acting like a god damned professional.

That harsh truth was all well and good, but it didn't mean Vincent's palm wasn't sweating and his knees weren't about to spontaneously give out from underneath him at any moment. He'd have to hope Christian either wouldn't notice or would think the slight sheen of sweat and the slick skin of his palm was just due to the heat of the day.

And then Christian's hand slid into Vincent's own, and Vincent's body hummed and buzzed with the feel of it, his mind spinning with all the times he'd imagined this--well, not quite this, so much as something a bit less appropriate for two people stood on a practice pitch surrounded by teammates, but that was perhaps beside the point. The feel of Christian Eriksen's skin against his own. Long, slender fingers brushing against Vincent's palm. Heat seemingly radiating from Christian's hand and spreading up Vincent's arm to his shoulder and eventually into every centimetre of Vincent's body.

“Uh…Christian. Eriksen. Chris. Good to meet you.”

He spoke in English, and it took Vincent a moment to even register the words. Voice so familiar in Vincent's ears, as though they'd shared thousands of conversations throughout the years instead of just a few mumbled words in passing.

Christian stared up at him, blue eyes wide, and from this distance, Vincent could see that they were shot through with flecks of grey and green and gold and so much more dazzling than he'd ever noticed before, and he had to force himself to look away a bit, changing his focus to stare down at their still clasped hands.

And oh, right...handshake. Doe normal, Vinny.

He forced his hand into motion, pumping Christian's arm up and down with perhaps a bit too much vigour, but he figured it was probably better that than standing there holding onto a teammate's hand while staring mesmerised into his eyes.

“I know this," he managed to say after a few seconds of trying to kickstart his brain into remembering how to form words. "That is...you are Christian Eriksen. So of course I know.”

Not his best work, really, but he supposed he should be glad anything came out of his mouth at all besides 'Hello, I think you're absolutely gorgeous. I'm not asking you out or anything, don't worry, it's just that it's something I've been thinking about for years now and I thought I should let you know.'

Still, Christian was looking a bit baffled and slightly overwhelmed at this point, so Vincent took a deep breath and started over. For whatever that was worth.

“Het spijt me," he said, the apology coming out in Dutch on instinct before he remembered that this was England.

"I was...at Almere for a time, " Vincent said by way of some kind of explanation. "I saw you play...with Ajax. You were...I...um...remember you. It is...an honour to meet you. I am looking forward to playing together.”

Not much better, but hopefully he'd saved himself from coming off as some kind of weird stalker and maybe at least earned himself a downgrade to oddly endearing superfan.

Except...he realised at that moment that he was still shaking Christian's hand and had been for a bit too long for it to come off as casual.

He released it, then flashed Christian an apologetic smile and dropped his eyes to the grass in between them, trying to regain some measure of composure--not that he was sure he'd had any in the first place, at least since the start of this conversation. He ended up, instead, staring at the fluorescent yellow and orange of Christian's boots. Which...was better than returning to gaze into his eyes, he supposed.

“I…” Christian said, dragging the word out a bit, as though uncertain of how to follow that up. Vincent didn't blame him. Nothing about this conversation was going the way Vincent had imagined it.

Which...didn't surprise him, really, but still. Every time he'd thought about his first real conversation with Christian, Vincent had remained cool and calm and composed--a bit distant and detached, as though he'd been about to do something else, but might as well blow it off for a brief exchange with someone moderately interesting. He'd been confident and alluring and had ended their brief exchange with the perfect witty send off, and hopefully an exchange of contact information so they could continue the conversation at a later date.

Instead he'd managed to linger too long over a handshake while his palm positively dripped with sweat, stare into his new teammate's eyes for a beat too long, and stumble through a litany of English words that made him sound like a bit of a twat.

Honestly, even though they were teammates now it would be a miracle if Christian ever initiated a conversation with him again.

“That’s...well...thank you?" Christian said, the end bit coming out as more of a question. Probably because he was beyond baffled by this entire situation. Vincent didn't blame him in the least. When he glanced back up at Christian--he might as well start getting used to carrying on what passed for a conversation while looking him in the face if they were going to be teammates--his expression was blank, his head tipped slightly to the side, his blue eyes wide as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

And damn, if Vincent wasn't going to have a hell of a time adjusting to that, he thought, as his blood once again started migrating towards his groin. He was still clad in a simple white t-shirt and jeans that had started out tight and were growing tighter by the second. Thankful, he supposed, that at least he hadn't been expected to change into training gear yet where the slightest sign of arousal would be more than apparent, he shifted his weight slightly in an attempt to at least re-adjust into a more comfortable position.

"Welcome to London," Christian said at last, releasing his bottom lip and quirking his mouth into a strained-looking smile. "And Spurs. Jan and Toby are also from Ajax, so...”

He trailed off, glancing around himself a bit as though seeking out his friends and former teammates. A buffer between himself and this oddly over-eager new teammate.

“Oh, yes, I know this," Vincent said. It almost certainly didn't make him come across as any less of an obsessed fan, but at least maybe he could pretend it extended to the entire club? And oh, Vinny, what would your friends think of you now? 'Yes, of course I love Ajax. What a club. My only regret is that I was never fortunate enough to be chosen as een Godenzoon.' Honestly, it was enough to make him a bit disgusted with himself.

Best change tactics before he got too far down that road to have any hope of getting himself out again. He may have long since lost any loyalty he'd once had to Feyenoord, but he'd rather quit playing football on the spot than proclaim his allegiance to Ajax.

