#it has been sitting in my drafts since december and i decided to stop being a baby about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taegris · 3 years

Text

A WRECK LIKE THIS

Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: apocalypse, quarantine, disease, pandemic, angst, major character death, anxiety/childhood trauma, horror, blood, gun, COVID-19, violence, cursing, grief, long death, reanimated (?)/ post mortem talk, unfortunate slow burn :/

Insp: Old Yeller by Joji (specifically, a tiktok by emeryhoneys using this audio that has since been deleted. :/ )

Playlist

Summary: You and Jungkook met online during the COVID-19 pandemic, and have been friends ever since, through everything. You each watched as the other healed from the trauma caused by growing up through such catastrophic events, and supported each other through it all. So when a new virus quickly starts to spread, you turn to each other to survive, making promises to each other that you later find very hard to keep.

Author’s note:

This oneshot has heavy themes and viewer discretion is strongly advised. While I have a warning list, I want to reiterate;please don’t read this if you are affected by death, violence, heavy grieving, and anything to do with disease. I know that this is a sensitive topic today and I would like to remind you that while this world is scary, the world I am showing in this story is entirely fictional and is not meant to reflect on what will happen during recent historical events, as it is entirely imagined. Thank you for reading and as always, if you have any questions or comments, my ask box is open. Thanks!

A HUGE THANK YOU to @kookoosbunnynose, @kinktae, and @cheeky-kookie for beta-reading the initial drafts of this monster of a project I have been working on forever lol. Y’all are the reason I kept going, seriously, and I appreciate each of your feedback and support so incredibly much.

20 December 2029, 03:35 PM

The trees are wilting.

Perhaps it is the lack of rain, perhaps the smog plaguing the cityscape you’re surrounded by, perhaps it’s too cold again, after a false spring. The image scares you though, and with the recent global situation, you could have used a nice depiction of the outside world.

You choose to look at the artificial grass instead, hearty plants laced with plastic that stay green year round. A blessing and a curse, you decide, to have a grey landscape with the only beacon of life being something so fabricated. Instead of a comfort, it feels like an omen.

You can’t stop yourself from looking once more at your phone.

BREAKING NEWS: REVII-29 OUTBREAK SPREADS TO EUROPE

You lock your screen as fast as you can, squeezing your eyes tight, banishing the notification from your mind. Your anxiety got the best of you, again. Frustrated, you struggle to regain your composure. You attempt to count the ducks in the manmade pond across the way from the bench you’re sitting on.

Four. No, five. One of them was too small to see at first, but he’s there.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head to the left to see Jungkook running up to you from the winding path, smiling brightly in your direction.

“Hey!” you say, standing just in time for a bone crushing hug. Your body relaxes in his embrace, and suddenly . . . shit’s not so scary anymore.

“Did you see the news?” he says, catching his breath and pointing his phone screen to you, eyes glinting.

“Yeah, I did.” You say back, returning your gaze to the ducks.

“Well… did you see that he’s recovering?”

You turn to him, eyes wide. “Who?”

“The first victim! His vitals are improving dramatically. According to the doctors, he should make a full recovery.”

You smile, sitting back on the bench below you. “Really?”

He ruffles your hair, a grin on his face. “Yeah, really. Why would I lie about that stuff?”

“I don’t know.” you say, looking down at your feet. He sits next to you, gazing out to the pond. It’s silent for a moment.

“How many?” he asks, gesturing over to the ducks. You look to him.

“Five.”

“Five?”

“Yeah, there’s one hiding behind the one on the right. Why?”

“You count when you’re anxious.” he smiles, catching your gaze. You frown. “What’s going on in that head of yours, dove?”

You sigh and suck in a breath, turning back to him.

“I’m trying to stay level headed and not look at the propaganda, it’s just… it’s scary, you know? It’s only been a week, and it’s already spread so quickly-”

“Hey,” he starts, eyes gazing firmly into yours and hands pressed gently to your shoulders. “Let’s remind ourselves of what we know, yeah?” You take a deep breath in. “What are the symptoms again? Coughing, fever, headaches. . .”

“Cases are now showing paralysis as well.”

“Yeah, that’s right. But no death. There hasn’t been a single death from this disease since the outbreak. It’s just some new flu or-”

“But paralyzed.”

“Yes,” a small frown appears on his face.

“Which makes it harder for those with breathing issues to breathe, and, like, ANYONE to eat or shower or sleep or get help-”

“Yes, but- nobody is dying. Okay?” he searches your eyes for any signs of distress, before smiling kindly and placing a comforting hand on the side of your face. “Nobody’s gonna die.”

It’s silent for a moment as you feel the weight lift from your heart and you lean into his hand, a smile spreading across your face. You lift your head and start to fix your hair, which has now been completely disheveled. Jungkook smirks at that, returning his gaze to the water.

“Why do you insist on fucking up my hair?” you whine with a pout.

“Your hair was fucked up before I got here.”

“Hey!” you hit him and he laughs, doubling over at the waist. You can’t help but laugh as well, abs hurting from the joy you feel. Finally it dies down, and Jungkook stands, brushing himself off before jogging down the path once more.

“Let’s go! Come on!” he encourages.

“Wait up!” you call, frantically tying your laces.

“You’re slow!” he calls back, rounding the corner. You groan, quickly tying off the knot in your shoelaces and sprinting after him.

15 January 2030, 01:33 PM

“Fuck yeah!” Jungkook cheers, jumping up and down on the grass. You groan, your footsteps stilling on the pavement.

“You cheated.” you grumble, bending down to retie your shoelace.

“How do you cheat at running?” Jungkook teases, bending to your level.

“I don’t know exactly, but you figured it out,” you pout, standing back up to sulk. He laughs and walks up to you, offering a hug. You cave and find yourself in his arms.

“Maybe next time, dove.” he muses, holding you close. You pull away to look up at him.

“Yeah, if you don’t cheat.”

“Maybe you should run faster,” he flicks your forehead, making your eyebrow furrow.

“Hey!” you smack him and he laughs, playfully jogging away from you. You go to chase after him when your phone starts blaring an alarm.

ATTENTION: FIRST VICTIM OF REVII-29 FOUND DEAD IN HIS HOME. CITY WIDE QUARANTINE WILL BE IMPLEMENTED IN 12 HOURS.

Your blood runs cold.

“Not again,” you whisper, starting to shake.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Jungkook calls, his voice sounding far away. Your body barely registers his grip on your shoulders as your vision pulsates, breaths uneven and shallow. One of his hands drops from your shoulder to pick up your phone. When he sees the alert, you hear him sigh in frustration and fear.

“Y/N!” Jungkook’s voice snaps him into focus again in front of you, eyebrows knit together with concern. Your lip trembles, and you wish you could will your body to stop shaking.

“I can’t do this again,” you whisper, voice cracking through the syllables. He lets out a painful breath and pulls you close.

“This isn’t COVID.” he says, voice low and soft. “This isn’t COVID, okay?” he whispers, holding you tighter, and you know that he is trying to convince himself as much as you. You nod, pulling him tighter. “And besides, we can FaceTime just like last time, okay? And play Animal Crossing…”

“That game is so old,” you say, attempting to bring a smile to his face, body starting to calm.

“Are you telling me you’ve abandoned the peach trees on your island?” he says, feigning shock. You laugh, the sound surprising you.

“Fine, maybe I’ll visit your shitty ass island, if you’re nice.”

“Hey, my island’s great. I got a raccoon and everything.”

“Jungkook, everyone has Tom Nook, you’re not special.”

It’s silent for a moment as you both relax into a small tremble, both obviously still scared for what’s to come but crippling panic gone, for the most part. You hold him for a little longer, wanting to hold on to the last moment of normalcy for the foreseeable future. Eventually, you let your grip loosen, and he slips from your arms, both now sitting in the grass.

“Hey, I don’t have to drag you from bed to come run with me anymore.” Jungkook says, the joke landing bittersweet on the both of you.

“You never had to drag me out, really.” you admit, smiling. “I like running with you.”

“Well, I’d hope so.” Jungkook scoffs, and you laugh, which makes him smile back.

“Maybe we can do virtual runs.” you muse.

“What?” Jungkook looks at you, confused.

“Yeah, like, running in place on FaceT-”

“Uh, no,” he laughs.

“And why not?”

“That’d be ridiculous!” He looks at you, grinning ear to ear. You notice you’re not shaking anymore.

“Okay, fine, fine. We’ll just get fat then,” you grin up at him before looking back to the grass.

It’s silent for a moment, both of you contemplating how to make the situation stay light and happy. Easy.

“He was old.” You say softly, looking at your feet in front of you, tapping your heel to the ground. He nods.

“He was. And he already had health issues.” he agrees, tone mostly convincing. You both nod to yourselves for a moment.

“We’ll be okay.” you say, voice stronger than it has been since the outbreak. Jungkook grips your hand and stands up.

“Yep, we will.” he says, offering to pull you up. You stand as he pulls on your hand, then follow as he keeps walking.

“Well, want to go get some food before the end of the world?” He says, looking back at you. You laugh and nod, standing on only slightly shaky legs, and walk forward down the concrete path.

12 February 2030, 08:59 PM

“Stop hitting me with your fucking net.” Jungkook deadpans, his Animal Crossing character running as fast as his little legs can carry him. You cackle into the microphone, glancing at his pixelated frame in the monitor as he frowns at his switch’s screen.

“You asked for this.” you say before turning and stealing cherries from his island’s native trees.

“God, you have not changed.” he sighs, a small smile on his face. You feel warmth in your chest.

“I like to think the me of today would not have named my island Fuit Gummy.”

“The you of today is not ten years old.” he reminds you, turning his character to smack you with the net. “And get off my trees, I work hard on those.”

“Shut up, you don’t do shit.” you grumble, getting off his trees. A moment later, you hear Jungkook gasp and look up.

“Didn’t you need to go grocery shopping?” he asks.

You look at the time. 9:00 PM.

“Oh, shit-” You say, cutting yourself off as you snap your laptop closed, grab the mask and keys dangling from your key holder and book it out the door, an hour left to get supplies.

With the panic following the announcement of the shutdown, supplies have run scarce amidst the shelves, dented cans of sweet corn rolling across the barren aisles before being snatched by greedy palms. You squeeze past a swarm of shoppers to crouch to the bottom shelf, grabbing the items shoved to the back of the shelving unit that others hadn’t seen yet; beans, sauces, canned pastas. In other aisles you’re able to find stray sanitizers and cleaners, even lucky enough to find a few extra masks, stuffed behind some bedding. You feel satisfied; it’s enough to live for a week before you’d have to make another run, enough time for the new shipments of emergency stock to come in. You take your place in line, basket only slightly digging into the soft bend of your arm as you shift foot to foot, watching customer after customer leave. Confusion and concern etches their worn faces, bags of rations stacked in their carts. You wonder for a brief moment how many of these people will survive this.

“Hi there, did you find everything okay?” a familiar cashier says in a flat tone, lips curling into a cautious smile as she starts to scan the items. You miss the way her smile used to light up her checklane, once bright eyes now dull and insipid.

Guess retail will do that to you, you muse.

“Hey, Stacy,” you say to the cashier, attempting to lighten the mood. “Haven’t seen-”

“Glad to hear that.” She says, dropping a can of black beans.

You blink, startled by the interruption. The incessant beep of the scanner is monotonous against the silence, filling the air instead of the usual pleasant conversation you’d have with Stacy. Suddenly you’re too aware of the mask against your skin, your jacket’s worn seam on your wrist, the murmurs of people muttering their concerns into the air, droning on and on. Worse, you are met with the sound of aluminum cans hitting the tile below, missing the bag and rolling away from the checkout. A can of SpaghettiOs drops, hitting Stacy directly on the top of her foot and bouncing to the toe of your shoe.

She doesn’t flinch.

“Stacy?” you call, waving your hand in front of her face in an attempt to snap her out of it.

“That will be $9.99,” she says, eyes not quite reaching yours. You give up, picking up the items and bagging them with the purchases that did make it in. You dig out the cash and put it on the counter, but realize she is already ringing up the next customer.

As you walk away, you hear the sound of cans hitting the tile floor.

“What are you doing?” the man exclaims, picking up a can-crushed loaf of garlic bread. “I oughta tell your ma-”

“That will be $9.99.”

Your blood runs cold.

You turn around to see an employee come behind Stacy, guiding her to walk to the employee’s entrance.

“Come on, Stacy. It’s time for your break,” she says, voice faltering. You turn sharply back around, leaving the store and heading down the cobblestone walkway to your street, shoes scuffing against the pavement.

At 9:54 PM, you get a text from Jungkook.

Jungkook: Did you grab toilet paper?

You manage a soft laugh, a sound tainted sour with dread.

You: didn’t even have a chance

28 February 2030 04:54 AM

[4 missed calls from: Jungkook]

Jungkook: CALL ME!!!!! (when you get a chance)

You stare at the text, eyes crusted from sleep. Your eyes flick to the time, then glare back down at the words on your screen. The son of a bitch woke you up at 5 in the goddamn morning. Why the hell is he up?

You call him, hoping it’s not something too important so you can go back to sleep.

Within two rings, your ears are assaulted with garbled english your brain is too tired to quite comprehend.

“THANKGODYOU’REAWAKE!DidyouheartheNEWS?SomepeopleIguessarelikewakingup rightliketheCASHIERbutit’snotwakingupexactlyit’slikethey’reZOMBIESwellnotquitezombiesBUTLIKE-”

“Jungkook slow the fuck down, it’s 5 AM-”

“SORRY- sorry.” he takes a quick breath. “The people that are waking up- you know about that right?”

“Yeah, I think I read something-” you mumble, sitting up in your bed to turn on a light.

“Like the cashier, the cashier from like two weeks ago -”

“Stacy, yeah, the one that woke back up-”

“That’s the thing- they AREN’T waking up.”

You pause, staring at a spot on the wall as you wrap your mind around the thought.

“What, so like a ghost?”

“Well, not exactly- Their body is there, but-” he sucks in a breath, tripping over jumbled thoughts.

“Then how-”

“It’s the virus, I guess. It’s lasting longer than the host.”

“...what?” you stand, your feet pacing in a figure 8 on the wooden floor of your apartment.

“They’re calling it a twitch. The host dies, but the virus attaches itself to the nervous system and takes over while the body goes through the motions of life until the virus is dead. It’s like the virus is trying to live and spread as much as possible before their lifespan is complete.”

“So, Stacy…”

“Full time cashier, clocks in and out everyday.. It’s probably muscle memory at that point.”

It’s silent, your brain running miles a minute.

“How is a virus even capable of this?” you ask.

“That’s what scientists can’t figure out! I mean, I guess it’s probable because like viruses are technically parasites and spread by taking over cells, but to take over an ENTIRE nervous system, I mean, they’d have to replicate by the thousands! And to get it to operate without the host being alive and retrieve memories and tasks-” Jungkook’s voice is excitable, growing in volume and energy as he continues on.

“Christ…”

“They were running tests on some of the bodies to try to figure it out but the government pulled funding-” “WHAT? Why the fuck would they do that!?” you stop in your tracks.

“They SAID they should focus on a cure, but-” he says, voice dropping in volume.

“But?”

“I don’t think so. I think something bigger is going on.” his tone shifts, more serious now.

“Like what?” you say, ignoring the goosebumps that have spread across your skin.

“Notice how the only ones getting infected are old, or had preexisting medical conditions?”

“Yeah, we talked about that.”

“I think that this is on purpose.”

Your eyes go wide.

“I think this is on purpose, some government issued assassination-”

“What-”

“Okay well not assassination, because that’s too like pointed but like I think this infection is manmade, on purpose. Maybe some sort of population control? It just makes too much sense, with the weak being killed off-”

“The WEAK? Jungkook, these are PEOPLE-” you start, incredulous at what he’s insinuating.

“I’m not saying it’s right! But like, with the population issue that’s been going on for decades now, global warming, and the end of the world looming over us, maybe the people in power are taking drastic measures to improve our odds as a whole. Including making a nearly indestructible virus.” he says, his voice so stable and nonchalant that you are taken aback. How could he not be terrified of the story he is spinning into existence?

Your pulse quickens as your vision blurs in front of you, the low light of your lamp spilling into the blues of the wall. Your knees start to shake, as Jungkook’s voice grows further and further away, before snapping back into the forefront of your mind.

“I’m just saying, if the government decides to zombify me, you better pull the trigger.” he says, a sharp laugh punctuating the thought.

This snaps you out of it, horror flooding your features.

“WHAT?”

“I said-”

“DONT fucking joke about that!” you bark, limbs trembling beneath you.

“I-”

“People aren’t being “zombified,” you aren’t catching the virus and you aren’t dying.” You sit on the bed now, rubbing your hand against the raised skin on your thighs.

“Okay! I’m sorry, I just... I’m sorry.” he says, voice laced with concern.

“Okay.” you breathe out.

“Are you okay?” his quiet voice calls over the phone.

“I don’t know.”

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.

“Are you counting?”

“Nine.”

“Nine what?”

“Pens. And two birds outside my window.”

“What kind of birds?”

“Crows.”

“Are they pretty?”

You manage to smile.

“Of course, they’re pretty. They’re crows.”

You hear his soft laugh on the receiver.

“You’re right, stupid question.”

You find yourself tossing and turning, thinking of the implications of Jungkook’s theory. How many shells of people are walking among everyone else right now? How far has this virus spread? How many will be taken? Were they really sacrificed like that, without thought or care of the stories and memories attached? Would that even be moral? Killing millions, but potentially saving billions? Would it even be worth it? Would it even work, or be possible? You stare out at the moon, bright and waning amidst the sky. The stars are too faint to see, the city lights and smog drowning them out.

You really hope, with all of your might, that he is wrong, that this is just his overactive brain theorizing after playing too many video games in quarantine.

Yeah, maybe the quarantine is getting to you both.

Your phone vibrates.

Jungkook: Just checking in. I’m still really sorry about earlier. Maybe I was just trying to make it easier by making shit up, idk. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I wasn’t thinking and there’s no excuse to not be taking this thing seriously. I know what COVID did to you, to your family. Hell, what it did to mine. . . I shouldn’t have been saying what I was saying. I’m sorry.

You frown.

You: It’s okay. It’s just hard, right now. Being alone again is just hard, and thinking about stuff like that makes it so much harder.

Jungkook: yeah.

Jungkook: If I could I’d be holed up in there with you, but I don’t feel like going to jail right now.

Jungkook: tbh I’d sneak over anyway, if I knew you’d be safe.

Jungkook: Anyway, meet at town square tomorrow?

You: Yours or mine?

Jungkook: Mine, obviously. It’s fucking steller.

You snort.

You: give me one of your trees and we got a deal.

You put your phone down, smiling at the ceiling, before your phone buzzes once more.

Jungkook: I wasn’t kidding, though.

Jungkook: I don’t want to die like that.

You close your eyes, dismissing the thought of it before it plants roots in your mind.

You: Of course not. No one does. But you won’t die like that, I promise.

18 March 2030, 09:54 PM

Your vision tunnels as you stare at the screen, unmoving.

“-The bodies now dropping dead, again. That’s right; reports are now stating that the virus loses control and dies off around a week after ‘the twitch’ begins.” the news reporter states, no life in their eyes.

Thousands. Thousands of bodies are dropping by the second, the virus now spreading worldwide. This is so much worse than you could have imagined.

A third of the population, gone. 2.8 billion lives lost. Just like that.

You call Jungkook.

“Hello?” he says, voice hoarse, as if he just woke up.

“Jungkook, are you watching the news?”

“Yeah,” he croaks. “I am.”

“I can’t believe this.” you whisper, curling yourself into a ball on your mattress.

You both watch as a montage of bodies drop on the screen; parking lots, grocery stores, pharmacies, nursing homes, all filled with dropping corpses. It’s so much messier than you thought it’d be. Why are they showing such close up images? Why is there so much coverage? Why do they almost look alive, right until the very-

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks over the receiver.

You pause for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

It’s silent over the line.

“Jungkook, what if it gets worse? Spreads more than we project? What if we can’t control it anymore?”

The static from the other end begins to feel unnerving.

“It won’t, dove. I can promise you that.”

“But how can you say that- how are you so sure?”

The air hangs heavy before you hear his heavy sigh.

“Y/N, I did something stupid.”

Your heart drops.

“What do you mean?”

“I- The more I thought about it, the more that our conversation the other day made sense. I started to get public records sorted, god, you should see my room- it’s plastered everywhere- but I started gathering more information and… Y/N, it was lining up so perfectly, too perfectly-”

“What did you do, Jungkook.”

“I needed to know more, I knew I was right about this, and… No one’s in the judicial offices right now, they’re too scared of catching REVII-29, so it’s not heavily guarded-”

“Oh my god-” you start, voice shaking.

“I went in through the window? You know, the one towards the top? It’s attached to an office, and I found the office of cases against hospitals and shit, and all of the REVII-29 cases are just… in the trash. Same with anything to do with life insurance from loss of family members through the outbreak. They aren’t helping the public with this, and the news-the news isn’t even covering it! I mean, why wouldn’t the news be covering this, and why did police not find the dead bodies before they started to twitch? Well, turns out, they’re being told to leave these claims.”

His voice is shaking now as you hear his footsteps against the carpeted floors of his room.

“I was right, don’t you get it? The virus- it really is population control. They really are killing all these people on purpose. Anyway, I grabbed all the files I could fit in my backpack and I left, but-” he falters, breath heavy against the receiver.

“But what?”

“I guess I was followed?” he says, his voice small. “I was grabbed from behind, in the alley by my apartment. Damn it, I was so close…” he trails off, voice trembling to a halt.

His footsteps stop, carpet shifting, and you hear a sharp inhale.

“I felt this pain, in my neck, and… I tried to fight against it, but there was something-I was being injected, so, the needle bent,”

“Oh my god,” you gasp, tears forming in your eyes.

“Y/N, I can’t feel my fingertips.”

Your phone shatters against the floor.

He looks terrible; knees shaking, shirt torn, neck bruised and bleeding. But he’s alive, in front of you, and for that, you feel relieved.

“What are you doing here?” his voice trembles, eyes brimming with tears and knuckles curling into the doorframe.

He has never looked so small.

“You can’t do this alone,” you smile, desperation clinging to your features. “I’m here to help-”

“Go home,” he starts to shut the door, but your foot catches it. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“It’s too late, I’m already exposed,” you insist.

“If they catch you out here-” he says, glancing behind you, genuine fear behind his eyes.

“The ones that pumped you with this virus? Yeah, they can suck my ass, frankly.”

He looks back to you, wide-eyed.

“I’m not leaving you to die, Jungkook. I’m not fucking doing it.”

“No one has survived this, dove-”

“Yeah, well, no one has caught it this young, either.”

Jungkook backs away a little, lip trembling. You step forward.

“Please. Please, let me be here with you.” you say, forcing his gaze to lock with yours.

He drops his arms in defeat, a shaky breath leaving his lungs. Then, he steps forward, wrapping you in his arms. You can feel his body tremor, quiet sobs shaking his frame. You relax against him, pulling him tighter.

“I couldn’t leave you like that. I can’t- I can’t give up on you like that.” you say, tears staining your cheeks.

You hold each other for a moment, trembling limbs finding comfort in the tenderness of the other.

“I’m sorry.” he cries, and you don’t know what he’s apologizing for. “I’m so, so sorry.”

22 March 2030, 02:29 AM

You wake up to Jungkook screaming.

“Jungkook! Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you call, checking for any injury or progression of sickness.

“I can’t- fuck!” he screams, pounding on his thighs, whole body shaking. You grab his fists and hold them down, fear shooting through your body.

“Jungkook, breathe-” you start. He locks eyes with you, panting and dampened with sweat.

“I can’t feel my legs.” he whimpers, a strangled cry that sends another wave of anger through his body as he weakly pounds at his thighs. “They won’t move.”

You pull him to your lap, holding his fists until they slow to a dull thud against his flesh, then push his hair away from his sticky forehead.

“It’s okay,” you soothe, running your fingers through his hair, “I’m here.”

His fists eventually fall to either side, breaths heavy. Tears stain his face.

“I don’t wanna die, Y/N.”

You smile weakly, wiping the tears from his face and pulling him closer to you.

“Don’t think like that,” you whisper, barely audible.

He twists his torso to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging your waist tight. You smile and rub small circles on his back, watching the fabric fold and crease underneath your fingertips and his muscles relax beneath them.

You wait until he’s fast asleep against your chest to let the tears fall.

1 April 2030, 02:29 PM

This is a sick joke.

You can’t stop your mind from pounding the thought into your skull as you attempt to heat a kettle of water, shaking too hard to keep it from spilling over the edges and sizzling on the hot stove. A weak breath comes from your throat, strangled into a soft flutter of air against your lips as you allow your head to hang from your shoulders.

“Y/N?” Jungkook calls, his voice sounding broken, wilted.

“I’m coming, I just have to start the water for your tea,” You call, hating the way your voice trembles as you speak.

Today marks two weeks of paralysis. He’s regaining feeling in his limbs and spine. You know what’s happening, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it aloud. Besides, you can’t do that to him. You don’t want him to feel any worse, he’s already got a lot on his mind.

You grab the plate of sliced oranges you prepared for him and walk to his side.

“I know you’ve been having a hard time eating, but these are your favorite and I-”

“Y/N,” he calls, looking into your eyes. He looks tired, more beaten down than you’ve ever seen.

“Yes?” you breathe, counting the moles on his face to slow your breathing. Five. No, six, one was so small you hadn’t noticed it before.

“I already know.”

Your breath slows, like cement pouring into your lungs.

“Know what?” you smile, weakly.

“I’m dying.” he says, gaze searing into yours. “I’ve been counting.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your vision blurs and your stomach drops.

“Counting’s my thing.” you muster, voice quivering around the joke. No one laughs. You suck a breath in. “No one’s dying.”

“Everyone’s dying-”

“YOU’RE not dying! Okay? You’re not.” you say, setting the oranges down to hide the way your hands shake. “You’re not going to die. You’re regaining feeling in your arms and you’re breathing better-”

“You KNOW what that means-”

“-and if you just hold on and just keep fighting, then maybe-”

“Y/N!”

“WHAT?” you scream, eyes wide and panicked, tears trickling down your face, a small false smile on your lips. You look to him, laying on the floor, half his body limp and the other half propped on worn pillows. He looks so small, so frail. You wonder how much weight he’s lost.

“Stop.” he breathes, tears welling in his eyes. “Just stop.” he props himself on a trembling elbow, turning his body to reach for an orange slice, averting his gaze. You feel something in you break in that moment. Almost on autopilot, you find your body moving forward to help him peel the orange slice.

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, not trusting your voice of much more as you crouch down to the plate.

“It’s okay. I’m just.. Tired, you know?” he says, his soft laugh choked with a cough.

Fatigue is a late stage symptom.

You shake your head, trying desperately not to spiral.

“I know. You’ve been fighting for a long time.” you say, a smile on your face and an orange in your outstretched hand. He takes it in his fingertips, bringing the fruit to his mouth. It’s almost relieving to see the orange juice spill from the sides of his mouth as he bites down; some organic color amidst his paling skin. You look down to your hands, eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you remember a few months ago, what you said to me?” he asks, wiping the juice from his face absentmindedly with a shaky hand.

“You won’t die like that, I promise.”

“We talk nearly every day, I’ve said a lot to you-” you start, a light laugh lifting your words.

“You promised I wouldn’t die like this.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think-”

“Did you mean it?” he questions, searching your gaze for an answer. Your eyes well up with tears.

“Can we talk about something else?” you whisper, breath quickening.

