#my friend got me hired at a receptionist position at the same business she works at

[jalenjala]

literally how hard is it to get a job im gonna tear my hair out

[fanfiction4sooya]

Helping Hand (Older S/W Jihyo x F!R)

Don't ask me why I did it, just know the thought of older sw jihyo couldn't leave my mind for a month or so. Hope you like it! Love ya'll, have fun! 💖💖💖

cw: sex worker jihyo, pussy eating, inexperienced reader, fingering, grinding, dry humping, 69, oral sex, squirting, nipple play, overstimulation, swearing, a very long story; not proofread so if you find a mistake... no you didn't mind your business.

You felt nervous.

You looked at yourself for the ninth time in the big mirror, smoothing your dress, applying lip gloss, anything that could take your mind off of the fact that you were about to have sex with a woman for the first time.

Park Jihyo.

Your friend Ryujin had told you about a client that used to go to the bar she worked at, a sex worker, Ryujin said. She was beautiful and confident and everything you dreamed to be, in all honesty.

You got a call.

"She can come over" You told the receptionist, taking a deep breath after hanging up. Your heart thrummed in your ears, a knock on the door.

You opened it, gulping when you saw that astonishing woman leaning on the door frame. Her big eyes complimented her gorgeous face, just as her sharp nose and lips; same lips that displayed this kind of relaxed smile, confident and warm. She wore a white strapless blouse and tight mini skirt; her brown hair adorned her features all the way to her waist. She looked... angelic.

"Good evening, darling" She snapped you out of that trance with that warm voice of hers. "May I come in?" You finally were able to open your mouth.

"Oh yes, I am sorry" You bowed, furiously blushing. She smiled, pressing a firm hand to your shoulder and making you straighten your back.

"You are fine sweetie, no need for that" Her warm eyes met yours and your knees almost gave up on supporting you. She was literally perfect. "I'm Jihyo" You two shook hands and you dumbfoundedly told her yours.

She entered the space not even bothering to look around, but you saw how her eyes quickly roamed around your body and how she discretely licked her pretty lips.

"So..." She started, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Ryujin told me you wanted to try with a woman?" Her voice was smooth, stable. She gave this older and thrustworthy vibe.

"Yes" You cleared your throat.

"Don't get me wrong, but why hire me?" She scanned you, her head falling a bit to the left in a slow motion as if she was hypnotizing you. "You look very pretty and you are young, darling. I know finding a girl to satisfy you would be no problem" She said and you deeply blushed. "Ryujin herself could do it..." You shook your head.

"I don't like Ryu like that..." You were fidgeting with your dress and she reached a hand on yours, almost as if she knew it would pull you back to earth. You completelly stopped and she warmly smiled at you, grazing her thumb over your hand.

"You can sit down honey, it's okay" Her voice dripped like honey and your heart pounded like crazy. You knew she was supposed to be invinting but you were surprised on how alluring she was. You sat down beside her and she motioned for you to keep talking.

"I feel like I always felt something wasn't adding up when me and my ex, you know..." You shyly said. "And I feel like trying with a girl, I just don't know who or how" You gulped, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm sorry, I didn't know how else..."

"Oh no baby, it's fine" She placed a hand over you bare shoulder again and you felt like you'd combust. "I am in no position to judge and actually, there's nothing to judge" She stated. "Tell me what do you want me to do" Her sultry voice lowered an octave and you bit your lip.

"I don't know, I mean..." You looked away, trying hard not to melt under her intense gaze. She placed two fingers under your chin, gently making you look back at her.

"Keep your eyes on me when we are talking, okay?" You looked back, nodding. "Good girl" Her brown eyes were shaped like crescent moons when she smiled like that, she petted your hair. "You don't know what you want me to do or you don't know how to feel pleasure?" You thought about it for a moment.

"Both. I think" She nodded, uncounsciously resting her hand on your thigh over the light pink dress. "I'm nervous" You closed your eyes and she cooed.

"It's okay, baby" She leaned closer, her arms embracing you in a hug. It felt warm, comfortable and ot felt hot having her chest pressing against yours like that. "You are okay" She said and you exhaled, your breath grazing the skin of her neck.

You felt yourself tingle between your legs, way more than your ex boyfriend ever made you feel. Jihyo smiled.

Of course she would know your body would react to her touch. She knew it from the moment you gawked at her when you opened the door. She leaned back, keeping herself still on your personal space. Blinking slowly, her eyes travelled to your lips and her breath hit your face ever so lightly. She dipped her head a bit, inviting you to her personal space, time moving slower than ever.

"I am here to teach you, hm?" She says, caressing your cheek. "But I need you to give yourself to me a bit" Her smile wasn't wide but it reached her eyes perfectly. How about we talk for a bit?" She asked, straightening her back and you nodded, biting your lip.

It was a chit chat about mundane things; college, work, friends, etc just to loosen you up a bit and it totally worked. You knew she was good but that was a pro move as she took of her boots and your shoes as well, you two getiing more comfortable in each others presence. After the conversation died down just a tiny bit you felt her stare at you, a certain glint in her eyes.

"You look beautiful" She said, eyeing you up and down as you blushed. "May I kiss you, sweetheart?" Oh that pet name made you melt and clamp your thighs.

Nodding, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, hands gripping the sides of your dress, heartbeat quickening.

Jihyo smiled at how adorable you looked, licking her lips when her eyes travelled to your breasts and your thighs under the cute dress. Sometimes work could be quite fun for her.

Seeing your nervousness, she reached for your hand and brought it to her lips, kissing your knuckles. The contact in itself made you clench as you opened your eyes to see her brown ones staring back at you.

"Let me take care of you" She whispered, leaning close enough to your face, her lips almost brushing against yours; 'that's it, no backing down now' You thought to yourself, taking the hint and closing the small gap between yourselves.

Initially it was a gentle, soft peck. She smiled against your lips, silently praising you for your courage, her right hand finding your hair to caress it as she parted her lips, her tongue grazing your bottom lip in a light movement. You slightly parted them so her tongue could brush against yours, giving you goosebumps. The whimper that left your throat was shy, barely registered by yourself but Jihyo was well aware of it and it made her ego go higher than the clouds.

Being someone's first anything was something commom for her, but for some reason she wanted to be the first woman to pleasure you way more than anything.

She sucked your tongue and made your head spin, your hand reaching for her muscly arm to support yourself. You gasped when her hand reached for your waist to pull you to her lap. It felt so smooth you barely registered the action.

"There you go" She firmly placed her hands on your hips, smiling up at you. "It's better to kiss like this" She explained and you nodded, letting her guide you. Who were you to say no to her? She was the expert, not you.

Her hand travelled from your hips over your torso and over your covered breasts to pull you down when it reached your nape and that action made you gasp again, whining against her lips. You fully sat down on her thighs, as she pulled your hips so you would hump them very lightly.

"Jesus-" You tried saying but it was cut short when she bit your lip, pushing her tongue inside your mouth one more time. She didn't rush you but you felt how firm and urgent the kiss was, how overwhelmingly dominant she felt even under you like that.

Without thinking you hugged her strong shoulders, pulling her to you even more, lost in that contact as your muffled whimpers made Jihyo wet just like you.

You were no virgin, not exactly innocent either. You just didn't have experience being pleasured. Apparently your ex boyfriend didn't really do it for you.

"Do you wanna keep going, sweetie?" Jihyo held your chin to the side to kiss your neck and collarbone. You whimpered loudly, gulping when her hot breath fanned over your neck.

"Yes" You breathed out, your heart beating fast as you felt yourself pulse. "Yes, please" You said, finally looking into her eyes again. Jihyo felt herself clench when your hooded eyes met hers, almost melting. Her lips found yours again, but this time she smoothly pulled one of the strings of your dress down, the move barely registered by your brain. Her lips travelled to your jaw as she kissed and lightly bit the skin, then to your neck, followed by your shoulders.

Her firm hands held your hips as she adored every bit of skin her lips could reach, nipping here and there (not hard enough to leave marks of course, Jihyo was a pro after all). She leaned back just a tad bit, looking for any sign of discomfort. Your cheeks were tinted in the most beautiful pink ever and your plump lips were a bit swollen due to your previous actions. She smiled and you swore you'd faint, getting shy out of nowhere.

"Shh, it's okay" She pecked your lips, nuzzling your neck. "Do you want me to take my blouse first?" She asked and you eagerly nodded yes. Not only because you were shy in taking your dress first, but also because you really wanted to see her gorgeous breasts. As stated before, you weren't exactly a saint.

She got up, sitting you on the bed as she slowly lift her blouse over her head, her eyes never leaving your face as yours never left her boobs. You tried hard not to, but you deeply blushed when they beautifully sprung free, your mouth watering at the sight. You closed your eyes, covering them.

"You don't like what you see, baby?" Her seductive voice got closer.

"Oh- I'm..." You tried saying but your heart was racing inside your ribcage. "It's not that, I just got shy..." You said and you could practically hear her groan. She was pulsing in need of feeling you.

She walked towards you, gently holding your wrists to take your hands off of your face. You didn't opposed to it, obediently doing what she wanted you to do. You gulped, now her tits were literally a few centimeters away.

"Do you wanna feel them?" She gently asked, her eyes scanning your body language.

"Y-yes" You stuttered after a while. "Yes, please" You said more firmly and she pecked your lips, guiding your hands to her breasts, hissing when your cold hands touched her warm skin. "Sorry" She smiled when you palmed her breasts.

"Don't apologize, sweetie" Oh that fucking pet name.

"It feels so warm..." You said, eyes on her gorgeous body. She guided your hand in an up and down motion as a sigh left her lips. Her handas left yours massaging her breasts and went to yours over your dress, making you slightly jolt and close your eyes. It felt so soft, so... right. "More, ms. Park" You gulped and Jihyo almost growled at your whiny tone. "Please, more"

She hungrily kissed you; Still at a steady pace, but now it was more than clear that she wanted to fuck you. Her tongue traced yours as your thighs clasped together, your dress slowly leaving your frame.

"I know I'd like what I see, baby" She held your chin up so you'd look into her eyes. "But jesus... You are perfect" Jihyo said and you blushed.

She leaned you down against the plush pillows, pushing your knees apart to keep herself between them. Your body was almost in full display for her, but her eyes never left your face. Not when you looked so cute all shy and with those red cheeks of yours. She kissed you again, now resting her body against your frame. The moan that ripped through your throat almost got you embarassed, but who could blame you when those gorgeous breasts grazed against yours in that delicious friction? How could not moan when her tongue slid so smoothly against yours and her heavy breath could be heard so close to you?

You were so lost in the kiss and the way her body felt against yours that you couldn't even realize your hips bucking against her abs, grinding onto them like you were in heat. She separated from you with a teasing smile, looking down.

"Looks like someone is a little excited" She said, squeezing your tits together and making you moan loudly. "God baby, keep making those noises for me" Her eyes darkened as her tongue swirled against one of your nipples, sucking it into her mouth. Your whole body twitched and you felt like you were on fire, biting your lower lip so your voice wouldn't be heard by anyone outside the bedroom.

Her hands roamed around your body as she caressed every bit of skin she could reach, swtching her lips from one nipple to the other, lowering her touches close to your pelvis. Her eyes were trained on your sweet yet lewd expression; Jihyo moaned loudly against your breasts when you bucked your hips on her abs and she noticed the coldish sensation of your wetness seeping through your underwear. She leaned back and kissed you, that steady pace feeling deliciosly consuming.

"You are so wet, baby" She sat on her heels, holding your knees apart.

"Oh my god..." You panted, covering your face so you wouldn't see her hungry gaze.

You panties were soaked, so soaked it showed perfectly the outline of your aching pussy and the transparency even showed her how your clit poked from it's hood.

"No need for shame, darling..." She kissed your knee, holding it against her chest as her other hand gently took your hands off of your face. "Pretty girl" She cooed, dragging her fingertips from your chest to your tummy, then to where you needed her the most, never looking away from your eyes.

She traced the outline of your pussy, hissing when she felt how hot your cunt felt against her digits; Her middle finger grazed your clit so good you cried out her name tossing against the mattress, but her other hand kept you in place. She soon found your drenched slit, biting her lip as she saw how you reacted.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" You knew she could tell you were okay, but that tone, that safety... it made you crumble even more under her dark gaze.

"Yes, Ms. Park" You told her in a breathy tone as one of your hands reached for her thigh to hold her in an assuring way.

"May I continue?" She asked and you blushed. Oh that woman was going to be the death of you. You nodded and she smiled. "Use your words, please"

"Fuck" You unconsciously said as you rolled your eyes. "I mean y-yes" You gulped when you saw her eating you with her eyes. She resembled a lioness and you were nothing but her pretty little prey.

"Then we are going to take these off..." She said, hooking her fingers on your panties and slowly pulling them off of you. "Fucking hell" She moaned out under her breath, her eyes dark as the night. "I'll make you feel so good, honey..." She traced your wet pussy lips and you cried out, closing your eyes. "If you need me to stop you tell me, ok?" She cupped your chin so you'd look at her.

"O-okay..." You faintly said, feeling your body on fire. "Please..." You whimpered when she kissed your lips, tracing your torso with open mouthed kisses, trailling down to your lower abdomen. Gripping the sheets you covered your mouth when her breath fanned over your clit, your legs involuntarilly shaking as her arms circled your thighs to hug them closer to her chest.

She kissed the inner part of your thighs, smiling when your muffled moan reached her ears and then kissing your mound, inhalling your scent; her own wetness seeping through her thin panties.