“It will be nice to have friends here who know Amsterdam. I was not raised there, but I enjoyed my time in the city. I am so thankful to come to a club where I can feel like I have a piece of home as it were. You know?”

“Ja,” Christian responded, catching Vincent by surprise as he shifted their conversation into Dutch.

Not that Vincent wasn't well aware of Christian's proficiency with the language. He spoke it nearly as well as Vincent, judging from the promotional videos and post-match interviews he'd done during his time in Amsterdam.

“Let me know if I can help with anything,” Christian continued, his face and tone pleasantly neutral--one teammate welcoming another to a new city. “Where to eat, shopping--although that’s not really my thing, but I can try--if you want to know the best neighbourhoods for your house or anything. I mean, it’s not like I get out much, but I’ll do what I can.”

He'd always loved listening to Christian's Dutch--soft and silken and fluid, with the slightest hint of a slur around the edges of the syllables. It was no different now, although his accent had shifted a bit during his time in London. Still, Vincent was captivated by it, and found himself staring at Christian's lips as he spoke, much the way he'd always done when watching Christian's interviews on the screen.

“Your Dutch is good.”

And, honestly, Vinny? A mere, 'thank you for the offer, I will let you know' would have been fine. You were both finally starting to settle in a little bit and you had to go and make it uncomfortable again.

Thankfully, this actually earned him a surprised "oh"  and a small smile from Christian whose eyes flicked up to meet Vincent's once more before quickly darting away once more.

“Thank you. I feel it’s important to learn the language wherever you’re playing, so I worked on it a lot before I moved to Amsterdam. These three still correct me all the time, though.”

He tipped his head towards the trio standing behind him--Mousa, Jan, and Toby all of whom, by report, were seemingly inseparable both on and off the pitch.

“Because your pronunciation is terrible,” Toby teased and the others all laughed.

Christian opened his mouth to respond, but slammed it shut as Vincent dropped a hand to his shoulder. He hadn't meant to reach out for him like that, it had just sort of happened, his body moving on instinct, sliding into the sudden lighthearted ease of banter and teasing of the conversation.  It was an overly forward gesture, considering they'd only been speaking for a few moments, and Vincent readied himself to yank his hand away and offer profuse apologies as he felt Christian's breath hitch in surprise and his body tense. But Christian didn't pull away, so Vincent let his hand remain.

“Never listen to Belgians on the right way to pronounce Dutch,” Vincent told him, “I think your pronunciation is just fine.”

And, Godverdamme he definitely hadn't meant to sound that flirtatious. Once again, instinct had taken over and it had slipped out, his tone teasing and flitting and light and definitely not the right way to speak with anyone you were just meeting unless you planned on trying to take them home at the end of the night. Here Vincent was, trying it on with a teammate, no less.

He felt the hot flush creep into his cheeks at the thought, letting his hand drop from Christian's shoulder.

Christian's eyes widened even further before he ducked his head and stepped away from Vincent and towards the safety net of his friends.

He flicked a desperate glance to the side, swiveling his head slightly until his eyes fell on yet another teammate--this one with dark hair and a pale, squareish face. He reached out a hand towards the man and tugged him closer, much the way Jan had done to him what felt to Vincent like hours earlier, but in reality couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

The other man, for his part, let out a startled yelp and a shout of "oy, what the--?" but Christian seemed to pay him no mind. He all but shoved the man towards Vincent, all the while angling around to put the other man squarely between himself and Vincent.

“I...thanks," Christian said, his eyes still wide and his shoulders hunched in. "Um. Have you met Ben? You two should meet. I...I have to go, I’m sure I’ll see you at training this afternoon.”

With that, he'd flashed Vincent an awkward sort of half wave and then nearly tripped over his feet as he turned to jog quickly away towards the training centre, leaving Vincent, the three Belgians, and this new man--Ben, Vincent guessed--staring at one another in confusion.

No one said anything for a few moments until Ben flashed Vincent a dazzling grin full of perfectly straight, white teeth, stuck out a hand, and said in lilting English, "Well, that was something. Ben Davies, nice to meet you."

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Fight Me, Bite Me  Silas (RK900 x Gavin Reed) (Chapter Seven)

Authors Notes- And here I am back with another chapter of FMBM. Not going to lie but this chapter is kind of filler. I know not really something most people like. I was going to write smut for this chapter but it wasn’t working. But interestingly enough there will be smut in the next chapter. As for trigger warnings... I don’t think there are any. Now that we got that out of the way here is Chapter 7 I hope you enjoy none the less.

Chapter Seven: Recovery.

Gavin was finally being released from the hospital. Silas thought as he peered into Gavin’s room, watching as Gavin spoke quietly with his doctor. The Detective looking like it was taking all of his willpower not to bolt out of the room right then and there as he collected his stuff as the doctor left. It was obvious to Silas that the man in question wasn’t the biggest fan of hospitals, but then again, Silas mused as he worried at his bottom lip. The man didn’t seem to be fond of anything, except, as Silas found out weeks ago, and from what he witnessed whenever he visited him, was that Gavin seemed to be fond of his cats. Which Silas had made sure to take care of in Gavin’s absence, despite the reluctance of the man in question and the numerous assurances that Silas knew what he was doing. 