“Y/N, I’m asking you to-”

“No-”

“Please, I NEED you to-”

“No, no-”

“Y/N, get the gun from my drawers and-”

“NO-”

“Shoot me! Please-” he chokes, tears streaming down his face as he grabs your hands in desperation. “I don’t wanna die like this. I don’t wanna die and forget who I am. I don’t want my body to be-”

“Jungkook, please-”

“Walking around without me being there, I don’t want to-” his voice breaks and he sobs, elbow giving out and his head landing in your lap, grasping your fists tightly. He sobs for a while, the sound piercing through you and sending shivers down your spine. You cry with him, petting his head and wiping the sweat from the back of his neck.

“I can’t taste anything.” he cries, voice cracking. “And my vision is getting blurry. Please, Y/N.”

It's silent between the two of you for some time, long enough that your knees grow numb, long enough for the sun to start setting and bathe the barren city in a golden glow, long enough for your tears to dry against your cheeks.

You’re really losing your best friend.

“Where is it.” you manage.

“In the top drawer of my dresser.”

You walk over, floorboards creaking under your weight, until you reach the door and pull it open. There sits a pistol, polished and loaded. The sight of it sends ice through your veins.

“Did you find it?” he says, looking in your direction. You manage a small nod and walk back to your place beside him, cold steel pressed against your hand. You can’t look anywhere but where the metal hits your skin, body going rigid beneath you. It isn’t until Jungkook’s hands wrap around yours that you look up.

One, two, three, four, five, six. Seven, if you count the one on his neck.

“We’re running out of time.” he says quietly, pleading and apologizing in the same breath. Your vision starts to blur again.

“I don’t know if I can do this, I-I know I promised but fuck, Jungkook, I didn’t think-”

“I’m asking you for a lot,” he starts, tears dripping from his chin to the fabric of your jeans, “but I only have you. That’s all I got left.”

You suck a breath in, an impossible smile forming on your face, despite it all. “How are you feeling?”

He laughs, a bitter one that barks its way from his lungs. “I’m scared.”

You feel the tears spill from your eyes as you laugh too. “Yeah.”

It’s silent for a moment, choked breaths and quiet sobs filling the air.

“Count with me, love.” he whispers, pushing the gun under his chin. Your hands start to shake again as he moves your finger to the trigger.

“Don’t…” you plead.

“One,” he starts, his faltering voice giving him away. “Two-”

“Jungkook I can’t, I can’t do this-”

“I love you.” he says, a small smile on his features, a goodbye in his eyes.

You stop, mind momentarily stunned. “W-what?”

You jump when his thumb runs across your hand, unintentionally pulling the trigger.

Your ears ring as the gunshot echoes off of the walls of the apartment, Jungkook’s body collapsing to the floor.

You barely start to register what’s happened when his body twitches and reanimates, lifting his torso from the ground, eyes vacant and half open. Terror fills your limbs as you fumble for the gun, shock still controlling your body. You lift the pistol to his chest, faltering before you can shoot, staring into the blank eyes of your best friend’s corpse and wondering how the world went this wrong.

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull the trigger, Jungkook’s body falling limp with the second gunshot as the bullet rips through the spinal cord. Shakily, you take your hand and wipe the blood from your eyes, lungs unable to catch a full breath.

The scream that comes from your body isn’t something you can control, but rather it’s primal, guttural, as it rips you wide open and tears spill from your eyes, pink staining your cheeks as the blood runs down your face. Sobs wreck your body as you double over onto his chest, pressing the remaining heat of his existence into your skin. The pistol clangs against the floor as it slips from your grasp, fingers curling into the blood-soaked cotton clinging to Jungkook’s back.

Hours later, you smell the stove, and realize you left the kettle on.

You wonder, for a fleeting moment, if water can burn.

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook fic #bts fic #horror #body horror #angst #bangtan #jeon jungkook #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #my writing

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pur-pled-aw-thor · 3 years

Text

The Truth

Sherlock x Reader

Summary: Y/n has been keeping up the truth everyone, but one day the truth will afloat.

Word count: 4.9k (whaaat the-)

Warnings: none

GIF not mine

THIRD POV

Saturdays are meant for having fun or just staying inside your room and rest. But of course Y/n's life isn't like that. Especially she's working with Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.

"You know we can just leave this case with Lestrade right?" Y/n asked the tall man in front of her.

"If you would just look up the security footage, then sure we can turn those over and continue this." Sherlock said not even looking at Y/n. John is busy with searching more about it, or trying to update his blog.

After a few, ten, tries Y/n got in the security and downloaded all of the footage from last night and prior the incident.

"It's already downloading, just wait for a few minutes." She stated standing up and went to the kitchen for some tea. But then she heard her phone's notification is blowing up. Sighing in annoyance, she placed down the kettle and got her phone.

-Mr. Blabbermouth

• Why on Earth is my brother on a case again

• Don't tell me you've downloaded something again

• Meet me in British Public Library, 20 minutes.

• Do bring your I.D, we'll be staying for a while.

Y/n read the texts and tried to choose, get rid of him and continue drinking tea, or get rid of him and continue drinking tea.

'Either way my life will still be a mess.' She thought and sighed. Getting her coat and tying her hair up, John looked up from his screen.

"Where are you going?" He asked, causing Sherlock to look also at the y/h/c girl.

"I need to go to my mum's house, she needs help with my sister." She lied, like what she's been doing for a long time.

"Well what about the footage?" Watson asked pointing at the laptop on the couch. "It'll be done in 15 minutes, after that it'll automatically leave the site." She said adjusting the timer and entering her code.

"Okay just take care." Watson said smiling at her. Nodding, she immediately went downstairs and passed by Mrs. Hudson.

"Where are you going?" "To my mum's, Mrs. Hudson!" She exclaimed leaving faster.

Walking down the streets of London, the cold breeze of the morning is never new to Y/n. It made her feel happy that she chose to change her life.

Upon reaching the Library, a car parked by the curb. The person got out and Y/n followed.

She knew this whole place like it was just the alphabet, but more on security and alarms.

She walked through shelves and shelves of books until she reached a corner, her corner. The person is already sitting down flipping the pages of a book.

"I know you did something just to help my brother again, and I would like to know what." He stated, well demanding.

"It would've been better if you were the one to ask him, Mycroft." Y/n said confidently, not feeling any intimidation from the man.

"It's better if he knows about the truth." He said proudly. "Do sit, Y/n. It is your ridiculous corner after all." She removed her coat and hung it on the chair.

"Tell him the truth and I'll visit him." "I would rather let you get hit by a train before the truth leaves my mouth." Y/n said rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

"Any truth will be accepted." "I don't have that much of a choice." "The past or the present. You decide." "Neither, Mycroft. You're basically the British Government, so how can you not know anything about what's happening in 221-B Baker Street?!" Y/n almost shouted at the man in front of her. The man snapped the book close, Y/n didn't even flinched.

"Just tell me and we can wrap this up." He said and Y/n sighed. "It's about those random killings that don't make sense." She said rolling her eyes. "It does make sense to Sherlock Holmes." Mycroft stood up from the chair and got his umbrella.

"It's easy for you to tell me the truth but never to Sherlock." He said turning towards the aisle. "One day the truth will afloat, Y/n. Good day." He said walking away from the corner.

Y/n stared at the chair in front of her and tried not to let Mycroft inside her head.

"I made a promise to be careful with my choices and whom to trust. I can't break that." Y/n said to herself, trying to remember what happened 3 years ago.

3 years ago

'I can live by myself and made the right decision, yeah?' Y/n asked herself while the man pulled up on the curb.

'I hope so.' she got out of the cab and the man helped her carry her stuff inside the building. She paid generously and took up the boxes herself.

When she was about to get the last box, she ran into the landlady carrying a tray of tea.

"Oh hello dear! You're already here, you have your keys right? Anything you need?" Y/n smiled at the landlady's kindness.

"No Mrs. Hudson, I was just about to get the last box from downstairs." She said politely and got curious about whose tea is she bringing.

"I'll see you for a while dear, I need to bring this up." Mrs. Hudson said and continued to ascend the stairs.

"You should stop hoarding books, it's gathering up dust." She heard Mrs. Hudson scold at the other flat beside hers.

"Well if you would clean up then they won't, Mrs. Hudson." A man with a deep but smooth voice said.

"I'm your landlady, Sherlock. Not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson exclaimed storming out of the flat and passing by Y/n.

'I'm still wondering how Mrs. Hudson never noticed.' Y/n asked herself while placing the box down and tried to search for the key to her flat.

"It's the silver key with a round head and a line engraved horizontally." She looked around and saw him.

'Sherlock Holmes'

She got the key and it fits in the keyhole. She silently chuckled to herself for being smarted up by him.

But then she realized what Sherlock Holmes would have done for the past 2 minutes she was just standing there.

She immediately went inside and closed the door. She heard about Sherlock Holmes and his talents in being a detective. Most of the policemen don't take him seriously because of his assumptions and ideas that he gives immediately.

But they are left befuddled because he is right all along.

"Great, the plan on living a new life is starting to crumble with him knowing who I am." She said face palming herself.

"As long as I'm not suspicious, he won't notice it." She said standing up and opened up the blinds.

A week

'Oh god no. Please no.' She said trying to feel every pocket and slot she has in her coat, pants and purse.

'I did forget my keys in.' she said kicking the door in frustration. She sat down by the steps and tried to call a locksmith.

A few calls later they all said they can't go to their street because it was filled with snow. They can help her tomorrow morning.

"Why did Mrs. Hudson need to leave today?" She said hugging her coat more to gather up warmth. Next week is already December and snow got here early.

She tried to pull her bonnet down more to cover her ears with her hair, but the draft coming from the upstairs and moving behind her got colder.

"At least my laptop isn't going to freeze overnight, lucky bastard." Y/n said rolling her eyes and huffing.

She heard shuffling from Sherlock Holmes' flat and saw him placing paper on the table. Sherlock saw Y/n and looked at the door to her flat.

He went closer and Y/n smiled in embarrassment, "I forgot my keys inside." She said paying attention to her gloves now.

Sherlock went back inside and started removing books and papers from the couch and placing them on the table or floor.

"You can stay here for a while. Who knows when Mrs. Hudson might return." He said leaning on the door frame.

Y/n stood up and passed by him, trying not to look like she's taking it up for granted. She sat down on the couch and Sherlock prepared tea.

Sherlock can't comprehend why he welcomed her into his flat even though he's only seen her every afternoon to get food and comeback with it.

And what disturbs him, is that he can't read her like everyone else. She's like, an unexplainable being.

Sitting down on his chair, Sherlock tried to think a way to get to know her.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective, because I invented the job. I have an older brother named Mycroft." He said as a starter and she smiled.

"I'm Y/n, I don't have a job right now but I will find one, hopefully. I actually don't have a sibling, just me and my parents." She said chuckling and Sherlock smiled. He heard the tea was ready and he asked her about what she likes.

Handing her a cuppa, she accepted it and Sherlock let her remove her coat so she can get comfortable. Y/n removed her coat, gloves and bonnet and placed them beside her.

They continued chatting, leaving unfinished experiments and paperworks in the kitchen and not noticing Mrs. Hudson got home because the road was already cleared out.

A year ago

"How did you do that?" Sherlock asked Y/n and she almost fell from her seat. "Did what?" "Getting into the security cameras of Baker Street." He said pointing at the screen.

"You won't tell?" She asked and Sherlock nodded. "Obviously I can hack into them, besides cameras are very easy to hack." She said rolling her eyes and Sherlock celebrated about learning what Y/n can do.

"This is amazing! You can help me in cases and everyone can know!" He exclaimed proudly but Y/n said otherwise.

"No one can know! You promised!" She exclaimed and slapping Sherlock's arm jokingly.

"Besides I can only be accessible within 20 meters away from you." She said showing the map to Sherlock, "Well then come with me every day but of course just stand by. Wait till I tell Lestrade!" He said and reassured Y/n that he was an inspector that she can trust.

'I know Lestrade alright.' She thought smirking on her screen while Sherlock tried to find his phone.

A month after that

"Hello Sherlock." Y/n heard a woman entering the lab and she stopped on her tracks when she saw her. "Hello Y/n." She said sadly.

It's been a month since Y/n was silently working with Sherlock. She met Molly in the process, well she was always around wherever Sherlock is.

Especially if he's in the lab.

Y/n's phone got a notification and she looked at the message.

-Lestrade

Someone was on the phone for you.

Y/n

Who was it?

-Lestrade

Private matters they said.

'Private matters they said'

-Mr. Holmes

The car is waiting at the corner.

'Not this again.' She thought reading the message. Either she goes now or let them wait and risk getting fetched by them.

-Y/n

I'll be leaving for a while. Please look out for Sherlock, Lestrade.

-Lestrade

I will.

"Sherlock I'll be going out for a while." She said getting her coat and wearing it. "Can you get me coffee?" "I can get you one." Molly intervened and both of them looked at her.

"The usual Y/n, if it's not a burden." Sherlock said looking again at the microscope.

"Oh umm, I think I'll be gone for an hour, so Molly might help you with that." She said looking at the messages.

-Mr. Holmes

The longer you take, the longer this talk will be.

"It's fine with me, what's your usual?" Molly asked Sherlock and both of them replied.

"Black 2 sugars." They said in unison and Y/n left immediately while trying to run through everything or everyone.

She saw the car and immediately got inside.

"Stop haunting me, Mycroft Holmes." She said keeping her phone away and looking outside the windows.

Today

"It's almost 4 years now since I moved and 2 years since I started working with him." Y/n said laughing at the page she had a note on.

'Before the December morning came, a chance and a person changed the game.'

She closed the book and walked back towards Baker Street. It was almost noon and she knows Sherlock and John is waiting for her to come back.

Entering the flat, she already heard footsteps coming down the stairs and saw Mycroft with John and Sherlock behind him.

"What did you do again Sherlock?" She asked trying not to look like she knows Mycroft.

"I can reassure you miss, he didn't do anything wrong. Good day brother, Dr. Watson." He said leaving.

"Lunch?" She asked the two and they nodded.

They went to a Café and started to eat lunch. Went back to Baker Street and John took a rest for a while. Leaving Y/n and Sherlock continuing to solve the crime.

"It doesn't make sense! He's just killing random people!" Sherlock exclaimed looking at the wall. John is still asleep on his chair, covered with papers.

"Maybe you just need to look at the minor factors they have. Maybe they all have something very important that the killer would want." Y/n said getting through the files about the case. Sherlock stared at the girl in front of him.

'How can you be so smart at the same time be bossy?' he thought returning his gaze at the wall.

They continued their work and John woke up an hour ago. Until it was night time and Mrs. Hudson brought them tea.

"Sherlock, why is there a big toe on your sink?" She asked rather disturbed. Y/n laughed at Sherlock's constant behavior of experimenting with things.

Sherlock's phone rang and it was Mycroft. He sighed and answered the phone.

"What is it Mycroft?" He said dropping the papers he was holding on the table.

"What?! An emergency? Where?" He exclaimed causing the three to look at him. "What's the matter, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked walking nearer.

"We'll be right there." He said dropping the call and got his coat. "What the hell is going on?!" John exclaimed trying to get Sherlock's attention.

"A family is now on ransom and Mycroft thinks it's the killer." Sherlock said wrapping up his scarf and the two wore theirs.

"I don't get it? A family? How are they connecte-" "The father is an official in the government, a close person to the royal family." He said climbing down the stairs with John following.

Y/n got stuck on the doorway and processed what Sherlock just said. She got worried and immediately went down the stairs.

They got a cab and they reached a building. Police and a few government employees were there to plan out.

"Sherlock! In here." They saw Mycroft went inside a vehicle a few feet away the commotion. It was filled with monitors connected to the cameras inside.

"An empty building perfect for a murder isn't it?" Sherlock said rather excited and John nudged him not to be happy.

"Any news from the inside?" "No, the killer won't let anyone in. He's controlling the entrances, except for the cameras which is odd." One of the men said showing the doors.

They stayed there for almost 10 minutes without any movement from the killer. They found him sitting on an antique chair looking at his phone and wearing a ridiculous mask.

The television beside him lit up and the camera couldn't clear out what the television is flashing.

"This is the Y/l/n Family, if you still want to see them alive. You know who you are, give me what's so precious to your family." The killer said laughing under his mask.

"That is the live stream, we can see them here on camera 16, inside a room tied up. The same as the television is showing." The men said but they noticed something blinking at the middle of the chairs the family is sitting.

"And there's now a bomb planted. Call the bomb disposal team!" They tried to contact people from the outside to find a way inside faster.

Because there's a bomb on the middle of the room, and it wasn't making the job easy.

"I just need to talk to youuu~" The guy sang and laughed like a psychopath. He stood up and started dancing.

"Sherlock, anything?" John asked the man scanning around the monitors and starts to get frustrated. "Are you sure all of the exits are closed?!" He exclaimed and they nodded showing every camera angle of the exits.

Y/n opened up her laptop and plugged in a USB. Mycroft noticed and he looked at her telling no. But her eyes said it was the only way.

After transferring files from the USB, she took out her phone and connected it to the laptop. Before finishing up and shutting her laptop, she typed something on the notes.

'Might be the best time to say it then.'

She closed her laptop, stood up next to Mycroft and handed him her phone. He was confused on why she gave him her phone.

"He'll think I might call the police if I brought my phone with me." "Well you're already with the police." They whispered at each other. Y/n started to leave the vehicle and Sherlock noticed.

"Where are you going Y/n?" "Outside, I need to speak with them. I'll be back." She said hopping out of the vehicle and closing it.

Grabbing the chain that she got from the inside and locking it, she made sure they'll be safe. In case the killer notices her trap.

Sherlock's POV

Y/n left a few minutes ago and she still hasn't returned. The Y/l/n family is still inside and the killer kept repeating the phrase.

"I just want to talk to youuuu"

"Why can't anyone enter!" I said frustrated and ruffled my hair. Trying to think a way inside. "Vents?" "What's that, Sherlock?" "The vents! Is there any vents?!" The men showed me and there weren't any vents big enough for a human to fit in.

"Great." I said and they returned the monitors back to the cameras we were monitoring.

"Aha! I knew you'd come my dear!" We heard the man say and he pressed a button on his phone causing the doors to open.

Third POV

The doors opened on the main entrance, Sherlock and the others were glued to the screens.

Y/n entered with no hesitation and the doors closed once she was in. "Y/n?!" Sherlock exclaimed and went towards the door. It wouldn't budge and John started helping him.

"Did she locked this after she left?" John asked Sherlock and he nodded. They went back to the monitors and she was standing at a safe distance from the killer.

"Isn't this nice, Y/n? You and me seeing together again and talking." He said followed by a laughter that echoed through the whole hall.

"It's nicer if you didn't do any of those killings." She said standing there feeling the gaze of the camera towards them.

"I thought I would get your attention." He stood up immediately that surprised Y/n and made her back away. "And it did!" He said laughing like a maniac now.

"See this red button on my phone?" He asked and Y/n nodded. "Well, It's connected to the bomb. Just give me what I want and I can forget about pressing this." He said placing the phone on the table and handing out his hand.

Y/n looked at him seeing any tricks with this. Her eyes lingers on the screen and she saw her family, tied up inside the room and starting to panic.

The killer saw this and laughed, knowing this is going to be fun. "Need inspiration? I'll give you one." He said getting his phone and pressing a button that made her family look behind the camera.

"Say 'hi', they've missed you so much." He circled around her and she started to take the risk.

"No, Y/n don't do it!" Mycroft yelled at the monitors that made Sherlock look at his brother. "Getting attached?" John asked and Sherlock shook his head in disapproval.

"He knew Y/n all along. Don't you brother?" Sherlock asked and Mycroft nodded. "Before she lived in Baker Street." He said earning a laugh from Sherlock.

"So is there anything I should know about more?" He asked Mycroft and he nodded. "A lot." He stated not removing his eyes on the screen.

They continued watching the scene and Y/n is starting to take something out her pocket.

"If you have tricks on your sleeves, you know what will happen." He stated reclining and looking at her.

She raised up her chin and took out a phone. But it was a different phone, different from her day to day phone. She looked at it and handed it over to him.

"Why does she have another phone?" John asked the two Holmes, Mycroft looked at Dr. Watson and pointed at Y/n's laptop.

"How do you think she has access with every security and anything the government controls?" "That's a government phone controlling the security, data, archives and information about the whole United Kingdom." Sherlock intervened looking at his phone trying to call Lestrade to get them out of the van.

"Thank you for giving this Y/n." He said looking at the phone checking any tricks. He gave back the phone and showed her the lock screen. "Open it." Y/n swiped up the phone and unlocked it with the pattern.

Mycroft seeing the lock, he got confused. Sherlock noticed it and asked him. "Government phones don't unlock with patterns and pins. They rely on fingerprint and facial unlock." He said getting the phone Y/n gave him.

He turned it on and swiped up the lock screen. "Just like that?" Watson asked and Mycroft nodded. "She switched the phones." He said in disbelief and laughed. He grabbed the radio and started giving commands to get ready at the entrances.

"Thank you for unlocking it." He said standing up and circling her again. "You know your parents are very disappointed but relieved that they won't get blown up." He said laughing maniacally going through files.

"But I must say, they, especially Sherlock Holmes, still don't know the last thing you're hiding." He said pointing at the camera and opening his arms.

Y/n turned around and looked at the camera. "I don't know what he's talking about." "OH! That's a good one. Tell me more jokes!" He exclaimed laughing, Y/n is on the verge of punching him.

"You're a psycho." She said making the guy stop in front of her and smiled. "Well I thought you loved psychos, hence liking one of us." He said leaning towards Y/n and raising his eyebrows.

Y/n noticed the camera moving and pointing at the door and back at her. She sighed and bowed her head.

"I'm right, am I? You looove psychopaths!" He said and Y/n shook her head.

"Sherlock Holmes isn't a psychopath, he is a high functioning sociopath." She raised her head smirking at him, "And the only consulting detective with that title." She punched him through his mask that caused him so much pain and police started to enter the room.

They started to surround the guy and picked him up. They handcuffed him and gave back Y/n's phone.

"Before you take and lock him away-" she said getting near the guy, "I never knew you'd take it this far, Kevin." Taking of the mask, 3 men entered the room and going behind Y/n to back her up.

"B-but how did they entered the room! I have the controls over the entrances!" Kevin said and Y/n smirked. She waved her hand and the police took him away, yelling about how she did it.

The 3 men behind her looked at her proudly. She looked behind them and saw her family getting untied and the bomb was inside a case now.

Her family looked behind the camera and smiled. Mycroft handed her the phone back and took off the case to place it back on her phone. The television turned off and they heard people assisting her family.

"I know you two have a lot of questions, but I can summarize everything." Y/n said looking at them and sitting down on the chair.

"I made a deal with my family to live a normal life in exchange to continue hiding who I am.

Growing up behind doors was never easy because you can't make friends or learn social skills. Only few close family friends and the Royal Family knows who I am.

My brother and two sisters can live a normal life because they attended private schools which only rich people can attend. But I can't have that because I'm the first ever child of them and it would be a great plan to kidnap me right? In exchange for files.

But when I attended college, It was a private school and people don't care who you are anymore, and that's where I met Kevin.

He was nice and sweet just like how I thought all of the world's population is. But I was wrong.

Then that's when we broke up. A few years just living inside the house again not going out.

Then almost 4 years ago, me and my family agreed for me to leave and live somewhere and make sure that I'm safe.

And I am safe, especially having Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson as my neighbors and friends.

Having meetings with Mr. Blabbermouth, a.k.a Mycroft Holmes.

And having this phone with me that helps my family to know where I am."

She finished up but the three men are still confused. She understood why and she chuckled. Looking at the camera, the men followed her gaze and she stopped at the sign beside the chair.

"He was sitting near this sign and the phone's reflection is seen on the camera. I tried to make out his layout of the controls with the doors and placed all of it in folders."

She explained and opened the phone, "With every click of a folder, a door opens." She clicked one and they heard a door opening upstairs.

"I forgot to mention, I also studied with hackers and security when I was in college and living with my parents. That's how I learned it."

She said keeping the phone in her pocket. John smiled at her and looked at the two men. "And what was about the whole Sherlock Holmes thing?" He asked and Y/n sighed. "That was nothing." She said standing up and walking pass by them.

They exited the building and stood near Lestrade's car. He was assisting the family and talking with them.

"My name on your contacts is 'Mr. Blabbermouth'?" Mycroft asked and Y/n laughed.

"Don't worry, Mr. Sociopath and Mr. Oblivious aren't left out." She said walking away and nearing her family.

"Mom, Dad." She said hugging them almost crushing them. "I'll leave you lot to talk for a while." Lestrade said smiling at the scene before him.

"I knew you had a way, but I never thought you can pull that off!" Y/n's father exclaimed patted her back.

"She's a Y/l/n, she can do anything." She heard her brother and she ruffled his hair. "But of course, don't forget to introduce us your boyfriend." One of her sister said and she rolled her eyes.

"You can go back to them, we'll be okay." Her mother said but Y/n shook her head.

"I don't think I can leave you guys again." "As long as you can be safe and keep that safe, we'll be safe too." Her father said and her sibling nodded.

"Just remember to visit us on Christmas Day, okay?" Her younger sister said and she nodded. Tears brimming her eyes and she sniffles while trying not to burst out.

"I will always visit you lot." She said hugging them all, causing her to be surrounded by blankets that covered up her family.

Standing up, she waved good bye and walked back towards the car.

"Shall we leave?" Lestrade asked getting his keys. "Yes, let's go." Sherlock said opening the door for Y/n and she entered.

Their ride was quiet until they reached the apartment. "See you three tomorrow? Well if we have a new case for you three." Lestrade said and Sherlock nodded, getting inside first and leaving the door open.

"Yeah, see you Lestrade." Y/n said waving and entering the building.

John got to sleep immediately when he entered the flat, leaving Y/n and Sherlock.

"Well, erm, I guess I should be go-" she was cut off by Sherlock's mumbling. "I'm sorry, what was that?" "That's why I couldn't analyze you. You are unreadable and amazing at it." He said still staring at the fireplace.

"Yes, because of being able to hide from people, I'm never showy with anything." She said standing up and nearing the door.

"Good night Sherlock." She said turning towards her flat. "And yes, I like you. For almost 3 years now." She said never turning to look at him, and entered her flat.

She should've turned, because she never saw the smile Sherlock had hearing it from her. He leaned on his knees ruffling his hair. He continued smiling and sighed.

"Likewise, Y/n. Likewise." He said leaning back on his seat and stared at the ceiling.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock benedict cumberbatch #sherlock #sherlock bbc #sherlock smut #sherlock x reader #john watson #mycroft holmes #sherlock holmes #reader #x reader #sherlock + reader #bbc sherlock x reader

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ragrottend0ll · 3 years

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School Crush (Vinira Fanfic)

(In december I posted this little idea and now I decided to started it, hope you enjoy and forgive the misspelling, english isn’t my first lenguage)

Chapter one:

‘‘I like girls’’. Emira started.

‘‘I like girls, too’’. Amity seconded after a few seconds of silence.

‘‘Ok...’‘. Alador responded a little shook. ‘‘I-- Wow, yeah, ok.’’

‘‘Is that all you are gonna say, dad? Really?’’. Asked Emira. She didn’t spend seven years in the closet for just to get an ok.

Alador shruged a little. ‘’Congratulations...?’’

‘‘Fine, that’s better’‘.

The Blight siblings and Alador were hanging out. This was something that have been happening some time ago. At first it started as a sisters’ night, just for Amity and Emira, but then Edric discovered this and was begging, crying and basically annoying his sisters for let him ‘’in’’.