When she first licked a stripe on your aching cunt you held your breath. The overwhelming sensation almost being too good to be considered real. Her talented tongue penetrated your drenched core and your whole body shook, your scalp tingling like crazy.

"Don't hold your breath, love" Her sweet voice brought you back to earth. You blinked a few times, trying to keep yourself present. "Good girl" She praised before diving back in.

She held you even tighter, one of her hands pushed your lower abdomen down and you went insane, almost screaming in pleasure after such small gesture. You could feel her grinding her face on the whole extension of your cunt, basking on your wetness and your taste.

"Fuck, fuck-" You cried out, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. "This feels s-so good, ms Park -oh god" You rolled your eyes, biting the back of your hand as she sucked your clit, swallowing every bit of your juices she could, moaning against your pussy with her mouth stuffed.

You felt shy until your pleasure overtook you, now you felt hot. You looked down, one of your hands grabbing her hair to keep her in place; her big brown eyes were already staring at your face, completely lost in your beauty. Provocative and safe.

You bit your lips as you lost yourself in the most beautiful scene you've ever seen as she thought the same: from your flushed cheeks, to your furrowed eyebrows and those beautiful lips that flowed such pretty sounds.

"I think I'm gonna cum" Your voice sounded high pitched and loud, but you didn't care, the knot in your belly was quickly dissolving, your climax bubbling inside you. If you could describe the feeling of falling apart on her mouth it would be as if you were made of butter, melting in the warmth of her lips. "Oh my...-" You said before tensing up, squeezing her hand above your lower belly, gushing your juices beautifully on her chin and lips.

She wanted to stop, her mind wanted to give you some time to process what just happened but she couldn't find the willpower to do so. She kept literally making out with your pussy, your sweet taste so addicting she wouldn't mind doing it for hours and hours.

Her fingers circled your slit, your weak moans filling her ears and her pride growing inside her chest; she made sure to stare into your soul as two of her fingers invaded you, your eyes rolling back as your silent scream made her smile to herself.

"You won't ever forget me, princess" She growled through gritted teeth. "i'm gonna be your favorite first time"

"Oh fuck, please, please" She climbed up, her lips meeting yours felt so desperate, so needy and raw. Your mind was running miles, you swore to yourself you could taste colors, see smells, talk to angels, whatever was best to describe how good it felt to have her hitting your gspot over and over like that.

"You are so pretty, sweetheart" Her pace slowed down a bit. She licked your lips in an upwards motion, her left hand cupping your jaw. "open your eyes for me, pretty girl" She asked and you forced them open, your heart beating so fast you swore you could die at that very moment. "Look" She pulled your face downwards, lowering her gaze and yours to where her knuckles met your stretched pussy.

You shivered, entranced by the sight. You kissed her, hungry for contact, for her skin and muscular back under your fingertips. Teeth, tongue, saliva, lips, all in one motion, clashing together as if you were trying to merge with the older woman above you.

"Ms Park" You mewled under her, your body tensing up again as your arousal hit you like waves each time she thrust her fingers up inside you, your hips unconsciously meeting them in the middle in a delicious way.

"Oh look at you clenching on my fingers" Jihyo moaned against your lips, straddling one of your thighs just above your knee so she could grind on it while still pumping her fingers inside you. "Fuck" She closed her eyes, her eyebrows furrowing in the most breathtaking expression you were yet to see.

"Please, look at me" You said, voice hoarse due to your moans and muffled screams. That caught the woman by surprise, her eyes shooting open to meet your gaze. "Oh god" Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as you eneveloped one of her nipples with your lips and you felt her grind even harder, chasing her orgasm in the same pace she did for yours.

You moaned against her skin, that vibration sending waves of pleasure to her drenched pussy as you sloppilly made out with her breasts.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum" She pressed her lips to your forehead, holding your neck with one hand, curling her fingers inside your aching cunt.

Eyes wide open, you saw in real time as her body tensed above yours, slick coating your thigh as she shivered, also reaching your climax upon having such delicate and unique sight.

You hugged her against you as if she was a life saving jacket, tears rolling down your eyes. Jihyo kissed your cheeks and your neck, pecking your lips as she carefully took her fingers off of you after a while. Panting, she climbed on top of you and flipped you around for you to be on top of her body so she could hug you and caress your sweaty back.

"Are you alright, darling?" She said, grazing her fingers up and down on your back. You nodded. "Words, honey. Use them" She hushed when your hips met her over her skirt, getting a bit restless as you felt yourself growing in need for another round.

"Yes, Ms. Park" You stared into her eyes with a shy expression. You felt her tense under you, her eyes darkening ever so slightly.

"Was it a good first experience with a woman?" She asked in a cocky tone, kissing your jaw and you took a shaky deep breath.

"Uhm... no" You said and she stopped to look at your face.

"No?" She was truly offended. You shook your head no.

"It was just half experience..." You kissed her lips. "I need you to teach me how to eat you out now, Ms Park" You directed your kisses to her neck and you felt her hands squeezing your thighs.

"Oh honey, I won't even charge you for that class" She said and you tried to kiss her again, but she deflected your movement and you ended up kissing her cheek, frowning. "First you need some water" She pushed you to sit on top of her, pulling a towel to cover your body. "Rest a bit" Her authoritative tone made you shiver and that needy feeling between your legs grow.

"But I'm not tired..." You whined and her eyes glimmered.

"You will once I'm finished with you, sweetheart" She held your chin, a small little battle in her eyes and yours. Needless to say, you lost when you looked to the side.

"O-okay" You climbed off of her lap as she grabbed a bottle of water for you, opening the lid and handing it to you as you sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, alright?" She said and you nodded, cheeks full of water. In a sparkle of bravery you stood up.

"Can I..." Yeah, it was gone. You looked down.

"Do you wanna come, sweetie?" She cooed, her index finger under your chin. You gulped, her bare torso making you clench.

"Yes, ma'am" Jihyo smiled, tracing her finger to your chin down your neck, arm and then she finally held your hand to pull you to the bathroom.

You sat on a stool as she turned the shower on, checking the temperature. She unzipped the side of her skirt and suddenly your feet were the most interesting thing in the whole world. You heard her lightly chuckle and her get in the shower.

"Are you coming, darling?" Her voice snapped you out of the feet trance and you got up, seemingly unable to gather all your thoughts.

"Yes, I am" You held the towel, a blush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"It's ok" She extended her hand for you to hold and so you did. "Do you want me to close my eyes?" She smiled, but the question seemed genuine. You slowly nodded. She closed her eyes as the water splashed on her back; you slowly took it off of your body, standing there in front of her.

Your curious eyes travelled around her naked form, an awe expression as you took in all her beauty, your mouth watering at the sight. Her breasts looked full and heavy, her abs were well defined along with her arms and shoulders and her pussy looked like a fresh and very inviting forbidden fruit.

You had no idea how much time had passed, but she definitely opened her eyes right when you stared and her glistening sex.

"You like what you see?" She slowly asked and you gulped as you saw her hungry gaze. You nodded and you saw her eyes shift. "I'm gonna need you to use your words" She was stern, but she seemed patient.

"I really do like what I see, ms Park" You boldly stepped closer, under the water like she was. "Ma'am?" Oh you looked so delicious with all those Ms and ma'am's flowing out of your pretty lips Jihyo felt herselg go insane.

"What is it, sweetie?" She placed her hand on your lower back, pulling you closer to her and you softly moaned as your boobs pressed against hers, your eyes unfocused for a bit. "What is it? What do you wanna do?" She pushed a bit, wanting for you to voice what you wanted.

"Can you please teach me how to please you?" Your voice sounded like a plea, a whine. Jihyo bit her lip, her wet hand holding the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. You pulled back and her attentive eyes seemed surprised. "Your words, Ms Park" You smiled and she bit her lower lip, amused by you.

"I can teach you, sweet thing" She pecked your lips. "I'm gonna teach you so well..." Next thing you felt was her tongue on yours.

The kiss felt different this time, sloppier; She really wanted you to eat her out and the way the kiss felt showed you exactly that.

"Fuck" She breathed out, guiding your mouth to her boobs as she pulled your hair. You latched onto one of them, mindleslly moaning against her soft skin as you sucked them hungrily into your mouth. "That's right, baby... Suck it just like that" She rolled her eyes, as your hands held her waist to pull her closer.

Jihyo pulled you back up to sloppily kiss you, both of you pulsing for each other.

"Come here, baby" She pulled you out of the shower, lightly pushing you so you'd get on your knees in front of her. "Are you sure you wanna learn?" She said, holding your face between her fingers as your eyes locked on hers. She knew you wanted to. All the times she asked for confirmation was just so she'd hear you desperately whine for her.

"Yes, please" You nodded and she smiled against your lips, kissing you.

"You can start by kissing my stomach, my thighs" She guided you. "Don't be shy, baby..." She leaned back a bit. "Look at me, I'm dripping for you" She said and you finally gave a closer look to her pussy. It was red and glistening and it looked so mouth watering you wanted to immediatelly put it in your mouth.

You heard her chuckle a bit and that brought you back to earth. The world started to move slowly as your lips made contact with her thigh in a shy kiss. She smelled amazing, a mix of peach and some expensive perfume; you boldly held both of her thighs for support, squeezing them a bit when your lips were nearing her dripping center, the smell of her arousal closer and more intoxicating.

"You can put your tongue out for me, darling" She said and you obeyed, showing her your tongue as a shiver ripped through her spine. "Now come closer and make contact with my clit" Jihyo said as steadily as she could.

You did just as she told you, your nose touching her mound as your tongue touched her clit lightly. Her legs trembled ever so slightly and you heard her soflty moan above you, giving you the ego boost you never thought you'd have in the first place.

The second contact with her dripping center felt more steady, even more precise. You dragged your tongue a bit more forcefully and you heard her gasp, her eyes locked with yours.

"Fuck" She breathed out, her hand came to gently grab your head to pull you in closer. "Like that, baby" She bucked her hips and you finally felt her taste on your tongue.

It tasted different from anything you've ever tasted. It was delicious.

You closed your eyes, eager to make her feel good, lapping up and down on her wet pussy with a bit more force and she pulled you away with a 'pop' coming from your lips.

"G-gently, baby" She swallowed, her flushed cheeks gave her this turned on look that almost made you melt.

"Sorry" You blushed. "You just taste so good..." You said with a whine and you saw her expression change, her eyes going from your pretty face to your breasts on full display for her.

She sort of mounted your face this time, her dripping slit hovering over your mouth and her hand holding your hair.

"Again" She said and you eagerly nodded, ready to shove your face back where you wanted but she stopped you. "No need to suck too hard"

"Y-yes, Ms. Park" She smiled sweetly at you and that made your whole body shiver.

How could a smile hold such power over anyone like hers did to you just now?

"Now lick it from the slit to my clit..." You did as she said, collecting her juices on the tip of your tongue to soon swallow it and she closed her eyes, throwing her head back. "Yes, just like that" Her strong hand guided your head, the free one tugging at her nipple as she bit her lower lip. "Kiss it as if you were kissing my lips, darling" She gently said, her voice above a whisper and her big brown eyes glued to yours.

And that's when you realized how good it felt to make out with it, quickly learning how to pleasure Jihyo as your tongue swirlled between her folds and your nose bumped her clit every now and then; her moans becoming louder and her hips quivering ever so slightly made your own pussy throb, your own slick oozing out of you.

"Good girl, fuck" She praised when you suck on her clit more gently than before, chin pressing against her slit. "Don't stop baby, keep going" She closed her eyes, the wave of pleasure becoming too much for her as you kept your ministrations; Jihyo leaned on the wall for support, her knees giving up on holding her weight and her orgasm washing over her as her hand kept pressing your face against her pulsing cunt, sliding it up and down to smear her slick all over your face. "k-keep your face there" It was the first time you really heard her stutter.

It felt suffocanting and oh so good to have her in that position. You wanted to keep tasting her, keep doing whatever she wanted you to do. She pulled your hair back, taking your face from between her legs and lowering hers to kiss and lick her wetness from your face.

"Good job, baby" She praised and you almot melted, whimpering while squeezing your legs. "Are you needy already, princess?" She asked, amused by your stamina.

"Yes, ms. Park" You bit your lip as JIhyo gave you an obscene stare.

"Come here" She pulled you up, kissing you and guiding you two back to bed, careful not to toss you on it as she fell by your side. "Sit on my face" She said and you stopped. It was the first time you heard a really commanding tone out of her. "Let me show how good it is to fuck a woman" She smirked, already pushing you up to straddle her face. "No, let me show you how fucking good it feels to have sex with me"

She pulled you down her face, your pussy fitting so right in her mouth you felt your brain turning into mush inside your skull. You felt her tongue circling your clit as her chin bumped your slit. You couldn't tell what was your name but oh boy, you definitely knew hers.

"Fuck Ms Park, fuck - god" You babbled, completely at her mercy as you scratched the bedpost you were trying to hold on for support, both of her hands holding your asscheeks as she brought you in even more to meet her face each time her tongue fucked your dripping hole. "Jihyo, please" You cried out, eyes shut as your whole body trembled upon her, feeling this incesant need for release. Her first name burning on your lips as if it was something sacred.

"Keep calling my name, darling" She basically growled, soon latching her lips over your clit once again. You felt her circle your entrance with one of her fingers and you opened your eyes to look into hers, silently pleading for her to fuck you. "What baby? Use your words" Her voice dripped lust, desire.

"Please fuck my pussy, plea-" And before you finished the sentence, one of her fingers pushed past your entrance to make your eyes roll so far back you almost blacked out.