And hell, Silas had found himself amazed when he had stepped into Gavin’s small, one bedroom apartment and discovered that it wasn’t the cluttered shithole he had envisioned, in fact aside from a few dirty dishes in the sink and a few empty beer cans, one filled with cigarette ashes and butts. The place seemed warm, comforting, like how a home should be. At first Silas was sure that Gavin was messing with him when he had first stepped into the apartment, perhaps Gavin had given him the keys to someone else’s apartment and half expected the owners to come through the door demanding to know why he was there. However the various pictures lining the hallway wall soon put those doubts to rest. He remembered taking note of the pictures, seeing many of them featuring Gavin and his friends, some of them even featured him smiling. Not the humorless smirk he often reserved for Silas but a genuine smile. 

Silas had found himself staring at the picture for far longer, when the demanding cries of Gavin’s beloved cats had broke him out of his thoughts. Remembering his task Silas had done what he had come here to do, however as he left he couldn’t get the picture of Gavin’s smile out of his head. 

“Hey, dicknose you malfunctioning or something?” Gavin’s gruff voice jerked Silas from his reverie, shaking his head he looked down at the shorter man, seeing Gavin glaring at him from where he stood across from him.

“I’m sorry did you say something?”

“I said,” Gavin spat, rolling his eyes as he turned away from Silas. “That I was ready to go, what? Are your batteries running low or something?”

“I don’t run on batteries.” Silas said sounding indignant as he moved to follow after him. 

“I kinda of gathered, you’d have nowhere to put them, expect maybe up your ass  if it wasn’t for the giant stick shoved up there.” Gavin laughed. as Silas bristled a little as he moved to follow him.

“I see your charming wit is still intact.” Silas commented, helping Gavin into the car, ignoring the Detective’s protests that he could get in his own damn car himself before climbing into the driver seat. Yet again ignoring the protests from Gavin when the man told him that he could drive himself. 

“But you really shouldn’t, Detective. Not until you’re fully healed.” Silas insisted.

At that Gavin couldn’t help but scowl at him. But said nothing, after all there was no point in arguing with him, when Silas seemed to set his mind to it, Gavin mused as he turned his gaze to the window. After what seemed like forever they arrived at his apartment. The two of them walking to Gavin’s apartment in silence.

“You don’t have to follow me in.” Gavin grumbled as he opened the door to his apartment, greeting his mewing cats sweetly before turning his attention to Silas, frown etched on his face.

“I was ordered by Captain Fowler to assist you in your recovery.” Silas said.

“So now you’re a nursemaid now?” Gavin asked, wincing as he struggled to get his jacket off. Scowling as Silas helped him once more, why could he just leave him alone? “I’m not some cripple I can take care of myself.”

“It looked like you needed some help.” 

“You do, Detective.” Silas insisted.

Letting out a frustrated sigh Gavin pushed past Silas. Like he had noted before there was no point in arguing with a hunk of plastic, moving towards the kitchen he opened his fridge grabbing the half eaten carton of Chinese food before making his way to his living room, his cats hot on his trail as he plopped unceremoniously into the love seat in middle of the living room. Silas watching him the whole him, it kinda unnerved him. Was this what people who had androids before the revolution endured? Having a hunk of plastic staring at them while they went about their lives, dead eyes constantly watching them? Creepy!

Shaking his head he reached for the remote and turned on the TV. Trying in vain to ignore the android milling around his apartment. 

As Gavin busied himself with watching TV Silas took it upon himself to clean up his kitchen. Silence falling over the two of them for the rest of the night.

***

Sitting outside the hospital Milo watched as the man of the hour appeared outside the hospital. His android nanny following faithfully behind him, funny. Milo mused as he looked to the android, he was under the assumption that Gavin hated androids, given how Gavin had reacted to him back then. Anger swelled in his chest as memories of that time flashing through his mind. He couldn’t let go, he could never let go. Despite how Iris often plead him to. 

He would eventually let go, when this was all over. But for now people were going to suffer, Gavin was going to suffer. Gritting his teeth he turned away, forcing his anger towards the man to die down as he thought about his little gift in one of Detroit’s many parks. He wondered what Gavin would think when he found out that their killer, the very one Gavin seemed obsessed with was still alive and kicking, how would he react? Biting down on his bottom lip Milo got into his car and drove off, smile never leaving his face. He couldn’t wait for them to continue their little game...

***

Captain Fowler’s day just couldn’t get any worst. He had sincerely thought this was over. He thought he could put this case behind him, and finally give Gavin the promotion the man so desired. Hell, he deserved it, and Fowler had dangled it above his head when it came to this case. And he was so certain it was over, he had hoped it had been over when Gavin had been injured, when the killer had died.

And yet here he was staring at the most recent crime scene photos of their most recent murder victim. This was supposed to be over! Gritting his teeth he sighed, easing himself back in his seat he reached for his phone. Gavin needed to know...

[lolablackwrites]

Sacrifices - Drake x MC

Summary: After meeting Savannah and hearing her story, MC (Riley Mason) realizes what she has to do for the man she loves.

Notes: This a fic requested by @storiesbehindyoureyes from the New Kiss Fics prompt list, #20: the “everything hurts right now including being loved by you, but you’re also the only thing that makes it feel better” kiss. Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy it! :-)

I’m still accepting requests from this list, so if you want to read something, let me know! Thank you for your requests! ❤️

Fanfic Master List

“Dinner in fifteen minutes,” Maxwell said as they stopped outside Riley’s bedroom compartment on the train. “Unless you want to go now? I’m starving.”