He finally achived it.

So, every friday night, while their parents were in important meetings or fancy restaurants, the three would reunited in Emiras’s room and just talk. Sometimes they watched a series or practice some makeup. Even tried on clothes from either Edric or Emira. Sometimes they would sing a karaoke or just talk about their day, their friends, Luz, and throw bullshit of their parents.

They didn’t need to worry about the mansion’s staff. They all like them and have never said something bad of them to their parents. Plus, some have sewn up mouths so... Anyway.

What they did not expected was that, one night, their father would return early.

Alador was honestly tired. He have been awake for three days straight and needed some sleep. Even when his lovely wife, Odalia, told/demanded him to stay awake and attend another important meeting, he denied. Alador was sure that, if he stayed awake for another hour, his body will just collapse.

When he arrive to the mansion, the buttler (he never can remember his name, really) was there and took his coat. Alador didn’t wait more and went upstairs. The Bight manor was splendant, huge and, now that he was walking alone through the corridors full of old portraits in the middle of the night, he would consider it spooky.

The portraits gave him chills in his back. He felt like the eyes of his wife’s ancestors were following him in every step he took.

‘‘I wouldn’t be surprise’‘, Alador tought. ‘‘They may be haunted for real’’.

‘‘I should probably ask Odalia about it’’.

Alador walked to his bedroom’s door, and when he was about to open it he heard something.

It was a scream.

‘‘The kids’’. He tought.

Alador ran as fast as his tiredness allow him to the wast wing, where the children’s bedroom were. The screams kept going, ‘’Where is the staff?’’ Alador asked himself mentally. His kids could be diying and non of the guards he hired were even near.

The screams were coming from Emira’s room. But the shouting didn’t sounded like Emira.

He looked at Amity’s and Edric’s doors. They haven’t come out and their doors were closed. Alador was tempted to open the other two door, but decided not to. If his children were being kidnaped, he’ll deal with the kidnapper in Emira’s room first.

Alador took a deep breath and casted a spell, ready to attack if he needed to. He opened the door, fast and hard. What he saw let him speechless.

There was no kidnapper. There was no danger.

But, he really didn’t know what to think about the scene that was display infront of him.

Emira’s room was a disaster. There were snacks in the ground, Alador wonder if Odalia would be mad about it, he answered himself almost inmediatelly with a yes. The room was dark, except for the karaoke that, Alador supposed, one of the twins bought.

Edric was lying in the floor with a microphone in his left hand, while his right hand where finger-brushing his hair. Oh, and he was using Emira’s lastest grom dress and a twelve centimeters tall heels.

Amity was sitting in the little sofa that Em buy two years ago. Her face had some very excentric makeup, specially her eyes. A wildly combination of pink, glitter and black. With red-sparkled lip gloss. Her triangular earings were replaced with a pair of Emira’s expensive earings that were only used for important meeting or fancy parties. She was wearing her regular pajamas, with the slight difference that, over her pants, she was wearing a puffy skirt. And that her feet were covered with long cowboy boots.

Emira was sitting in her bed, face was covered in some kind of skin care treatment. A phosphorescent green skin care treatment. Even with that, she was the most normal looking of the three. All her makeup was in the bed, (probably the responsable of Amity’s face) and her hand was grabbing her scroll, that was recording Edric’s performance, before he opened the door, at least. The scroll was still recording, by the way. Em didn’t have time to stop it before his father abruptely came in the room.

The Blight siblings were looking at him like deers flashed by a light. Each of them praying in their heads that if they don’t move Alador wouldn’t be able to see them, like some of the animal in the isles.

‘‘You... uhm,... arrived early’‘. Edric stated the obvious, crearly nervous. But, can you blame him? Not everyday your dad found you wearing a dress and using heels . Actually that never really hapened to him.

The music of the karaoke was still playing. Alador connected the dots and figured out that his son was the responsable of the screams.

‘‘Yes, I did’‘ Alador responded. He never had been a man of words, but in this moment he didn’t know what would be the correct way to react.

Should he scold them for being up at one in the morning making a fuss? Or He should just close the door and pretend that none of it happened?

He was definitely going to ask the servants if this was something that happened often and why they had not reported those... meetings that their children did.

‘‘Mom’s here, too?’‘ Amity asked. Her face now was now also covered with a strong blush of embarasment, that reached even her neck.

‘‘No, she is still in the meetong with the Hogson’s’‘ Alador answered.

‘‘Do you want to talk this now, or would you preffer to wait until the sun comes out?’‘ Alador asked. He wan’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but the words came out of his mouth even before he could think about it. That was something that didn’t happened to him since high school.

The kids glare at eachother and said a ‘’now’’ at the same time. If they waited for the sun, Odalia was probably going to arrive and they didn’t wanted to have that conversation with their mother.

None conversation, actually.

‘‘Alright’‘ their father said ‘‘Clean your faces and put on presentable clothes’‘

And with that he leave the room.

‘‘That could have been worse, right?’’ Edric said. He finally stoped doing the pose with his hand trought his hair.

‘‘Yeah...’’ Emira answered him ‘‘Mom could have catch us’’

‘‘Titan forbid’’ Amity said.

Once they cleaned their faces and put on their pijamas, the three siblings made their way to Alador’s office, who has completely forgot how tired he was.

They were nervous, Edric, specially. And were honestly surprised when the scolding was more about how they broke the curfew than about all the mess they did.

And after that, things evolved rapidly. The kids felt better in Alador’s pressence than ever before. They trusted their father even more because he didn’t said a thing to Odalia, and even gave the order to the servants to keep those meetings as a secret.

Two months later, Alador found himself spending the family-bonding-time, as Edric renamed it, with his children. The bonding-time had to be moved to saturday’s night, because Alador had the obligation to go to the meeting on friday. But the kids weren’t mad at all.

‘‘Dad?’’, Edric called for him. It has been five minutes since Emira and Amity’s comming out and Alador haven’t said anything esle since the congratulations. ‘‘Girls, I think you shouldn't have done it at the same time; now you’ve killed him’’.

‘‘We didn’t!’’ Amity shouted inmediately.

‘‘No, I think we actually did it, Mittens’’ Emira seconded.

‘‘I’m fine’’ Alador said some time later. The twins were disscussing if they should call an ambulance or just leave their dad there. Emira was drafting in her mind all the possible ways to hide Alador’s corpse in the manor, too. You have to be careful, right?

Alador sit up straight in the couch were she was lying. Before his both daughters come out to him some minutes ago, they were all watching a movie. If Alador had to be honest, he wasn’t really paying attention. He was falling asleep. This week has been rough, but for no reasom he would cancel the saturdaynight bonding time™.

‘‘None of my kids are straight, huh?’’ Alador thought.

Ok, to be fair, Edric haven’t come out to him (yet), but Alador prectically confirm his son’s orientation when he founded him performing when he discovered that friday sisters’ night. No straight, cis, man would use a dress and heels. Not even walk on them in the propper way Edric managed to do.

‘‘So, uhm, are you... mad or...?’’ Amity began.

‘‘Oh, no. No!’’ Alador answered, with a little laught that lately the siblings were more used to hear ‘‘I’m actually kind of relive.’’

‘‘Relieve?’‘ Edric asked, genuinely curious.

‘‘Indeed. I don’t have to worry about any potencial boyfriend and the concecuences that would imply-’’

‘‘Shut!’’ Amity and Emira shouted at the same time. ‘‘The school already teach us that. No need to repeated.’’ Emira continued.

‘‘I was talking about a heartbroken, but yes, sexual education is very important too.’’ Alador said. And, tho he seemed serious, he was teasing his daughters.

‘‘So, you are ok with this?’’

‘‘Yes, Amity.’’

Actually, I’m kind of a pansexual, myself. Alador tought, but keep shut.

The movie was paused. Probably since some time ago but Alador didn’t notice. He glare at Emira’s wall clock. 12:05, it marked.

It was early, Odalia wouldn’t be back until three in the morning. Anyway he open his scroll to verify that his wife haven’t texted him or something.

There was nothing, as expected. Only Odalia’s last message where she told him that she was going to leave the party at 1:45 and was expecting been home around 3:00 a.m.

‘‘So,’‘ Alador started ‘‘any particular reason to tell me your orientation?’’

Yes, it was sweet, but Alador did knew his daughter a little and can almost tell that, at least Emira had something else to say.

‘‘No, no reason.’’ Amity answered. ‘‘Just to tell you with Em.’’

Alador look at his older daugher, waiting for her answer.

Yes, they were closer than bever before, but the sad truth was that even if his children did trusted in him, he didn’t think that they trusted him that much.

It was reasonable, not less hurting, but understandable.

‘‘Well... You see, er. Ok, so. I actually wanted to tell you because, uhm....’’

Alright, now this was new. Alador never in his life had heard Emira stutter.

All his children were raise to be the embodinment of perfection, as Odalia describe it. The three took classes of everything. From music to etiquette, and diction was not left behind.

Now, Alador was sincerely curious.

‘‘There’s this girl in the school, and well-’’

‘‘Emira has a big crush on her.’’ Edric interrupted.

‘‘But Emira can be around her without being a red mess.’‘

‘‘You are one to talk, huh, Mittens.’’ Emira asked. Her cheeks were already a little blushy.

Amity looked away and Emira continue: ‘’My point is, that, her dad is kinda, a little... short budget. And-’’

‘‘Emira, I love you, but if that girl is using you for your money-’’

‘‘No! She isn’t! Sh doesn’t even know that I liked her’’

‘‘Well that’s debatable’’ Edric said ‘‘It’s really obvious and Viney it’s not as oblivious as Luz, plus-’’

‘‘Who’s Luz?’‘ Alador asked.

‘‘It doesn’t matter right now’’ Emira stated. ‘‘The point is, dad, that she didn’t even tell me his dad was in a little hurry. I was walking towards her and she was talking to her friends about it and I just heard a little. When I told her I could give her some snails she declined and actually was pretty mad about it, until last week, when I apologized. But I really want to do something about it.’’ Em talked fast, but Alador, as the good listener he had always been, didn’t missed anything.

‘‘And how can I help?’’ Alador asked.

‘‘Well, you can make him get a job? Maybe here in the manor or somewhere else. Her dad is in the construction coven, I think he is like, the right hand of the leader.’’

Alador hummed. Contruction coven right hand? He was a right hand once, before he was level up to coven leader. And he knew very well the salary of the seconds on board. It was a great amount of snails.

‘‘And before you say something like ‘she’s scamming you’, I want you to know that her family is really big. She has like, twelve siblings, not including her.’’

Alador sigh.

‘‘She really is a good person, dad. And if I can help her, I will.’’

‘‘She’s one of the noblest people we’ve met. There’s no danger’’ Edric said in favor of Emira’s propose.

Alador looked to Amity, who haven’t said much, and asked her with his eyes for her opinion.

‘‘I don’t hang out with her a lot, but she’s indeed good.’’

‘‘Well, I guess I have no other option, do I?’’

‘‘Thank you, dad!’’ Emira shouted and jump to her dad’s lap to trap him in her arms in a tigh hug.

‘‘I don't promise anything, but I'm going to see what I can do.’‘ Alador responded and hug Emira back.

He looked at Edric and Amity and with a head movement he invited both of them to join the hug.

Edric took Amity’s hand and join to it.

Well, Alador thought, I guess I have some work to do now.

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broadstbroskis · 4 years

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five times you shared a bed with your best friend plus one time you didn’t | matthew tkachuk

lol so @slimskjei-dy requested the prompt 16. We’ve been sharing a bed since we were little so why is this weird now? from a list i put out a couple days ago to write blurbs for and this spiraled out of control, so here’s nearly 4k.

one

The Tkachuk’s move into the house next door to your family the summer before you start preschool and at the ripe age of three, you are too young to have any idea what going with your mom to drop off “welcome to the neighborhood” brownies is going to mean for your future.

Really, it likely has more to do with the fact that “welcome to the neighborhood” brownies turned into a glass of “welcome to the neighborhood” wine between your mom and Chantal Tkachuk, which turned into a bottle of wine while you and Matthew played in the backyard with Brady’s chubby little baby legs trying his hardest to keep up.

By the time Keith arrived home from a midday skate session, with your dad awkwardly following behind, babbling about how your mom had just planned on dropping something off quickly but was still missing, their friendship was basically cemented. Chantal and your mom did everything together. And your dads’ friendship didn’t take long to form after that.

Which meant you and Matty were right there with them.

But neither of you cared. You’d settled quickly into a friendship, just like your parents had, where you’d play hockey with him and he’d begrudgingly play soccer with you, and you both pretended you had no idea what Brady was talking about when he ran to tattle that you were ganging up on him and not letting him play.

There’s countless pictures of the two of you growing up, getting into all kinds of trouble, but then also, of the quieter moments too. Sitting too close to the TV watching movies, eagerly waiting by the door for Keith to come home from a road trip with souvenirs, the naps curled up around each other in one of your beds.

“The quietest twenty minutes of the day.” Keith continues to joke, anytime one of those pictures resurfaces.

two

You wince at the sound of glass crashing behind you and decide the best course of action is to keep moving forward with your mission to find Matthew. Whichever hockey bro of Matthew’s house this is can take care of that; it’s not your job.

Besides, the room is spinning from the cheap beer and booze you’d been drinking all night since the two of you arrived at this party, and you’re pretty sure it’s a bad idea to go near glass.

You find Matthew in the kitchen, with a few of his St. Louis hockey bros, a couple of them guys that you’re still friends with even after he’d left to go join the NTDP, as well as a few faces you don’t recognize. You slip up into their circle, sliding under Matty’s arm when it lifts to wrap around your shoulders, grateful for the solid body to lean against.

The room is really starting to spin.

“You okay?” He asks, ignoring whoever’s speaking.

“I don’t think I can go home tonight.” You admit.

He laughs. “Text your mom and tell her you’re staying with me. Big Walt and Chantal are at a tourney with Brady and Taryn; nobody’s home.”

“You don’t think she knows your parents aren’t home?” You scoff, but you’re already pulling out your phone and carefully drafting the text, making sure to avoid any spelling errors that might give your drunkenness away.

“Yeah, but she can’t prove what she hasn’t seen.” Matty winks at you and you roll your eyes.

“Is that what you told your mom after you left her a three minute voicemail at 3am last month?” You chirp at him, smiling at the instant laughter from the friends around you and accepting a fist bump from Luke Kunin.

That line of chirping continues for a few minutes, until Matty manages to turn it around on one of the boys, and then it dissolves into a free for all before they’re all just laughing at each other.

By the time the giggling ends, you’re about three seconds away from falling asleep on Matt’s shoulder, and it’s his nudge that wakes you. “You ready?” You nod, joining him in making goodbyes to your friends, and then following him out the door to begin the walk back toward your houses.

The fresh air does some good to sober you up and you feel marginally less dizzy by the time you and Matt make it to his room. He throws you a t-shirt to change into and you fall into bed after changing, waiting for him to join you, eyes shutting the second you feel the bed settle beside you.

three

The night before Matty’s due to leave for Buffalo for the draft, your phone buzzes with a text from him. You’re expecting more of the same that you’ve been exchanging all day with him-in various group chats with your friends, at a barbeque with both your families, when the two of you were chatting with Brady while you hid in the far corner with the beers you snuck while Taryn and your sister were off doing their thing.

It’s not. Let me in the text says, so you shove the blankets down and make your way downstairs to open the door for him.

“Shh.” You tell him. “They’re all asleep.”

“It’s 3am, of course they are!” He whispers back.

“Well so was I until you woke me up!” You start walking back toward your room, knowing he’ll follow.

Matthew doesn’t speak again until the two of you are in your room, the door is closed, and he’s lying on his side to face you in your bed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You can’t possibly be nervous.” You whisper back, knowing he’s talking about the draft. He shrugs and you reach your hand out to shove his shoulder down, allowing it to rest there. “Matty.” He blinks at you a few times as you think of what to say next. “You’re gonna go somewhere and you’re going to be great. One of these teams is going to love you enough to draft you and everyone after them is going to be mad they didn’t have the chance to and almost everyone before them is going to be mad they didn’t end up picking you and you’re going to go off to whatever city does and forget all about me back here.”

Matthew wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him so you move your hand from the top of his shoulder around to rub at the blade gently. “First of all, that’ll never happen. You’re stuck with me forever.”

You nod seriously. “Somebody’s got to put up with you.”

He pokes you in the side for that one and you have to bite your lip to keep in the squeal of laughter. “Second of all, almost? Almost everyone is going to me mad they didn’t pick me?”

“Leafs got first pick to get Auston! I just don’t think they’re going to regret that!” He pokes you again and you don’t manage to hide the squeal this time. “Matty! Everyone’s sleeping!”

“You should be nicer to me.” He tells you, once you settle down.

“I should be nicer to you? You wake me up at 3am to talk you off the ledge and I should be nicer to you?”

He nods, pulling you even closer to bury his face in your hair. “Always.”

You laugh, the sound muffled into his chest now. “Are we all good now?”

“Hmm?” He says, sounding sleepy already.

“Never mind.” You tell him, rubbing his back again. “Good night, Matty.”

“G’night.”

four

Calgary is a thousand times more incredible than you’d ever imagined. You’d been teasing Matty about being stuck in a frozen wasteland, sending him snaps from sunny gamedays at Mizzou and laughing anytime you get one in return with snow in the picture.

There’s snow on the ground when you arrive in December, fresh out of finals, and still feeling both the mental exhaustion from your exams and the hangover from a day of binge drinking with your friends immediately after they’d ended. You’ll never fly hungover again; the next time you do this, you’ll leave yourself a day of rest between exams and flying up to visit your best friend, since you know you won’t stop drinking earlier.

College is making you smarter already!

Matthew actually laughs when he meets you in the pick up lane, like puts his head on the steering wheel and has to hold off on driving. He gets honked at by the car behind him. “Your laugh is making my headache worse.” You whine.

“So I take it you don’t want the bottle of wine I bought for us to split tonight?”

You look over at him suspiciously. “What kind of wine?”

He laughs again, but softer this time. “Atta girl.”

It’s a red blend, a favorite of the two of you, but a much nicer one than you’ve ever bought before. You let out a low whistle as Matthew places the order for dinner. “Suddenly you’ve got some cash flow and Barefoot’s too good?”

“Hell yeah! Wait until you see what kind of vodka I got for us for Saturday.”

You perk up. “What’s on Saturday?”

“Party with the team before my parents come in.”

You laugh, accepting the glass of wine he pours for you. “You don’t think Big Walt would want to come to the party?”

Matty gives you a look. “I know that’s exactly what would happen and that’s why I told them to come Sunday.”

“Smart thinking.” You admit.

“See, who needs college?” He teases, which settles the two of you into your familiar teasing and banter while you wait for the food to arrive.

It isn’t too long after dinner and Netflix that you and Matthew are heading to bed, pressing yourself as close as you can to suck up as much warmth that he’s radiating. “Fuck, your feet are cold.” Matty mutters as you giggle and press your toes into his calf.

“Haven’t you missed me?” You sling your leg over his for maximal toe digging, laughing when he jumps.

“I guess.” He says, but his tone says Absolutely.

five

“So what are your plans for after graduation?”Ashley, Sean Monahan’s girlfriend (and soon-to-be fiancee if Matty was to be believed) looks at you during a stoppage of play late in the third.

“God, don’t remind me.” You groan. You’d wrapped the fall semester of your senior year a couple days ago and then taken off to Calgary in what had become your annual post-finals trip. It’d be the last one you ever took, with your final semester of college looming over your head.

Ashley grins. She’d become a close friend of yours over all your trips to visit Matthew, even flying down to St. Louis last season when the Flames were in town and spending a weekend with some of the other girls visiting you at school afterwards. “Just come hang out up here forever.”

You burst into laughter. “And live where?”

She gives you a look, like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “With Matt?”

“Oh my god, you’re serious.” It takes a full minute for you to recover. Play has resumed, there’s a minor scrum on the ice in front of the two of you but you barely even notice, too shocked by Ashley’s words.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because why would I ever?”

“Because you already do.” She says, with more patience than you’ve possessed in your entire life combined, and then laughs at the look on your face. “YN, what you two have is so special! To fall in love with your best friend at age three and still feel that way is amazing! If Sean and I can look at each the way you and Matt do after twenty years, we could only be so lucky.”

“We’re not in love.” You deny. “Matty and I-we’re just-we’re not.”

Ashley bites her lip, but doesn’t push it any further. “Alright.” She agrees, and thankfully, the game ends there, so you’re able to just gather your things with her and make your way down toward the family room to meet the boys.

But you can’t get her words out of your head as you and Matthew arrive back to his place and start getting ready to go to bed. You move around each other with a practiced ease, handing him the toothpaste before he even asks for it and accepting the oversized sweatshirt he passes to you, somehow knowing that you’re extra chilly tonight.

Lying next to him in bed, the same way you have for nearly twenty years, suddenly feels suffocating. You roll onto your side, hoping for some room to breath, but now it just feels awkward; this isn’t how you sleep.

You sit up, ditching the sweatshirt. Maybe you’re just too warm. Lying back and pulling the covers back up does nothing to solve that problem, and actually, you’re shivering, so you sit back up and yank the sweatshirt back on.

“Could you settle down?” Matty mumbles, pulling you into his side the second that you’re flat again. His arm rests on your waist, thumb in the dip of your hip, a position it’s been in many times, but suddenly you think you’re having trouble breathing. You open your mouth to tell him this, but he presses a kiss to your temple and says, “Relax, just sleep.”

You don’t sleep a wink the entire night.

plus one

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Dylan, a good friend of both yours and Matthew’s, is usually one of the most upbeat people you know, so the sound of disappointment coming throughout your phone actually makes you wince. “YN?”

“I just-” You hesitate. You’d have to leave right now in order to get to St. Louis in time to make the Skills Competitions, and even then you might be pushing it, and things were still weird for you with Matty, as evidenced by how things were between the two of you when he came home for his short Christmas break. And things were weird. Everyone noticed- your families, your friends, Matthew. The two of you had spoken only once since, in the group chat where Matthew had texted an invite to your group chat to come home for the weekend for the All Star Weekend and you’d noncommittally responded wow that’d be awesome. “I’m super busy.” You finish lamely.

Dylan sighs. “Look, YN, I don’t know what the fuck is going on between you and Matt and I don’t really care. It’s not my business. But I know he’d really want you there no matter what’s going on and I know you’ll regret not going if you don’t.”

You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. He’s right. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Dyl.”

“Hell yeah,” Dylan cheers.

By the time you make it to St. Louis, you have to race to meet your friends in your seats and the cheer they send up is poorly timed, but it does make you smile. “Shitty seats.” You accept the bottle of Bud Light someone passes you.

Dylan laughs and points up to the giant platform next to you guys. “He’s going to be shooting from there in a while.”

“Alright.” You nod. “I guess this is acceptable then.”

It’s a good while before Matty and the rest of the guys participating in the Shooting Stars event start making their way up, but it’s nice to catch up with your other friends while you wait. If you got a big cheer when you rolled in, the one that goes up when Matthew walks by is deafening (and boostered by the friends of Brady’s that are sitting right behind you guys). The two of them look over at you guys, grinning already, and you see it in Matthew’s face when he spots you, the smirk softening a little and his eyes locking on you.

You’d read about moments where time stands still but it’d never actually happened to you until now. It’s like the crowd doesn’t exist around you, like you don’t actually need to breathe. The only thing that matters is the moment in time when your eyes meet Matty’s.

And that moment’s broken by Brady shoving him forward.

As you watch Matthew throughout the entirety of the last event, you know you’re screwed. You’ll get through this weekend, go back to school, and get over these thoughts by the time summer comes. Everything will be back to normal by the time you see Matty again.

In the meantime, you do your best to avoid him once the Skills Competition ends and you join everyone at the after party on the rooftop bar of the hotel. It’s easier than you think it would be to do. When Matty’s talking with some of your local friends, you find yourself catching up with both sets of your parents. When he starts making his way toward your parents, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. You see him make a beeline towards the bar, so you dart off in the opposite direction, where Brady is talking with a couple of his Atlantic Division teammates and push yourself in between the height of him and Auston Matthews, which seems like a safe spot to hide.

“YN!” Auston grins, throwing his hands up in the air, in a drunken greeting that you’d love to be more lowkey.

You reach up and grab them, yanking them down. “Listen, I know it’s been a while since we’ve last hung out and all, and I know from the way you talk and dress and everything about you that this is a hard thing for you to comprehend, but I’m really going to need some subtlety from you.” Next to him, Mitch and Freddie burst into laughter. “Down low, boo. Down low.”

Auston is laughing as well and you remember that while the times you’ve spent with him have been few and far between, unable to visit Matthew as frequently during his time with the NTDP as you have been in Calgary, they’ve certainly been memorable...so moments like this are unshocking to him, to say the least.

They don’t even faze Brady, who’d grown up with both you and Matthew, and is merely looking at you with an entirely too familiar smirk and a raised brow. “What’s the subtlety for, YN?”

“Fuck off, Brady.” You flip your middle finger up at him quickly but it’s just enough time for the entire group of hockey players around you to pounce. You really should have known better.

“I knew something was up!” Auston grins.

“Nothing’s up.” You deny, very poorly.

“Really?” Brady grins. “‘Cause Matt’s like right there.” He points. “On his way here. So I guess if nothing’s wrong, you can-” He starts immediately laughing when you shove your way out of them.

You think you manage to lose your best friend by pushing through a large group of players and family from the Metro and Central divisions and throwing yourself out the door to the outdoor patio, which is mostly empty, despite the unseasonably warm winter St. Louis has been experiencing. You can see Brady, Auston, and Quinn laughing together through the glass door, but Matty’s nowhere to be found, and you sit down on the closest bench, taking a minute to just breathe.

“You gotta tell me what I did.” The voice scares you, but it shouldn’t, because you really should have known better than to think that Matty wouldn’t be able to find you.

When you look over at Matty on the bench beside you, you can’t think of another time he’s looked this devastated. Maybe that semi-final loss in World Juniors? Maybe? It’s all over his face and you can’t just leave him like this any longer. “It’s not you.” You tell him, holding back tears. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it!” Matthew says, frustratedly.

“You can’t fix it!” You sniffle, trying to scoot away from him, to give yourself some distance, and feeling the tears start to fall when he closes that space again. “You can’t go back and stop Ashley from making me realize that I’m in love with you, okay? So you can’t fix this and I just-I need some time, Matty! Okay? I need some time!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” He breathes, like he’s only just recovered the ability to talk, which, he might have, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes, which puts you in a perfect position considering he’s already leaning toward you.

Matthew fumbles for a second, his hand reaching for your cheek and catching your ear instead with you turning, but he recovers quickly, stroking gently down the side of your face. You gasp, the kiss entirely unexpected, and Matty takes the opportunity to tug on your lip gently before pulling away and you let out a whimper at the loss of contact.

He smirks.

“Don’t be smug.” You shove at his shoulder.

“Don’t be stupid.” He repeats, pulling you closer. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t be in love with you?”

“I didn’t want to ruin us.” You tell him softly. “But I am willing to concede I was wrong.”

Matty grins. “Sure were. Can do this anytime I want now.” He kisses you again, leaving you just as breathless as before.

You suppose, at some point, that’ll start to wear off, but as the two of you trade lazy kisses on the rooftop, you can’t imagine that point ever coming. This is perfection, this is the piece of your relationship you didn’t even know was missing coming together, this is-

-Brady knocking on the window?

What?