The squealching sounds were loud and she kept pistoning her finger inside you, soon adding one more to curl them inside your hungry cunt. Your walls squeezing them so good it was hard to move but she wouldn't stop until your orgasm washed over you, her lips attached to your swollen clit.

"Jesus christ" You babbled, feeling yourself loosening that knot inside you and suddenly Jihyo stopped almost making you cry. "Why-" You started but she was already pushing your body to the opposite direction of hers.

"I need your fingers inside me" She growled as she spread her legs a bit, her glistening cunt furiously red from all that action.

"A-are you sure?" You eagerly said.

"You wanted the full experience, darling" She kissed your thigh, hugging your ass closer to her face to pull you down to sit on it. "Now you are going to finger me nice and good, don't hold back" Jihyo went back to lapping up your juices and your shivered, a moan ripping out your throat.

You knew how to finger yourself but another woman? You concentrated yourself in doing it the right way.

You circled her slit and you heard the muffled moan Jihyo let out, her nails digging a bit on the skin her hands were placed over. She clenched and you pushed one finger inside, shallowing thrusting it. It felt wet and warm and you were sure yourself was about to cum because of that sensation and Jihyo's lips on your clit as her nose bumped your entrance.

She held your hand to position one more finger inside, pushing it in with ease.

"Fuck" You let out as she held your wrist to pump your fingers the way she wanted.

You were fucking her all by yourself after a while, knuckles deep inside her stretched hole, screaming for Jihyo as your hips moved against her lips; It was too much, you felt yourself almost blacking out as she squirted all over your hand, tensing under you as her face buried itself deeper and deeper in you.

"I can't- god please" You cried out as your orgasm washed over you violently, your arm giving out on supporting your body upwards, face falling onto the bed as your body literally shut down.

You had no idea how much time had passed but your eyelids were heavy and your body felt warm and light as jihyo comforted you, holding you close and cooing at you as you were lying on top of her.

"It's okay baby, you did such a good job" She pressed her forehead against yours smiling at you as you opened your eyes.

"My body feels so light..." You sleepily said.

"I know you are tired" She said, sighing. "Having sex with women demands a lot from your body" You nudged at her neck, your body slowly shutting down again. "I have a feeling you won't be a client for long..." Jihyo said to your sleepy form as she recalled how good you made her feel.

[what-i-call-men]

Jiggle physics

Jeff Pfister x female!reader

Warnings: SMUT, dominant reader, sub Jeff, some degradation towards Jeff, a bit of voyeurism at the end (reader finds out mutt saw the whole thing)

Request: My fic thought for the night (up for grabs) but it’s Jeff pfister. Reader is a dancer/instructor and Jeff studies her for “jiggle physics”. Thought is definitely a smut

One again I am stealing a picture from @copy-of-a-cheeto because I love the icons they make. Thank you!!

Also thank you to @divineruler for proof reading

It was another day for you to begin with. You were working at a small gym in town after your other job hadn't really worked out. You were freshly graduated from college and needed somewhere to work while you looked for other opportunities, a gym was your best option. Now you weren't an avid gym person, but you did enjoy dancing so you ended up instructing a Zumba class. It was more of a hip hop class because your gym was right near a college town, and early 00s Spanish didn't reach college kids as much as hip hop and rap music.

This week you had specifically scheduled a dirty Thursday class, uncensored music and a lot of confidence boosting music. You were doing your last few songs, pushing everyone to their "sexy limits" as you put it. You had stripped off your tank top, now just in your sports bra and leggings. When you were stripping off your top, you had a few of your regulars whistle or cheer, some even joining you as they knew the choreography. You ended your last high energy song and started your cool downs, opting to leave the shirt off as you were definitely sweating right now.

The slow sounds of Just the two of Us by Grover Washington jr played through the speakers as you instructed your class to stretch out. As you faced them, you couldn't help but catch a glance of blonde hair from outside the glass doors to the room. It looked familiar but you couldn't put your finger on it as you continued your instruction. After you finished your cool down, you moved to gather your things as some of the students chatted with you. One of your best friends had walked out to run to the locker room and came back, running up to you and pinching your arm a bit. "You'll never guess who is outside looking for you." She whispered so others wouldn't hear.

Turning to her you rubbed the now pained part of your arm and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Um I don't know, Ryan Reynolds ready to sweep me off my feet?" You asked and reached down to pick up your gym bag and tank top, choosing to toss it in the bag rather than putting it on. Your friend followed you out of the classroom with the rest of the remaining class. "No, it's fucking Jeff and Mutt from high school." She whispered and nodded to the front desk where they stood, talking to a receptionist. You looked at them for a second.

"And they have those same dumb haircuts from when they were 12." You choked back a quiet laugh as you approached the front desk. Mutt saw you first and then elbowed Jeff to look up at you. "Hey boys, long time no see." You said and walked up to the pair, holding out your membership card to the front desk people to clock you out. "What warrants such an abrupt visit from the resident horny weeb club." You said and led the boys out, your friend keeping a close distance behind the group.

"Hey y/n, can we talk to you alone? We have a job offer for you?" Mutt said and glanced at your friend. You stopped outside the gym and nodded to your friend to go to the car you shared. "What job could you two possibly have for me? Last I heard you guys were just trolling random people online and spam liking my Instagram pictures." You said and crossed your arms. You weren't really friends with the two in high school, but you did have a friendly teasing relationship with them, rather than really making fun of them like others did. You were really only nice because you never knew who'd end up going crazy, and you'd rather not be on someone's shit list.

"We recently ran into... a lot of money. And we wanted to hire you at our robotics company." Jeff said and gestured excitedly at you. He definitely was on something from the way he had a shake to his hands. "Uh... you two know I majored in archeology? I don't know the first thing past how to google." You said and looked mainly at Jeff. God if he didn't have that stupid haircut still, you'd be tempted to say he got hot. He's got a pretty good body and he looked pretty good in comparison to Mutt. It would help him a lot if he didn't still dress and look like he was 12.

"We're aware. It has nothing to do with your degree. Here, this is what you'd make if you come to work for us." Mutt grabbed a card from his pocket and a pen that hung from your bag pocket. When he handed you the paper you had to blink at the numbers for a second. "Annually?" "Weekly" Jeff corrected your question. You stared at the paper for a second. "How do I know you guys aren't just high or something? How'd you even find me?" You asked and Mutt and Jeff looked at each other before Jeff grabbed his keys from his pocket. He clicked the unlock button and a Rolls Royce beeped from where it was parked only a few spots away from where you stood. "If you're interested come pay us a visit." Mutt pointed at the business card he had handed you and the two walked to the car before you could say anything.

When you got home of course you researched the company name on the card. Kineros Robotics had made actual headlines and pictures of the men were on different sites about their sudden influx of money to their company from a generous anonymous donation. You glanced at the card and pursed your lips before pulling up Instagram, going to Jeff's page, glancing at the pictures he's posted and biting your lip. God you could really tell he was either still a virgin or very submissive in some sense. He wasn't like any of the gym bros that hit on you or messaged you. With a small surge of courage, you hit the 'message' button and typed out a quick text.

After messaging back and forth about the job opportunity for about two days, you found yourself standing outside the main entrance to the robotics lab. You walked down the hall to see glass doors and just a buzzer. You buzzed and were quickly let in. "You guys should get a receptionist or someth-" your words were cut off when you saw what was really in the room. There were humanoid robot figures and a lot of latex parts just laying around. A lot of these parts were tits or asses, all different shapes and sizes but there seemed to be something off with all of them.

"Hey I'm glad you made it. You can set yourself up in the room over there." Mutt said as he stared down at his computer. The room was all white, some windows around but pretty much all of them had shade covering them with little to no light peeking through. There was a pile of white powder sitting at each desk. Oh so they were coked out and making sex dolls. What the actual fuck did this have to do with you? "Set my stuff up...?" You asked softly and Jeff stood from his desk to lead you to the room.

"I didn't tell you what you were here for?" He asked as he opened the door to the next room. You shook your head and looked at the hardwood floor and speaker set up. "We need you to be a model. See... our last few latex prints came out... less than desirable- jiggle wise. Our math was way off and we need these to be as real as possible." Jeff said and walked to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. "I need you to put this on so we can monitor your motions to make our robots more realistic." He said and handed you what was barely any cloth. It looked like those dotted suits superheroes wore so their suits could be cgi but instead of a suit it was a bikini top and what is pretty much a skimpy pair of bottoms that were basically bathing suit bottoms with how little they covered.

"Jeff, you didn't mention this." You said and took the clothes slowly as he headed back out to the door. "Just put those on and I'll be back in a few." He said and glanced over your body again quickly before closing the door. You decided to send a quick text to your best friend- just a "here's what I'm doing in case I get murdered" text. After that you slipped the clothes on and stared at yourself in the mirror beside the little cabinet. You could tell this was a makeshift dance room. That was probably what they were looking for. Good thing jiggle physics was your thing in class.

Jeff came back a couple minutes later with a laptop in his hands. He stopped and gulped when he looked over your body in the skimpy outfit, quickly opting to sit on the ground as he monitored the points on the laptop. "Go ahead." He said and positioned the laptop on his lap, having to adjust himself a bit a couple of times. "Jeff... I need music." You said and moved to grab your phone, nodding to the speaker system, him shrugging and letting you do so. As you leaned over the speaker you glanced in the mirror beside you and he was very much staring right at your ass. God if he wasn't such a virgin you'd probably be disgusted. That was probably why they didn't know the right jiggle physics for a woman's body.

You started playing some of your best twerk music, trying to shake off how weird it was to have just Jeff staring at his computer then back to you as you danced. You tried to just close your eyes and get into the choreography as you ignored the awkwardness of Jeff obviously having a boner and you just twerking for him to collect data. You did a few hip swirls and then some quick shakes, glancing at yourself in the mirror. Honestly as you looked you didn't realize you had given Jeff a perfect look of your ass. He ran a hand through his hair as the song began to wrap up. You went to your phone to change the song and decided to strike up a small conversation.

"So… are you getting good data?" You asked and just got a simple nod from Jeff, his stupidly cute bowl cut bobbing back and forth as he nodded. "So you're making sex robots huh?" You asked as you looked through your playlist nonchalantly bending over a bit to give Jeff a good view of your chest. He once again responded with a nod as you started the next song. It was a bit more sexy than the last one. "Why don't you monitor the jiggle physics of sex then?" You asked as you lowered the volume of the song, starting your choreography, which included some moves where you're on the ground, shaking and bouncing as if you were riding someone. "I'm sure they are more accurate than me dancing." You said as you pushed yourself down to the ground chest first with your ass up and facing Jeff.

He adjusted a bit and you moved yourself a bit closer to where he was seated as he chose not to answer you. "If you want more accurate results Jeff, you need the jiggle physics of sex." You stated and gently moved the computer off his lap, placing it on the ground as you gently moved to straddle his legs. "The reason you and Mutt can't get the math right is because you need to really experience a woman's body during sex and neither of you could rope in a girl to fuck you for science. Am I right?" You asked Jeff as you leaned into him, settling yourself on his lap. His face was so red as his eyes kept flicking from your chest to your face. He just nodded silently to your question.

"Jeff, I'm gonna need you to verbally respond to me. I want to hear you say it." You said and ran your hands from his shoulders and down his chest. He took a deep shaky breath. "Fu- I need you to fuck me for science." He said softly and looked up to you as you tutted at him.

"No honey, the other thing." You said and pushed your fingers under the hem of his shirt. He gulped and took in another breath. "I can't get anyone to fuck me. Please y/n I need you." He pretty much whimpered under you as you pushed up to the balls of your feet, leaning forward and beginning to shake your ass a bit from where you sat on his lap. You rolled your hips slowly forwards and pushed your chest against his, leaning up next to his ear. "That's better." You whispered and then left a small wet kiss under his ear. Slowly working down his neck in small wet kisses and sucks.

You could feel his body tense as you reached down between you and gently palmed at him. God you could tell how hard he was without looking. You smirked a bit and continued to suck small hickies on his neck and under his ear as you quickly undid his button and fly, grabbing his dick from his boxers. Wow if you would've known he was packing you probably would've slept with him in high school, but everyone just assumed he wasn't and that was why he didn't get girls. You pumped him slowly and you could hear him let out small moans and whimpers, wanting to stay quiet on the off chance Mutt heard over the music.

As you pumped him you gently bit his earlobe to get his attention. "If you wanna get inside me baby, you gotta help me out." You said quietly and he nodded and willingly let you take his hands and place them on your ass. He gave a small gentle squeeze and you smirked as you felt him twitch in your hand. "God... fuck... holy shit..." he muttered as you rolled your hips against his thighs, wanting to at least stimulate yourself a little bit.

"You wanna make sure my monitoring is ok baby?" You whispered and he glanced over at the laptop, still reading the outfit you wore. You grabbed his cock again, now moving yourself to push your bottoms to the side. Slowly sinking down on to him, you could've sworn Jeff came right then. And he did. But that wasn't going to stop you from helping him out for the 'sake of science'. You grabbed his hands and placed them on your waist so as to not interfere with his readings. Slowly you began to bounce on him, feeling all parts of your body begin to bounce. Jeff was letting out the most sinful noises. Honestly it sounded like he only knew what moaning was from women in porn, but you didn't mind- honestly it was hot to have him be so responsive.

"Oh baby you're gonna be too loud, Mutt might interrupt us and you wouldn't want that would you? Don't want him to find you moaning like a whore for me." You said lowly as you reached up to gently squeeze his throat. He closed his mouth and nodded at you as you continued to bounce on him. God you could tell how close he was to coming again, but lord knows you weren't done with him. His moans got quieter but he still let out small whines from below you. You reached down to rub your own clit as you bounced on top of him. "Fuck baby, you wanna fuck me so bad? How about you get that data you need by pounding me from behind?" You muttered and climbed off of him.