Riley forced a smile but shook her head. If she didn’t get into her bedroom alone, she thought she was going to burst into tears where she stood and she didn’t want to explain that to Maxwell, not now. Maybe not ever.

“I’ve been traipsing around Paris all day in these clothes, I think I should change into something else,” Riley said. Maxwell grinned.

“See, that’s why you’ve got to go for an all black ensemble,” Maxwell said as he gestured to his outfit. “Black hides the dirt.”

“But not the smell.”

Surprised, Maxwell sniffed under one of his arms and then immediately recoiled, wrinkling his nose.

“Okay, maybe I’ll change, too. Meet you in the dining car?” he asked. Riley nodded and Maxwell left, leaving her with her own thoughts. She quickly opened the door to her bedroom and hurried inside, doing her best not to slam the sliding door behind her. Any loud noises might arouse suspicion. Once closed, she leaned against the door, slumped to the floor, and started to sob. She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the great having cries that wracked her body while tears streamed over her fingers and down her forearm.

There was no other way. It had to be like this.

At first she’d been so happy to find Savannah, so happy for Drake to finally find his sister. He smiled so rarely and to watch him meet his nephew . . . Riley was so in love with Drake’s smile. Then there had been the elevator after they’d left Savannah’s apartment:

“Thanks for showing me how to hold Bartie,” Drake said. “You’re a natural with kids.”

“Hey, you’re not so bad yourself,” Riley said. “He warmed up to you really quickly, and babies are good judges of character.”

“I guess I’ll take it as a good sign for the future,” Drake said. “Maybe I’ll be an okay dad--as long as you’re there to help me out.”

Riley’s grinned at those words and she grinned as hopeful fantasies fluttered through her mind: Drake sweeping her into a hug when she told him she was expecting; Drake kissing her swollen belly and talking to their baby; watching Drake hold their baby for the first time. She kissed him as the numbers in the elevator ticked down to the lobby, his calloused palms brushing her cheeks.

“That sounds perfect,” she said.

But after Maxwell had joined them and they’d begun the limo ride back towards the train, a devastating thought had occurred to Riley: being with Drake, especially in the forever kind of way that she wanted, would be impossible. There were too many people relying on her to take a different path. Riley leaned her head back against the door to her bedroom and stared at the ceiling, her eyes following the textured paint whorls. How had this happened? She had just been a waitress in a bar and now here she was, crying in a train with the future security of at least four people contingent on her becoming a queen.

When it had just been Maxwell and Bertrand, it had been easier to envision a different kind of life for herself, a life with Drake. After everything the Beaumonts had done for her, she wanted to help them but if things didn’t work out with Liam, Riley had convinced herself that they would be okay. But that was before. Now that she knew about Savannah and Bartie, everything was different. Drake’s sister and his nephew were entirely dependent on the Beaumonts for survival and Riley knew she couldn’t turn her back on them in favor of her own selfish desires. True, there were many single moms all over the world who didn’t have someone bankrolling an expensive apartment and high end clothes who made it work, but Riley had a feeling that Savannah was unlikely to get a job anytime soon. However, none of that was Bartie’s fault--why should he have to suffer just because of his mother? Riley tried to tell herself that none of this was her problem, that Savannah and the Beaumonts should figure out their own lives like adults, but then she closed her eyes and thought of Drake holding his nephew. Riley couldn’t just turn her back on Bartie and Savannah because they were a part of Drake and he was a part of her.

Drake stretched out beside her in the narrow train bed, his skin still damp with sweat from the exertion. Riley curled her naked body around his, her body still echoing with the aftershock of pleasure.

“I love you,” he said. Those words still sent a thrill through her stomach every time he said them.

“I love you, too,” she said as she kissed him, pressing her lips to his smile.

They stayed in each other’s arms until the rocking of the train had finally lulled them to sleep.

Had that really only been last night? With everything she’d learned today, their last tryst felt like another lifetime.

Riley stood up, wiping her tear-slicked hands on her jeans. She had to pull herself together, she couldn’t show up at the dining car with her face all red and puffy. Riley took a washcloth and ran it under the faucet at the small sink in the corner before she pressed it to her face. The cold fabric was a relief against her hot skin as the terry cloth wiped away the tears she’d cried. She draped the washcloth over the edge of the sink basin and rifled through her bag until she found some clean clothes to change into. Without the press around, she was fairly certain Bertrand wouldn’t object to her wearing jeans to dinner. Or, at least, he wouldn’t object too much.

Riley had just pulled a fresh t-shirt on when she heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said, glancing quickly at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. She didn’t look great, but she didn’t look awful either. The door slid aside to reveal Drake standing there.

“Hey,” he said. “I thought I’d escort you to the dining--are you okay?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes, why?” Riley asked, keeping her voice calm. Seeing Drake standing there, looking so beautiful and relaxed, was almost too much to bear, but she knew she had to keep her feelings in check for the time being.

“Your face is all red . . . have you been crying?” Drake asked as he quickly crossed the room to meet her, gently cupping her face in his hands.

“Oh, no, I was just washing my face,” Riley lied as she gestured to the washcloth as proof. Drake visibly sighed with relief.