You blink again, realizing where you’re at. Still on the rooftop bench, with your arm wrapped around Matty’s neck, your legs draped over his lap, and your face tucked into his shoulder. Matthew’s arms are wrapped around your waist, holding you close, and his head rests on top of yours. Somehow still asleep through all the banging Brady’s been doing.

“Matty.” You poke him awake.

“What?” He groans, sitting up.

“Brady.” Matthew looks over at the window, where Brady is still gesturing that it’s time to leave, with a very smug grin on his face. Matthew lifts one hand off your waist to flip his brother off, allowing you to climb off.

“You couldn’t have answered any of the texts we sent you?” Brady asks, once you step inside, but he doesn’t sound annoyed at all, still looking between the two of you with the biggest grin on his face.

Matthew shrugs. “Must have fallen asleep.”

“Bullshit.”

“You just saw us!”

Brady rolls his eyes, knowingly. “Just kiss her already.”

Matty grins. “Gladly.” And then he’s pressing a heated kiss against your lips, looping his arm around your waist, and it’s all you can do to grip his arm with one hand to keep yourself standing and flip off the crowd around you with your other as whoever’s left at this after party burst into applause and wolf-whistles.

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfic #matthew tkachuk fanction #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagines #hockey fanfic #my hockey fics

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aurieeeeeenyx · 3 years

Text

/rp

ahaha ignore the fact that this was supposed to be posted a month ago

(edit before posting: after reading through everything i’ve written...holy crap this got much longer than i expected)

it’s been sitting in my drafts for forever and the point is kinda moot now lmao but idk i don’t wanna delete it so. here’s the part i had written:

alright, let’s talk about quackity and fundy. i know the december 2nd stream was intense for a number of reasons, particularly because of tommy trying to trap dream and dream just snapping on him, but i want to focus on quackity and fundy’s reactions to it all.

quick disclaimer: i have not watched every single stream (i haven’t watched a lot of them, in fact) so if what i say down below is inaccurate/inconsistent with quackity and fundy’s behavior in other streams, that’s why. also, again, this is about quackity and fundy’s CHARACTERS and is in no way an analysis of their irl selves.

let’s start with the meeting.

before the meeting, tubbo tells tommy to behave himself. quackity and fundy join in, all three of them worried about tommy messing up in front of dream and throwing new l’manberg into even more danger.

during the meeting, quackity and fundy are mostly silent (i think; at the very least, i don’t remember them saying anything particularly memorable or important, aside from iterations of “sign the document and get it over with” or something like that).

when tommy starts up with his spirit business, quackity and fundy are immediately against it. tubbo tells tommy to stop, and quackity and fundy are apparently “speechless” that tommy would dare to so blatantly antagonize dream. they tell him he’s being crazy, and to stop.

but.

not even a minute later, they’re suddenly on tommy’s side. fundy repeatedly tries to explain to tubbo why tommy’s right, why tommy’s doing the right thing and how this is so much better for l’manberg.

(here’s where i stopped lmao, but in my notes i had a couple quotes:)

“we didn’t initiate it” - fundy, referring to when tommy started threatening to burn spirit and dream got pissed

“if there’s anyone to pin the blame on, it’s tommy” - quackity, when tubbo holds them accountable for their actions and compliance in tommy’s plan

now, let’s look at that quote.

“if there’s anyone to pin the blame on, it’s tommy.”

isn’t that interesting? he wants to pin the blame on someone else. he doesn’t want to get a figurative black mark on his record. he wants to get away with this scot-free, and he tries, and he mostly succeeds, because he has a silver tongue. fundy tries to worm his way out of the blame as well, saying that they didn’t start it and therefore it wasn’t their fault. tubbo says it doesn’t matter -- and he’s right, they still provoked dream regardless of who started it -- but the point still stands, especially since the whole who’s-right-tubbo-or-tommy controversy/argument dragged quackity and fundy into it. they’re just trying to be in the right. but the thing is, they keep switching sides to do it.

basically: quackity (and fundy as well) isn’t on either of their sides. he’s on his own side. he builds a country of his own. he ropes karl, george and sapnap into helping him stage what is essentially a bombing in order to bring attention to mexican l’manberg, and then goes on to steal the throne. he talks fundy and tubbo into trying to assassinate techno, and when that fails, he decides to go after dream. the whole “butcher army” thing is entirely quackity’s idea. he says it’s for l’manberg, but is it really?

in the 12/16 stream, his priorities are especially apparent:

“i’m building a country,” he says.

quackity cares about mexian l’manberg (now el rapids) more than he cares about l’manberg, or tubbo, or tommy. in his mind, they are no more than tools to justify and help him achieve his own goals.

“i don’t give a **** about the withers, techno.”

this isn’t about l’manberg. techno destroyed l’manberg with those withers, who cares? quackity doesn’t. and he tells techno this, because he knows that even if techno told tubbo what he said, nobody would believe him. why trust an anarchist -- a traitor -- trying to tear your country down?

but he uses the excuse in front of tubbo, in front of the butcher army, to convince them to help him. this is for the good of l’manberg, tubbo, why won’t you help me? you should help me, it’s your duty as president. you don’t want to be a bad president, do you?

“i don’t care how long it takes, techno, i’m going to kill you.”

his plans might not be for l’manberg, but they certainly do serve his craving for revenge. is killing techno (and dream) beneficial for his country? yes, sort of (he apparently refuses to acknowledge the fact that both of them can just...respawn, and now they’ve got a vendetta against him). is he also out for blood, just because he can? because he’s power hungry? also yes. sure, quackity wants techno and dream dead because he thinks it’ll help el rapids survive. but if it also gives him a sense of satisfaction, of victory? knowing that he’s triumphed over the server’s gods? well, no one has to know.

as for fundy, he separated from l’manberg and went and established his own country: drywaters. he has no loyalty to l’manberg. he has no loyalty to tubbo.

with tommy exiled (and now living in techno’s house) and dream as his only “real” ally (whom he is now conspiring against), tubbo is very, very alone.

can you imagine? being seventeen years old, made president of a crater when you never wanted power, only for everyone to use you and leave you behind. for everyone to call you a monster, the legacy of the man who killed you, when you’re just trying to do what’s best for your country.

stop saying tubbo’s the next schlatt. he’s not.

this is quackity’s villain arc.

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rataltouille · 3 years

Note

19 & 20 for the writer asks? @/aetherwrites

19. what does your editing/revising process look like?

editing? what’s that, some kind of plant? /j

no but with the way it’s going it might as well be. especially considering that i have never fully edited something, and am experimenting with different methods of editing depending on the purpose / what the story itself needs. i write short stories and then forget they exist and require editing until like months later [horrible habit, i’m aware]. with the short story i’m working on right now, which is also the first short story i’m editing properly, i tried printing + editing it out on paper. and very quickly i learned that it did NOT work for me; i found it very cumbersome and did not like the extra work with transferring the edits oops. then by the time i was through with this edit i realised than what this story needs is a revamp + rewrite so i did that and currently the first draft of the new version is just sitting in my drafts!! being intimidating!!! i really need to stop letting my stories simmer for months before i even touch them!!!!

with my novel i’m only running through each chapter once with my grammarly keyboard to catch obvious typos and then reading through each chapter to smooth out lines and grammar and such! it’s a story that’s for myself so i’m not super harsh on the line level work + since i edited the novel as i wrote it, the plot is where i want it to be already.

tl;dr whatever editing “process” i do is very very inconsistent and not great because i always forget and/or am too intimidated to edit at all. with time i’ll probably get some rhythm but that’s,,,, going to take a while.

20. what’s the most time you’ve ever spent on one wip?

the answer for this surprises me so much because it ISN’T house plants, aka my first novel, which took me around nine months to create and draft?? but it’s this short story???? called “to mimic the sun”??? that has been in the works since it’s first draft which was a week or two before i started house plants. i decided to rewrite this because the first draft was a 500 word flash fiction thing [execution was terrible] i wrote as a part of an exercise and decided to rewrite it as a proper short story because i liked the concept! i officially started the second draft in july and i’m only a thousand words in and i literally set the deadline on mywriteclub as december 31, 2021 lmao. to be fair this is not really an active project and i open the draft like every few months and add a few hundred words and there’s that. it’ll probably take me like a week to finish the whole thing but my mind refuses to work on it for some reason. all this drama for a short story.

#i will finish tmts one day though because the story truly does slap #and i love the imagery + setting #when? now that is a question i cannot answer.#actually WAIT #my longest wip is technically helium throat #because that bad boy has been around since like 2016 albeit in a very raw and different form #yeah never mind that one’s my longest will and still will be because i plan to novelist it sometime in the future oops #too tired to edit the actually answer but if you read my tags (hi) then you know ig!#ask game

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zabiume · 3 years

Text

So, @recurring-polynya is someone who’s fics I had the great fortune of stumbling across, earlier this year (and I still don’t remember how, but I am so glad I did). I was always a passive RenRuki fan, but polynya yanked me by the collars and said “you’re gonna love this ship. I dare you to do it, I want you to do it,” and I did! She’s so talented and her fics always cheer me up because she’s just That Good. And while I did promise her that one Renji-Byakuya Stranded in the WoTL fic (I AM WORKING ON IT!!!!), I did find this in my drafts and thought there is no one better to gift it to. Happy holidays, polynya, I hope you have an amazing and safe one filled with the happiest and nicest things <3!

Title: he’s making a list, he’s checking it twice!

Pairing: Abarai Renji & Kuchiki Byakuya (platonic)

Summary: For the first time in decades, Kuchiki Byakuya is stumped. The problem? He has to buy his impulsively loudmouthed, graciously dimwitted, exceedingly loyal adjutant... a Christmas present.

Post-TYBW, but pre-RenRuki being married. Awkard fluff, humor, 2.2k (Read on AO3).

It was perhaps his general discomfort with the holiday season, or with any Living World custom that made waves in Seireitei for that matter, that had Kuchiki Byakuya mildly uncomfortable -- bordering on perturbed -- one late December night. He found work meetings in general to be rather incommodious, rife with matters that were either frivolous or could have simply been a memo. Sometimes both.

But work meetings that were not work meetings at all...Byakuya had a certain bone to pick with those. Friday evenings were dedicated for an early night in with his sister, an intimate but distant enough activity he had rather come to enjoy. Fate so happened however, that the esteemed Captain of the Sixth and the newly appointed Acting Captain of the Thirteenth were now trudging back home, calves-deep in snow.

All because of the upcoming Captain-Lieutenant Gift Exchange. Byakuya would have liked to file an objection with whoever had come up with such a daft idea, but it had seemed that most Captains seemed utterly delighted at the mandate that they would have to give their respective lieutenants ‘Christmas presents’ this year.

Byakuya pictured himself buying Abarai Renji virtually anything, and it made him shrivel in abject horror. Was it not enough that he sparred with the man once in two weeks and rated his performance as ‘passable’? Was he absolutely required to submit himself to the mortifying ordeal of gift-giving?

He was.

“I mean, if you’re that opposed to it, Kuchiki,” newly-instated Captain-Commander Kyoraku had said, chidingly, “I’m sure you and your squad could always pick up extra recons with the Eleventh.”

Byakuya had shuddered. If there was anything that made him lose sleep more than the prospect of being vulnerable, it was the prospect of having to collaborate with the Eleventh over something.

He frowned at the thought. He had yet to raise his voice in complaint with Rukia, but he could tell from the way her eyes were glimmering with mild curiosity that she suspected he was not...too pleased with the latest developments.

"If you wish to ask me a question, you may," Byakuya pointed out, a bit petulantly.

Rukia's eyes widened, and if it hadn't been for her eternal struggle to keep up with his long strides, he was sure she would have stopped dead in her tracks. She cocked her head to one side to regard Byakuya, then said slowly, "I don't think it's such a bad idea for the Gotei to be a little more...involved with each other. With the war and everything.”

Byakuya was scandalized at this. His sister? Defending champion, only second to himself, in bricking herself off? Wanting activities that merited more involvement of the social kind?

Suddenly, he registered with a belated clarity that her tone had been slightly watery. Memories of death, the very brink of it that had threatened several of Rukia’s cherished ones.The actual death that had plagued her in grief so insurmountable she had taken to long evening strolls with his lieutenant, and avoidant hours of paperwork late into the night. Of course.

He arched a brow. “I find it untimely that the new Captain-Commander suggests such a frivolous activity at a time like this,” he said carefully, “Especially considering your workload is already quite full without the consideration of ice-breakers.”

Rukia shrugged, though there was a slight icy sliver passing through her eyes at his comment, not unnoticed by either of them. If there was anything Kuchiki Rukia detested, it was her skills and abilities being undermined. Even if it was out of concern.

She shook her head nonetheless as they rounded a corner. “I don’t have a lieutenant yet, technically, since I’m still just Acting Captain,” she said distantly, “so this doesn’t bother me either way.”

He found that to be a relief.

Rukia’s eyes, however, regarded him with tantamount amusement. “You have to get Renji something, though,” she said, seeming highly entertained by the notion. “Decided on what to get him yet?”

Scratch that. Byakuya decided a headache was coming on.

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

On the lieutenants’ side, things were more or less the same -- for the most part.

“If the Captain gets me something, I might actually die,” Kira said flatly, then carried on quickly, “Again.”

Everyone pointedly avoided looking at the Hole, shifting and fidgeting to create space between themselves and Kira’s rather morbid attire.

“You guys are such buzzkills,” Rangiku said airily, taking a light sip of her beer before clonking it down. “It’s Christ-mas, what’s wrong with a little gift-giving?”

“Oh, hush, Rangiku,” Hinamori said, mimicking her. “You have it easy. Shiro-chan will probably get you vouchers for those stores you like and call it a day.”

“Or maybe even a gallon of booze,” Kira muttered under his breath.

“Ah!” Rangiku lounged in her seat, awfully cat-like as she rested an arm on Hisagi’s thick shoulder. “He knows me so well!”

“I think Captain Kensei’s gonna get me a motorbike,” Hisagi bragged hopefully, bouncing his muscle so Rangiku’s elbow bobbed up and down with it.

“You think or you wish?” Renji asked skeptically, as Hinamori nodded in agreement beside him.

“Does he know you’re calling him Captain Kensei?” Kira added, raising his brows. Hisagi was undeterred in his excitement, however. It was only in his wildest dreams that he had ever imagined his father fi-- respected idol to have to be put in this situation and he was unapologetic about it.

Before the conversation could carry on, however, Hinamori prodded Renji in his side with an elbow. “Abarai’s been awfully quiet,” she suggested curiously.

Renji’s ears burned as everyone suddenly turned their gaze on him.

“Oh, poor Abarai,” Rangiku wailed, and he wondered just how many beers had been passed around for her to get to this state of Extreme Concern. “At this point the most you can expect is like, a greeting card.”

“Or cash,” Hisagi added, then paused, “Though a bonus doesn’t sound too bad, does it?”

Kira and Rangiku nodded along. Kira turned to Renji with a contemplative frown, “He is of nobility, though, so it’s very likely you might get a bottle of expensive, vintage alcohol worth your entire life savings,” he mused. “It’s a very uninvolved and easy gift. Nobles do that all the time for house-warmings and baby showers and such.”

Noticing Renji’s growing discontent, however, Hinamori added kindly, “It’s okay, Abarai. My Captain’s probably going to get something weird for me, too. At least yours won’t be insanely personal to the point of uncomfortable.”

Renji shook his head. “It’s not that,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “The Cap’n’s very particular about giving out things. Things like paperwork, and extra drills and sparring are his rewards for good work.”

Kuchiki Byakuya did not hand out advice generously. And Renji quite liked having to earn his rewards through hard work. They had a system. It worked. It seemed like a horrible idea to have his Captain do the mental gymnastics to buy him a present.

Not to mention totally awkward.

He noticed everyone was giving him a weird look. “What?”

“I’m just glad we don’t have to get them shit,” Rangiku said, after a long pause where everyone had seemingly decided not to bother with Renji anymore. “Paycheck’s coming in a little low this year and the Captain is already so hard to shop for!”

The conversation moved on seamlessly, but Renji was still stuck on the one little detail.

It was going to be so awkward.

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

“He’s your lieutenant, Kuchiki,” Hitsugaya grumbled, arms crossed as they stood by each other after a particularly long Captain’s meeting. “Don’t you know him at all?”

He did. Abarai Renji was a strange man, one who valued hard work and self-improvement almost as much as he did. His respect for regimen, for order and learning was – it was zealous, to say the least.

He could give the man twenty hours of extra paperwork and only receive minor complaining in return. What could one give to a madman like that?

“What are you giving your adjutant?” Byakuya enquired with a frown. If anyone accused him of floundering, he would have no qualms about firing off his bankai in polite company like the once sullen-tempered youth he had been.

Hitsugaya shrugged. “There’s that Living World boutique by District 21 that she likes,” he explained solemnly. “I am well acquainted with the owner, it should be no big deal to secure a voucher or two.” He tucked his arms behind his back and nodded at Byakuya with a cool seriousness in his eyes. “It will be alright. Abarai is not a particular man; I’m sure you’ll find something to his tastes.”

Somehow, Byakuya highly doubted it.

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

Renji slid the door of the Sixth’s office and stepped in, the little ‘swoosh’ of the thin door sounding off behind him.

He immediately froze when he noticed his Captain still sitting at his desk, hunched over something. His eyes drifted to the clock. It was late. Renji had purposefully decided to return when it was. Why was Byakuya still here?

Upon closer inspection of the man’s pale hands, he noticed several brightly-colored, flashy pamphlets declaring all sorts of percentages off on…sunglasses, of all things.

Did Rukia put him up to this? Renji decided it would be so her to suggest her brother get him sunglasses in the dead of winter. He flushed. It was another moment before he realized he and Byakuya were staring at each other, like lost sheep in a herd clinging to each other for guidance.

Byakuya cleared his throat. “The Eighth has just signed the demand draft for equipment charges.”

Renji pretended not to notice the winter coat catalogue by his desk as he came up to his own. He nodded, wanting the ground to bury him. “That’s – that’s good, Captain,” he said. “I’ll have our guys secure the payment by Monday.”

There was a moment’s worth of silence. Then, Renji decided he was about done with this whole Captain-Lieutenant Exchange thing. He braced himself, then straightened as he spoke,

“You know, sir, with all due respect, you don’t have to get me anything.” He felt a wave of something as Byakuya arched a brow. “I mean, we already had our hands full with the Quincy War and everythin’ and I just think we should focus on getting the squad back in shape. Patchin’ the holes, fillin’ up expense reports – that sorta thing.” He paused, wondering why barrages of words seemed to flow whenever he was especially nervous. It was not a trait he really liked about himself. Besides, the Captain usually cut him off halfway anyway, so…

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Renji braved a glance at him. “I, uh, I’m not much of a gift guy so it’s – it’s okay.”

Byakuya’s expression gave nothing away about his inner predicament. Renji felt beads of sweat starting to pool down his forehead.

“I see,” he said, finally.

“Yep,” Renji replied, scratching his ear. He lifted the demand draft slip from Byakuya’s table, pretended his long fingers didn’t brush the ‘25% off, at Gin Tonbo only this weekend’ as he held it up. “Gonna mail this in.”

Byakuya nodded curtly.

As Renji began rushing out of the office again, he felt a swarm of heat fill his face. Would there ever be a confrontation with Kuchiki Byakuya that left him feeling like less of an idiot?

Verdict: unlikely.

❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅ ❅

On Christmas morning, Renji traipsed up to his office with a new vigor. They had just discharged their last officer from General Relief, everyone finally had the required number of limbs to get back in training. The absolute icing on cake had been that he had the afternoon off and Rukia had picked some seedy bar that didn’t give a shit about Christmas but had plenty of beer to go to.

That worked for him. He had had enough with Christmas anyway.

All that was left was for him to inform his Captain he’d be leaving, and then clock out.

When he approached the mouth of their joint offices, however, it was empty.

Byakuya usually didn’t leave any notes to say where he was going, but Renji generally knew where he’d be and for once, he didn’t. When Renji saw a pot, meticulously wrapped with a bow in the distinct Kuchiki cross-knot style, however, his heart leapt to his throat.

He thought…but the discussion they’d had the other day ended all conversation about gift-giving, hadn’t it?

Renji gingerly stepped towards the table, like he was afraid of setting off a tripwire. When he arrived closer to the edge, he noticed that the pot had a spiral of tiny, purple specks straining and rising towards the sun. The plant had barely started flowering, but it was vibrant – distinct enough that the pleasant odour of its bloom pervaded his senses.

To his utter and complete shock, there was a note. Renji used two trembling fingers to peel it off the pot, then glanced around his shoulders once to see if anyone else was in the office.

At the subsequent vacancy, he unfolded the flap of the expensive-smelling card.

The catmint, as a species, is characterized by its resilience. Strong-willed and remarkably persistent, it can be found braving the harshest winters with an admirable economy. This particular cultivar has been groomed in the Kuchiki Estate. I hope you will find it to your liking.

- Kuchiki Byakuya

28th Head, House of Kuchiki

Captain of the Sixth, Gotei 13

#byakuya is horrible at this #renji abarai #i refuse to have a byakuya tag #myfic #bleachmas 2020

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imaginationintowords · 4 years

Text

Falling

Harry Styles x Famous!Reader angst

[Plot: inspired/loosely based on Harry’s song Falling. Harry and his famous ex sit down to talk, for the first time since their breakup years prior.]

[hope you guys like this. Started drafting this last month after I first heard Falling. Let me know what you think!]

To support my ko-fi

When Y/n was approached to do this interview she had agreed to do so, with an open mind. She was finally in a place where she could talk about what had happened without breaking down or feeling any kind of negative reaction. She had finally healed, properly in private over the past few years. She had finally moved on, found someone who treats her as their equal. But something stilled seemed off, it wasn't until her therapist brought up the idea of finally getting closure. Closure. She would finally be able to ask the questions she had let go, the insecurities that sometimes still loomed over her current relationship. So she agreed to do this artist on artist interview when approached by Variety.

Yes it was a way to promote the new movie that she is not only staring in, but co-wrote with one of her best friends. A movie inspired by heartbreak. She didn't do it for the promo though, the movie was already generating Oscar buzz. She is doing it for herself, to finally close this chapter once and for all. Once it was closed for good, everyone would stop hounding her about what had happened, and if there was any hope for reconciliation, even though she herself has been in a committed two year relationship. She needed to do this to show the world that she is more than just this person's ex.

She was more surprised to hear that he had agreed to do it. There was no one more private than Harry Styles.

This would be the first time they have seen and talked to each other since their breakup in December of 2015. The producers had asked if she wanted to meet him before they started shooting, she declined. If she was going to do this she was going to do this all the way.

The producers decided on having Harry waiting on set in front of the cameras, then Y/n would walk in and greet him. They wanted to keep it as natural as they possibly can in a room filled with cameras and people. The setup was perfect for an intimate one on one. No one off camera was going to be allowed to give any input. It was all on Harry and Y/n to keep the conversation going. Last minute they decided to only have a limited of people in the room, to respect the two artists who were about to bare it all out. So in the end it would be two camera guys, the director, one producer, Harry and Y/n's manager, Harry's mum Anne, who had decided to come last minute, and the two main acts.

"You ready?" Cat, Y/n's manager, asked her as the sound guy finished putting her mic on.

"Yeah. I am." Y/n nodded, looking at herself one final time, before they began the short walk to set.

When Y/n walked in she was greeted by the director and producer, politely shaking their hands. She immediately felt his eyes on her from where he sat in front of the cameras, patiently waiting for her. For once in her life she actually wasn't nervous, she had been nervous the last couple of weeks leading up to this, but right now as she listens to the director explaining what's going to happen, she feels a sense of relief, to finally get the closure she deserves.

Harry on the other hand was a bundle of nerves, he hasn't been able to sleep properly since he agreed to do this. He had only agreed because he wasn't expecting Y/n to agree to do it. She had kept his name out of her mouth in the media since the day they broke up. He had a feeling she and her team also had him blacklisted, any media outlet forbidden to ask Y/n questions about him and their failed relationship.

When he had heard she agreed to do it, he could have sworn his heart stopped for a second. He was actually going to have to do this. That scared the shit out of him. He would have to be vulnerable in front of not just the world, but the girl that he had broken. The girl that still to this day occupied his mind from time to time. The girl that he couldn’t help but compare all the other girls after to. The girl that he still wrote songs about to this day. The girl that just by being in the same room as her had him falling in love all over again.

The second he saw her enter the room, his heart stopped, his breath got caught in his throat. Everything just stood still. She had always had that affect on him. Making him fall just by the sight of her. He was finally able to see her beauty again in person, photos online didn't do her any justice. She was what the media called, "the girl next door" beautiful, everyone adored her, everyone wanted a chance to be with her, and yet she was oblivious to it all. Never truly believing she was as beautiful as everyone made it seem, and in some way that was probably his fault, for not making her believe she was truly that beautiful.

It took everything in his power not to go over to her and embrace her. He had to will himself to stay in his seat, until she approached him.

She finally made her way over to him, well more to her seat across from him.

Harry had started to get up, until he realized he wouldn't be getting the same greeting that everyone else got, so he sat back down, slightly embarrassed.

"Hi." She softly greeted him, as she sat in her seat.

"Hi." Now that she was in front of him, he had no idea what to say or how to begin all of this.

"Nervous?" She asked him.

She always did know him so well.

"Very. You?" He lightly laughed, making eye contact with her for the first time in years. Just like that he can’t help himself but to fall for her

"A little. More curious than anything." She honestly answered, willing herself to forget about the cameras around.

"Really? Why so?" Harry asked, taken back by her answer.

"There's a lot of unanswered questions between us and I think we owe it to each other to find those out. So I'm curious to see what your take was on everything."

"Right." He started to get more nervous.

This was going to be a very emotional hour, for the both of them.

There was a beat of silence, then Y/n took a deep breath and began.

"How about we start easy then. How have you been? And don't give me that politically correct Harry Styles bullshit. Truthfully how have you been?" She asks, which causes Harry to let out a snort laugh.

"I've actually been good. Finishing up this new album. Working my ass on it. But I'm very proud of it. Really let my guard down this time."

"Difficult isn't it? Having to let your guard down, afraid of what everyone is going to make of it. But I guess that's why we do it, huh." She states.

"Exactly. I mean an album is nothing compared to writing a whole feature film. Talk about being vulnerable. I can't imagine doing that." Harry praises her. He remembers when she had told him years ago, during the first year of their relationship, that she and her best friend were writing a movie together.

"Yeah. That wasn't easy. We went through many, many drafts. Originally we wanted to write a romantic comedy. It wasn't until-" She stops herself, forgetting for a second who she was talking to.

"Until?" he presses her to continue, having a feeling of what her answer was going to be.

"It wasn't until we broke up that we decided a romantic comedy wasn't what we needed to write. I couldn't write one, not after that." She honestly answered.

"Why is that?"

"Because after our break up, the only thing I could write about was heartbreak. And not that cheesy sugarcoated shit, the real honest truth heartbreak. It just started to flow out of me, as soon as I started to type, that's what came out. So that's when we decided to change the idea of the movie. If we were going to put out a movie about breakups, it was going to be about great big breakups. Not just the bad ones. Not just the good ones, if those even exist. The ones that change a person. The ones that shake you to your core. The ones that don't seem possible to recover from. The ones that have you questioning, how can you ever fall out of love with someone you had planned to spend the rest of your life with. Those kinds of breakups. The everlasting ones." Y/n felt her eyes began to tear up as she described her inspiration. She took a breath to calm her nerves.

"Wow." Harry responded, feeling himself get choked up.

"I'm sorry." he apologized.