He barely questioned you when you did so, only whining a little at the loss of contact. As you turned around and got on your knees, pushing your ass up in the air, he quickly moved to his own knees, pushing into you and beginning to thrust at a rapid pace. You could definitely tell his knowledge of sex is from video games and porn because he kinda went wild. He pounded hard and you couldn't help but moan out as he grabbed your waist with a tight grip. After he got a hang on his speed, he reached forwards and pulled you up, pushing you against the mirrored wall he had been leaning against, he paused momentarily to undo the bikini top, and as soon as it dropped to the ground he was grabbing your tits from behind.

You pushed back against him, your face now pushed against the foggy mirror as he thrusted into you hard. "Fuck.... fuck y/n." He grunted out quietly as his thrust became more sporadic and sloppy. You could tell he was gonna come again, so you reached behind your head and grabbed his hair firmly. "You're not coming again until I cum. You fucking hear me?" You groaned as he continued to thrust into you. He nodded and reached around in front of you, fumbling for your clit for a moment before you corrected his hand placement and showed him the correct movement. He rubbed quickly and in pace with his thrusts, you could tell from his look in the mirror that he was trying so hard not to cum.

As soon as you finally reached the edge, you let out a loud and pretty pornographic moan of his name mixed with some swearing and praises. "God... fuck Jeff you feel so good in me. I want you to cum baby. I want you to cum in me baby." You thrusted back on him and kept your hand firmly tugging at his hair. It was only seconds before he was coming in you, his own face twisted in pleasure as you looked at him through the mirror. He slowed to a stop and slowly removed himself from you. You only caught your breath for a couple moments before there was a knock on the door.

"Hey those were good readings, we're gonna need you here again tomorrow so we can get some other position readings." Mutt called through the door. You looked at Jeff. "Could he see the reading the whole time?" You asked Jeff quietly. He bit his lips and nodded. "I assumed you knew because you saw this room through the glass when you walked in." Jeff said and pointed to the mirror which was in fact a one way mirror you had seen walking in from the lab, which you falsely assumed was a window because of the shade. "So mutt saw the whole thing?" You asked softly, slowly piecing everything together. Jeff nodded, scared you were gonna be upset. You only shrugged and reached over to gently grab his throat again. "Guess now he knows how good of a whore you are for me then." And god if he hadn't just come, Jeff probably would've come again from that action alone. Damn you were gonna have fun working here.

[corpse--diem]

Can I Be Your Memory? | Marley & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @detectivedreameater​ & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Erin tries to lift Marley’s spirits with a horror movie marathon. It doesn’t work. Marley’s condition only continues to worsen. CONTENT WARNINGS: head injury tw, memory loss tw, car accident tw (mention only)

When Marley opened her eyes, for a moment, she couldn’t even remember what day it was. The jarring nature of the thought made her sit up a little too quickly for the pain that was still stabbing her sides. Wincing, she laid back down, rubbing her head. The clock told her it was still daytime. Morning, actually. Almost noon. God, how long had she slept? She couldn’t remember. It was becoming an increasing problem. Maybe Erin was on to something, maybe she really should get here head checked out. She hadn’t thought she’d hit it that hard, that bad, but the blackouts were getting more and more frequent, and she was feeling more and more lethargic. Stiffly, she sat up and managed enough to pull her sweatpants on-- god sweatpants, she hated sweatpants-- and shuffled out of the room and towards the kitchen. She heard someone moving around and had to remind herself that this was Erin’s apartment and there was supposed to be someone in the kitchen. Probably. She came around the corner and stopped in the doorway, rubbing her eyes again. “Got any coffee?” she grumbled.

Work had beckoned her out of bed early that morning. It was Saturday and technically, Erin didn’t need to squirrel away in her office for a few hours, but she’d wanted to clear as much of the weekend as she could manage to spend time with Marley. The other woman hadn’t hid how miserable she was and it felt just as miserable not being able to do anything to truly help her pain. But she could force her to take care of herself, to rest and to distract her from the mind-numbing boredom she was surely incurring. It’d help distract her from the ever-increasing stress pains that came with watching her symptoms slowly but very surely deteriorating. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she glanced back as Marley trudged in, her sleepy voice bringing a quick smile to lips. She nodded to the pot on the counter. “Do I ever not?” Sleep was never a guarantee under this roof, doing what she did. A constant cycle of coffee was basically essential. She watched her warily, pulling out a pan from the cabinet. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to pour some for you?”

Marley looked blearily around the room. Erin was always doing something, keeping her body moving, and it made Marley exhausted just watching her. “No, I got it,” she mumbled, shuffling over to the counter and picking up the pot and one of the mugs Erin kept out. It felt almost routine and she couldn’t help but smile fondly at the thought. Marley hadn’t had routine in her life for a long time, even when Anita was around. Her hand shook the longer she held the pot and she set it down, deflating as if it had been the heaviest weight. Her ribs ached with the breath. “I feel like someone’s squeezing my insides, actually,” she grumbled, lifting the cup to her mouth to take a long swig. The hot liquid warmed all the way down her throat into the pit of her stomach. A small relief, but one all the same. She rubbed her eyes again. “Are you working today?”

Erin felt guilty for the way she watched Marley out of the corner of her eye, not completely trusting her assurances about handling the coffee on her own. The slow speed and shaky hands weren’t a promising start. But she was smiling for some reason so she kept her distance, giving her space to do it without pressure, but close enough to step in to stop a potential mess. She winced. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she replied, understanding all too well. Wasn’t all that long ago she’d felt the same lung crushing pain after Roy had thrown her around like a rag doll. Her brows narrowed and she stifled the flare in her chest, busying herself again with readying the ingredients she needed. “Not if I can help it,” she said, tossing her a quick smile. “I took care of some paperwork while you were sleeping, and I have someone on-call, so…” She gave pause, making a show of setting the butter and popcorn kernels on the counter next to her. “I’m all yours today.” Arms crossed, she rested a hip against the counter, grinning with earnest now. “How about that movie marathon?”

“Oh, did you finally hire a new receptionist? Or...whatever job that scrawny kid had?” Marley asked, holding the cup with both hands when she noticed a tremor in them. She felt more exhausted than she figured she should, considering all she did nowadays was fucking sleep. Hadn’t she just woken up? Her eyes went down to the objects Erin proudly set on the counter next to her, and Marley had to squint at them for a moment before she understood what they were. ���Guess it can’t hurt,” she said, shrugging. Winced as her ribs gave a stab. “Okay, well-- it might hurt a little, but--” she rattled the bottle of pain pills she’d brought with her-- “that’s what these are for.” She felt as if she’d been on them forever, despite the bits of time when she’d refused to take them. She didn’t know what kind of human medications she could actually take, but this Oxycodine seemed to be working very well. “Can I watch?” she asked suddenly, looking over at Erin. “Watch you make the popcorn. Never seen it done before.”

Erin snorted a small laugh at that. “Rio,” she corrected her, though the smile didn’t last long when her mind drifted to his replacement. “I did,” she said, the words drawing out longer than they should have, biding her timing as she struggled over the best way to explain herself. “She’s good. Not that Rio was bad at his job or anything but life experience makes a difference in a position like that.” She paused, tapping against the counter, then moved to tug a stool closer to the counter for Marley to sit and watch. “Her name’s Chloe. Chloe Brown,” she said simply, turning her back to start. She wasn’t sure how she’d take that bit of news, if she’d even remember the woman’s name from the news article, but her nerves wouldn’t allow her to stand still while she waited. “Warning you now though, it’s not the most interesting process. A lot of it’s just waiting for the kernel’s to pop.” Tossing a smile over her shoulder, she shrugged and started to put the butter in the pot.

Marley moved gratefully toward the stool, sinking onto it and wheezing out a breath of pain. She put a hand to her ribs and felt the stiff ace wrap under her shirt, forcing her to sit up straight and keep her ribs in place. Couldn’t put a cast on broken ribs, after all. She looked across the counter to Erin as she began preparing the popcorn, nearly choking on her coffee as the name was said. Chloe Brown. The only survivor of Lydia’s ordeal. Her hand tightened on the cup and she set it down hastily, gripping the handle probably harder than necessary. “Chloe Brown? As in--” she didn’t want to say her name, she barely even wanted to think about her. What would Marley think, now, every time she saw that woman’s face? Every time she came to Erin’s? She tried to push those thoughts away and looked down. “How’d that happen?”

Oop. Yep. Marley remembered. Erin confirmed it was the same Chloe Brown with a nod, though she remained silent as she watched her try to figure it out on her own for a few moments. No doubt a few other unpleasant thoughts came to mind. It was part of the reason she’d been waiting to share the news. Her brows narrowed. “She’s a friend?” The answer came out like a question but it wasn’t. Chloe was a friend, at least on her way to one. A work in progress. “We met online, talking about bad movies, that kind of thing. She came over once even, to watch Sharknado.” Erin smiled at the awkward but pleasant memory. “I mentioned I was hiring and she put in an application. It’s not easy to find good help, especially with the reputation the place has now and--I didn’t know she was the Chloe Brown until the interview.” The kernels clattered into the saucepan along with the butter and some spices, breaking the momentary silence with the noise. “Things got even more awkward after that, to say the least. Explained why she made me touch an iron pendant the first time we met, though.”

Marley was quiet as Erin explained. She didn’t know how to feel about it, but she didn’t know how to feel about a lot of things. Some good her stupid behavioral sciences degree did, huh? She looked down into her coffee cup, trying to figure out what it meant. Was it guilt? For all the times Marley was at Lydia’s place, and didn’t know, didn’t care, to check around the house. To look any further than the ten steps it took to get to her staircase and the fifteen to her bedroom? Was she responsible for Chloe’s suffering, just as much as anyone else who knew her but didn’t know her? Kernels ricocheted off the pan and Marley snapped to attention, sagging in the chair. “I didn’t know you were friends with her,” was all she said after a long moment. The smell of butter and crisping kernels filled the air and Marley wondered, again, if there was any part of this life she deserved, when most of herself had been crushed in a warehouse and the rest of if left town for Mexico. “Iron? Oh, right, cause…” she trailed off, swallowing. Her head felt bloated. “I’m glad you found someone.”

“Believe it or not, you’re not my only friend,” Erin teased lightly, trying to edge out some of the tension that’d filled the room. Marley was quiet--that wasn’t anything entirely new. She was a woman of few words and Erin had learned to read between the lines. “Me too. She’s been having a hard time finding somewhere to work too, with her uh--history. It worked out for the both of us.” She managed a small smile, and when the popcorn was ready to go, she turned the burner on, covered it with a lid, and stepped back to let it work its magic. The coffee on the counter beckoned her name. “What are you thinking?” She asked, taking a slow sip, sidling up next to Marley’s stool. She couldn’t always read between the lines.

The words passed through Marley’s head without her really hearing them. Sometimes she couldn’t help it, it just happened. Her brain wouldn’t focus because it was fucked up and liked to steal her away from the present. She blinked and looked up and Erin was sitting at the table. When had she gotten there? She couldn’t recall. The lid was on the pot now and she blinked. “What?” she asked, turning to look at Erin. “I-- sorry. What did you say? I didn’t…” hear it? Comprehend it? She wasn’t sure. Her brows creased together and she drew in a breath, holding it for a moment. These episodes were getting worse and worse and she didn’t know if it was because of the accident or something else. She hadn’t fed in a while, either. She could feel the hunger in her bones. “Do uh-- do broken ribs usually make people this out of it?” How would she know? She never really paid attention. She never really understood.

Alarm shot through Erin and at the genuine uncertainty in Marley’s features. “No,” she answered, trying to hide the fear in her voice. Her eyes shot to the still healing cut on Marley’s forehead and she sat up a little straighter. “What just happened?” She asked, trying to understand what was going on behind those eyes. The blankness in them didn’t do anything to quell those fears or lessen the stress building in her shoulders. God damn it, she cursed to herself, ready to pull out her phone and call the doctor. They should have done this already. They shouldn’t have waited. “Where’d you go?”

Marley finally let go of her cup and pressed her palms into her eyes, as if she could just push away the confusion and pain. She blinked and looked over at Erin again. “I-- don’t know. It’s just--” she let out her breath, and ran her hands through her hair-- “I’m here and then I’m not and then I’m back, and I don’t remember any of the time in between. That’s-- that’s it.” It was happening again, like when her head had first been messed up. Losing chunks of time, not knowing how long she’d been out, forgetting what she had been doing. She shifted and looked over at Erin, eyes nothing but tired and worn out. She was so sick and tired of being sick and tired. “It feels like before, but...worse.”

Erin stopped, really stopped, and took a long hard look at Marley. She wasn’t alright--that much she knew already, but her injuries and the stress they brought were so clearly taking their toll. And now it was getting worse? Erin’s chest tightened and her mouth felt dry as she nodded, blinking, trying to sort out their next plan of action. That was her role here and she was more than happy to fill it. She didn’t trust anyone else to. Not even Anita, when they’d briefly discussed her taking some of the load from Erin’s shoulders. Turns out her instincts had been right on that one. “I’ll call your doctor,” she said quietly in response, knowing there was nothing else they truly could do. It was out of their hands at this point. She willed her voice to sound more sure as she continued. “We’ll see what she has to say and go from there. I’m sure hitting your noggin after what you already went through didn’t help anything.” Her eyes scanned over her again, soft and concerned, like she’d find something helpful, a clue, anything she’d missed before. “Is there anything else? How often is this happening?”