“Okay, good,” he said, the smile returning to his face. “Hey, thanks for convincing me to stay today and talk to Savannah. Without you, I might’ve made a mistake and left and then I would’ve missed out on this.” Drake pulled the photo of him and his sister with her son out of his back pocket. Riley looked at the picture of the man she loved and his family, the reasons she was going to have to give up Drake and pursue a life with someone else. It wasn’t like she’d be stuck with someone horrible; Liam was great, wonderful in fact--but he wasn’t Drake and never would be.

“Mason,” Drake whispered. “Mason, wake up.”

“Hmm?” Riley asked, trying to pull herself out of a dream. “What time is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Drake said. “3:00? Maybe 3:30?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Drake said. “I just . . . I had to talk to you about something and I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Oh, yeah? What sort of something?” Riley asked as she grinned and ran a hand down the length of his naked body. Drake smiled and took her hand in his, kissing her fingers.

“No, it’s something else,” he said as she sat up. There wasn’t much room in Riley’s narrow bed on the train, but she followed suit and sat up as well.

“Is everything okay?” she asked. Drake took her hands in his.

“We’ve talked a lot about how to clear your name, but we haven’t talked very much about what’s going to happen after we do. And really, I have no idea because it’s impossible to be sure of much of anything. But the one thing I am sure of is how much I love you and how much I want to be with you.” Drake leaned over the edge of the bed to reach his jeans, which lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. He pulled something out of the pocket and held it out to Riley. She squinted in the semi-darkness and saw a thin leather cord tied into a circle. “I know it’s not much and I promise I’ll get you something much better in the future, but just think of it as a placeholder for now.”

“A placeholder?” Riley asked, her voice barely a whisper as the realization of what was happening washed over her.

“Riley Mason, will you marry me?” Drake asked. He’d barely gotten the words out when Riley grabbed him and kissed him, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” she whispered between kisses. “And don’t you dare replace that ring.”

“I kind of wish you’d been in the photo with us,” Drake said, a blush flooding his cheeks. “I mean, it’s a family photo, and you and I are . . . well, I guess there’s going to be enough time later for photos. A whole lifetime in fact.”

“Hey, this reunion was about you and your sister and getting to meet your nephew,” Riley said, trying to push away the ache in her chest.

Drake returned the photo to his back pocket before he leaned down and kissed Riley. She clung to him, pressing her lips to his with a desperate intensity while she wished that everything else would disappear and that she could live in this moment for the rest of her life.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Drake asked, studying her. “You seem off somehow.”

Riley nodded.

“It’s just been a long day,” she lied again, unable to tell him the truth. The lie was easier at the moment and it didn’t hurt as much. Riley knew she’d have to tell him sooner rather than later, but she convinced herself that “sooner” didn’t mean “now.”

“Let’s go get some dinner,” she suggested. “If we don’t go soon, Maxwell might eat everything before we get there.”

Drake rolled his eyes but he gave her one more kiss.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said. Riley followed him out of her bedroom and as she watched him walk before her, she felt tears pricking at her eyes again but she forced the feeling away. There’d be more than enough time for tears later. A lifetime’s worth without him.

[247krp]

— Rejoice, little lambs! We have recovered our own Min Yoongi, spotted prancing about in the Southwest Side. I remember seeing him with The Decadent Intellectuals back in high school, but I’m not here to spill yesterday’s tea. So straight to the rundown: can you say dedicated and defensive? Apparently now he spends time as a producer and songwriter at AOMG Records, and keeps skeletons buried at Prague Tower, 901. But those won’t stay hidden for long, if you and I have any say on it. Welcome back, The Babydoll; we missed you so.

TW: drug abuse, allusion to rape, sexual assault

In case you don’t remember the devil’s name, here’s to refresh your memory:

during his cheongnam days. yoongi was always the “quietly smart” type of guy. discussions of the wildest party last night bored him to tears, not to mention the crude discussions of sex. however, maintaining his public image ( at least, his family’s image ) is key. so he smiles and laughs where appropriate, intervening in their wild behavior only when absolutely necessary, he was still on the student council after all. he disappeared for a few months & rumors went wild. in truth, he was in a car accident which damaged his mind and not his body. his friend was dead. that took yoongi a while to process, admittedly with the help of alcohol. he’d get a girl for a few months then dump her for the sake of appeasing his parents, but his true lover was a male, a senior also looking for thrills and to escape his suffocating family.

Nevermind the memory lane though, the present is always the ripest fruit:

just as secretive as his high school counterpart, ( if not more ) the producer is rarely seen anywhere except at his dwelling and his studio. reclusive and still painfully quiet, he buries his secrets with his successes at the company & shies away from the spotlight even when he yearns for the fame. he’s a man of contradictions, really. haunted by his past and trying to move on, he rarely communicates with his family. all he really knows is that his father who has probably never really loved him is dead, thanks to his own neglect; his mother is a shell of her former self but still an amazing actress from the looks of it & his brother hates his guts and is a criminal. and yoongi? he’s a ceramic doll. fragile but still determined to make some sort of use in the world with his talents.