"For what?" Y/n asked, taken back by his apology. His long overdue apology.

"For the way our relationship ended. I'm sorry." He tearfully apologized.

"Our relationship was long over before we ended it. We should've ended our relationship before it got bad, but I think we were both holding onto something we both thought we could salvage. But we were just too far gone. We were just too young. I loved you, I was scared."

"Selfishly I didn't want to let you go, because I couldn't bare the thought of you loving someone else. Selfishly, I still can't bare the thought of you loving someone else." He truthfully tells her.

"That's unfair of you."

"Do you hate me?" Harry asked, the one question he's been dying to ask. If he didn't ask it now, he wouldn't have the guts to ask it later on. Better to just rip the band-aid off.

"Hate is such a powerful word. Small, but powerful. But I did. Not anymore. But yeah, I hated you. I think you know, slash, knew that. I wanted nothing to do with you. The way we ended, it shattered me. Then to see the pictures of you with another girl less than a month later. I wanted nothing but to hate you."

The answer knocked the wind out of him a little, he always assumed she hated him, but the confirmation just broke him.

"In the past almost four years, I've learned a lot about myself. Who I am without you. Who I was with you. Looking back on it, I didn't like who I was with you. I loved you so much, that I would do whatever you asked of me. Looking back, I don't even know who that girl was. I can't even fathom that i was like that. I was more mad that I had let myself become like that. I had always prided myself in being an independent woman, especially back then. But that definitely wasn't the case. I had lost myself to you.

Looking back on it now, it wasn't real. Who we were in public versus who we were behind closed doors. We would be all happy out in the world but the second we got home, and those doors closed behind us, we just shut each other out. You shut me out. You were seeking comfort from other. When I should have been the one you ran to. You had written songs about being able to run to me for anything, but that wasn't the truth. It became pretty clear that we weren't happy anymore. That you weren't happy anymore in the relationship."

"I was." Harry retorted, feeling upset that that's how she felt.

"No you weren't. If you were, you wouldn't have done what you did. You wouldn't have said what you said. I wouldn't have left in such a haste that final night. You weren't happy. Neither was I. And it's okay to admit that." She calmly said.

Her calm demeanor was starting to make him a bit uncomfortable. He definitely wasn't expecting her to be so calm about this all. Especially since the last time they talked was a screaming match. But then looking back on it now, it was just a one person screaming match, and that ball laid on his court.

"You don't talk about me." He states, trying to regain his composure.

"No, I don't. I couldn't because it was too hard. Especially at the beginning. So I just had any talk of you blacklisted. It was better that way. It isn't the world's business to know what happened. At least not then." she softly laughs signaling to the cameras.

"It's what I needed to heal. Now if someone mentions you, I don't feel the same as I once did. It doesn't break me. Truthfully, until someone mentions you, I kind of forget."

"Sorry." she apologizes, when she sees his reaction to her answer.

"Have you listened to any of my solo stuff?"

"No. I couldn't. And as time went by I didn't feel the need to. I think it's better that way."

"Didn't you ever get curious?"

"No. My friends told me about it. Even said you slipped my name in one of the songs. Which I think, at the time, just added more fuel to the fire."

"Really?"

"Not everyone is going to find that endearing, Harry. Especially not with the way we ended. I didn't want to hear you playing the victim." She explains to him, a little offended by his reaction.

"I wasn't." He defended himself.

"Right. We were both at fault, but last time I checked you were the one moving on after a few short weeks. At that moment, when I heard you name dropping me, and then to see the comments online, it made me so mad. And it was a set back to my own healing. Here you are telling the world how heartbroken you are, but then you are just out in the open with a new girl, no worries on how that would make me feel." she emotionally tells him, with tears in her eyes.

"Which took me some time to realize that you didn't owe me anything. We were no longer together. You were free to do whatever you pleased, with whoever you pleased. I had to accept that I had no right in the decisions that you made post-us." she calms down.

"We were never meant to last forever. I see that now." she expresses what she had learned years ago, the revelation that finally allowed her to move on.

“You’re going to need to stop doing that.” she tells him, he could feel the pity.

“Stop what?”

“Writing songs about me. You need to let me go.” she informs him.

"Do you ever regret our relationship?" he bluntly inquires.

"No. It taught me some valuable things about myself, and about relationships. Do you?" she asks back.

"Never." He says.

There was a moment of silence. No one sure if the conversation is over, as it had already been an hour since they began. The director was about to call cut, when Harry spoke up.

"I'm scared that you'll never need me again." he truthfully says, tears brimming his eyes.

"That shouldn't scare you. You should want nothing but the best for me, like I wish nothing but the best for you." she explains, her eyes matching the same emotion as him, feeling the end of the conversation close by.

"Are you happy?"

"Truthfully? Yes."

"Do you see us ever getting back together?" his bottom lip trembles a bit.

"No." She truthfully answers, a few tears escaping.

"Does he make you happy?"

"Yes." she smiles, at the mention of her current partner.

"Is he the one?" he asks as the tears fall down his cheeks, afraid of the answer that's about to come out of her mouth.

"Yes. He's the one." she bites down on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying out.

"I still love you." he confesses, crying.

"I know." she bittersweetly discloses.

She gives him one final smile, before she gets up and gives his hand a comforting pat, as she makes her final exit out of his life for good.

[Permanent tagged: Permanent tagged: @definitelynotafangirl @1awesomeash @princess-evans-addict @geeksareunique @sebbbystaaan if you’d like to be removed just ask and I’d be happy to do so]

#harry styles angst #harry styles falling #harry styles oneshot #harry styles reader #harry styles x reader #harryxreader #harry angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst oneshot #angst #fine line #harry styles fine line #falling #HS2 #harry styles

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bettsfic · 4 years

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Hey! I was just wondering if you would soapbox a little about your creative process. I absolutely adore your writing advice but was wondering a bit more about how your ideas form and how you choose which to pursue and do finished products look like you want them to? What's a bad habit you're trying to break? No obligation to answer, especially cause an anon is like tell me your secrets! But thank you for all you've written, you are so helpful and kind

thanks for the great question anon! i wrote a bit about my drafting process here but that doesn’t encompass the idea building side of things (also i’ve made some changes to the process so i was thinking about writing a more cohesive, updated version at some point).

i tend to think of project ideas as piles of aesthetic, and usually i only begin writing once the pile has toppled over and i can’t not write it. that’ll make more sense in a moment.

i’ll walk through 2 examples of my idea generating process, from how they started to where they are now.

1. Vandal

Vandal is a novel i’m working on that i really have a lot of hope for. i’m about 60k words in right now and 75% finished. it’s about a teenage girl (sierra) who casts a spell on her hot, helpful neighbor (frank) to bind them together. the spell ends up working but backfiring when he becomes her foster father. then, in his custody, sierra gets jealous and casts a spell on his girlfriend (jenny) to break them up, but that backfires too: sierra gets taken out of frank’s custody and placed with a manipulative and abusive foster brother (leo). frank more or less kidnaps sierra and they have to Run From The Law. throughout the novel, sierra is inwardly battling Vandal, an immortal archangel that has possessed her and is trying to get her to kill herself so he can break free of the prison of her body.

the idea for that story has a looooong breadcrumb trail and a huge aesthetic pile. since i couldn’t manage to get Baby traditionally published, i had a lot of that dynamic i could adopt into something else. i wrote at length about where that idea came from but i can no longer find that post (UPDATE: here it is). it’s somewhere in my training wheels tag. in short, i spent an entire summer watching/reading age gap stories and the male perspective in them bothered me a lot, so i wanted to write a story from the younger party’s perspective, and do the reality of those situations justice. i wrote that story, though, so i didn’t want to rewrite it.

then, in december 2019, for reasons i don’t remember, i started reading snape/hermione fics. i really liked the dynamic, but it was a little too angsty for me, and none of the fics gave me the catharsis i was looking for, which was basically Grouchy Soft Boy Takes Care Of PTSD Weary Girl. being unable to find anything that fit the exact no-conflict, angstless dynamic i was looking for, i decided to write it myself using an A/B/O reylo idea i’d been kicking around for about 8 months but i could never land on, because i didn’t know if i wanted ben or ren. that fic turned out to be Reclaimed.

to answer one of your questions, Reclaimed didn’t turn out the way i wanted it to at all, and i’m still kind of shocked by the traffic it has. i felt bad about writing it, because i was setting down so many other things to work on it, and it was a struggle from start to finish. at the time (and this is a major theme of my process), i thought it was a waste of energy.

but it opened a very important thematic concept to me, which is the idea of voicelessness and trauma, and recovery through finding one’s voice.

fast-forward to february, i’m headcanoning with @star-sky-earth just days before i have to head to nebraska for a writing residency. she and i are talking about a certain male celebrity who shall not be named, flirting with his younger female costar who shall not be named, and i said something along the lines of, “wouldn’t it suck to get a crush on a dude like him, only to find out he likes you back, and then you realize he’s actually kind of shallow and boring?”

i remember distinctly saying, out loud, “god fucking dammit,” because, right then, an aesthetic pile had toppled over, and an entire novel unfolded itself in my brain. i pound out an outline. it’s garbage. i play around with a vocal gauge. it’s not quite right. then, two days later, i write an opening scene that i don’t think is great but i send it to some people and they’re like, oh this is fire.

the aesthetic pile looks like this:

lolita, where dolores is the one in control

delusions of grandeur born from a major traumatic event

obsessions with fairy tales and the escapism they provide

the consequences of extreme neglect

forced voicelessness as both a theme and a major structural constraint

a lot of wolf imagery

non-chronological timelines

i proceed to spend the next two days driving across the country brain-writing. by the time i reach nebraska, i hit the ground running, and write for basically 30-40 hours a week for 5 weeks. then, because pandemic, i decide to stay 2 more weeks, but i hit a snag. i write about 14k of really boring drivel and realize my outline has failed me. i toss the 14k and re-outline and try again. then, my attention is rattled by a crush on a composer who has no interest in me.

i go home and fall into my annual summer depression and i lose focus. so, that’s where i’m at. i really miss vandal but it’s gotten super dark and i’m finding it difficult to manage darkness with everything going on. which brings me to my next aesthetic pile that has recently toppled over.

2. Eden

that’s not the title but it’s the project name. i’ve begun writing a YA sci fi comedy with an ensemble cast. this aesthetic pile took years to build before it toppled. it started with Elixir of Erised, hands down the best fic i’ve ever written by a huge margin. i reread it this past winter and was kind of amazed i’d written it.

i really liked the idea of a potion showing you your deepest desires, but until recently have not had the patience to build an entire world around it. so, for the past 3.5 years, i’ve kept a document of “if i WERE to a YA SFF book with the themes of EOE, what would i want to include?” over those 3.5 years, here’s what the list became:

dark academia vibes

heist plot

soulmates

that list is not really conducive to an entire universe, and i never had the motivation to sit down and think through it.

then i watched breaking bad, and a lot of things started clicking. at the same time, i was talking to my buddy kyle about my fallen knight archetype schematic, and i began fleshing out all the archetypes that went with it. i came up with 12. i built a database. i thought, wouldn’t it be cool to write something with ALL 12 ARCHETYPES?? haha but who would be dumb enough to do that?

me. i would.

with breaking bad as the missing plot piece (which introduces the idea of conflict around the MANUFACTURE and DISTRIBUTION of addictive substances, with an ensemble cast of morally grey characters, which leads to a war), i had enough to get started.

i wrote an outline. i wrote another outline. i wrote a third outline. i stopped to write some histories of this place i’d built. i wrote a fourth outline. gdocs became a mess so i downloaded scrivener and taught myself how to use it. i wrote a gauge of the first chapter and landed the voice on the first try. then i did a rough sketch of how a trilogy would go. then i outlined each book in the trilogy to make sure my character trajectories were on point. then i did a lot more worldbuilding. now i’m working on my fifth outline, which breaks the entire novel down scene by scene.

and for Reasons, i’m tasking myself with writing the first draft in 6 days across two weekends. it’s a high-stakes adventure story with a very tight timeline, so i think it’s conducive to being written quickly.

which brings me to another question you asked, which is, what bad habits do i want to break? i always, always slow down at the halfway mark. sometimes i even give up. i have no idea why. no matter how much preparation i do, no matter how solid my endgame is, at the halfway mark i either slow to a crawl or set the whole project down and pick up something new. i do this with reading books, too. i can only ever read the first half of books. then i either skip to the end or put them down forever. it’s definitely something i have to figure out because at this rate i’ll never finish anything.

okay this took way longer than i thought it would to write but i hope it answers your question. tl;dr i follow aesthetic and thematic interests until they lead me to a point where i can’t not write the stories that develop from them.

#writing advice #process #Anonymous

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tallstars-rewrite · 4 years

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small progress update

Hope everyone out there is doing ok with, y’know, *gestures vaguely at everything*

just wanted to give an update on stuff and my current progress, since I go quiet for such long periods of time

First of all, I recently broke 1000 followers!!! which is! wild! and nerve wracking. never had that big of an audience before. I wasn’t expecting it otherwise I would have tried to make something cool for the milestone :’D oops. thanks for sticking around though!

SO! as far as writing goes...My new outline was finished awhile ago, I’ve got each scene cut up into bullet points, with a goal to write one per day. On average it’s roughly 1000-2000 words a day? the first draft should be done sometime in June. Unfortunately I still can’t give a date for when I’ll post it publicly, because I have no idea how long the editing process of that first draft will take since... I’ve honestly never gotten far enough to even get to editing before. But I would like to start posting by fall at the latest.

Now I know that sounds like a long time off (hard for me to tell, since I stopped school temporarily in December + not being able to leave my house, my sense of time passing has been SHAKY at best) but in my defense, I am about to break 100k words and i’m...I think at the half-way point.

And i’ve still got 80-something bullet points left in my outline. Unclear whether they will be longer or shorter than the approximate 1000-2000 words the ones i’ve written so far have been (so hard to tell how long a scene is actually going to be until you sit down to write it)

So.

if that makes you think “yikes this sounds way too f*king long” you are correct! BUT! I’m sure the editing process is going to cut it down. I’ve been taking notes along the way about things to trim. It may still end up being too long, but...at a certain point I need to just remind myself the primary goal with this was to practice writing and, most importantly, finish. Whether or not it’s super “““good”““ or “““has good pacing”““ matters less and less to me every day lmaooo. But you all can be the judges of that

Other things I’ve been thinking about

*I’m fuddling with character names again (when will I ever stop) so the allegiances are subject to change

*Weird one, but I actually think I’m going to change the title of this story. I didn’t want to at first, because I don’t want to give the misleading impression it’s an original fanfic, but to be frank...the more I get into it, the more I realize that the title doesn’t work. In my version, revenge isn’t even really the main theme anymore. It does happen, but it’s just one part of Talltail’s story, and the character arc for him that I want to focus on has a lot more going on than just the morality of vengeance. “Tallstar’s Path” would probably be more accurate. But I’m a little bored of the super edition’s naming conventions, so I think i’ll just come up with something entirely different. I haven’t decided on anything yet, but i’ll let y’all know.

That’s all I can think of right now. Thanks for reading my ramble, and stay safe out there!

#yarrow speaks #progress update

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onedirectionfanfics · 5 years

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Love Always, Harry by @gucciwoodnymph

Holmes Chapel, 1985 - Best friends since childhood, you and Harry have grown up to lead lives on opposite ends of the spectrum. He travels the world as a journalist for Rolling Stone. You’re stuck in your hometown, waitressing at a diner. You and Harry keep in touch through letters and postcards until the day he returns home and flips your world upside-down.

This month’s featured story, Love Always, Harry, takes us back to the 80s when we raid record stores with our best friends and send letters to each other as we travel! This fic tells a beautiful love story that blossoms between two best friends who are so different, yet similar in many aspects. Read below to learn more about it from our interview with the lovely author!

***

How long have you been writing for?

I had always been coming up with little stories in my head, but the first time I actually wrote a story down was when I was ten years old. My class had just finished reading Old Yeller and I was really upset about the ending, so I wrote my own version of the story where the wolf bite ends up giving Yeller superpowers instead of rabies, and Yeller uses those powers to fight crime in the town (very highbrow stuff). I haven’t stopped writing since then!

Do you have certain habits or rituals you have to do while writing?

So before I start writing, I have to clean my room or whatever area I’m in. I tend to talk aloud to myself and pace around a lot if I’m trying to work through any snarls in the fic so I need plenty of clean space for that. The first things I pull up on my laptop when I’m starting out are my fic outline and thesaurus.com. I read through the outline a few times to smooth over the scene and get a clear picture of it in my head. Also, I turn into a bit of a hermit when I’m really ready to write. I have to be alone and I need complete silence because I have a goldfish’s attention span and get sidetracked very easily.

The ever famous question: how did you come up with this idea?

I really like the whole “opposites attract” trope and I think showing that dynamic within a close friendship is really interesting because (most) friendships have a stronger, more enduring bond than (most) romantic relationships. So I knew I wanted the story to revolve around two best friends – one who is really confident and more of a free-spirit, and the other who is very reserved and a bit cautious – who fall in love. I also wanted the characters to write letters to each other because I just love the idea of them. I think it’s so sweet when someone takes time to sit down and write out a letter; it adds a nice personal touch.

When does a story go from an idea in your mind to paper? Is there a process you go through before writing it out, or do you just get straight in it?

Some of my writer friends can just dive in and write absolutely beautiful pieces without planning and it makes me so jealous because for me, it takes a loooong time for an idea to go from my mind to paper. I usually have a few different AUs brewing at a time, and I cycle through them until one idea starts to branch off on its own and grow into a Thing that takes up 95% of my daydream capacity. Once I’ve decided on the basic story, I write everything out in an extremely detailed outline that describes the characters and their personalities, and breaks the story down into parts, what events happen in each part, etc.

Your fic is set in the late 1980’s, was there a specific reason for it?

When I decided I wanted to write a fic based around the idea of sending letters, I knew I would have to set it in an earlier decade. It wouldn’t have been realistic to set it in 2019 and have Harry and MC send letters back and forth when they could easily text, call, FaceTime, or stay in touch through social media.

I chose the 80s on a whim. I really love the aesthetic of that era, and after I had an 80s movie marathon I could see Harry fitting perfectly in that time with his cuffed jeans, and Vans, and high-waisted pants.

As a young adult in 2019, how did you find writing a story set in a different time period?

I had a TON of fun writing it, but it involved significantly more research than a fic set in present day. I had to do a lot of research for the little things that make an appearance in the story and make sure that they were actually around in 1985/1986 (i.e., the books on Harry’s nightstand in his room, the candy Harry and MC share when they’re smoking, the VHS tapes, the magazine that the MC interviews for).

I also had to be cognizant of not overdoing the pop culture references in that time. Sometimes after reading over first drafts of the installments, I would find sentences that essentially sounded like, “MC threw on her neon leg warmers before she grabbed her Walkman and listened to a mixtape.” So I edited a lot more to have a balance where I could create an 80s atmosphere, but avoid making it sound contrived.

What made you want to write about a girl who sacrificed the things she loved for a secure future? Is this something you’ve ever had to do?

I wanted to write about it because it’s a trend I see so frequently among my friends and my age group. One of my friends is such a talented artist, but she gave that up to study engineering (which she hates); another one of my friends decided not to pursue his passion for music and instead go to pharmacy school (which he hates), solely because it provides a secure future. I think I had to do it to a lesser degree – I wanted a job that involved lots of reading and writing, and I’m pursuing law which has a ton of that but it’s not the publishing or journalism career I had in mind when I was in high school.

Harry and Y/N have a very special bond. Without Harry, would Y/N have married a controlling man like William?

No, she wouldn’t have. I think eventually she would have realized how stifled she was and how she wouldn’t be happy with someone like her fiance. Harry just expedited that realization for her. Without him, she might have called off the wedding five minutes before she was going to walk down the aisle as opposed to months before, but she would never have actually married William.

Y/N’s self-discovery and growth can all be credited to her (for pursuing her dreams and aspirations) but her decision was heavily influenced by Harry. Would a woman like Y/N have gotten to this position without someone like Harry in her life?

Everyone has someone in their life who pushes them to be the best version of themselves, who calls them out whenever they’re falling short of their potential, and essentially tries to get them into gear whether that’s a friend, family member, mentor, or whoever. In the MC’s case, that someone for her is Harry. Without Harry in her life, I think the MC would still have gotten to her position because she has that drive and desire to do so, but it certainly would have taken her a longer time.

There are a lot of artists and bands from the 80s being referenced in this fic, did you have to do research for it or is old music something you have an interest in?

I really love 70s and 80s music because it reminds me of the stuff my parents used to play while I was growing up, but I did still have to do a lot of research for this fic to make sure it was historically accurate. For example, in Part I the MC gets a letter from Harry dated December 7, 1984. I originally wanted Harry to tell her about how he was reviewing a Fleetwood Mac show, but it turns out FM didn’t tour at all in 1984. So a lot of the time I had to research to make sure the dates, the locations, the artists, and the events all matched up with what actually happened.

I also looked up the actual Rolling Stone UK covers from the 80s to see which artists were featured and what year they were featured in to see if it could fit into the storyline. The actual RS archives are available online for a fee and only for the US editions, so I ended up combing through really obscure websites to find the UK versions, and spent hours on that just for the information to feature in like, one or two lines of the fic.

You wrote a very inspirational and powerful piece about self-growth and knowing your worth, did you hope to influence anyone with it?

Honestly, I treat writing as a form of therapy so when I started writing this fic, my intent was just to vent out my own feelings of inadequacy or frustration, and my fear of failure. When I started this, I wrote the characters to mirror the two “voices” I always have in my mind. The MC is the irrational half of me who’s afraid to even attempt new things out of fear of failing and Harry is the more rational half saying I’ll never get anywhere if I don’t at least try. So not to sound like a narcissist, but I think I mainly hoped to influence myself to grow as a person.

That being said, I have received a few messages from readers about how this fic has influenced them to grow, or recognize their self-worth, or make a change in their lives and it absolutely blows me away that anything I’ve written can do that. I cannot explain how honored I am to have played an iota of a role in helping someone decide to improve their lives. It’s been absolutely the most rewarding facet of sharing my writing.

Anything you’d like to say to anyone who read your fic?

Thank you very much for reading my writing! And thank you for taking the time to send in your comments, questions, rants, and key smashes. It really means more than I can ever articulate, that I’m able to share my writing and have such an amazing response from readers. Thank you a million times.

***

Thank you Tans for the wonderful interview! Check out more of her writing here!

***If you would like to send in recommendations for next months featured story, please do so here.

#1dff #onedirectionfanfics #one direction fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction

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taeken-my-heart · 5 years

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Independent {f} Chapter 13

Summary: Your mom calls you stubborn, your friends call you wild, and the boys you’ve left in your wake call you a frigid bitch. You’ve built a life of independence and you like it that way. Kim Taehyung, however; seems to be able to change your mind.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: fluff, mild angst

Word Count: 19925

Notes/Warnings: This chapter has some angst, a few instances of self deprecation and the OC just being kind of mean to herself, but there is a light and growth at the end of that tunnel!

Oh my goooosh. Tumblr has made the process of getting the draft on here so dang challenging. Please forgive me if there’s any choppiness or the layout is weird, I’ll be tightening it up over the next few days.

**There is a read more linked but it doesn’t seem to be working and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m sorry! TT

****

December brought with it, dark skies, chapped lips, and an accelerated time line. The semester was quickly coming to a close and you wanted to run head long into the winter break and get this misery over with. It had been almost a full week since you’d seen Taehyung and each day had brought a new wave of misery.

For the first three days you’d woken to eyes crusted closed and a sore throat. Courtesy of all-night cry sessions. It didn’t help that Taehyung had decided to stop attending your Art History class and begin taking only office hours to help your classmates. There was a part of you that was happy you didn’t have to see him right now, since you were too busy licking your wounds; a bigger part of you that wished you could take back everything you said so you could see him again, and the biggest part of all that was more devastated with yourself.

Why couldn’t you just be normal? Everyone else could date someone without freaking out, but you, no you were a mess. All you ever did was alienate people. You were probably better off on your own. You couldn’t hurt anyone if they couldn’t get close to you. You had too much baggage, anyway, who would want to saddle themselves up with that?

The library was quiet; every seat taken by a student in the throes of final exams panic. There were only 17 days left until the end of the semester and then you could throw yourself headlong into a project that didn’t remind you of your current misery. You were thankful, at least, that you were nearly done. As soon as you finished this paper your project for Art History would be done and then you only had three written finals to take.

Anna sat across from you; hands fisted in her hair as she starred down at her book in despair. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have laughed. She looked the picture of stress; eyes bugged, brow pinched, a silent scream in the arch of her lips as she softly read back the words of the textbook that she couldn’t seem to commit to memory.

The library door opening caught your attention and you glanced over to find Jimin entering slowly, vision trained on the tangled earbuds in his hands. You don’t know why or what possessed you, but suddenly you were jumping to your feet, making your way through the tables and over to the door.

“Jimin.” You called softly. He glanced up at you, dark eyes lighting in recognition before he stopped, frowning. “Hi.” You said, stopping just in front of him and the corner of his lips lifted in a careful smile.

“Hi.” He said, glancing around the room. This was not the place to talk, too many people trying to work.

“Can we talk for a second?” You asked, motioning out the door to the empty hallway. He paused before nodding, pushing the door open behind him and allowing you to exit first.

As soon as the door closed you watched him, fiddling carefully with the strings of his earbuds, and twisted your fingers together apprehensively. “How have you been?” You asked carefully.

He shrugged, glancing up at you. “I’ve been ok. What about you?”

You glanced out the window into the dreary, cloud scattered sky. “Yeah, I, uh, I’ve been ok. Finals, you know?”

He nodded, studying you with pursed lips. “What’s up, Y/N? What do you really need?”

You frowned, staring down at your shoes, scuffed and still a little soggy from the snow. “I guess I was just wondering how Taehyung is.” You whispered.

Jimin sighed and your frowned deepened. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. He’s pretty crushed. He hasn’t really been himself recently.”

Your heart ached at the thought. Gorgeous, smiley, carefree Taehyung was hurting and it was all your fault. “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, tears beginning to burn your vision.

“I can appreciate the sentiment, Y/N, but I’m not the one you should be talking to. I can’t receive apologies in his honor.” He replied and you were at least grateful that his tone was gentle. He was trying hard to be kind but honest and that wasn’t easy to do.

“I wish I could talk to him.” You admitted, looking up at Jimin through wet eyelashes. He shook his head gently.

“I wouldn’t. It’s not the time right now. You really hurt him, Y/N. He’s an all or nothing kind of guy and when you rejected him, he took it really hard.”

“I didn’t mean to reject him.” You whispered, a tear escaping down your cheek and you brushed at it angrily. “I’m just scared.”

Jimin sighed, reaching out and patting your shoulder, “well, maybe talk to him when you’ve got things figured out. He’s not a test drive, though. You can’t just use him as practice and hope for the best, you know?”

You nodded, biting on your bottom lip to stifle a sob. “Will you please take care of him for me?” You whispered, looking up at him. “Help him be happy again.”

Jimin smiled, nodding. “Of course; he’s my best friend.” He glanced down at his watch, frowning, “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I’ve gotta meet with my study group, I’m already running a little late.”

“Of course.” You said, stepping off to the side. “Thank you, Jimin.”

After checking your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you returned to the table, waving away Anna’s questioning look and staring back at your laptop. You had one more page to write and then you could allow yourself to return to your bedroom and cry in peace. You wouldn’t do it here.