Marley could feel the concern in Erin’s gaze without even having to look at her. It wouldn’t have mattered much, anyway, considering her vision was blurry, and getting blurrier each day. She blinked and tried to focus. The smell of popcorn began to permeate the apartment. She barely heard Erin say she was going to call the doctor, too fixated on her own thoughts and the scent filling the kitchen. She really wished she could’ve kept it together for like a few more hours before her head messed up shit again. Wasn’t it enough that her ribs hurt? She’d just wanted to give Erin a break, she deserved a break. She’d been taking care of Marley constantly-- probably nonstop since Marley had shown up at her apartment, half-dead and one-hundred percent drunk. Erin’s voice broke through the stream of conscience and Marley blinked again, turning to look at her. “How--” often, her brain reminded her. How often is this happening. “Daily,” she admitted quietly, unable to hold Erin’s gaze. “More than once a day.”

Erin ignored the popping in the background as best as she could. She didn’t want it now anyway. Her stomach turned at the smell and her throat tightened, more frightened than she’d been for Marley since she had watched her collapse onto the warehouse floor with a freshly cracked skull. Just as helpless now as she was then. “And you didn’t--” she started, trying to conceal some of the emotion leaking through. Stopped. Tried again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, her voice only marginally calmer. Her head shook slowly and she reached forward, grabbing her hand in an attempt to ground both of them, though if Erin was honest, she needed it more for herself right then. “You have to tell me this stuff, Marley. I don’t care how tired or busy I am. I need to know. I need to know so we can keep you okay and al--” She stopped abruptly, her face flustering as she pulled herself together. Again. “I need to know, even if you’re scared too.”

Marley could hear the concern choking Erin’s voice and it made her own throat close up and her own eyes water just slightly. She turned away and pretended to rub her head as a cover for wiping her eyes. “Because I-- wasn’t sure they were real,” she mumbled, swallowing thickly as she looked back over at Erin. “I wasn’t sure if I just...imagined it. Or something.” It was a terrible excuse, she knew that, but when she couldn’t trust her own head, how could she trust what she was feeling was real? What she was seeing was real? She rubbed at her eyes again. The popcorn made a loud noise and she startled, jumping in her chair. Her gaze fell back to Erin. To her hand over Marley’s. It felt warm. She wanted to hold it back. She didn’t move. “What if one day...I’m afraid that one day I’m going to wake up and have nothing of myself left. I-- I think I’m losing myself.”

She couldn’t trust herself. Couldn’t trust her own mind to see things for what they were. “Tell me anyway,” Erin managed, her nearly whispered words finally breaking the heavy silence that fell between them. The pan popped in the background, growing more incessant as time drew on, and she knew she’d have to pull away and take care of it before it burned eventually, but it would take something short of another fire to drag her attention away. “You won’t,” Erin assured her quickly, almost too quickly, but even for the way her voice strained, there was nothing but a calm resilience in her words. The how’s of it didn’t matter. She’d figure it out. She always did. This wouldn’t be any different.  “You won’t. I won’t let that happen,” she promised, familiar guilt trickling in, reminding her that she’d done this. That it was Erin’s fault that Marley was like this, that she was suffering. Her hand squeezed tighter around her fingers and a tight smile replaced a deep frown. “You’re Marley Stryder. You’re the most badass, intelligent, bravest detective I’ve ever met.” She raised her other hand, pointing a finger before Marley could interrupt, realizing she was sniffling herself now. “And no, you’re not the only detective I’ve ever met. Last year made sure of that,” she chided, her smile softening. “But if you need it, I’ll remind you of all of that too.”

Erin was being a lot more confident about all this than Marley, but she was just so tired. Maybe, for now, she’d just let herself believe Erin’s words. She didn’t have the energy-- or the heart-- to fight her on this. To tell Erin that she felt as if she were losing more and more of herself every day. As if something were draining her away. Taking the pieces of herself that she understood and eating them. She rubbed her eyes and found her hand came away wet. Oh, when had she started crying? No, she wasn’t crying. There were just tears clouded in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Sure,” she said finally, “I’ll tell you. Everything.” If I remember. She didn’t add that part. The popcorn was yelling every few seconds now, but Erin wasn’t moving. Marley glanced over at the pot and saw the lid dancing with each kernel explosion. “Uh, should you-- get that?” she asked, turning to look back at Erin. “If you burn my first ever homemade popcorn, I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

Erin let out a breath--it wasn’t exactly full of relief but she supposed it was the closest thing to it in that moment. Marley’s promise helped though, even if watching her eyes grow wet like that always made her chest sting. “Right,” she sighed, a faint chuckle on that same breath. The popcorn. She pulled her hands away, back into herself, and jumped up to grab the popcorn off the burner. After inspecting the bounty in the bowl, she was glad to see that only a small portion of it had reached the burning stage. Generally edible. Her stomach still turned and the smile she greeted her with, bowl in tow, felt hollow. “Did you, uh, still want to--” She gestured towards the living room. “I can meet you in there after I call the doctor?”

Marley looked behind her when Erin gestured and remembered they were supposed to have a horror movie marathon today. She had all the movies set out on the table in a little display. Something tumbled into Marley’s chest, a familiar feeling that she thought, perhaps, she’d just imagined. But if she was feeling it again, then maybe it was real. “Yeah, yes,” she said, turning to look back at Erin. “We gotta do something with our Sunday, right?” She wasn’t exactly hopeful that things would pan out well, especially with what the doctor would say, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin the day if she could help it. “Sure, yeah,” she nodded, standing back up and grabbing her coffee cup. It was helping a little, the coffee. She didn’t feel completely exhausted, even if it still hung on her bones like a curse. “I’ll meet you in there.”

For all the bravado she’d thrown Marley’s way, Erin deflated the moment Marley hobbled into the next room. The energy she’d started the day off with, the flicker of excitement of the afternoon she’d planned was snuffed out in one heaving blow. She was usually better at this, about hiding her stress and worry from Marley. Something about this didn’t feel right, though, and it was a feeling she couldn’t shake. Marley didn’t look or sound good, and the way her worry made her stomach roll was hard to ignore. She was thankful she’d already seen most of those movies a dozen times. Her mind wasn’t here at all. “I’ll bring out the popcorn--and don’t start without me!” She called after her, trying to insert some enthusiasm into her voice.

This was fine. This was nothing a cat scan or an MRI or whatever they needed from her couldn’t find. It was nothing they couldn’t fix. This was fixable. Marley would be fine and continue positively progressing like she had before the car accident. She pulled out her phone, dialing the number to her doctor, repeating it over and over until the words, feeling and sounding like a broken record, carried her through this phone call.

[thejacketandthehook]

The Art of Pretending

Title: The Art of Pretending 1/?

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary:  Killian Jones needs a family and needs one now. In order to impress his boss, Killian hires a single mother and her son to pretend to be his wife and son for the weekend. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Author’s Notes: Hello all! Here is my submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon!This is based off of the Lifetime movie, "Borrowed Hearts," starring Eric McCormack and Roma Downey. The movie came out in 1997, and I consider it to be one of the first made-for-tv Christmas movies.

A couple of years ago I was watching it and thought this would be a fantastic scenario for our favorite Captain and Savior. I wrote it and then stopped, and then started it again, only to stop again. When I saw this movie marathon, I knew instantly this was the movie I wanted to do and I wanted to make sure that I finished it this time.

I hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Teen (for language mostly)

Word Count: 3534

A3O

Henry Swan looked up at the night sky and closed his eyes. If anything in his eight years of life has taught him, it was the first star you saw was the one you always made a wish on. And so he did. He closed his eyes so tightly, his little fists clutched, and his mind could only focus on one thing.

A house.

Not necessarily a home, because at eight he really didn't understand the difference between a house and a home. To him, they kind of meant the same thing. And he did have a home, with his mother, Emma, and their landlord, a fiery older woman she insisted that everyone call "Granny." But it was Thanksgiving, and he knew that he should be giving thanks for the fact that he has a roof over his head, friends and family to eat with, and food on the table - even if his mother does make him eat vegetables.

But they lived in a small apartment where you can hear every sound all the tenants make. You couldn't have the air conditioner on at the same time as the oven, and God forbid you try to take a bath without the neighbors below complaining of a leak. Henry's room was also the size of a closet, which could only contain his bed, a small dresser, and an even smaller toy box. He was getting too big for the room, honestly. The rest of the apartment was rundown, and he knew that his mother was doing the best that she could. She worked really long hours as a waitress in a local diner.  

But no matter how hard she worked, it never seemed to be enough. The only thing he asked for for his birthday this year was a fairy tale book he saw at a secondhand book store. The book is amazing, but it also cost upwards of fifty dollars. He felt bad, because he knew that his mom was getting a bill after bill after bill. She tried to hid it from him, but he knew was "LAST NOTICE" meant.

(He looked it up online, honestly.)

So while he was wishing for a house, a smaller part of him was hoping his mother could get a better job or something to help get more money. They needed it.

Henry also needed a bigger room.

"Henry!" his mother called from the dining room. "Food's ready!"

Walking away from his window, Henry took a deep breath before bouncing into the room. "Smells delicious, Mom!"

"Oh, thanks kid. But Granny's the one who cooked everything," she said, gesturing to the older woman who walked in carrying the turkey.

"Hey, I made the dessert!" Granny's only grandchild, and fellow waitress at the diner that Granny owned and Emma worked at, Ruby piped up. "It's apple pie." She winked at Henry. "Your favorite."

"It's supposed to be pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving," Emma said, coming into the room wearing oven mitts as she carried a casserole dish filled with mashed potatoes.

"We have that too," Mary Margaret Nolan chimed. She was Emma's best friend, and Henry's godmother. Henry looked at her as more like a family member than a friend, along with her husband, David, who was putting ice in the cups. "David made a fresh pie this morning."

"Only the best for my nephew," he said, grinning at Henry.

The table that was only supposed to seat four sat the six of them somewhat snuggly. Henry was squished between his mother and aunt, and he smiled as he looked around. After everyone sat down, Granny insisted that they should say grace, and though Henry only went to church for Easter and Christmas (and the occasionally Sunday when Emma feels that they should go), he bowed his head too.

He might have said his only little prayer, because when you're desperate for a change, you'll pray (or wish) to anything.

"Let's eat!" Granny announced as she got up to cut the turkey. There was a lot of chatter and music playing softly in the background. Emma filled Henry's plate with turkey, mashed potatoes, and corn, and he thought that maybe the house wasn't big, but his heart certainly was.

~*~

Three weeks before Christmas. God, did he hate this time of year. Everyone was so fake, pretending to be in the Christmas spirit when really they were just looking for a way to buy their mother a gift that was way too expensive because they're not actually sure what she would want.

Killian Jones sighed as he entered his place of work and walked past the receptionists who might have said hello to him, but he wasn't sure. Because right now, he had big news. Huge, really. And he really needed to get to the thirty fourth floor to find his business partner (and perhaps closet friend) David Nolan.

Killian began working for the Woodman Corporation right out of college. He started as everyone does, an intern before just working his way up. Now he's the manager of this branch in New York, and overseas hundreds of workers. Not bad for a boy who came over to America when he was fifteen with his brother and barely any money in their pockets.

The Woodman Corporation was the company you wanted to hire when you wanted a building made. "We make dreams come true!" had always been the slogan. And though Killian wasn't exactly sure about the dreams part, they certainly did make wonderful buildings. And the owner, Marco Woodman, was just the kindest soul one could meet. Killian had the occasion to meet him once before, which was when Mr. Woodman came to visit his New York office, and Killian had just started getting paid for his work at that time. There was another branch in Boston, one in Chicago, and one in Los Angeles. Rumor was that Marco wanted to go overseas, and back to his home, London. Killian would almost kill for the position. Killian too was from London, and would love to go back. Nothing was really keeping him here in New York anyway.

Killian got on the elevator, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had to see David and tell him the news. Now. He was going to burst if he didn't tell his partner the news in the next minute.

Killian has known David for only the last number of years, but it certainly feels longer than that. While Killian had already been working here when he arrived, David had an air about them that screamed “Royalty” and walked around like he had a stick up his butt. In actuality, Killian and David hadn’t really become that close until two summers ago when they were accidently stuck in an elevator together. Though it was only forty-five minutes, the two men realized that they had quite a bit in common and after that moment became fast friends. David is the first person that Killian runs to with news, and vice versa. So it’s no wonder that not only would Killian practically run to his friend’s office, but that he knew David would share the same excitement with him.

Finally, the elevator dinged and he got off, quickly making his way to David's office. Barely greeting David's secretary, Killian burst open the door to David's office before proclaiming, "He's coming here."

David looks exactly how you picture Prince Charming from those fairy tale stories you probably heard about years ago. Tall, masculine, with blue eyes and sandy-brown hair, he was definitely the typical “boy-next-door” that every daughter wants to bring home to show their momma. Fortunately for David, and unfortunately for all the women who work at this branch, David met his soulmate when he was in high school and married her straight after college. Killian thought he was foolish to marry the one and only girl he ever truly loved, but David told him that she was “the one who he made sure would never get away.” Killian scoffed at that, and called him a blind-loving fool in his mind.

When Killian came bursting through the door, David looked up from his desk. "Who? Jesus? Has the second coming come so close to Christmas?"

"No, you ninny. Marco is coming here."

David stood up slowly, a look of astonishment and awe on his face. "Are you serious? Dude, this is huge. If he's coming here that means..."

Killian started to grin. "I know."

"Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe he is going to make a branch in London."

"Oh, how I hope they are."

"That might be why he's coming. Maybe he's here to offer you the job."

Killian crossed two fingers. "I do sure hope you're right."

David pretended to be hurt. "And you would consider leaving me and Mary Margaret in this our hour of need?"

"Our of need? Mate, she's pregnant, not dying. And she's got another three months to go. I can come back from London by then."

"Would you really go?" David asked, sitting back down behind his desk.

Killian shrugged. "Probably. I mean, Liam is back there, you know, with Elsa and my nephew. And I do love New York, but...I don't know. Maybe I should go back. Besides you, I have nothing really tying me here, you know."

"I'm touched that you would consider staying for me."

Killian smirked. "You know I love our bromance. Is that what Mary Margaret called it?"

"Yeah, apparently, that's what her students call it nowadays. A friendship between two men."

"They're ten. They don't know what's hip any more than we do."

"They're closer to understanding it."

Killian sighed as he sat down. "Isn't that true? But back to the matter at hand – Mr. Woodman coming here. Now. I wonder if Regina knows about this.”

“Probably,” David sighed as he sat back down behind his desk. “She’s the head of P.R. here, if anyone should know about Mr. Woodman’s return, it –”

“Men,” Regina Mills, said sternly as she threw open the office door. With her dark black hair and dark brown eyes, Regina was beautiful, but she was by no means a warm woman. However, she had a sort of soft spot for Killian and David, which is why they only gave a small jump when she walked into the room, and didn’t scream or nearly jump out of their chairs (which Killian would be ashamed to admit may have happened once. May have.) “Did you hear the news?”

“About Mr. Woodman?” David asked, as Regina walked further into the room and nodded. “Yeah, we did. We were just discussing why he might be coming here.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? He wants someone to take over the London section.”

“And what, you want the job?” Killian asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Please,” she scoffed, as though the thought alone was ridiculous. Killian has known Regina long enough to know that she was being serious with her answer. “The last thing I would want is to move to London. All that rain and eating fish?” She shuttered, and Killian and David gave a small grin to each other before looking back at her. “No thank you. No, I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Woodman, and….”

Just then, David’s assistant, Ariel, popped her head into the office and said, “Mr. Jones – sorry to interrupt, but your assistant called. He said that you have Mr. Woodman on the phone.”

Killian, David, and Regina all looked at each other. Killian was so excited, he barely noticed Regina’s face pale as he replied, “Send the call through to here.” Ariel nodded before closing the door behind her.

“Killian, before you take that call—” Regina started, but Killian waved her off.

“Whatever it is, it can wait, Regina. This might the moment my life changes,” he grinned at his friend, who grinned back at him.

“Yeah, about life changing…” But before Regina could get another word in, the phone on David’s desk rang.

Killian smiled before he leaned over, picked up the phone, and pressed the button to except the call. “Mr. Woodman, sir, what a wonderful surprise.”

“Mr. Jones? How are you doing?” Marco asked in his old Italian voice.

“I’m fine, sir, just fine. And how are you?”

“Bene, fine. I needed to talk to you, Mr. Jones—”

“Please, call me Killian.”

Marco chuckled. “Killian, eh? Killian, I needed to talk to you. I would love to come to New York to visit, yes? I want to see how we are doing there.”

“Oh, you’re coming here?” Killian asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice, even though he looked at David and both pumped the air. “Oh, sir, that’s wonderful. In fact, I insist that you stay at my house, as my guest.”

“Killian, that is very kind, very kind. I would love to stay with you and your family.”

He smiled and was about to respond when Marco’s words registered. Smile fading, he shook his head as he asked, “Stay with my family—?”

Before he could ask what exactly Mr. Woodman meant by that, Regina took the phone out of Killian’s hand and said, “Mr. Woodman? Regina Mills here, how are you?” She paused as he answered. “Oh, I’m fine, just fine. Yes, Killian is fine, he just got into a coughing fit, poor thing.” She lied, looking at him and then glancing away when he mouthed, Regina, what the hell? “Oh, yes, Killian would love to have you come and meet his family, I’m sure.” She paused again before, “Yes, Mrs. Jones and their child are anxious to meet you too.” Killian’s eyes almost bugged out of their head, his mouth dropping before he looked over at David, who was just as stunned as Killian was. “Yes, I will pass along the message. Yes, Killian is fine now. We can’t wait to see you either, Mr. Woodman. Ciao.”

As soon as the phone was back in the receiver, Killian all but screamed, “Regina, what the bloody hell is he talking about?! What family does he want to meet?!”

Regina leaned on David’s desk, and though her shoulders were back and her back was straight, she kept looking down at her shoes. She muttered something under her breath.

“What was that?” David asked.

She cleared her throat. “I may have touched up your image a bit.”

Killian raised his eyebrows even higher and leaned forward. “Wait. What?”

“Well, it’s just,” she paused before continuing. “I know you’re a hard-working man, but…Marco has certain expectations, and Killian….”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you just…don’t meet them.”

“What do you mean? You just said I’m a hard-working man.”

Now she looked at him. “You are! And you completely deserve that London promotion. But Marco is a family man, and he expects his employees to also be family…people.”

“You’re not a family person,” David muttered before sinking further into his seat when Regina gave him a glare over her shoulder.

“That may be true,” she added softly as she looked down before flicking her hair over her shoulder. “But I’m not the one who needs to impress Marco for a job.”

“What are you saying, Regina, that you ‘spruced’ up my image?” Killian asked, his stomach going somewhere near the floor.

Looking him straight into the eye, she proclaimed, “That’s exactly what I did.”

Killian shook his head and began pacing behind the chairs that were facing David’s desk. “Wait, you told Marco that I have a family? What kind of family?”

She shrugged. “The normal kind. A wife and kid.”

“Regina, why would you do such a thing?” David asked. “Killian’s not a bad guy.”

“No, I know that,” she insisted. “But I mean…you may have a bit of a reputation.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Killian, don’t play stupid, it’s not a good look on you,” she snapped at him. “You know how it looks that at every Christmas party or celebration we have in the office, you either show up with a woman no one has seen before or sees again, or you come alone. And Marco is a well-established business man, who prides himself on a having a good family.”

“Didn’t he adopt?” Killian asked.

“Does it matter?” Regina replied. “He has a kid. He loved his wife until her passing. He prides himself on hiring people who are loyal and respectable, and who know that family is above all else.”

“How in hell do you know so much about this?” David asked.

“I’m the P.R. person, of course I need to know almost everything about our C.E.O.” She rolled her eyes.

“There’s just one problem with your plan, darling,” Killian said, clutching his hands on the chair and leaning forward. “I don’t have a bloody family!” Taking a deep breath, he said as calmly as he could, “You know that I only have my brother who is in London right now.”

“Yes, yes, I know that,” Regina nodded. For once in her life, Regina paused to think about what she should say next. "I might have come up with a hypothetically family for you, yes. In all honestly, I just said it so he would meet with you."

"We have met!"

"Yes, years ago. Killian, you were barely out of college when you two met. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say he doesn't even remember you."

"Well, gee, thanks," Killian replied sarcastically.

"So," David interrupted, finally. "Let me get this straight. When Mr. Woodman comes, Killian - who just invited him to stay at his house - is going to showcase his family, which he doesn't have?"

Regina nodded. "Yes, that's pretty much the story."

David looked Killian sympathetically. "You're screwed, man."

Killian gave him a look before he replied sarcastically, "Thanks mate."

"Listen, we'll fix this." Regina stated.

"How? Are you going to tell Mr. Woodman that my "family" died tragically in a car accident? Because I don't see how we can fix this?"

"We'll give you a family, dumbass!"

Killian raised an eyebrow before looking at David and commenting, "She's the one who invented a family for me, but I'm the dumbass?"

"I was trying to make you look better!" Regina argued. "I don't think Mr. Woodman- once more remind you, a family man - would want to hear stories about how you have dated every woman in New York."

"That's not true," Killian scoffed. "I haven't dated you."

"Thank Heavens for that," David commented.

"Can we focus on the problem at hand? Where the hell are we going to find a family that will suit our needs?"

David suggested, "Craigslist?"

"We call acting companies," Regina replied, already taking out her phone and, knowing her as he did, started looking up nearby acting organizations. "I'm sure for the right price, anyone will pretend to be married to you for two days."

"Hey!" Killian shouted, feeling the slightest bit insulted.

"Wait, I think..." David started to say, his eyes wide in thought. But just as quickly, he shut his eyes and quickly shook his head. "Nah. Never mind."

"What mate?"

"Well, it's just...I actually know a single mom with a young boy. And she could really use the cash."

Killian looked at David like he was an angel from up above. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Completely. She's a single mom living in an apartment that is basically the size of your living room. I think she's trying to save money for something bigger, so you would totally be helping her out."

Killian scratched the back of his neck as he looked at Regina. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "No harm in asking. It would work perfectly in all honestly." She looked over at David. "This woman is trustworthy?"

"Emma? Oh, completely," he replied without a bit of hesitation.

"What about her son? How old is he?"

David thought about it for a moment before replying, "I believe eight, and he's got a wonderful imagination. He'll have no trouble selling the family part, I promise."

Killian still looked unsure. "I don't like this. Faking a family for a business deal?"

Regina took him by the shoulders as she whispered, "Killian Jones. This is not just a business deal. This business deal could help our company go global, if we sell to London. Who knows, Paris could be next, then Germany, you don't know! But this is the deal that you worked day and night for."

"The one that she was willing to lie for, to make you look better," David added. Regina gave him a look with a raised eyebrow.

Killian shrugged off Regina's hands as he said, "I know, I know. I just...I don't like the idea of being dishonest."

"I know it's not ideal, mate, but it's a hell of a deal."

“Do you think she would go for it,” Killian asked David. “This…Emily?”

“Emma. And…honestly…I don’t know. She’s the only person I’ve ever met who is more stubborn than you are. But I can ask.”

Killian took a deep breath before replying, “My fate lies in your hands.”

[adenei]

Always A Bridesmaid, Never a Bride - Ch. 2

so much for only posting one chapter a week...oh well. You’re welcome for those of you who are into this!

AO3 || FFN

---RON---

“Ron, hey! Have a good weekend?” Neville Longbottom approached me as I walked into my office at The Telegraph.

“Hey, Nev. Yeah, I guess. You?”

“It was great! You missed out on Saturday night. The film festival was spectacular!”

“Yeah, well, in case you’ve forgotten, I work Saturday nights. I call it the curse of the commitments.”

I knew Neville meant well and he was a good friend, but he seemed to forget that I’m stuck in this hell hole having to attend weddings and then portray them as these beautiful, fairy tale level events. This was not what I anticipated my writing career to look like, yet here I was.

“Right. Sorry. It must be a truly despicable life. Dining on free food and red velvet cake. Was it a good wedding, at least? Find anyone to shack up with?” Neville asked.

I almost snorted out the sip of coffee I’d just taken. Nevile knew that I wasn’t on the pull, right? Let alone looking for someone to move in with. “Hardly. How many times do I have to tell you, one night stands and weddings are not a good mix, no matter how many people say otherwise.”

“But there has to be single bridesmaids looking for a fun night with no commitments,” Neville pressed.

“Maybe there are, but I’m not going for it. It’s not worth it.” I waved Neville off as I set my stuff at my desk and made my way over to my boss’s office. 

I’d been waiting the rest of the weekend to unveil my brilliant story idea. I was convinced this would finally promote me out of the commitments section. Not bothering to knock, I strode in and dropped the overflowing Filofax on my editor’s desk.

“This better be important, Weasley,” Rita Skeeter said.

“Er, yeah. I’ve got a story idea I wanted to run by you,” I said. All the confidence I was feeling before somehow disappeared as soon as I stepped into her office.

Rita kept on working as she said, “We’ve been through this before. I hired you to write wedding announcements, not investigative pieces.” I could tell she was not in the mood, but I’d given this far too much thought to give up.

“All I'm asking for is a chance to prove to you that I can offer my writing skills to other sections of the paper—”

“If this is another story proposition about exposing some minute detail of how the wedding industry is ripping people off, you can walk right out of this office. I don’t have any interest in hearing it.”

“But those were meaningful stories! People deserve to know that bakeries are overcharging for cakes. You could ask for an elaborate birthday cake design and the price would be significantly less because it’s not for a wedding! They’re conning innocent people just because they’re in love!”

“Readers don’t want stories on the price gouging, Ron! They want happy, feel good stories that give them hope, and you do that quite well. Your articles make most of our money, and I’d be insane to switch you to a different section!” Rita said with a tone of finality.

“Just hear me out. Please? I promise this is a good one.” I opened the Filofax. “This girl’s been in seven weddings—”

“So?” Rita responded. She sounded unimpressed.

“—This year. She was in two this past weekend alone. On the same night! There’s a story here, and I can sense it. She’s like a perpetual bridesmaid. There has to be a reason for it. She doesn’t strike me as the type that has that many friends.”

Rita finally looked up at me. I couldn’t read what she was thinking, but I was mentally preparing to be shot down again. Not this time, though. I needed to fight back for this one. It might be the only way I can get close to Hermione again.

“Fine.”

“Seriously, Rita I can make this—wait, what?”

“I said, ‘fine.’ I’m giving you a chance. Two weeks to find something out of this, and we’ll see what happens.”

“Four,” I said. Two was nowhere near enough time.

“Three, and that’s it.”

“Okay. And if you like it, I move out of commitments for good,” I said firmly.

“Ron—”

“I’m serious. I’ll quit. I can’t spend the rest of my career finding creative ways to highlight baby’s breath and sugar roses.”