But we are nothing if not open books – my job is to ensure you get to the best pages:

i.

destined, star-crossed, meant to be

apparently, those were the words used to describe yoongi’s parents during their own schooling career. and looking at photos taken during high school, that was certainly the case. the min brothers descends from a long line of academic intellectuals, a galaxy of stars waiting for them to join the ranks of. and join, they did. jangmi, the creative director of one of south korea’s highest grossing fashion magazines and jaekuk, the ceo of the largest hospital in seoul.

remove the mask of any perfect family and only pain, deception & self destruction remains.

the same is true for the mins. the firstborn son was named donghae, a cheerful baby with a foot in his father’s shoes as soon as he was born. their second go at a child dashed the couple’s happiness, a soon to be daughter becoming a miscarriage instead. tensions arose from the incident, pushing the two apart and to work harder. as a result, the current only child was pampered but neglected, an interesting mix of caretaking which leaves him with well-masked anger issues and resentment for his younger brother.

ii.

since donghae already showed signs of being talented academically, his parents were much more lenient towards yoongi. the miscarriage of her daughter evidently scarred min jangmi, who seemed to envision yoongi becoming the perfect “daughter”, to replace her lost daughter. this suited the young child fine, he was getting the love & attention of his mother anyways. this care manifested in a strange fashion, what with her treating him like something breakable.

however, his father and brother were not happy with this & made it clear that they disapproved of yoongi being dressed like a girl. his brother felt like he was justified to take his anger out on the younger boy, frequently battering him with verbal and physical blows.

really, it’s no wonder that yoongi is somewhat fucked up.

iii.

his babysitter acted as his tutor too. she taught him to place distrust before trust, to keep his mouth shut. yoongi’s parents were blind to the fact that the lady they hired to nurture their youngest son was frequently sexually assaulting him. she would be nice one day & turn into a monster the next, just like flipping a switch.

yoongi kept quiet; his parents won’t believe him anyways.

he was enrolled into primary school at the same time his brother was finishing up high school. apart from attending the private institution and being surrounded by snobbish kids all the time, yoongi was also being tutored at home. violin, english, dance, piano, classic literature, japanese… you name it, he’s probably done it.

iv.

with parents rarely at home, the two siblings avoid each other as much as possible, spending time away from the penthouse while the other was there. It was during these years when yoongi uncovered his father’s drug use habits. he never confronts his father about it. ( yoongi can’t blame the guy )

the press would have a field day with this kind of information.

so he sews his mouth shut, plastering on a mask of nonchalance to everyone & everything. he was privileged to be living a life like this. what was the cost of a silver spoon? if it means taking his secrets to the grave, yoongi’s not so sure if he wants to pay the price.

v.

yoongi’s own cheongnam days come eventually. the student parliament has a seat waiting for him, what with grandfather min being the principle and all. yoongi attends after-school activities and buries himself in the arts. he mucks around with a few girls to appease his parents, but he becomes attached to none of them.

naturally, he joins the ranks of the group known as the “decadent intellectuals”, thanks to gossip girl. no other little clique appealed to him. the emergence of the infamous figure terrified him, to be frank. he really should’ve considered putting himself away from the spotlight, but the choice was really made for him as soon as he stepped into the hallways of cheongnam.

donghae moves out at the first opportunity but not before threatening to kill yoongi if his secret ever gets out. not like yoongi has the guts to do so anyways. yoongi can never look at her in the eyes without remembering her screams for help on that day, and how he just walked away from his brother committing the crime.

all of these ghosts will haunt him forever.

vi.

his therapist doesn’t even know how fucked up he is.

he feels sorry for the guy sometimes. the man definitely has his own guesses, but yoongi is a tough patient to crack. he’s just out of the poshest damn school in seoul and already hiding a barrage of issues. breaking open his exterior might just lead to the young man completely breaking apart.

he moves out after graduation too. money obviously isn’t a problem, but he opens a separate bank account for whatever he’s earned apart from his parents. finding a job which allowed him to separate from his parents’ influence seemed to be a difficult prospect.

who knew posing in front of a camera would earn him so much money?

he’s always known that his good looks were an advantage given to him by virtue of luck, but yoongi saw no point in not exploiting it to his advantage. so he mucks around for a few years & goes from making 850 thousand won per week to becoming a millionaire on his own terms. on the side, he gave piano and violin tutoring to unfortunate kids forced to play the instrument on the whims of their parents.

vii.

the next family reunion is around min jaekuk’s open coffin.

a powerful man, supposedly struck down by a heart attack. yoongi knew better. it was most likely an overdose. he dully wondered how many lives were on his hands now. he should know better than to blame himself, but he still lives with the guilt. jangmi tries to hug him. he lets her, arms staying limp at his side. she attempts to guilt-trip him, but yoongi already knows what she’ll say. he doesn’t spare his brother or father a glance.

entering aomg was pretty simple. having such a wealthy family means links to virtually anywhere & keys to all sorts of doors. not revealing his former occupation would only mean trouble for later, so he was open and frank in his admission to having whored himself out digitally. but really, all he wants now is some peace and quiet. but that seems pretty damn hard too, what with gossip girl back from the dead.

[losttalongthewayy]

everything

— ღ   —

It’s late, the nursery nearly pitch black but for the soft, faint purple-ish glimmer of the nightlight in the corner.

Emma can just barely tell where he is in the dark of the small room, but she knows he’s here with them —he always is.

He’s sat on the floor, she knows, uncomfortable as can be, but unmovable just the same. His back against the closet’s door, legs unfolded in front of him, his face in his hand.

It’s been a long day; a day of waiting, a day of worrying and pacing and sickness abounds.

They are home now though, have been for a few hours, and while the little bundle in Emma’s arms has been asleep and settled for almost as many hours as they’ve been home, there’s nothing humanly capable of separating them from their daughter right now.