If your dad were here…well, he wouldn’t have any answers, he was bad at this sort of thing, but the thought of how he’d flounder trying to make you feel better made you smile. You missed him every day, but especially when you were sad because it reminded you that you were going through phases of life that he was missing.

If he were here, things would be different. Maybe you wouldn’t even be at this school. You’d chosen it mostly because it wasn’t too far from home if you needed to go back for any reason. You’d always been adventurous and independent, though, so you may have gone somewhere much further away…if life had turned out differently.

There was no use in dwelling on the what if’s, though. Life was what it was and you couldn’t change it; only your attitude towards it. Besides, right now you had finals to get through. Then…then you could focus on something new to distract you.

Paris couldn’t come fast enough.

****

The morning felt better already. The last 2 weeks had been horrible; for lack of a better word. When you weren’t pulling your hair out in the library you were stressing out about whether you’d see Taehyung in the hallways. You’d just finished your last final of the semester and felt…free. Now you only had to finish packing your suitcase and you could head home for a few days before flying out to Paris.

The house was empty when you got there, dropping your bag by the doorway and sighing. Someone had turned on the electric fire and you shuffled your way to sit in front of it, outstretching your hands to warm them.

You’d forgotten your gloves, which was dumb because it was the middle of December and stupidly cold. Glancing around the room, you sighed. You’d miss this house during the winter vacation. Even though you were coming back to the same house and same people for spring vacation, it was going to be different, you’d make new memories, meet new people, but there would be no Taehyung and you hated how dependent you felt on him now. This was why you didn’t fall for people; why you didn’t open your heart to someone. It hurt too much.

You looked out the window, heart stuttering when you noticed Taehyung walking sluggishly by. He was bundled warm and you could barely see his face under his hat and scarf, but you’d know him anywhere. He paused by the mailbox, sighing, a sad frown stretching across his full lips as he reached out his mittened fingers, patting the duck softly on the head.

It felt like your heart was bleeding in your chest. You wanted to run to him and throw your arms around him, tell him you were sorry and you didn’t know why you were this way…but even the thought of it made your stomach churn with discomfort. What could you even offer to him anyway? Love? Stability? No, it was better this way. No man wanted to be with a broken woman.

Taehyung walked slowly away from the mailbox, fingertips dropping from the beak of the duck and down by his side and you sat frozen where you were, watching him leave. It all felt so final. You couldn’t wait to get out of the country and just escape your own mind.

****

Later after dinner, when your bags were packed and you were sat in the front room, your roommates came to join you, a tray of hot chocolates in Anna’s hands. Setting it down on the table, she sat down beside you on the couch, grabbing a mug for each of you before settling further into the cushions.

“Can’t believe we’re all heading home tomorrow.” Sarah said, sighing into her mug. “This semester went by so fast.”

“Too fast!” Anna agreed. “I can’t believe you’re going to Paris in just a few days!”

You smiled softly, “It’s pretty crazy right?”

“I’m crazy jealous.” Charlotte admitted, “Paris has always been top of the travel bucket list for me.”

“Really?” Anna asked in surprise, “I never knew that about you.”

“Yeah, it’s home to the Eiffel tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, the Arc de Triumphe. What’s not to love? Plus, it’s the fashion capitol of the world.”

“You have to buy so many clothes!” Sarah gushed, “I seriously can’t believe you get to go shopping in Paris!”

You smiled, chuckling, “I honestly probably won’t have a whole lot of time to go shopping between the internship and touristy stuff, but I’ll try to have one good shopping trip in your honor.”

“If you don’t come back in a beret and a peplum pea coat, I’ll be seriously appalled.”

“Pretty sure the French don’t actually go about their day in a beret.” Charlotte remarked dryly.

You giggled, smiling at your friends. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

“You say that like you’re going to war. You’re going to Paris, honey, you won’t even notice we’re not there.” Anna grinned, flicking your forehead with her finger and you wrinkled your nose at her.

“I’ll definitely notice.”

“Well, anyway,” Sarah commented, pushing her hair over her shoulder, “You’re going to go, you’re going to have a fabulous time, and you’re going to come back a changed woman. I’m super jealous.”

****

After returning home and spending a few days with your family, they were bringing you to the airport for what was probably the biggest adventure of your life. You’d never been on such a big trip alone; in fact, you’d never even been on an airplane by yourself. The nerves were clawing at your chest at the thought, but there was a soft simmering of excitement bubbling just under that surface.

The airport was cramped and busy, people heading home for the holidays and you felt a little sad that you’d be missing the celebrations with your family, but the experience was going to be worth it; you were sure of it.

The evening was blanketed with a soft mist when you arrived. It was cold, but nothing a coat and scarf couldn’t combat. The woman in charge of your internship had met you at arrivals and you’d grabbed your bags, making your way out front.

“Our car is over here.” Marie smiled, holding her arm out and you followed after her, the driver taking your things and putting them in the trunk. After sliding into your seat and buckling in, you sighed, leaning your head back against the headrest. “The drive to your hotel is around an hour so that will give us time to talk and go over some details.”

“Great.” You smiled, sitting up straight and facing towards her. “What is your job with the Paris Fashion Week?”

“I’m the head of Une voix de femme, a fashion and photography company. There are a lot of interns that come all year round for various purposes in the different shows and fashion industry and we get a lot of applicants so we’re a bit picky.”

The idea that the boss herself had come to retrieve you was a little mind blowing and you felt extra nervous at the idea of it. Maybe she picked up every intern, but even so, you couldn’t help but feel special. “May I ask how exactly my work was brought to your attention?”

“Pure coincidence.” Marie said, flipping open a file. Inside were some of the stills you’d taken over the years, mostly from school activities that you’re sure your professor had sent to her and others from the Winter Recital. “We do a lot of searching on our own. Not everyone who is talented will apply, some need to be sought out. I saw the pictures you’d taken of your school recital and I knew right away you needed to be with us. You have too much talent that shouldn’t be wasted.”

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, face feeling warm. “I never would have applied; I would have never thought I’d be good enough for something like this.”

“Common symptom.” Marie nodded, thumbing through some of your pictures, “the worthy never actually know their true worth.” She looked over at you, winking before returning to the file in hand.

“So, what exactly will my responsibilities be while I’m here?”

“We’ll go over most of the details tomorrow when you come to the office. You’ll need to be flexible and move quickly because we’ll have you in a few different locations. I don’t have your exact schedule with me currently, but I know you will be photographing the Dior, Saint Laurent, Mugler, and Hermes lines. We’ll also have you working with some couture design shoots.”

“Wow, those are some big names.” You mused, stomach twisting at the idea.

“Don’t feel nervous, dear, we wouldn’t have flown you out if we didn’t like what you have to offer. You have an ability to capture small details; that is what we are looking for. The models move quickly and they stop for no one; you’ll need to catch the details of their clothing with precision. Because you’re an intern, we know you don’t have access to all the equipment that other photographers will have with them so of course you will have all of our equipment at your disposal.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you!” You said softly. Honestly, at this point you were feeling honored, of course, and also completely overwhelmed.

“Don’t worry about too many details tonight, though. Tomorrow I’ll have my assistant Danielle meet you in the lobby of your hotel and she’ll accompany you for the remainder of your internship with us. Any questions you have, Danielle will be able to answer them.”

“Thank you very much, I’m so appreciative of this opportunity. I intend to make sure you’re happy with your decision to recruit me.”

“I have no doubt you will.” She smiled over at you.

Once you’d reached your hotel, the jet lag was beginning to hit strong. You’d begun falling asleep the last 5 minutes of the ride and were so grateful to be up and standing. With the door closed behind you and your suitcase deposited at the end of your bed, you made your way to the large French doors, pushing open the curtains and stepping out onto the balcony.

“Wow.” You breathed, hands reaching out for the metal railing, cold from the bite of winter. You could not have asked for a better view than the one you were given. The Eiffel Tower, just off to the right of your window, lights bright in the dark of the evening. The streets below were still filled with people, a busy Christmas market just a moment’s walk from the entrance of your hotel. You felt completely spoiled.

Of course, you wished you could have shared the experience with someone, but instead you’d focus every moment of your time enjoying this great new experience.

****

The next morning you were awoken by your alarm at 7:00 am. Your eyes were bleary and stung as you opened them, body warm beneath the fluffy white down comforter. You were expected down and waiting for the car at 8 am sharp and you still had to shower, get ready, and eat.

You moved sluggishly from the warmth of the bed, grabbing your shower supplies and trudging into the bathroom. After showering and getting ready, you made your way downstairs to have some breakfast. Ecstatic to find an assortment of French breads, jams, and a buffet of food you already felt yourself drooling over, you grabbed a plate, making your way through the line and allowing the greed of your eyes and growling stomach to take charge.

After stuffing your face with more food than was probably considered proper, you made your way out to the front of the hotel, checking your bag again to make sure you had everything you needed.

“Y/N!” Someone called and you turned to look around you, a young woman with short, dark corkscrew curls and beautiful dark brown eyes smiled, waving over at you and you smiled back, making your way towards her. “Hi there, I’m Danielle.” She greeted, reaching her hand out towards you for a handshake.

“It’s so nice to meet you.” You returned, shaking her hand and following the motion of her hand into the back of the car. “I’m so surprised, I really thought I was going to end up being with someone who was much older than me. It’s nice to see someone similar in age.”

“It’s nice to have someone to relate to,” Danielle grinned, leaning back in her seat as the car started driving, “plus, after we get the details sorted this morning, we get to go out exploring. Work officially starts tomorrow.”

“Are you serious?” You grinned and she winked.

“Course, girl. I hope you brought your money with you because we’re going on a shopping spree.”

“I’m gonna go broke by the end of this internship, for sure.”

“No way, this internship pays and it pays well. Anything you want to buy while you’re here?” She chuckled and you chewed on your bottom lip in thought.

“Well, my friends definitely told me if I don’t come back with a beret and a peplum pea coat that they’d skin me alive, so…”

“Put it on the list!” She laughed loudly, “No skinning alive. So, tell me about yourself, Y/N.”

“Well, I guess it depends on what you want to know. I’m currently in school studying Visual Arts with a minor in photography and I live in a small, run down, but cozy home with 3 of my best friends. When I’m not at school I’m at home with my mom, brother, step dad and our dog Goose.”

“And now you’ll get to say you interned with Paris Fashion Week.” Danielle teased and you grinned.

“I know, I can hardly even believe I’m in France. What about you? Tell me about yourself, Danielle.”

“Well, I’m originally from Pennsylvania, but my dad is actually from France. When I was getting ready to go into high school my dad got a job back here in Paris so we all moved here and have been living here ever since. I have two sisters, one older, one younger, and I’ve been working with Marie for the last three years.”

“Wow, so did you start working with Marie right after graduation or something?” You asked, eyes wide.

Danielle chuckled. “Something like that, yeah. I actually did my internship with Marie as well and then just ended up getting hired on and have been with them ever since. It’s been a pretty crazy amazing ride.”

“I believe it!” You breathed, “That’s really wild. I’m not sure what to do when I graduate, but I still have a couple years to figure it out.”

“Do you have any ideas or anything you want to do?” Danielle asked, twisting a curl around her finger and letting it spring back into place.

“Not a lot,” you admitted bashfully, “I’ve kind of thought about maybe starting my own company or something, but to be honest I really just like being able to take pictures of whatever I want and not being commissioned to do something, you know?”

“Oh yeah, I totally get it.” Danielle nodded, “a true artist’s spirit. You want your cake and to eat it too.” She grinned over at you and you shrugged, smiling.

“Guilty.”

“Something I’ll recommend is to get your feet wet first. Sometimes you’ve gotta do other people’s dirty work first before you can really get into your own stuff. Build enough of a name that being able to photograph your own stuff will one day work in your favor.”

“Yeah, I get that.” You nodded, watching as the car came to a slow stop out front of a large glass building that looked rather out of place among the ancient and beautiful cream-colored limestone of the other buildings.

“We’re here!” Danielle chirped, sliding from the car as the door was opened for her and you followed closely after, pulling your bag high on your shoulder and glancing around. The streets were busy with business people and tourists alike and you followed after Danielle as she led you into the building.

“We’re up on the 32nd floor,” Danielle said as the two of you stepped into the glass elevator and you gripped the railing, staring out into the streets in awe.

“Wow, you guys really know how to live, huh?” You murmured, watching the city sink below you.

Danielle laughed, leaning against the railing with you. “Pretty nice, right?”

You nodded mutely. “I just feel so lucky.” You finally admitted, “there are so many people who would want this opportunity and I got it without even trying.”

“Don’t feel guilty about it.” Danielle scolded and you turned to smile at her. “you deserve this internship. Marie loves finding people who are unassuming about their talent because they’re always the best. Just because you didn’t apply doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.”

“Thank you, Danielle,” you grinned, “you’re giving me a pretty decent boost in self-esteem.”

“It’s my job.” She winked, nudging you with her elbow. The chime of the elevator reaching your floor brought your attention back to the door and you stood, facing forward. “Besides, I wouldn’t say any of it if it weren’t true. You’ve definitely earned it.”

The office was busy with movement, desks occupying the first half of the room and filled with people having conversation. The back was divided by rooms separated with glass. Two rooms currently occupied with photoshoots, a couple offices, and a conference room. It was noisy, but in a good way.

“This is where we get the technical parts of our jobs done. Paperwork, photoshop, that sort of thing. Certain magazine shoots are done in the back, as you can see. This is the behind the scenes dirty work that has to be done. The real fun stuff will be when fashion week starts tomorrow. Ok, follow me, your desk is over here.”

You followed after her to the right-hand side and she patted a desk with only a laptop to boast about. “This is your desk, right next to mine. It’s pretty bare right now, but the good thing is you can decorate it in any way you see fit.”

“This is so cool.” You grinned, “I get my own desk!”

Danielle chuckled, sitting down at her desk. “Ah, I remember that feeling, like a real grown up, right?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, sitting in your seat. “Feels like I’m suddenly an adult with all sorts of responsibilities. It’s so cool.”

Danielle grinned, shaking her head. “Well, Marie’s gonna want to have a meeting with us in a few minutes but she told me she had a conference call first so let’s chill and talk before then.”

You nodded, leaning eagerly forward. “That sounds great.”

“So, you’re still in university, right?” At your nod, she continued, “any boys?” She teased with a wiggle of her brows.

You sigh, shrugging, “Mmm…no, not right now, I guess.”

“That sounded very mysterious.” She replied, eyebrow raised and you moved your elbow from the arm rest of your chair as someone bustled by shouting something in French.

“Just…” you huffed, blowing air up across your cheeks, “there was a guy a few weeks ago, but I blew it.”

“Oh?” You asked, waiting patiently for you to continue.

You shrugged again, “he wanted a bigger commitment than I was ready to give him so I kind of pushed him away and we both ended up getting hurt. It sucks pretty bad.” Danielle watched as you tried not to sulk too hard and sighed.

“It can be really hard when something doesn’t work out the way we’d hoped it would.” She said, staring over at the elevator as a group made their way out and over to the studio. “I was in a situation back in college that was…well, it was pretty challenging. Life changing; in a good and bad way. I had to make a decision that I’ve often wondered was right, but I think what I’ve decided since then is that if things are meant to be, then they will be. Of course, that’s not to discount effort,” she said, eyeing your reaction, “but if you’ve put in the effort, done all you can to make it work, and it doesn’t then it wasn’t meant to.”

“Before I left for the semester I ran into this guy’s roommate,” you said, “and he told me I should probably give him time to recover so I wanted to do that, but I worry that I’ve just completely ruined my chances with him. I haven’t done everything I could to try and make it better because I didn’t want to push him, but I think I want to try again when I get back in the spring semester.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Danielle said, twisting back and forth in her chair, “give the both of you the time to cool off and think about what you really want.”

“You said you made a really hard decision in college,” you said, watching her expression carefully, “what made you feel like that decision was the right one?”

Danielle paused, fingers drumming against the armrests of her chair, lips pressed together in thought. “Because I knew was doing the right thing for someone else. In the end, the decision I made wasn’t about me, but about her. I had to do it for her.”

“Your friend?” You asked and Danielle smiled softly.

“No. My daughter.”

“Oh,” you said, sitting straighter in surprise, “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

“I don’t. Not anymore, anyway. At the time that I had her, the father and I were no longer together. He was from Belgium and had moved home; he didn’t really have any interest in being a parent. I was only 20 and I knew I couldn’t give her the life that she deserved, so I gave her to a family that could provide the life I couldn’t.”

Never had you met someone who’d made a decision like that before. You couldn’t even imagine having a child only to give them away. It would take a lot of love and self-sacrifice to do that sort of thing; you weren’t even sure you were that strong of a person.

“Wow,” you said, blinking down at your hands, now clasped in your lap. “How long ago was that?”

“She’ll be turning 6 this summer.” Danielle smiled. “I receive pictures of her sometimes, here, this was from just a few days ago, actually. They’ve gone on holiday in the Maldives for Christmas.” She handed you a handful of pictures from her desk drawer and you looked down at the family, a little boy and girl with their parents.

“She has your eyes and hair.” You smiled and Danielle chuckled.

“And her dad’s ears. Poor thing.” You looked up at Danielle as she pushed her ears slightly out and giggled.

“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”

“Her parents named her Emile.” Danielle smiled and you handed the picture back to her.

“Did you ever have a name for her?” You asked gently and she nodded, staring down at the pictures.

“In my heart, she has always been Felicity.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” You said, watching as Danielle slipped the pictures back into her desk.

“Thank you.” She said. The phone on Danielle’s desk rang and she picked it up quickly, talking softly to someone in French before hanging up. “Marie is ready for us. Let’s meet her in the conference room.”

You followed after her, weaving your way through rows of desks to the back and into the conference room where Marie sat with stacks of books and papers that you presumed were for you.

“Good morning, Y/N.” She greeted you, standing to extend a handshake which you returned.

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“Today I will show you around the office, give you the details of what this week will be like and what we expect of you. I’ll show you the equipment that you can use and take with you. Of course, Danielle will be with you the entire length of your internship so if you do have questions, you can ask her too.”

She pulled paperwork from the folders in front of her, explaining in detail what they were about and giving them to you to read and sign. After the preliminary work, she went over your schedule with you in more detail, giving you a step by step program of what you’d be doing each day.

After about an hour in the conference room going over paperwork and details, she took you into a storage room, showing you types of equipment you could use for the week. You felt like you’d died and gone to heaven. Anything you could have ever dreamed of needing or even wanting for your photography was placed carefully around the room and against walls, beckoning you to take a look.

“You will have access to any and all of our equipment; whatever you feel will make the shots better.” Marie said, watching you stare wide eyed around the room. “Feel free to look around.”

You moved towards the left side of the wall, examining one of the cameras they had there, picking it up and flipping through the settings. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” You mumbled and Marie and Danielle laughed from behind you.

“We’re happy to appease you.” Marie smiled. “Danielle, once she’s chosen the equipment she’s going to be using for tomorrow, the two of you are free to explore Paris. I’ll leave the schedule and everything you need on your desk and forward you the rest on your phone.”

“Yes ma’am.” Danielle nodded as Marie left the room with a squeeze to her shoulder. “Don’t worry about not being able to use all the equipment at once,” she said, smiling over at you, “you can trade things out each day based on what you’re feeling.”

You smiled at her sheepishly, holding the camera in your hands close to your chest. “Ah, I must be so easy to read.”

Danielle grinned. “Feel free to grab what you need for tomorrow. We’ll pack it up and have it ready for you when you get here.”

After exploring the room and picking the equipment you’d need for the next day, Danielle had some of the other staff come and help to pack it safely for you. The two of you grabbed your bags and ventured back out onto the street where the car was waiting.

Sliding in and fastening your seatbelt, you and Danielle chatted and laughed as you made your way further into the heart of Paris. The sun was deceptively beautiful as you stepped from the car; high in the sky and tricking you into the belief that somehow it was suddenly warm.

Shivering, you fastened your arms around your waist as Danielle joined you at your side, motioning with her head to follow her. “This is my favorite place to shop. It’s called Avenue des Champs Elysees and it’s probably the most famous shopping district in Paris. It’s got a great mix of things to do here, including luxury brands and affordable.”

“I like the sound of affordable.” You grinned.

After spending a good portion of the morning and afternoon shopping (and finding the cutest ebony peplum coat and even a gorgeous red beret) the two of you made your way to lunch in a nearby café. The exterior was a beautiful crimson with two six pane windows on either side of the door and garland wrapping across the edged of the roof and down the columns in front. The inside was cozy and warm with soft colors and a beautifully decorated fir tree in the corner.

“It’s so beautiful in here!” You smile, gaze shifting around the room and Danielle grinned.

“It’s my favorite café,” she admitted, “I always get the same so I’ll wait until you’re ready to order and then we can go grab a seat.”

After placing your order and finding a nice cozy table in the back, you dropped your bags below the table and slipped out of your coat, fingers wrung together to try and encourage warmth. “We start work officially tomorrow, right?” You asked and Danielle nodded, flipping through her wallet before placing it on the table in front of her.

“Yes, tomorrow is the first official day.”

“And you’ll be with me the whole time, right?” You asked, nerves heightened now that you had a moment to think about it.

“Yeah” she smiled, placing her hand over yours and squeezing, “don’t worry. I’ll be with you the whole time. I’ll guide you and make sure you know where you’re going and what you’re doing. We’ll even go to the venues early so that we can get settled into our spots and so that you can have a look around and get a feel for the location.”

“That would be great.” You breathed, the tightness in your chest lessening. “Sorry, just a little nervous.”

“Totally normal,” Danielle nodded, leaning towards you across the table, “I’d think you were a little weird if you weren’t nervous. This is a big thing, I get it. New place, new people, new experience. It’s understandable why you’d be nervous. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you, Danielle.” You grinned. “So, what should I expect for tomorrow?”

“Well, tomorrow is going to honestly be a little overwhelming and kind of busy. You and I will both be in the pit together taking pictures, but Marie has got two spaces sectioned off for us so we don’t have to worry about that too much.”

“The pit?” You asked. “Like an orchestra?”

Danielle smiled, leaning back as the server brought your drinks to you and you wrapped your chilled fingers around the warm ceramic of your hot chocolate mug. “Not quite. It’s an area at the very end of the stage reserved for the photographers. We’re probably going to be standing on boxes and it’s a little cramped with everyone shoved together, but it’s part of the thrill.”

“And we’ve got reserved spots?” You asked, sipping at your drink.

“Yeah, but it’s a bit cut throat in the pit at times so we’ll be having some markers going over a number of hours before us to make sure that no one tries taking our spots.”

“What’s a marker?” You asked, eyebrow rising.

“A marker is just someone that goes and marks your spot. We’ve already got ours marked, but like I said, it can be a bit intense so we’ll have people reserving our spots by sitting in them until we get there.”

“Wow,” you sighed, “there’s a big learning curve.” You had no idea the fashion industry was so do or die, but you were actually kind of looking forward to sinking your teeth into it.

“There is,” Danielle nodded, “but don’t worry, I’ll make sure to guide you through it and answer all your questions. Also, I think that’s our food.”

You turn around to watch the waitress carry your food over, setting it in front of you before thanking her and digging in.

The rest of the afternoon was spent meandering through the shops in different alleyways, picking up small knickknacks or clothes that you liked before heading back to the hotel to drop your stuff off. You’d asked Danielle about the market outside your hotel and she’d enthusiastically agreed to take you.

“This Christmas market comes every year and lasts a week into January. They’ve got cute things for your home, souvenirs, and a lot of really yummy food. Have you ever tried chestnuts?” She asked, turning to look at you as you refastened the buttons on your coat and twisted a scarf around your neck.

“Chestnuts? As in the things squirrels eat?” You asked, following her back out into the square in front of your hotel and turning off to the side where you could see the Christmas market waiting.

Danielle laughed. “Yes, squirrels eat them, but so do humans. Do you smell that sweet, rich smell?” She asked as you walked slowly towards your destination. The wind picked up slightly and you shivered from the cold, but you could smell it. You nodded and she continued.

“That’s a chestnut. We roast them in the winter and then eat them. They can be a little interesting to open, but they’re a fun experience to have and I personally love them. They taste a bit like a sweet potato.”

“A nut tastes like a sweet potato?” You asked, staring around in amazement as you stepped into the market and the vibrancy of the colors instantly grabbed your attention. It was surprisingly warmer and you supposed that was due to the steam coming from the different food stalls nearby.

Everything you could have ever dreamed of was in this market. Small wooden stalls reminiscent of the swiss style chalet’s held chestnuts, crepes, mulled wine, gloves and scarves, games, Christmas decorations and so much more. The market wound further down the street and around corners that you could not see. Your greedy eyes devoured as much as they could as Danielle talked more about chestnuts and the different things that she wanted you to try. There were children nearby with a man selling balloons outside of a cotton candy stall and your mouth watered at the smell. Directly next to you was a stall with waffles and around 30 different toppings. Different artisan booths selling things you knew you didn’t need but definitely wanted.

In the center of it all, and right beside a glowing carousal, there was a small band of performers, violins and guitars playing Jingle Bells with children weaving in between their parents in the square, playing a game of tag and screaming in delight.

“This is so amazing!” You grinned, turning to find Danielle watching you and she smiled, bumping your shoulder with hers.

“Let’s get some food.” After grabbing a small paper bag of chestnuts, two different kinds of crepes and a couple mulled wines between the two of you, you found a table to sit at and put your stuff down.

“First, I want you to try the chestnuts.” Danielle grinned, shaking the bag in front of you in excitement. “Don’t worry if you don’t like it, I’ll be happy to eat them all, trust me, but you should at least try it. It’s part of the Christmas market experience!”

“Ok, ok.” You chuckled, pulling a chestnut from the bag. It was still hot and you hissed, bouncing it between your fingers as you began to peel away the layers. “How long until I get to the actual nut?” You exasperated, once you’d made it down to a fuzzy skin under the shell.

Danielle laughed, sipping at her wine, “there’s only two layers. Under that fuzzy stuff is the actual nut.”

Discarding the two outer shells, you finally held the nut between two fingers. “Wow, the texture is so different than what I thought it would be.” You marveled. It was firm, but had a spongey consistency, almost like an uncooked mushroom.

“Try it.” Danielle encouraged, popping her own chestnut into her mouth and chewing.

She was right, it did sort of taste like a sweet potato, sweet and a little earthy. The taste was a little bland, but it was warm and with a little salt would have made a good snack. “It’s OK,” you smiled, “not really my thing but I can see why people like them.”

Danielle nodded, pulling another from the bag and beginning to peel. “Yeah, it’s not everyone’s thing. Here, we’ve got these too.” She said, pushing your crepe towards you and you smiled, grabbing the fork from the plate and cutting off a piece.

“Now this is what I was really looking forward to.”

With bites of warm food and sips of mulled wine to heat your insides, you spent the rest of the night talking and laughing until you returned to your bed, warm from alcohol and conversation, ready to take on the exciting new day in less than 9 hours.

****

You’d never felt more like a chicken without its head than you did right now. The office had been hectic, people running around, grabbing the things they needed and looking like they were in some sort of well controlled panic as they fled the building to their different shoots.

On the car ride to the venue, Danielle told you that the two of you would be covering two shoots today, both Hermes and Dior. Just hearing the names made you a little dizzy so you mostly listened instead of talking. You were glad that Danielle was going to be there with you, taking pictures herself. There was a little less pressure to not mess things up since they would still have her professional pictures to fall back on if they needed them.

The Hermes shoot was teeming with life. The walls and ceilings were made to look like you were in an outdoor tent and you tried to look around and admire as much as you could while still keeping your place behind Danielle and winding towards where the other photographers were setting up. None of the seats were occupied yet, since you’d arrived an hour before the show was due to start. Danielle said this was typical because you needed to be in your places with things set up and ready to go before the crowds started filing in. There would be no time once people started showing up.