“Fine. But you won’t quit. I know you better than that.” Rita picked up the Filofax and handed it to me before ushering me out of her office. “Now, get that adorably cute face out of here before I change my mind.”

I flashed a grin at her. “You won’t be disappointed.”

If the indication from our conversation in the taxi told me anything, it was that I had my work cut out for me. I opened her Filofax and set to work. A plan was already formulating, and I was eager to set it in motion.

This was my chance. My ticket out. Now, I just had to get close to the woman who drove me insane two nights ago. The woman I was unable to get out of my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was just because of the bridesmaid thing, I kept telling myself. That was it. 

---- HERMIONE ----

Monday rolled around far too quickly, but I was okay with it. Harry was coming back from a conference after being out of the office last week. I made sure things ran smoothly while he was gone since that was my job. You could call me his assistant, but I was also second in command of the company he’d started from scratch: Second Chance Publishers. 

Harry Potter was the ultimate entrepreneur, and I was lucky to work for him. He was everything you could wish for in a boss. Kind and understanding, yet firm and determined in his vision. He was always one who wanted to help the underdog, hence the company’s name. We read author’s manuscripts that had been tossed aside from leading publishing agencies, and gave the promising ones a chance. It’d been eight years and the company was still going strong.

Harry had taken a chance when he hired me fresh out of university, and I like to think I’ve proved indispensable since then. I was incredibly lucky to work in a position where my opinion mattered and I felt needed, like I belonged. Not to mention my boss was unequivocally sexy, and somehow still single.

Single was a good thing. That meant I may still have a chance. He had to notice me eventually, right? Okay, yes, I’ll admit it; I fancy my boss, but it’s innocent! I swear.

I needed to stop thinking about him. The anticipatory butterflies were already fluttering in my stomach, and I needed to get them under control. Coffee in hand, I walked the remainder of the two blocks to the office, and met Lavender on her way in.

“Never made it home this weekend, I see,” I said with a smile as I handed her coffee over. I was totally judging her and she knew it. I was never one to engage in one night stands and she knew it.

Lavender gave me a smug smile and ignored my question. “Maybe. Not that I could find you to stop me. What happened to you the other night? You were hardly there and then you left with that guy. Did you get lucky?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. You’re holding out for Mr. Right,” Lavender scoffed.

I ignored her comment as we meandered through the main doors into the office. Luna Lovegood, the receptionist, was sitting at the front desk. “Morning, Luna!”

“Hi!” she said brightly.

“Question for you: have you seen my Filofax around anywhere by chance?”

“No,” she answered simply.

“Oh, okay then. It’s probably in my office. No problem. I’ll keep looking. Did you happen to send out the order I left on your desk Friday afternoon for the manufacturer?”

She looked nonplussed. “No.”

“Alright. No big deal, I’ll take care of it,” I said as we continued on down the hall.

“Wow, Hermione, you really told her,” Lavender said.

I sighed. “It’s fine, Lav, I should have done it myself anyway..”

“But you’re the boss, you’re allowed to tell people what to do.”

“I’m not the boss, and you know that. I’m the boss’s assistant. There’s a difference.”

“Correction, there would be a difference if the boss didn’t rely on you so much as well.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I just like my job.”

“Or maybe, it’s not the job you like, but the boss,” she raised her eyes knowingly at me.

 “Get to accounting, Lavender,” I told her, since I wasn’t willing to admit that she was right.

“Oh, sure, now you get bossy,” she said as she meandered off.

I chuckled to myself as I walked into my office and got settled for the day. My first point of business was to find my Filofax. That held my life. Every appointment and event was written in there. Not to mention all my cut outs of details I loved and wanted to incorporate for my own dream wedding. I searched high and low and it was absolutely nowhere to be found.

Giving up, I turned to my computer and attempted to get some work done. My productivity didn’t last very long, though. I looked up a half hour later to see a flower delivery at the front desk. Did Luna just point to me? My heart beat a little faster in my chest. I think she did. The man was walking towards me and stopped just outside my office. 

“Hermione Granger?” he asked.

“That’s me,” I said in a hushed voice.

“These are for you,” he said as he handed them to me and turned to leave.

I was dumbstruck. I never received flowers, let alone at work! Setting them on my desk, I began searching for the note card that should have accompanied the beautiful bouquet, but nothing was there to reveal the mystery sender.

“Oh, sure, I spend all weekend in bed with a guy and you’re the one who’s sent flowers!”* Lavender sounded annoyed as she strolled into my office. “Who are they from?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t say.” My voice still sounded shocked.

When I turned to look at Lav, I watched as her face went from annoyed, to understanding, and then it finally settled on pity. “Hermione, no, you can’t possibly think it’s from him.”

“Well, who else could it be?” I asked indignantly.

“I don’t know, but you’ve got to stop this! You’re in love with a man who doesn’t even know you exist.”

“I am not in love with him,” I lied. “And he does too know I exist.”

“Yeah, in a ‘she’s my assistant’ kind of way, not in a ‘she’s so sexy I want to rip her clothes off and have mind blowing sex with her’ way.”*

“You don’t know that,” I said weakly.

“I do too know that! Honestly, at least get it under control, will you? The whole office knows,” Lavender argued.

“They do not!” I said incredulously.

Luna, who was passing by my door at that exact moment, must have heard Lavender and chimed in. “Yes, we do.” She smiled at both of us and kept right going before I could stop her.

“See?” Lavender pressed. “I’m telling you—” she was cut off by a dog barking, which could only mean one thing.

“Pads!” I cried as the large black dog darted towards me.

“Hey, Padfoot, easy there. Hermione doesn’t want a face full of slobber this morning,” came Harry’s sultry, baritone voice.

“No, no, it’s okay!” I said quickly as I stood back up. “Hi. How was the conference?”

“Brilliant! If things went as well as I hope they did, we may be expanding into the American and Canadian markets.”

“That’s wonderful!” I noticed Lavender pretend to gag from over Harry’s shoulder. 

“How are things here? Have we met our quota for the end of the month?” Harry immediately began business talk. I liked a boss who was no nonsense and wanted to make sure things stayed on track.

“Almost. There’s a few manuscripts to get through, and we’re waiting on approval from Hopkirk on the illustrations. If we can get that soon, the art department can move forward, and we should have the new publication out by the middle of next month.

“Great. I’ll make a point to call her personally to see if we can get the process moving more quickly.”

I nodded. “Just so you know, you’ve got an 11:00 meeting with marketing. Oh, and the Boys and Girls Club has an event coming up that they’d like you to speak at. Nothing too intensive, just a few words on the impact that reading has had on their kids, and how you’ve seen the program grow since you’ve become involved. But it will be a formal affair,” I added.

“Ah, so I suppose that means I’ll need to bring a date,” Harry acknowledged.

“Yes, probably,” I said with a small smile. I was trying to hide the hope that he might ask me. It was a work event. Sort of…

“Well, I guess that’s one aspect of my life that I shouldn’t need your help with, right?” he said with a chuckle.

“Er, yeah, right,” I said regretfully.  

I watched as he turned and left my office. Lavender looked like she wanted to say something. “Don’t even start.”

“Fine. Hey, what are you doing before Luna’s sten party tonight? I’m meeting some friends for pre-drinks. You could use the distraction!”

I laughed at her brazenness. “My neighbor is coming back into town. I promised I’d pick her up at the train station

 and we’d grab a bite before the party.” I lowered my voice for what I was about to say next. “Who schedules a sten party on a Monday anyways?”

“Are you just starting to question Luna’s decisions now? And is that the neighbor you’ve been friends with since you moved in, but know nothing about? The one who disappears for months on end?”

“Yeah, Jenny. But she’s really nice, and fun to hang out with when she’s in town. There’s only so much I can take of you,” I joked.

“You wouldn’t know what to do without me,” Lavender scoffed.

Just then, Harry popped his head back in my office. “Hey, Hermione, did you leave the coffee on my desk?”

“What? Oh, yes. It was nothing. I, er—I figured you might want it,” I said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Thanks! You were right, just like always,” he smiled and I thought my legs were turning to jelly. “That’s why I love ya,” he added as he disappeared from my doorway.*

I was awestruck. “I love you, too,” I said quietly under my breath as I watched him walk away*. 

Slap! Lavender smacked me hard across the face. “Get it together!” she snapped.

I shook my head as I cleared my head from the haze. “Y-yeah. Yup. Thanks. I needed that.”

Lavender had no words for me. I always appreciated her realistic view on things, even if it was a bit crass. The fact that she was speechless over what had just happened was like someone dumping ice water down my back, and the cold realization creeped through my veins. I had it bad for my boss, and I was stuck.

~o~

I was right on time when I arrived at the train station to pick up Jenny. She’d been away for six months, which was longer than normal, but I was excited that she was coming home for a while. I loved Lavender and her friendship, but sometimes she was a bit much. Jenny was way more relaxed, and didn’t press me as much about my personal life. Soon enough I saw her flaming red hair in the crowd. I waved and it didn’t take long for her to spot me. 

“Hermione!” I heard her cry as she made her way over to me. She wrapped me in a hug. “It’s so good to see you! I’m sorry you had to pick me up. My brother bailed on me last minute.”

“Ah, yes, this mysterious brother you insist exists, yet I’ve never met in our five years of sharing the same building,” I joked. “Come on, I’ve already called for takeaway.”

“Brilliant! I’m starved. Fish and chips, I hope? I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had a good English classic,” she said eagerly.

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Jenny threw her arm around my shoulder as I took one of her bags and we made our way to the taxis. The ride took a bit longer than usual since it was rush hour, but our takeaway was still warm by the time we got to the flat. Jenny dropped her bags off in her flat next door to mine, and then met me a few minutes later.

“Finally! I was drooling in the taxi,” she said. 

“So, how were your travels this time around?” I asked between bites.

“Eh, same old, same old. It’s a rough schedule being on the job for six months and then off, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“You’re an athletic trainer for one of the female football teams, right?” I attempted to verify. 

“Something like that, yeah. It’s hard to believe I’ve finished my sixth season already.”

I nodded, storing that information in the file I had in my brain for her. I’d learned a good deal about Jenny over the past few years, even if it was nothing terribly close to her personal life. I knew she wasn’t overly fond of animals, hated cleaning, and could drink anyone into the ground and be completely fine the next day. She was strikingly beautiful with chocolate brown eyes that possessed a hardness to them when she showed the world her ‘no nonsense’ attitude. I was sure she had no trouble finding men even with her crazy work schedule getting in the way.

“Soooo,” Jenny said, interrupting my thoughts. “What’s been going on with you? Have you met a man yet?”

Maybe I’d spoken too soon when I said I appreciated her friendship more than Lav’s. “No, still single, but I received flowers from some anonymous person at work today,” I mentioned with a chuckle.

“Oh? Tell me more!”

“It was nothing, really. Just a delivery with no note. I have an idea who may have sent them, but they never came forward.”

“Do you think it’s from your mysterious workplace crush? Have they finally noticed what they’ve been missing out on?”

“One can only hope,” I said as I shrugged. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Probably dumping the contents of my luggage on the floor of my bedroom and crashing, if I’m being honest. Why? Do you have anything planned?”

“Luna, the receptionist at work is having her sten party at XOXO,” I told her. “You’re more than welcome to join if you’d like. Meet new people, reacquaint yourself with London’s nightlife…”

“At an Indie bar? We’ll see how I’m feeling after this food digests. I’m way too full to think about going anywhere,” she said. 

“Well, the offer stands if you decide you want to meet me there later on, though I don’t blame you for wanting to make a date with your sofa instead.”

We got up and took care of the containers. As Jenny was getting ready to leave, I saw her pause by the counter. “What are these?” she asked as she picked up several newspaper clippings.

“Nothing!” I said quickly, snatching them out of her hand.

“Do you really save wedding announcements?” Jenny asked me.

“Not all of them! Just the ones written by Billy Weston. He’s the best!” I insisted.

Jenny was looking at me quizzically before she headed for the door. “Well, you do you, I guess. Thanks for picking me up again! And for dinner. I owe you one.”

“No problem! It’s good to have you back.” Jenny flashed me a smile before she left. 

I hoped that maybe someday she’d trust me enough to let me in on the parts of her life she kept locked up tight. The least I could do in the meantime was be a good friend. For now, I needed to get ready for the sten party.

~o~

Lavender and I were walking away from the bar in the club when I heard someone say Harry’s name. He was here! I turned in time to see him making his way over to us. 

“You got them annual passes to the London Zoo and Aquarium,” I said, noticing the worried look on his face.

“Great! Thanks, Hermione. Any chance she’ll believe it’s from me?” Harry asked.

“Maybe. You do an okay job of getting to know your employees, so I’d say there’s a fifty-fifty shot,” I quipped.

He gave a look of approval. “Excellent. I’m going to head to the bar and get a drink. Do you guys need anything?”

I chuckled as I said, “No, thanks. I’m set.” I held up my own drink as Lavender also shook her head no.

Harry nodded and walked away as Lavender looked at me incredulously. “Are you kidding me?” she shot me a look.

“What?”

“When a guy asks to buy you a drink, you always say yes! Even if you already have one. If you ask for a sex on the beach, it’s a subtle hint to indicate what you’re hoping for later.” 

I shook my head. “Honestly, Lav, do you ever not have sex on your mind?”

“What’s wrong with that? It might finally get you what you’re hoping for. He buys you a drink, you talk about something other than work, he sees you more than just his assistant and voila! Happily ever after!” She lifted her drink in a cheers motion.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her ridiculous statement. “We already do talk about things other than work. I’m not going to rush him into anything.’