They haven’t said anything for what seems forever, both sat in silence in the darkness of their baby’s room, the sounds of white noise filling in for any type of conversation. It’s an oddity they’ve grown used to by now; a white noise machine their kid seems unable to fall sleep peacefully without. It’s peaceful for them both right now too, despite everything. They’re home, they are together, and given time, the baby should bounce back to her normal self.

Things are good again, she thinks; their daughter is on the mend, and perhaps they should rest too; put her down in her crib, change clothes, perhaps even eat, and shower.

Even as she’s thinking it though, Emma knows none of those things are happening any time soon.

She’s going to hold her kid for as long as she has to and when she inevitably tires and physically can’t hold her anymore, Emma knows Killian is still going to be right there to hold onto that baby for her.

Nothing can keep them from their daughter right now, and truly,  they wouldn’t want it any other way.

— ღ   —  

It’s a few moments later that he speaks. Emma only startles a little when Killian’s voice breaks the silence, his voice is barely a whisper though.

It’s a question she’s not entire sure was even directed at her —perhaps it was a simple question he was asking himself…

“Is it all you hoped it would be?”

It’s an impossible question to answer though.

Estella is all of eighteen months old right now. They’ve been parents to this baby for all of eighteen months.

Once upon a time, they aimed to do this right. Create something good. Raise and love and cherish a little someone of their own from the very start.

It’s been everything ever since.

It’s also been the hardest thing they’ve ever done.

It isn’t the idyllic baby commercial with the perfect little babe that smiles and sleeps and never cries.

It’s endless split-ups and sore boobs at the beginning.

Diaper explosions and a baby that forgets how to nap for more than a half hour the second she turns four months old.

It’s not knowing what the hell you are doing, but still doing it anyway.

It’s thinking (and believing) you’re doing everything wrong and fucking up your own baby.

It’s unparalleled fear when that very baby they hoped for so much, decides to come early and everything that could have gone wrong.

It’s eighteen months of broken sleep.

It’s tiredness like they haven’t known before.

It’s singing the wheels on the bus more times than a human should be allowed to.

It’s two weeks and counting of absolutely no sleep unless she’s in their arms or in their bed.

It’s tantrums and long days that sometimes seem endless.

It’s a blur, but also the most incredible eighteen months they’ve ever had.

It’s love that’s is so familiar, yet love that they’ve never come across before —all at the same time.

It’s a milk drunk newborn completely passed out on your chest for hours.

It’s that first gummy smile when you least expected it.

That first actual giggle and laugh that made them both tear up because they made that baby, and she laughs.

It’s the million and one times Killian strapped the baby to his chest because there was absolutely nothing else in the world that could soothe Estella in the evenings.

It’s living a million firsts through the eyes of a tiny human of their very own.

It’s the first time they took her to the beach or the park. The first time she sat on the grass, the first time she tried to eat the grass. The first time they put her on the swings even though she was still too small and the baby essentially glared at them from the ‘bloody contraption’ the entire time they kept her there.

It’s seeing her parents doting on their baby girl like it’s the most natural thing —perhaps even reclaiming just that tiny little bit of the babyhood they were robbed with Emma herself.

It’s the first time they fed Estella actual food and the ridiculous amount of people that insisted they be there to witness it.

It’s a photo library filled completely with pictures of her kid, no matter how much she thought she wasn’t going to be that parent.

Is turning on the monitor when Killian’s putting her to sleep because the mean and fearsome Captain Hook singing to his baby girl to sleep simply doesn’t get old.

It’s their sweet mellow baby girl turning into a cheeky rambunctious baby girl without them noticing.

It’s food spilled on the floor and the sweetest, cheekiest grin you ever did see on a ninth month old baby.

It’s dresses and hair bows and tiny itty bitty socks she always manages to lose.

It’s Estella’s ability to keep winter beanies on her head, all day long, despite everyone telling Emma babies always put on a fight for things on their heads.

It’s taking Estella to work and watch her destroy entire hours of work in three seconds flat.

It’s saying ‘screw it’ more often than not and sit on the floor with her and whatever mess she’s created instead.

Is seeing Killian’s ship turned into a part time nursery with all the damn baby things he now keeps there.

It’s taking the baby sailing that first time and every single time since.

It’s every holiday she gets to actually celebrate now —because she has a family to celebrate with at last.

It’s missing her son fiercely— always, every day— but still seeing him sometimes in the way Estella’s eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles.

It’s the first time she said mama

It’s her excited little self the second her eyes land on dada after he comes home from work.

It’s an actual baby car seat in the backseat of her bug.

It’s celebrating those first steps she took as though no baby before her has ever taken steps on their own.

It’s freaking out about childproofing after that first time Estella almost took a fall on the stairs.

It’s fighting back tears every time their kid is actually hurting and there’s nothing they can do.

It’s sleepy cuddles and Saturday morning cartoons.

It’s that first time she let Estella try a wee bit of her hot cocoa after an especially chilly walk out by the docks.

It’s being starved, yet making her kid’s grilled cheese before hers, and even smile as the baby munches on the thing while her own stomach churns with hunger.

It’s watching Killian sneaking mushy veggies on their meals in an attempt to save Estella (and Emma) from developing scurvy.

It’s rocking your sick baby girl to sleep no matter your own exhaustion because she’s her kid, and she’s her mother.

It’s messy hair and morning giggles that make smile even the grumpiest one there is.