Thankfully you’d had time this morning in the office to fiddle around with the camera you were using today, checking settings and getting comfortable with its abilities. That was something that had made you nervous in the beginning; that you wouldn’t have enough time to adjust to the equipment. Each camera was different and you were afraid you’d get stuck trying to make something work when you were supposed to be taking pictures.

Danielle had helped you find a camera with an f/2.8 aperture and pretty decent zoom range. “The models will be moving fast; you’ll need to adjust quickly. Make sure you’re getting well acquainted with that camera because once the show starts, you won’t be able to fiddle around with it without missing important moments.”

The two of you came to a stop beside the photographers, Danielle greeting a man and a woman sitting on two stools in the center towards the front and after a short conversation, they left and Danielle directed you to take a seat on one of the stools. “So, this is the pit.” Danielle grinned, adjusting her camera bag on her lap and digging through for what she needed.

You sat down beside her, looking around and nodding in greeting to a few of the photographers whose eyes you caught. “Wow, and we’re all just gonna be shoved in like sardines, huh?” You asked, turning your gaze back to Danielle who smiled.

“Welcome to fashion show life.” She leaned forward to whisper, “all of these people can either help you, or hinder you. Always make sure you are kind and friendly, establish relationships…but always be weary. Everyone is looking for their next big break, even if it comes at a cost, you know?”

You nod, leaning back on your stool and digging through your bag to grab your camera. You were pretty comfortable with it because the settings were similar to your camera back home, just way better quality. Now you just needed to make sure it was on the right settings to capture the images you wanted. You quickly switched your camera to manual, 1/250 at f/4 and took some practice shots of the people still putting the final touches on the stage. The pictures were so crisp and clear you had to stop yourself from doing a little happy wiggle in your seat. It was going to be hard to go back to your own camera after using such an amazing piece of equipment.

You chatted briefly with some of the photographers around you, mostly men, a couple from New York, 3 from London, but almost everyone else around you seemed to be from France. It was intimidating to look around and see only 1 other woman aside from Danielle and yourself, but that wasn’t going to stop you from kicking their photography butts. You weren’t competitive most of the time, but if you felt like somehow you were going to have to fight for something, you definitely would.

Slowly the room began to fill and you could barely contain your amazement. Some of the biggest names in Hollywood were sitting mere steps away from you, but there was no way you were going to show the other photographers how much of an amateur you were, so when Charlize Theron sat only 10 feet from you, you focused your eyes on the walkway in front of you and swallowed down your squeal of delight.

When the show started you felt like your stomach had jumped into your throat. You followed Danielle’s cue, pulling your camera up to rest against your eye and taking a deep breath in. This was it. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. The music started and models began walking down the runway, cameras flashing all around you and you let determination settle into your chest before quickly focusing in and snapping pictures.

Adrenaline kicked in, pouring through your veins as you watched the models move from the lens of your camera, taking as many pictures as you possibly could while they were in front of you. All noise funneled into a pinprick of sound until it was gone and you were alone with just your camera and the show in front of you. You never thought you’d actually enjoy the thrill of a high scale fashion show, but here you were, pulse erratic and stomach bubbling with excitement.

When the show was finally over and the other photographers were packing away their equipment, rushing on to the next show, you felt like you could finally breath again. “How was it?” Danielle asked, carefully placing her camera in its bag and gazing at you from the corner of her eye.

“Wow.” You said, and she laughed. “That’s the best word to describe it. There was a lot going on and it was a real challenge to stay focused at first. Especially when there were so many celebrities around. Did you see Charlize Theron sat right there?!”

Danielle giggled, nodding, “I did see. These shows get quite crazy. You’re really in for a treat when we go to the Dior show, they always, always put on a massive production. They’re doing their show at the Louvre this season and it’s inside this dome of flowers. It’s incredible.”

You frowned, eyebrows pinching in the center. “Inside a dome of flowers? Did they construct that inside the building?”

“You’ll see.” She grinned. “For now, though, we’ve got an hour and a half before we need to be there so let’s grab some lunch quickly. There’s some food trucks nearby.” You followed after her, bag slung across your shoulder with all your equipment safely inside and made your way outside into the crisp afternoon air.

“I didn’t realize how stuffy it was in there until we got outside.” You said, taking a deep breath in.

“Yeah, the pit always gets a bit stagnant, so many bodies, so little air. Ah, there they are.” She said, pointing off to the left and you followed after her, sitting down at an open table outside of one of the trucks.

After Danielle ordered, you switched places, leaving her to watch over the equipment and ordering your own food and drink. A full stomach later and a quick drive to the next venue, you found your spots, relieving the markers of their duty and setting up camp on your stools.

Danielle had been right. A giant dome of flowers had been built, within the Cour Carrée, the courtyard at the east end of the Louvre. Purple delphinium stems sprouting from every corner of the rolling garden turf. You felt like you’d entered some fantasy land as you stepped through the guarded doors and made your way towards the pit with Danielle.

“This is so cool!” You whispered and Danielle smirked.

“I told you, Dior always means business.”

This show was unlike anything you’d ever seen, making the hairs at the back of your neck stand to attention. This venues photographers were far more cut throat than the last and you definitely had to physically avoid some sabotage shots, but you were proud to say you held your own and at the end of it you even managed to get a picture with Rihanna and Elizabeth Olsen. That one was just for you, though.

“Ok,” Danielle said, after she’d finishing packing her bag and you’d put your own equipment away. “Let’s head back to the office and get some editing done. We’ll be working one on one with Marie to go over your work and see what kind of guidance we can give you for the next few shows.”

“Sounds great.” You smiled, slinging your bag over your shoulder and following her out to the car.

It was still afternoon, though slightly late afternoon by the time you made it back to the office. Setting your equipment gently down on your table, you unloaded your camera and sat down at your company provided laptop to turn it on and get the pictures uploaded.

It was going to take some time to get everything on the computer and then even more time to get things edited to the proper standard. You also had a meeting at some point with both Marie and Danielle to go over the pictures and find a better direction for the next few photoshoots. From what you understood, tomorrow you’d be doing the Marc Jacobs and Hussein Chalayan shows. You were going to have so much editing to do. You already had a headache.

“We’re going to meet with Marie in about an hour so go ahead and get some editing done. That way you can show her your raw images as well as the edits and she can give you some critiques.”

You nodded, pursing your lips and turning back to the computer as the main screen pulled up. “Sounds like a plan.”

Loading the pictures took longer than you’d initially wanted, but you had taken a lot of pictures so you couldn’t really be upset. The computer was doing things as quickly as possible. As soon as you were able, you began clicking through pictures, finding the ones you liked the most and beginning the editing process. You’d only been able to edit 2 pictures by the time Danielle was motioning you towards the conference room so you quickly saved your work, before closing your laptop and bringing it with you.

The conference room was significantly cooler than the rest of the office and you sighed in relief. You were beginning to get a little too warm at your desk and editing when hot was never a good combination. You sat down, waiting for Marie to join you, watching her through the all glass windows as she finished a phone call, grabbing her things and pushing out of her office, making a quick left to the conference room.

“How was it?” She smiled, her long dark cardigan billowing behind her. She pushed a wave of grey hair from her forehead and back towards her bun and you smiled excitedly.

“It exceeded expectations!” You gushed, watching as she sat down across from you, “really, it was so exciting seeing all those incredible models through the lens of my camera. Totally different from what I’m used to shooting.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing some of your pictures, then.” She smiled, hands held out in request of your laptop and you quickly opened it, logging back in.

“I’ve only been able to edit 2 pictures so far, loading them was more time consuming than I thought it would be.”

“That is ok, you have plenty of time today to edit. This is why we did not want to overwhelm you with photoshoots. You will need time to edit them before the conclusion of your internship.” She replied, scanning through your pictures carefully. You watched with apprehension as Marie scanned your pictures with what you hoped was interest, it looked like interest, at least.

Finally, she nods, turning to smile at you. “These are excellent. I’m very impressed with your style. Don’t be afraid to try a few more angles. It’s a little difficult to do in such a small space, but I think you can do it. I’d also like to see a few more pictures of the venue and the guests attending. Your attention to detail on the clothes is really astounding. Sometimes even professional pictures can be blurry with the models walking so quickly, but your pictures are so clear.”

After going back and forth about more you could do to increase the effectiveness of your work, your computer was returned to you and you excitedly continued your editing. The three of you remained in the office until dinner time when you finally wished each other farewell and the car dropped you back off at your hotel. Danielle had to have dinner with her family, so for tonight, you would relax, take a bubble bath, order room service and attempt to find a movie you could understand.

****

The Marc Jacobs show was filled with a lot of neutrals, which wasn’t a bad thing, but it made for less interesting pictures. There was a quartet of string instruments playing in the corner; a song that was a little too sharp, but perfectly representative of the mood of the clothing.

You made sure to get as many different angles as you could, keeping in mind Marie’s and Danielle’s different advice for your pictures. After the show, Danielle pointed out the French celebrities you should definitely get pictures of, and you made sure to get a good selection of pictures of anything else you felt might be relevant.

The next show was Hussein Chalayan, which you were particularly interested in because you’d never actually heard of him. From what Danielle had told you, he did some pretty quirky things with his outfits so you were looking forward to seeing what he had in store.

The atmosphere of the show was deep and moody. The clothes varied between muted tones and reds with a rather boxy style, but they made for excellent pictures. The audience was extremely receptive and it made the environment even more exciting. You could hear the shutter of Danielle’s camera in time with the click of your fingers on your own. You hadn’t gotten the chance to see any of her pictures, but now you were curious.

After the show ended and you were packed and ready to go, the two of you went to a nearby restaurant to sit and go over your pictures. “I am so curious about your style,” You said, just after your drinks were delivered.

“My style?” Danielle asked, eyes wide as she looked at you.

“Yes,” you chuckled, “your photography style. You were hired on after your internship, I could probably learn a thing or two from you.”

She smiled bashfully, spooning some sugar into her coffee and shaking her head, curls brushing against her cheeks. “I don’t know, you’re already pretty good. Marie has been really impressed with you.”

“Come on, come on, don’t feel shy. Let me see one picture, just one!” You bargained and Danielle laughed, opening her camera bag and pulling her camera out.

“OK, but only one.”

You nodded, reaching for the camera and pulling it towards you, staring down at the picture sitting on the screen. It was a picture of the last model, perched at the end of the runway, staring down into the lens of the camera as though Danielle were the exact person she was looking at. The angle was beautiful, the sheer of her dress captured beautifully in the lighting. Everything in the background faded making for a beautiful forefront.

“This is beautiful, Danielle. Wow, now I feel like the amateur I am!” You pouted and Danielle laughed, swatting your arm.

“Oh stop.” She said, taking the camera from you, powering it off and placing it back in its casing. “Your pictures are beautiful, Y/N. You capture details I couldn’t even dream of.”

“Well that’s just a bald-faced lie.” You grinned, rolling your eyes good naturedly at her. “So, you said this was our last fashion shoot, right?”

“No, we have two more fashion shows tomorrow and then the rest of the week will be editing. Then next week you’ll have two couture design shoots to do in office.”

“Oh, who are we going to photograph tomorrow? I don’t remember.”

Danielle glanced down at her phone where Marie had sent the schedule, “Tomorrow we’ve got Thierry Mugler and Saint Laurent.”

“Oh that’s right. I’ve heard of Thierry Mugler. I thought he just did perfume, though?”

“Nope,” Danielle chirped, putting her phone back in the pocket of her dress pants. “He’s mainly a fashion designer. I generally enjoy his shows. They are clear cut and to the point.”

“That sounds like my type of show!” You giggled.

After lunch, the two of you made your way back to the office, burying yourselves in editing until you could barely see straight. But so far, you’d accomplished a lot and were already ¾ of the way through editing the first two shows. Tomorrow you’d finish those two and then move onto the two new ones. It was exciting and overwhelming and you were really starting to feel a sense of power in your work.

Everyone around you was a powerhouse; Marie and Danielle the most inspiring of them all. You’d met some of your other coworkers and while most spoke only French, the few you were able to talk to had taught you a lot.

Aluin, who sat beside you on your right had given you some invaluable pointers on how to take better photographs and he showed you some of his own work from back when he was in college. The work ethic and self confidence that he’d built over the years was inspiring. He was so self-assured about anything he tried.

Even if he didn’t meet his goal or it ended in a way that was less than what he’d wanted, he just used that as an opportunity for growth and to push for better and you admired that attitude so much. You’d spent so much time feeling sorry for yourself; you didn’t want to do that anymore. You were going to be better than ever before.

****

There was something about the wave of adrenaline that you would get just as the show was starting that was addicting, and your final fashion show was the cherry on top of your fantastic cake. Saint Laurent was not only right at the top of all the fashions you’d liked from the experience, but the show itself was so thrilling.

A dimly lit room with floor to ceiling mirrors and lights flashing in and out like rolling ocean waves along the ceiling of the venue. If you hadn’t been taking pictures, you would have been dancing with the blood boiling in your veins. You weren’t sure you would ever choose fashion photography as your future career, but you could certainly see why someone would.

The pictures turned out amazing, the venue was the perfect environment for a dark and sexy vibe and you were so excited, scanning through your pictures of both the Thierry Mugler and Saint Laurent shows that your hips couldn’t help wiggling away in the back seat.

Danielle chuckled at your enthusiasm and you smiled at her, tilting your camera in her direction. “Look at these pictures!” You enthused, “I’m not one for tooting my own horn or anything, but these are freaking amazing.”

Danielle leaned closer, scanning the pictures as you flipped through them, nodding in appreciation. “It’s amazing, you’ve only been here, what, four days? You’ve already improved so much; I can seriously tell.”

“Thank you so much!” You grinned, embarrassed but pleased by her compliments. “I’m honestly feeling pretty good about myself.”

“As you should. You’ve got a lot going for you.”

The office was only half full when you got to back; most of the photographers and markers out on location. A few photographers were still in the building either editing or doing a couture shoot in the back and there were a few other staff members whose jobs you actually weren’t really sure of.

You spent the next few hours really focusing on work, getting as much edited as possible. Your first two shoots were now safely edited and sent off for review and you were already around 1/3 or the way through the second two. The office slowly filled the more people came back from their respective photoshoots and conversation picked up, loud with excitement from the week. It was close to dinner time when you finally shut your laptop off for the day, stretching your arms over your head with a groan.

“Hungry?” Danielle asked, standing behind her chair and pushing her arms through the sleeves of her coat.

“Definitely.” You smiled, standing up. You pulled on your slouchy knit hat, and wrapped your scarf around your neck before grabbing your own coat. Just as you were slipping your arms through the sleeves, Marie came and stopped by your desk, bundled chic and warm.

“Will the two of you accompany me to dinner? My treat.” She asked, purse hanging high on her perfectly rounded shoulders.

“Well, with an offer like that, how can we refuse?” Danielle said and you grinned.

The restaurant of Marie’s choosing was far fancier than your blood could afford and you immediately felt like you should be refusing such generosity, but at her insistence, the three of you sat down at a table close to the center and began to look through the menu.

After ordering and seeing the waiter off, you turned back to Marie whose glossy red lips were pulled into a smile. “How has it been, Y/N, going to photograph all those shows?”

“Absolutely incredible!” You beamed. “I could never have imagined such an amazing opportunity for myself, I’m honestly so grateful. I have already learned so much.”

“Which show was your favorite?” She asked, taking a sip of the red wine the waiter had poured for her shortly after you’d sat down.

“Honestly, it was Saint Laurent from today. His pieces were elegant and not too flashy and the show itself just felt really exciting.” You admitted

“I remember when I first started going to fashion shows,” Marie commented, twirling her glass in her hand, “I was really young, just recently graduated from university. I met a man there in the audience; a very promising fashion designer. His name was Pierre Dubois and he was really something special. I greatly admired his work and he is actually what gave me the idea for this company. I wanted so badly to photograph his art and publish it, but I did not have the skill of photography so instead I just spent my time with him; admiring him.”

She smiled at the memory; eyes wistful as she looked down into the swirling red of her glass. “We married in the spring when I was 25. Young and in love and a little bit foolish. Pierre was trying to start his own fashion company because his designs were beginning to find recognition and I was just happy to enjoy the journey with him. I still wanted to start this company, though, so Pierre encouraged me and with the money we’d made from the selling of his clothing, I started this company. It was very challenging for a while, it was a different time and so many people believed I could not be successful because I was a woman, but I was determined and what I say goes. Soon enough, he was becoming a bigger name and eventually my company started to grow. The rest is as you say, history.”

You smiled at the idea, that two people could start something so special together and see it become so successful. It made you crave something like that, in the future at least. Whether it was with a romantic partner or a friend, you hoped someday you could make something special like that. “Is your husband in any of the fashion shows?” You asked, taking a sip of your own wine.

Marie smiled softly, shaking her head. “No, he actually died shortly after his 40th birthday. It is unfortunate that the world could not have seen more of his designs. He really was a visionary.”

“Oh,” you said, heart sinking. “I’m so sorry to hear that. My dad died when I was 11, so I understand. He was a talented author and I’ve often wondered what else he could have come up with, if he hadn’t left so early.”

“Some of the best people this world has known, have been taken far too early.” Marie nodded, placing her glass down on the table and smiling over at you, “that is why we must be strong and continue the work for them. I may not be able to design fashion like my Pierre, but I can show the world what he loved and keep that dream alive. I love doing that for him.”

The food arrived just then so conversation switched quickly, but Marie’s words stuck in your head for the rest of the night. You wanted to be strong like Marie, to keep your dad’s visions alive. You couldn’t write wild and vivid stories like he could, but you could find joy in the little things and you were determined to share those things with the world.

****

It was already Friday and the work was long and tedious while you were editing. You didn’t have any more fashion shoots until next week on Tuesday and Wednesday so you had today and Monday to get the rest of the editing done for Fashion week. The editing was the worst part of photography, but the end product was always worth it.

Danielle had, had to leave for a doctor’s appointment about two hours ago and you were craving her company already. You dreaded thinking about when you’d go back home and she wouldn’t be there anymore. You’d been staring at your screen for 20 minutes now, wondering what was missing from this picture’s edit that you weren’t seeing.

Rubbing at your eyes, you leaned back in your chair, yawning with a stretch of your arms over your head. You still had a few hours left of work and you needed a short break. A sudden thought popped into your head, and before you could think better of it, you were clicking onto your Instagram and flipping through your friend’s pages. You knew you shouldn’t, but your fingers had a mind of their own and you were already typing in Taehyung’s name before you could even register what you were doing.

His page popped up with a flood of mostly familiar pictures, but there were two from the winter break you hadn’t seen yet. The first was a picture of him at the entertainment company he’d been signed to back at the beginning of November. He was standing with someone from the company and looked really excited and that made you happy.

You wished you could have made him happy, but you just hadn’t been ready. Flipping to the next picture, he and Jin were on the beach, the sun setting behind them and bright smiles on their faces. You were really happy for them; living out their dreams. Not very many people seemed to be able to do that, but you were happy they could; they deserved it.

“Is that the guy?”

You jumped, glancing to your left as Danielle set down her bag and sat in her seat, a knowing grin on her face.

You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, that’s Taehyung.”

“Did you come up with a game plan?” She asked, shrugging off her coat and slipping her scarf from her neck.

You shook your head, pursing your lips. “Not yet. Honestly, I’ve been so busy I haven’t really given myself time to sit down and think about it.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing.” Danielle remarked, bringing her laptop back to life, “You’re giving yourself time to really clear the air and then it will be easier to find a solution to tackle the problem. Sometimes if we think too much about something, we end up going in circles and never find a real solution.”

You nodded; lips puckered. “That’s true.” You admitted. “Man, I’m gonna miss your insights!”

Danielle laughed, squeezing your arm from beside you. “You still have another week of this internship, don’t miss me yet!”

“That’s true, maybe I’ll be sick of you by the end of it.” You teased. “So, how’d the doctors go?”

“Good.” She smiled, pulling up her editing software and pictures, “it was just a routine checkup. I had surgery a few months back so I’ve been going in to make sure everything is healing properly.”

“Oh wow, and everything’s good so far?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, leaning back in her chair and looking over at you. “It was a slipped disk that’s been bothering me for a while. It’s been years now, but when I was pregnant there were some complications and I got a herniated disk because of it. I didn’t think much of it because it didn’t really hurt at first, but over the last year or so it was pretty painful so I went and got surgery to take care of it.”

“Wow, so you’ve just been working this whole time with a slipped disk?” You gaped, leaning forward in your seat and she chuckled, waving you off.

“Adulthood. I have bills to pay and can’t really afford to take the time off. Besides, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“You are way tougher than me.” You nodded, going back to your laptop and surveying the picture you’d been stuck on before.

“Naw, no way,” Danielle said, “you’re only as strong as you say you are.”

You smiled over at her before twisting your laptop towards her, “I’m in need of your help, oh wise one. What’s missing from this picture?”

Danielle grinned, leaning towards the picture, eyebrow scrunched in thought. “Turn the resolution up just a little and it will be perfect.”

****

Saturday morning was a welcomed break from the hectic schedule of photoshoots and editing. Danielle had told you to sleep in and be ready by 11. She was going to take you sight-seeing and you were crossing your fingers for the Eiffel Tower and a museum or two.

“Of course,” Danielle said, once you’d told her what you were hoping for, “no trip is complete without at least going to the top of the Eiffel Tower and seeing the Louvre in all of its grandeur.”

“I am so glad we agree! What about Notre Dame? I would love to see that.”

“Add it to the list!” Danielle grinned and you cheered.

After having a light lunch at a café not far from your hotel, the two of you made your way to the Eiffel Tower, paying and taking the elevators all the way to the top. The air was quite cold, but the sweeping view was worth it.

All of Paris was set out around you. It had snowed the night before, only enough to dust the ground and trees, but somehow it made the sight more beautiful. Buildings made of Limestone could be seen for miles, all topped by pristine white. The river Seine was just to your left, beautiful and shivering in the breeze.

You were pretty sure you took an obscene number of pictures, but you didn’t care. You weren’t sure if you’d ever come back here again so you didn’t want to forget a thing. Notre Dame was equally impressive, walls covered in stone and beautiful portraits. The statue Pieta was absolutely breathtaking, you couldn’t help but marvel at how someone could make something from a single slab of marble.

You’d studied all about Michelangelo and his work in your Art History class so seeing some of the pieces in person was a little mind blowing. “I can’t believe I’m here.” You whispered, glancing around the room.

“I never get tired of seeing this.” Danielle admitted. “The grandiose makes you feel so small, but in a good way.”

The golden glow of the lights against the walls made you feel warm and cozy. The vaulted domes of the ceilings inspired awe that you just couldn’t get over. There was nothing like this back home, no intensely rich culture and history that you could just feel in your bones. You would miss that a lot when you returned home. Customs were different here; in that they were intense and made you feel like a tightly knit group.

There was a sense of belonging that you enjoyed witnessing and made this internship all the more worthwhile. After spending another hour touring every nook and cranny that you were allowed to see, Danielle took you back to the Louvre, which you were particularly excited about. You’d seen just glimpses of it from the Dior fashion show, but now you would get to go inside and explore.

“The history of the louvre itself is amazing,” you remarked as both you and Danielle began to walk the halls, stopping here and there to gaze at paintings or statues. “It was once a castle under the rule of Philip II before becoming a palace for the successive kings as their main dwelling. Eventually one of the kings switched the main residence to the Palace of Versailles and this building became an unintentional museum, housing the royal collection. Did you know at one point the Louvre was even renamed Musée Napoléon when Napoléon was in power?”

“I did,” Danielle smiled, “but I’ve always been a bit of a history buff.”

“Ah, well then you must have already known all of that!” You lamented and Danielle chuckled.

“No, not all of it, but even if I had, your passion is quite charming. I enjoy talking to you; it’s always an intelligent conversation.”

“Well I’m glad I could be of some use.” You teased.

****

The weekend passed quickly and Monday was too bright and too early, but you were happy to be back at work; it was a welcome distraction from the ticking of the time on your internship. Only a few more days and you would close the door on a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were trying not to mourn the experience while you still had time left. There would be opportunities for that later.

You had your second to last photoshoot tomorrow and today you were going to be drowning in editing. You spent the morning editing by yourself, Danielle having back to back meetings with Marie and a few of the other members of staff, but at least it allowed you to fully concentrate on your work.

After lunch you worked one on one with Marie, going over the details of Tuesdays and Wednesdays shoots before sending her the pictures you’d edited thus far. You were mostly done at this point, just a handful more and you were excited to see that finished. You were always a little tired of seeing your own pictures after a dozen or so hours of staring at them.

Monday finished with nothing more than a comfortable evening and a fizzle of energy, sinking into the plush of the hotel mattress. You would be sad to say goodbye to this bed; it had given you some of the best sleep of your life so far. Tuesday was a different sort of chaos. The energy was new, less intense than fashion week, but still there in its own variety. There were too many people in the studio, full of nervous energy and differing opinions of how they wanted the models to look.

At Marie’s sharp insistence that they let the photographer do her job, you were diving into the deep end; point and shoot. This was a little more comfortable for you, a little more of what you were used to. The ability to capture what you wanted; what you found beautiful. You were less used to guiding posture and more used to discovering it in its own natural state, but there was something invigorating in the power of it.

You were in complete control of your pictures, and whether they turned out well was 90% in your hands and only 10% in the hands of the models. As it was, they were professionals so you were assuming the 100%. That was OK, though. You were a perfectionist at best, which was amusing to some because of how candid your pictures tended to be, but they were perfection in their realism, which was exactly how you liked them.

The room was hot and a little stuffy; you were warm and wet in the creases of your shirt, but you lived for this. The models did exactly as you told them and, in the end, you were pretty happy with the images you’d captured. An afternoon spent editing was a price you were willing to pay to ensure the details were right.

A company dinner with conversations in broken English, too much French wine, and not enough space between bodies in the booths made for a well-rounded evening and you met your pillow with a belly warm from Pinot Noirs.

****

Wednesday morning greeted you with sun and a hangover. It was still too cold so you bundled yourself warm and waited for the car after breakfast. Danielle greeted you at the office, standing just inside the door with a smile and a hot chocolate.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, eyes flicking across your body and you grimaced.

“Too much wine,” you admitted, “but I’ll survive.” The elevator was stuffed full of people greeting each other with sleepy bonjours and stiff head nods. It felt like a Monday.

“Last photoshoot today!” Danielle enthused, stepping from the elevator and you followed after, nodding your head briefly before regretting the action entirely. Your head was still pounding. You needed to drink your water bottle before you could even dive into the drink Danielle had given you.

“Yeah, I’m not looking forward to staring at a computer screen the next 5 hours come editing time.” You said, pulling your water bottle from your bag and chugging the remainder. “I took some medicine this morning when I woke up, though, so I should be a little less dead in 10 minutes.”

Danielle nodded, motioning towards the closet over her shoulder and you followed, going to get the equipment you’d need for the day. You loved the flexibility you got with this internship. You’d heard about how creativity stifling some could be, the dictation of what your work was meant to be like, so you’d been thrilled to find that most creative decisions were left in your hands. Danielle and Marie’s guidance had been invaluable, though, and you really looked forward to continuing to implement what they’d taught in your future career.

“I think you should use the EOS 5D Mark IV for this one,” Danielle said, going to take the camera from its casing, carefully holding it out for you as she searched for different lenses you could use. “It’s gonna help you get more details with this shoot. The clothing the models are wearing today are pretty intricate so we need you to get some pretty in-depth pictures. Here, take the EF 24-70mm as well, just in case.”

The office was filling with life as you made your way back to your desk, carefully setting the camera down before sitting in your seat and switching to the settings you’d need for the shoot. You had about an hour before the models got here so you went to go set up the room with Danielle’s help, taking a few practice shots to make sure the camera was working properly.

Marie joined you when the models did, helping to show you good positioning that would exhibit the clothing without being too intense. The dresses they were wearing were definitely intricate; lots of beading and gems. Your favorite was a black tulle dress with gold star like designs across it and a deep V-neck into the middle of the sternum. The price of €9674.50 had you gagging, but you weren’t buying it, so for now you would just enjoy looking at it.

Once the shoot was over and the frames were loaded into your laptop, you began the tedious task of editing your final photoshoot. It was bitter sweet in that it meant that your internship was basically over. You would finish editing tomorrow and then Friday afternoon you would fly home.

Sighing, you sat back in your chair, pulling your arms behind you, fingers linked together as your chest opened wide in a stretch. “I can’t believe it’s almost over.” You mourned, and Danielle turned to look at you, lips twitching up in a small smile.

“The time really has gone by quickly.” She admitted.

“I feel like so much has changed.” You said, pushing the lid of your laptop until it was almost closed.

“In what respect? You or life or something else?”

“Everything, I guess.” You shrugged. “I’ve learned a lot about my craft, but I’ve also been learning a lot about what it means to be a strong woman and it’s all thanks to yours and Marie’s example.”

Danielle looked flustered at your admission, holding a hand up to her chest. “Me? What have I done?”

“Well, you’ve of course given me guidance with my pictures, but you’ve given me unintentional advice that has been invaluable.” At the knit in her brow you continued. “I hope this doesn’t come across the wrong way because I mean it completely positively, but in college you found yourself in a situation that was really hard. You knew your strengths and limitations and decided to make a decision that could have destroyed you for the benefit of someone else. If I’d had to make a choice like that, I feel like I would somehow look down on myself, but you’re just so bright and happy and positive.”

Danielle smiled, reaching out and squeezing your hand. “I wasn’t always like this. When I first gave Emile up for adoption, it nearly consumed me with guilt. What mother just gives away their baby? That’s what I kept asking myself. Eventually, I got to the point where I was tired of being my own worst enemy. I had to face my demons and forgive myself. What I did, I did for Emile because I love her. I couldn’t have given her the life that she truly deserved and that was bigger than my desire to be her mother. I had to sort of retrain myself, learn to love the woman I am and stand by the decisions I make. I also had to learn to accept my faults and not let them limit me. I’m not a perfect person, but I’m finally allowing myself to learn from those imperfections instead of letting them dictate my life. It was really a journey of self-love.”

“I’m envious of that,” you admitted, “loving yourself enough to be ok with making mistakes and learning from them instead of being limited by them.”

“Well don’t be jealous,” Danielle said, “do something about it. You can do whatever you set your mind to; look at Marie. The entire industry looked down on her because she was a woman, but instead of choosing to adopt that thinking and let it limit her, she turned around and said, you know what? My being a woman is my strength, not my disadvantage. Then she went and proved it. Seems like right now the person you need to be proving yourself to, is yourself. Self-love is a life long journey, but it’s important.”

“How did you start, then?” You asked, spinning slightly in your chair, armrests gripped tightly between your fingers and gaze trained down on your jeans.

“I started by forgiving my flaws and telling myself every day in the mirror the things I liked about myself. Sounds silly, but it really works. At first, it was hard. My mind was flooded with self-doubt and loathing, but I just kept practicing. For every negative thought, I counteracted that with a positive one until finally there were only positives left.”

“You’re pretty amazing, Danielle.” You said, looking up at you and she smiled.

“So are you, Y/N. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise, especially yourself. You are meant to be your biggest ally.”

****

Later that evening as you stood washing your face at the sink basin of your bathroom, you thought about what Danielle had said. There were a lot of things you didn’t like about yourself, it’s true, but there were a lot of things that you did like, so how could you learn to focus on those things?

Staring into your reflection, you frowned. Danielle was right, it was weird to try and tell yourself the things you liked, but it couldn’t hurt to try. Pursing your lips, you thought hard and decided you wanted to focus on the parts of you people couldn’t see on the outside.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. “You’re a nice person.” Immediately you were flooded with thoughts of how awkward you were, but you rounded your shoulders and pressed forward. “You genuinely care about people; you don’t just fake it for the convenience of others. You always try really hard to get along with other people, but you don’t take crap from anyone.”

You smiled softly, thinking of some other things you liked about yourself. “You actually have a really good moral compass and a good sense of when a situation or person is good or bad; not everyone has that. You have a good sense of humor; you can always make people laugh and feel relaxed with you. You’re really smart, too. You’ve always knocked down every barrier that was in your way because you were determined enough to do it. This is going to be another one of those times.”

You spent so much time standing in front of that mirror that by the time you were finished, your eyes were heavy with sleep and you were trudging back to the comfort of your bed with a head full of praise and a warm heart. Loving yourself was going to be the best thing you’d ever done for yourself.

****

Friday morning came after a busy Thursday with a final dinner with Marie and Danielle and a teary goodbye to the former, who had an out of town business meeting and couldn’t see you off to the airport.

You’d packed your bags in the evening after dinner and double checked everything in the morning before Danielle came to get you for your final breakfast together. With your bags packed and in the trunk of the car, you’d stopped at a café. You still had two hours before you had to head to the airport for your 2 o’clock flight and your chest was tight with the bittersweet ending of your adventure.

You’d spent yesterday morning and last night after packing, praising yourself in the mirror and even though it had still felt a little awkward, you were already starting to feel a little change. It had given you a lot of time to think about who you were and who you wanted to be and as Danielle went to go pay the bill before you left for the airport, you had another moment to think about it.

One of the biggest things you’d noticed about yourself so far, was the lack of trust you had…in yourself. Maybe that stemmed from the fact that your dad had died and you weren’t able to do anything to stop it, maybe it’s because growing up after that, you were afraid to say no, afraid to hurt others in the way that you felt you been hurt by your dad’s absence. Or maybe you just didn’t trust that you could make sound and reasonable decisions.

Whatever the reason behind your lack of trust in yourself, you began to take note of what others around you were doing to build themselves up. Danielle and Marie were two of the strongest women you’d ever met. Danielle had scars both physical and emotional from her surgery and the baby that she’d given away. Marie had started an empire and carried it on her back, despite the scrutiny of her time that a woman couldn’t create and run a successful company.

You admired them deeply; wanted to be like them in many ways. Over time you realized you couldn’t actually be them…but you could be you, and that was pretty great too. You had a lot of great things going for you, a lot of really good qualities. Sure, you had things to work on, had done things that you weren’t proud of…Taehyung came to mind, but you had resolved to become your best self. You were done living your life in the shadows, feeling so afraid of yourself and the power you possessed, not just as a human being, but as a woman. You were done beating yourself up over the person you weren’t and you were ready to love yourself for the person you already were.

Sitting here in this Parisian café, dressed in your ebony peplum pea coat and cherry red beret feeling more confident than you had in your entire life, you were ready; ready for this change. “You ready to go?”

You glanced up, watching as Danielle came to stand in front of your table and you smiled, grabbing your bag and standing. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You said, linking your arm with hers.

“I can’t believe it’s already been two weeks. Time really does fly.” Danielle moped and you pouted over at her as she closed the car door behind her.

“It really did go way too fast.” You agreed.

“Will you ever come back to Paris?” Danielle asked, reaching over and linking your hands together.

“I hope so” You said, squeezing her fingers in yours, “And of course you know if you’re ever in my area you’ve got to drop by and say hello.”

“It would be a crime if I didn’t.” She insisted. “I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

“Promise to keep me updated on everything, especially with Taehyung. I need to know how that all goes, I’m too curious to be left in the dark.”

You laughed, “I promise to give you the scoop, but don’t get your hopes up either. I was pretty unfair to him; I wouldn’t blame him if he still doesn’t want to speak to me.”

“Please, look at you. He’ll definitely want to talk.” She grinned, nudging your shoulder and you rolled your eyes at her.

Once you’d reached the airport and said your goodbyes, you lugged your bags through check in and security and then made your way towards the gates. It had only been two weeks but felt like it had been a lifetime. You’d learned so much while you were here.

Staring out the window at your plane, you sighed. You needed to make a plan, figure out how you could ever convince Taehyung how sorry you were and how willing and ready you were to actually give him a chance.

In the end, it had never been about him and all about you. You hadn’t loved yourself enough to realize that you were worthy of the love he was trying to give you. You weren’t willing to face the heartbreak of rejection so you pushed him away without ever really giving him a chance.

Now you realized you’d not only hurt him, but you’d hurt yourself. You were unwilling to do that anymore; to be the destroyer of your own happiness. You were so ready to love yourself, to be your biggest cheer leader. You were ready to face the fact that you were deserving of the love people wanted to give you. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, the same young woman from two weeks ago, but so different too. You felt powerful, like there was nothing you couldn’t do. You were confident and comfortable in your own skin. Your body wasn’t perfect, you had little spots and cellulite in places you weren’t thrilled about; but this body had gotten you through so much and was always ready to get up and go forward in the morning. It was time your spirit caught up. You loved it in all of its little imperfections and intricacies and in learning to love the outward side of yourself, you were learning to love who you were on the inside too.

Sarah was right, you were one hell of a woman and you were no longer afraid to admit it. Take off was bittersweet; leaving behind the country and opportunity that had allowed for so much growth in your photography and even your confidence was a little scary, leaving with it a feeling of whether or not you could continue when you returned to old habits; but you refused to allow the everyday of your life to retract the progress you’d made. You were too driven.

It was late when you landed, but despite the hour, your family was still there to greet you. Your mom squealed, arms open wide as you jogged towards her, laughing at her excitement. “Oh my gosh!” She gasped, poking at your beret when she’d stood back. “You look so Parisian.”

You grinned, rolling your eyes, “What does that even look like?”

“Like that.” Ben chuckled, pulling you into a hug. “Welcome back, Tuck.”

“Thanks Benny boo.” You smiled and he groaned, grabbing at his chest in complaint.

“Hey Paul.” You said as he pulled you into a firm bear hug.

“How are you kiddo?”

“Super glad to be off that plane.” You admitted, stretching your back when you’d been released. “Economy is not where it’s at.”

Ben worked his arm around your shoulders and the four of you made your way to baggage claim through the handful of late-night stragglers off other planes. “Still can’t believe you went to Paris. Of course, my kid sister gets to do all the cool things.”

“Hey, don’t complain at me, mister. You’re the one who applied for a job at our old high school. You could have tried for that overseas job.”

Ben shrugged as your group came to a stop by your baggage claim, “You know I’m too conventional for that. I want the adventure, but turns out I’m too lame for it.”

“Can’t argue there,” you nodded and Ben laughed, smacking your arm.

“Be nice to your big brother!” He frowned and you wriggled your eyebrows up and down at him.

“It’s pretty cold out there,” Your mother said, linking her arm through yours, “Did you bring a bigger coat or just that?”

“This is surprisingly warm, actually.” You said, “but you know I went out with a bigger coat, I just packed it in my check in.”

“You might want it on.” Paul smiled, zipping his own coat up, “we’re having a bit of a cold snap right now.”

After grabbing your luggage, you followed your family back to the car, loading everything in and finally laying your head against the window. You were exhausted. It was just after midnight by the time you left the airport and after a full day of traveling you were so ready to fall asleep for at least 12 hours.

Conversation was light for the next 20 minutes, mostly your family talking and you drifting in and out of sleep and conversation. By the time you made it back to your house you were nearly asleep. Ben and Paul helped you bring your luggage back up to your room and you made your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“It’s good to have you back, Tuck.” Ben smiled, kissing your forehead and you smiled up at him around your tooth brush.

“Are you staying the night?” You asked, pulling your brush from your teeth and turning to face him.

“Yeah, it’s winter vacation for us too so mom and Paul said I could stay for the last week of your break and then I’ll head back to my apartment.”

“See you in the morning, then.” You said softly, waving him away and he nodded, heading to his childhood bedroom to sleep.

****

The next morning you woke to a fresh snow and a mild headache. Jet lag was far worse heading over to Paris, but you knew you couldn’t completely escape the time zone difference so you stretched lethargically before stepping from your bed and making your way to the bathroom, fingers digging into an itch in your back.

“Morning sleepy head.” Your mother smiled from the breakfast table after you’d made your way downstairs. “I made breakfast.”

“I see that.” You remarked in amazement, “you really outdid yourself.”

The table was filled with all sorts of delicious foods and your stomach gurgled as you pulled out your chair and sat down. “I can’t decide what to eat first.”

“How about everything?” Paul chuckled, placing down his book and grabbing your plate to fill it with one of everything.

“Morning.” Ben croaked groggily from the door, shuffling his way to his seat, hair stood up in every direction and his eyes half closed with the remnants of his sleep.

“My, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Your mother teased and your brother, having a general lack of energy, just yawned in response. “So, Y/N, you have one week before school, what do you want to do with that time?”

“I want to make a game plan.” You said and Ben looked over at you, one eye closed and the other half lidded.

“A game plan for what?” He mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“How to apologize to Taehyung.” You murmured, staring down at your food.

“Did something happen with him?” Your mother asked, taking a sip of her orange juice.

“Just kind of had a…falling out.” You said, smiling up at her, “he was ready for something more serious than I was and I was too far in my own head. I want to at least talk to him and see if he’s willing to give it one more chance. If not, then at least I’ve tried.”

“That’s a good idea.” Your mom smiled, “tell me more about him; you’ve been so secretive.”

You laughed, taking a drink from your cup, “I don’t really like to talk about things that aren’t for sure yet, you know that. I’ll tell you about him, though. He’s originally from Korea, has a brother and a sister, he’s studying dance and musical performance and he is so talented it’s ridiculous. He lives with a lot of friends from back home and they’re some of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. He’s really good at making me feel like I can do anything. I don’t know, he’s just really cool. Plus, he’s cute.” You grinned.

“As he should be,” your mother nodded. “OK, so you’ll make a game plan. Anything else? I was hoping we could go see a movie or something.”

“Yeah, mom wants someone to go a sappy movie with her.” Ben smirked and your mother swatted his arm.

“It’s not sappy.” She complained.

“Mom, it’s like hallmark on steroids.” He scoffed and you chuckled.

“Sure, mom, I’ll go with you. Mostly I just want to relax this week. Eat more than my calorie count allows and lounge on the couch with a blanket and movie.”

“I’m down for that.” Ben agreed, shaggy hair falling into his eyes as he nodded.

“I want both of you to help me with some things around the house while you’re here,” Paul said over his book and you nodded in understanding.

****

After breakfast was over you made your way back to the bathroom for a shower. The steam made you feel warm and lethargic all over again, like climbing back into the toasty heaven that were your sheets. You finished your shower, dressing and getting ready quickly before grabbing a notebook and heading to Ben’s old bedroom, leaving a knock on the solid oak wood panel.

“Come in.” He called from inside and you twisted the bronze knob, cool in your fingertips, until the door swung open. “Hey,” he smiled from his perch at the top of his bed. “What’s up?”

“Was wondering if you could contribute your man’s insight.” You asked and he patted the spot next to him.

“Sure, with what?”

“My game plan.” You said, taking the proffered seat. His bed, while unmade and a little messy, was soft and warm, and you sunk into its embrace happily.

“Ah yes, with that guy Tae something, right?”

“Taehyung, yeah.”

“Ok, so, what have you got so far?” He asked, turning his body so it was facing you, one foot on the floor with the other tucked into the center of his sweats.

“Honestly,” you sighed, “nothing. That’s the problem; I don’t even know how to start.”

“Well, I guess the only way I can really help is if you give me the details of what happened. Can’t help fix a problem I know nothing about.”

“I was hoping we could avoid that part.” You mumbled.

Ben laughed, “Sorry, Tuck. Time to be forthcoming.”

You sighed, nodding before delving into the story, watching his face apprehensively as he frowned or grimaced in certain parts and you wrung your hands nervously.

Ben exhaled loudly when you’d finished, lips puckered forward in thought. “It’s a lot to take in.” He remarked.

“I know.” You murmured.

“Well, obviously you both made mistakes, he should have been a little more patient, but you were definitely giving him mixed signals and leading him on.” Ben said gently and you frowned down at your lap, fingers tracing the rings of your notebook.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not the end of the world, Tuck, it’s been almost a month, you’ve both had time to calm down. Now you guys just need to talk. I honestly think it’s going to take more than just one chat, though, to be fair.”

“What do you mean?” You pouted and Ben smiled, ruffling your hair.

“So far, his romantic experience with you has been your body language and words at complete odds. How’s he supposed to know you’re really ready without you proving it…with time?”

Your shoulders deflated. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“Sorry, Y/N. He probably doesn’t trust your word much right now and you’re gonna have to show him you’re really serious about him this time. Building back trust takes time. Tell him you are ready and that you want to prove it to him over time and then be consistent. You make the moves to see him and you follow the signals and signs he gives you. And…if he says he doesn’t want to or isn’t ready, you have to respect that. Sometimes we burn our bridges.”

“I hope I haven’t burned this bridge.” You admit, looking up at your brother.

“I’m rooting for you.” He said, taking your hand in his own.

“Thanks Ben.” You smiled.

“Dad would be really proud of you, you know?” He said suddenly, and you looked over at him, eyes wide. “You’ve grown a lot over the last few years. When dad died, I feel like our family kind of fell apart. You and I were both really angry and I feel like you’ve spent a lot of time self-sabotaging, making it so that people couldn’t get close enough to hurt you anymore. I’m really proud of how much progress you’ve made. It’s not easy to open yourself up again.”

“What about you? Have you learned to open up again?” You asked.

“Well, I’ve always been a little more open than you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes at him with a smile. “But yeah, I’ve kind of been seeing someone.”

“Really?” You heaved, sliding closer, “tell me all about her!”

He chuckled, flipping the hair from his eyes, “Her name is Nicole, she’s actually another teacher at my school, teaches AP English.”

“Did Mrs. Lin leave?”

“She retired, yeah. Last year, actually. Nicole and I only started seeing each other about 2 weeks ago, but so far I think there’s a lot of potential; she’s really cool.”

“I’m excited for you. Really. At least one of us has got the romance department a little more figured out.”

“It’ll be the two of us soon enough. If not Taehyung, it’ll be someone else. There’s nothing wrong with you if you don’t date, though. You know that, right?”

You smiled, grabbing his shoulder in a tight squeeze. “I know, Ben. Thank you so much for listening. Seriously. Your support makes me feel like I can really do this.”

“You definitely can.” He said. “By the way, mom wanted me to remind you that you still need to open your presents from Christmas.”

“Oh!” You gasped, bouncing from your seat on his bed, “I totally forgot about that. Let’s go downstairs!”

****

Later that evening, after you’d had dinner and cleaned the dishes, you were sat in front of the fireplace in your pajamas, book in hand. Paul was watching tv, flipping casually through channels and you could hear your mom and Ben playing chess in the office. You coveted days like these, where you could sleep in and lounge lazily around the house. No responsibilities, just relaxation.

The downtime gave you the opportunity to think, too. Mostly right now you were thinking about how you missed Paris. All the time in the world and you wouldn’t have been able to explore all the things you’d wanted to. Every cute café, shoved in a small hole in the wall with beautiful vibrant wisteria and vines of honeysuckle hanging from the trellises. You wish you could have seen them in bloom, but even in winter it was an enchanting sight.

You missed Danielle a lot, she’d provided you with a lot of insight and a great friendship. You wished you could have brought her back home with you. She wasn’t that much older than you, but she’d taught you so much.

“Would you be willing to help me in the store tomorrow?” Paul asked, turning his gaze from the tv to rest on you.

“You need me to man the cash register?” You asked, looking up at him. “Yeah, the customers are in need of a pretty face, not just my gruff mug.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Sure, I’ve got some time to spare. What time?”

He flipped to a rerun of an old army show, dropping the controller in his lap, brow wrinkled. “Not a super long time, I know it’s your break right now. How about from 11-3? That way I can get Bobby and I a good solid break.”

“Sounds great.” You nodded, flipping your book back open. “I’ve still got the shirt upstairs in my closet.”

“Great. Your brother is coming in tomorrow too, but he’ll be helping in the back with some heavy loading stuff so you may not even see him.”

“Is he going in at the same time as you?” You asked and he shook his head.

“No, he’s actually coming in at the same time as you so maybe you can drive in together.”

“Good. I’ll make him drive.” You grinned.

****

The drive to the store was slow in the snow, but the familiar roads and buildings were comforting in their nostalgia. The morning air was still and crisp, leaving a chill in the car that went sweeping into your bones.

Your breath fogged in front of you, condensation building on the window as you stared out. The streets were mostly empty, despite the hour, but as you made your way further into town the sidewalks became more crowded with people, snow trodden footsteps and the remnants of Christmas decorations.

Ben pulled into the parking lot of Paul’s garden and home store and locked the doors behind the two of you as you stepped, shivering into the mist covered afternoon. You could see a few customers inside, but it wasn’t overcrowded.

Moving inside, you shook the cold from your limbs, glancing around the room to find Paul. He stood at the opposite end of the store in the garden section, talking to a man over the top of a large potted gardenia. He waved at the two of you absently and you walked to the back of the store and into the employee break room, sliding your coat from your shoulders and onto the wall hanger by the door.

“I’m gonna go grab us some aprons.” Ben said, walking into the office and closing the door behind him to get to the shelf.

The break room was just as you remembered it. Two brown, leather couches, one with a poorly patched hole in the center of one of its seats, an old, wooden table by the sink with a small white fridge and a couple counter tops. There was a small tv sat on a table across from the couches, so you sat down, fidgeting idly with the sleeve of your uniform shirt while you waited for your brother to return.

“OK,” Ben sighed, making his way back out of the office and closing the door behind him, two grey aprons clutched in one hand. He chucked one into your waiting lap and you stood, fastening it around your waist and behind your back. “Let’s go see where he wants us.”

By the time you returned to the front, Bobby was already ringing up the gardenia customer and Paul was making his way over to the two of you. “Thanks again for coming in.” He smiled, clapping your brother on the shoulder and you waved him off.

“We’re happy to help.” You replied.

“I’m gonna go ahead and send Bobby on break and get you set up on register, Y/N. Ben, I’ve got a few things I need your help with. When Bobby comes back, I’ll go on break and send him your way, Ben.”

“Sounds good.” Ben nodded.

“Morning,” Bobby greeted you from his position at the register and you grinned. He was a shorter, slightly stouter man, just a few years older than you, with short, black hair, a rounded nose, and glasses. He was quiet and a little awkward, but a genuinely nice guy and someone you considered a good friend here in the city.

“How are you?” You greeted as he stepped from the register to allow your uncle to log his information in.

Bobby shrugged, “can’t complain. Making money to pay for my exorbitant lifestyle, the usual.”

You laughed, patting his arm and stepping back as your uncle made his way passed. “You’ll have to keep me updated on that.”

Bobby made his way back to the break room and Ben and your stepdad walked towards the back of the store, disappearing around the corner. The store wasn’t very busy right now so you grabbed a Home and Garden magazine from beside you and began to flip through to occupy your time.

Shortly before noon, the bell to the shop chimed and you glanced up as Anna, Sarah, and their mom walked through the door.

“Y/N!” Sarah squealed, running towards you, Anna hot on her tail and you rounded the register to give them both a hug. “Oh my gosh, we weren’t sure if you’d be here today but tagged along with our mom just in case.”

“Seems like it was a good idea.” Their mom said from behind and you chuckled, giving her a quick hug.

“Yeah, I just got back the other day and Paul asked Ben and I to come in and help today.”

“Did you buy a beret like we told you to?” Anna asked and you grinned, rolling your eyes at her.

“Of course, I did. Just wait until you see all the things I got! I’m so excited to show you everything.”

The twins mother made her way to the plant section of the store and you glanced after her, before turning your attention back to your friends. “Well we should hang out before we head back to school. I know you haven’t spent a lot of time with your family, but we’ve spent more than enough with ours.” Sarah teased and Anna nodded vigorously.

“Sure, you guys know you’re welcome to come over anytime. Why don’t you come over later after dinner and we can watch a movie or something?”

“And by watch a movie you mean gossip about Paris while a movie plays in the background?” Anna said, eyebrows wagging and you laughed.

“Pretty much.”

After the twins and their mother had bought what they needed and left the store with see you soon’s, you returned to a sluggish afternoon of the occasional customer question and watching the snow drifts outside the front window.

Every once in a while, you’d see Ben and Paul lugging heavy plants to the front of the store and Ben would make funny faces about the pain of heavy labor and you’d smile and laugh, waving him away. By the time both Bobby and Paul had taken their breaks and returned, you were ready to get some food of your own so with quick thank you’s from Paul and no problem’s from you and your brother, you both made your way back into the snow, bundled and warm, to head home for food and relaxation.

You helped your mother make lunch, before the three of you retired to the living room to watch old reruns of The Nanny and eat. It was so nice to be home and have no responsibilities. Even though you missed Paris and you even missed school, there was no way you were going to squander the opportunity to sit around and do absolutely nothing important.

After dinner, Anna and Sarah came over in their dad’s brand-new Christmas present, a beautiful cherry red Camaro and you remarked on the amazing feat it must have been to convince him to let them drive it.

Sarah chuckled, “well since we only live a block away, he was willing to allow it. You know if you lived any further, we would have been in the Toyota.”

“This is true.” You nodded your commiseration before grinning and looking at your friends with wiggling eyebrows. “Wanna see my clothing loot?”

“That should not be a question!” Anna insisted and the three of you ran giggling up the stairs into your room.

You grabbed your suitcase from the floor, flopping it across the middle of your bed and flipping open the top. “You still haven’t unpacked?” Anna asked, sitting at the foot of your bed, one foot tucked into the seat of her jeans.

You shrugged, “let me live my lazy life.” Pulling some of the clothes from your bag, you began modeling for your friends who indulged you happily with oo’s and aw’s and exclamations of jealousy that made you giddy with excitement.

“What about your beret?” Anna asked and you smiled, reaching into your closet and putting on the new coat and hat to show them.

“I’m so jealous!” Sarah cried, jumping from the bed and coming to your side to stroke the fabric of your coat. “Feels like wool.”

“It’s a synthetic wool, actually, and it’s so warm!” You gushed. “Also, check out the hat. Do you approve?”

“Very much so!” Anna chuckled, running her finger tips across the brim of your hat. “I hope you brought us souvenirs.”

“What do you take me for?” You asked, spinning back to your suitcase and pulling out two bags filled with small little goodies and a beret each for your two closest friends who squealed words of thanks and dug through their bags excitedly.

“Did you get something for Charlotte?” Sarah asked, looking up at you and you nodded, holding another bag up from your suitcase.

“Duh.”

The three of you spent the rest of the night filling each other in about your separate breaks and the presents you’d gotten and you gushed all about Danielle and Marie and Paris until you were blue in the face and they were green with envy and then you sat down to a movie with popcorn and more conversation until their dad was finally calling them back home and you were climbing back into bed, excited to enjoy the rest of your winter break before returning back to school for the spring semester.

*****

Thank you sooo much for being so patient and waiting for this 42 page beauty. I’m really happy with this chapter and I hope you love it. Please let me know what you think! I’m desperate for your thoughts and opinions. Haha. We’re almost there, only 3 more chapters!

Chapter 12

Chapter 14

#taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader

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