It’s knowing better than going to get her in the middle of the night when she cries, because she’s one and a half and she should sleep through the night, but Estella’s her baby and who the hell is going to stop Emma from going anyway.

It’s love like never before.

It’s not even remembering a time the little room beside their bedroom wasn’t hers.

It’s laughter, giggles, and cries— every day, sometimes simultaneously.

It’s everything she thought it would be.

But then it’s also nothing she could have ever imagined.

Not even close.

“It’s way more than I thought it was going to be, Killian…”

Killian doesn’t quite reply, but Emma can swear she hears him humming in agreement.

She smiles. “What about you?” She whispers. “Everything you hoped it’d be?”

He’s quiet again for the longest time, but then Emma hears him shifting on his spot and he says, “It’s nothing I could have ever envisioned love…” There’s a small pause before he carries on. “It’s everything…”

[bonniejstarks]

I’m BACK! Why I’ve been gone and what I’ve been up to – Ania.B

It’s been so so long my friends. I would apologize BUT it was time well deserved and much needed. I did not walk away from my blog, far from it. We have been busier than ever and growing a business is no easy feat. Burn out is a word we are all familiar with, a catch all for millennials and the world’s problems. But burn out is all too real and we encounter the topic often especially when talking to fellow creators. Entrepreneurial spirit speaks to so many of us who can not handle the 9-5 grind, but who are we kidding, the grind is actually more intense when you work for yourself. I am excited to finally be able to check in with you on the world wide web again. Instagram is great and all but there is only so much you can say in a limited amount of characters. In truth the blog was broken for a few months, fixing it was put off for far too long. I even started taking coding classes just so this never has to happen again. Ask me in 6 months how that is going! It did end up being a much needed break. Self love is all about knowing when to stop just as much as it is about when to pick up again.

In the time away from the web browser I was able to focus some more attention on myself, and I wish I could tell you that I joined some bad ass classes and got a black belt in karate, or that I am now a champion chess player, but instead I took time to spend with my family, organize my life a little bit, and even though it’s not karate we did join a gym to keep moving and stay healthy, and my brother and nephew came along for the ride so we can all motivate each other. None of us is a stranger to how fast that motivational flame can extinguish when your heart and soul is just not on that elliptical with you. This post is a little glimpse into that journey. I won’t lie, it’s not been the Rocky training montage I was envisioning in my head but I will give us credit for getting to that gym somewhat regularly. Travel is not included and to be fair that does cut a lot into our work-out time. It’s being at home that’s keeping us out of shape: editing at a desk or in bed, sometimes all day everyday, driving everywhere and generally not accounting for energy gained vs. energy lost. I also have to shamefully admit that with age your body does after all require different kinds of love then it did when it was in it’s teens. ‘They’ tell you this all the time, but nobody ever listens. Well I’m here to tell you that ‘They’ are totally right and I think my time has come. It’s been an adjustment, especially because our lives are so irregular and quite literally go against any kind of routine.

Besides getting the fam on board for motivation I have been picking up my Apple Watch so much more often these last few months. Ever since our Whistler adventure getting to know the watch environment I have been so much more confident in the benefits it has been bringing to our lives. Of course fall detection for my mum has been critical and with the most recent series 5 launch we also now have EKG available in Canada to monitor the heart whenever we need it. The idea of closing our activity rings has also been integral to the the way we view time spent moving all together. We will pick up and go for a walk or take a moment to breathe thanks to the stats we get on the Apple Watch. If you watched the Apple Keynote  you will know about this year’s addition of the titanium and ceramic watch faces, both to be worn in very different ways (one more stylish and streamlined, the other optimized for performance and lightweight, can you guess which is which?). The biggest news this year for the watch has been the alway-on-display, which has been highly requested, though as a the watch wearer I was never bothered by the on/off jerk action you needed to make to see the display AND there has been some talk about the battery life being affected as a result, something which the jury is still out on, if you ask me. Some other new and very useful features include a built in compass and cycle tracking for women, the watch no longer takes data from our phones but has it available in the device itself,  the two are becoming more and more independent of each other so you will not longer need the phone to have full functionality of your watch. And just to put things in perspective, a fertility watch alone can set you back $400! If you are still rocking the series 3 watch and wondering if you need to upgrade the answer is 100% yes! These are some game changing features that you do not want to miss out on and having them all in one place and on your wrist no less is the future of technology we could only dream about when we were using our calculator Casio watches in elementary school!

As for working out, I am still working through my bodies capabilities. My 16 year old nephew proved to be quite a personal trainer and knows everything there is to know about how to work the human body. I loved being able to learn something from him. My current circuit includes the treadmill, bicep and tricep curls, squats, sit ups, and when my back has had enough of those (which as it turns out it does more often than I’d like to admit) I will switch those out for suspended leg lifts. I have also been playing around with the Nike Training Club (NTC) app for some suggested exercises to keep myself from the monotony of a routine, from which, as I mentioned earlier, I am so far removed. And for those of you curious to peek into this aspect of our lives, or just to relate, send me a DM and a follow request on my private account @healthyania. I’m hoping to keep this as a space for myself to track progress, document my favourite ways around the gym and just to stay accountable. Cue ‘Eye of the Tiger’ on my ‘Beast Mode’ playlist!

All of these photos were shot on the iPhone 11, eliminating the consumer camera market one phone release at a time! xoxo

Tags: Apple, Apple Watch, fitness, health, tech

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