Lavender rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“No, I’m responsible.”

“What guy wants responsible?” Lavender was clearly getting flustered now.

“Harry! He loves my responsibility and appreciates me for who I am,” I insisted.

“Well, yeah, but he might appreciate you more if he knew what you wanted,” Lavender said just before clamping her mouth down on her straw and taking a big swig of her drink.

I gave her a look as Harry made his way back over to us. “Hey, Hermione, I hope that thing I left on your desk this morning was okay…” he said quietly.

“That...thing?” I said breathlessly, immediately thinking of the flowers.

“Yeah. I mean, I know it’s kind of a new level for us and I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”

‘Y-yeah! Yes! Totally fine with it! Definitely,” I said as a grin broke out on my face.

“Great. Er, thanks,” Harry said as he nodded to me and took off to mingle.

I turned to Lavender. “It was him. He sent me the flowers. Oh my God! Lavender, he sent me the flowers!”

“Holy shit, he really did!” I could tell by the shocked look on her face she couldn’t believe it either. “What are you waiting for?!” she asked.

“W-what?” I asked, confused.

“What are you waiting for? Go over there and tell him how you feel! He made the first move with the flowers! It’s now or never! Go declare your love! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s your fairy tale moment.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Go. Yes, I’ll go,” I said awkwardly.

Lavender pushed me in his direction and I began walking slowly his way. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for years to come face to face with! My heart was beating faster with each step.

I was only a few paces away when I saw him notice something. I followed his gaze across the dance floor and saw Jenny looking around, probably for me. I was used to seeing her dressed down in a pair of jeans or sweats, but she was actually done up nicely. Her makeup was done, and her straight red hair fell over her shoulders. She was wearing a shimmery emerald green dress that showed off a bit more than I would have ever expected from her. 

I saw her notice Harry, giving him a small smile. I should have stopped and turned around when they were clearly making their way toward each other, but I couldn’t stop my feet. They just kept propelling me forward. Ironically, I met up with them just as they stopped in front of each other.

Jenny noticed me out of the corner of her eye and muttered, “Hermione.”

“Oh, er, right. Harry, this is my friend Jenny, Jenny this is my Harry—no! I mean, this is my boss, Harry,” I clarified. How humiliating!*

“Yeah, Hermione’s the best assistant anyone could possibly have. Half the time she knows what I need even before I do, and she’s always willing to help,” he said nervously. Since when did Harry get nervous? “Just this morning I left Padfoot’s groomer appointment slip on her desk. It was last minute and I had a meeting, so I asked Hermione to drop him off for me.”

I felt like I’d been sucker punched in the gut. The flowers weren’t from him after all. How stupid was I to get my hopes up? 

“Ah, Pads’ appointment. Right,” I tried to say as lightly as I could. 

“Well, a clean dog is rather important,” Jenny agreed in a sweet voice.

“Would you like to get a drink?” Harry asked. He only had eyes for her.

“Well, I came to get a drink with my friend, but I couldn’t possibly say no,” Jenny giggled. Since when was Jenny a giggler?

My worst nightmare was coming true. Harry was clearly smitten with my neighbor. This wouldn’t be happening if I’d never invited her to come along, and now I’m watching them get a drink together. 

Before I could turn and leave, there was a tap on my shoulder. It was Ron. “What are you doing here?” I asked. I was totally shocked to run into him again.

“Fancy meeting you here! Did you like the flowers?” he asked me.

“What? Those were from you?” I asked. My voice definitely sounded rude.

He nodded with the lopsided grin flashing across his face. “Er, yeah. Did you like them?”

“Oh great, the marriage hating cynic left me romantic mystery flowers this morning. How ironic!” Could this day get any worse?

“Yeah, I guess you could put it that way. Oh, also, I have something for you.” He paused, and I watched him dig around in his satchel. “Here you go!”

It was my Filofax. “Oh, thank God! You found it!”

“Yeah, it was in the back of the cab. You should be more careful where you leave stuff like this. It was either I meet you here tonight or Thursday at your dad’s birthday party.” He laughed like it was a joke, but I was deeply offended and creeped out.

“You read it?”

He shrugged. “I tried to. I didn’t know anyone could fill up every possible centimeter on the page,” he joked again. 

I didn’t find it funny, and what made matters worse was I now saw Harry leaning in and whispering into Jenny’s ear. She was smiling and flirting and it felt like my life was falling apart.

 “Hey, Ron, could you hold this for a sec?” I asked as I shoved my drink in his hand.

He never got a chance to respond as I made my way to the nearest exit to get some air. Luckily the club was loud enough so no one inside could hear the scream of fury that was escaping my lips. I wasn’t proud of the vulgar language I let out, but tonight called for it. I stopped abruptly when I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up and realized the door I’d left didn’t actually lead outside, but to another room where a child’s birthday party was taking place. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t—5 years old, wow. Congratulations!” 

I knew my face was red as I swiftly turned around and made my way back into the club. I reluctantly walked back over to Ron. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” he said, handing my drink back to me. “Do you want to get a drink?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t know…” I said. I suddenly wasn’t in the mood. 

“Come on, it’s just one drink,” he said. “Let me prove to you I’m not some creep.”

“It’s not that. I just—I won’t be any fun tonight,” I admitted.

“Oh, er, alright then. Well, maybe I’ll see you around? Thursday?” he joked again. 

I glared at him. “Goodnight, Ron.”

He gave me an awkward wave as he turned to leave. Lavender had suddenly appeared behind me. “Ooooh, who was he and where can I get one?”*

“He’s no one, Lav,” I said. I wasn’t in the mood anymore, and I just wanted to go home.

“What happened?” She asked, concerned.

“It’s a long story. I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

I found myself walking over to the bar, approaching Harry and Jenny in a last ditch effort before giving up. “Hey,” I said to them. “Jenny, you must be tired from all that traveling today. Do you want to share a taxi?”

“What? Oh, no Hermione, I’m fine,” she said dismissively. “Harry, do you want to go somewhere more quiet?”

“Sure, I know a place a few blocks from here.”

“What? No—Jenny, it’s getting—” I tried to interject, but nothing could break their attention from each other.

“Brilliant! I hardly ever explore this side of town,” Jenny said to him.

“Do you want to join, Hermione?” Harry asked.

I looked between Harry and Jenny, and she was giving me a frown and a slight shake of her head, willing me to say no. Of course, I couldn’t let her down, so I said, “Oh, no. You two go. I need to get back.” That was it. My chance was officially blown.

“Maybe next time,” Jenny said convincingly. “Let’s get coffee in the morning, yeah? I’ll text you!”

I nodded weakly as I watched them get up and head for the door. Jenny turned around mouthed ‘Thank you! You’re the best,’ before taking the arm Harry held out for her. My heart felt like it was shattering to pieces.

I caught a taxi and made my way home, resisting the urge to cry. There was no way I was going to sleep tonight. I tried to do a few things to tire myself out, like clean the kitchen and doing a home workout, but I found myself obsessively checking the peep hole in my door, and listening intently to hear whether Jenny had come home and whether or not Harry had joined her. 

Just the mere thought sent needles through my heart. At around two in the morning, I gave up and forced myself to go to bed. It was everything I could do to avoid getting up. Eventually, after a lot of tossing and turning, I managed to fall asleep.

[our-kendrick]

Anna Kendrick Puts Her Characters, Her Career—and Herself—Under the Microscope

The actor turns inward to reflect. But don’t worry, she’s laughing along the way.

© Casey Mink

Read here, or below. 

Anna Kendrick has an idea. “Every character should do a scene with her mother at the beginning of a shoot,” she suggests. Her theory is that this type of interior work could function as a sort of controlled breakthrough in therapy—but instead of your own lifetime’s worth of baggage, it’s your character’s.

The notion occurred to her during production on her new HBO Max series Love Life (debuting May 27), on which Hope Davis portrays her mom. “I learned so much about my character during that episode; you go back to your own childhood stuff,” she says. And though she hadn’t previously considered it in such explicit terms, to hear Kendrick talk about her acting is to realize she’s actually been putting her roles under the proverbial microscope for years.

“Why does that person behave that way? Why do some people see the world in a different way?” she muses, chatting by telephone from her home in Los Angeles, where she’s been quarantining since mid-March. “And that’s the kind of driving curiosity that, hopefully, makes me effective at my job.”

Of course, having been acting professionally since adolescence, Kendrick knows that what initially lured her to the trade was a good deal less existential. “It would be really insane for me to suggest that finding truth in a person’s psychology interested me at that age,” she says, with just a little bite. “It was more that I knew plays like Annie and Gypsy meant that I could get on a stage and wear a costume, and people had to pay attention to me. My goals were more streamlined: I wanted to sing really loud and be onstage.”

Streamlined, indeed. Kendrick starred in the 1998 Broadway premiere of High Society, for which she earned a Tony nomination at the ripe age of 12, making her one of the youngest performers in history to earn the distinction. Not long after, as it so often does, Los Angeles came knocking. And, as it so often does, it quickly proved less glamorous than advertised.

“I don’t really know what to say about it other than it sucked. It was hard,” Kendrick says of her early days navigating the “business” side of the business. “Every now and then, I’m walking around in L.A. and I notice some back alley, weird entrance, and remember I used to go around to that entrance because they didn’t want you coming in the front entrance if you were there to audition. It’s a very degrading process to be holding your sides and have some bored receptionist say, ‘Can you use this back entrance?’ And then, obviously, the image of walking into a room and there are 20 girls who look exactly like you.”

Though she hardly recalls the period with rose-hued fondness, it was a necessary steppingstone to becoming the Anna Kendrick we know today, the singular one who is known as much for her turns onscreen as her quips on Twitter. (She even wrote a book of nonfiction essays, Scrappy Little Nobody, that went on to become a New York Times best-seller.) As it happens, learning to unleash the persona inside the person—to embrace rather than smother whatever nonconformity exists within—was a critical turning point in her approach to both acting and auditioning; one which, believe it or not, came courtesy of a certain vampire franchise.

“I remember auditioning for the family in Twilight and running into a friend of mine and both of us being like, ‘Why are we here?’ ” Kendrick recalls. “ ‘[The role] is the bitchy mean girl, they’re going to hire some leggy blonde, because that’s the part.’ I thought, OK, I’ll just go in and do something dumb, because I’m not going to get the job anyway. Hopefully, the casting director will remember me as being funny, and they’ll bring me back in for something else. It’s such a hideous cliché, but I just had to realize the only times I got a job were when there was something I could do that nobody else could do.”

To again lift that turn of phrase right off the therapist’s couch, it wasn’t just a career breakthrough, but a psychological one. That isn’t to say it suddenly unlocked the secret to enduring Hollywood success, but it did help secure the actor’s first Oscar nomination.

The story—well-documented in the history book of Kendrick’s life by now—goes that the writer-director Jason Reitman already had her in mind when she came in to audition for his new feature Up in the Air. The role was a co-lead opposite George Clooney. She got it, obviously, but as the greener of the two actors, how did she step on set and believe, I have a right to be here?

“Um, I didn’t,” she says with a terse laugh. “George was such an angel, and would say things like, ‘Are you nervous? Got to get nervous for your first day’—and that is complete bullshit. He absolutely does not [get nervous], but I believed it at the time, and that’s what I needed to hear: that I had permission to be nervous. Because it’s one thing to be nervous, and it’s another to be pretending you’re not.”

Now, Kendrick is herself a formidable leading lady, having starred most notably in all three Pitch Perfect movies; the series has to date made more than $500 million worldwide and solidified Kendrick as a capital-N Name. In a position quite different from the one she was in about a decade ago, today she tries to practice the same on-set empathy that has been shown to her.

“No, I’m an absolute monster,” she says with just a split-second pause before answering in earnest. “I mean, you try to adjust to your various co-workers. Obviously, there are people who you realize really thrive when it feels spontaneous, and it would be better if we weren’t word-perfect. And then, for other people, it’s those early takes that are really magical and you want to make sure it’s as on-book as it can be.” As for her ideal scene partner, when given a preference, Kendrick does have one in mind.

[theletterunread]

May Day, May Day, May Day

Last May, the world continued to fall apart, as it's been doing for many years – though at a noticeably accelerated pace. The coronavirus dictated everyone's life and kept me mostly in my apartment in Franklin Village, living a life that was just like my normal life, only moreso. I played video games (but for more hours at a time), watched movies (but more than usual), and read books (but longer books, like Ulysses and the last Karl Ove Knausgaard novel, that were too heavy to have carried around and read while commuting). I did a lot of new writing and got a few rejections for some old writing. Just as I had seven years earlier, I began to wish I had a piano – as my apartment’s previous tenant, singer-songwriter Rebecca Black, did – so I could pass my downtime creating something nice.

The May before that, my writing partner and I submitted writing samples through the WGA Staffing System in the hopes of being hired to write for a sitcom. This job board had been set up by the Writer’s Guild to help writers find work without the assistance of their agents, whom the WGA had instructed its members to fire following a dispute with the Association of Talent Agents. My writing partner and I were skeptical that anybody (least of all us) would be hired through this system – we figured staffing decisions would still be determined by Hollywood’s impenetrable cliquishness – but we knew there was nothing to be lost by giving it a try.

On a Thursday, we submitted applications to three shows. Two of them were cancelled by Saturday – almost as if our applications reminded the producers that they still had dead shows to clear out – and we never heard back from the third.

The May before that, a paralegal left the law firm I work at in Downtown LA because he’d found a job closer to his home in Long Beach. My boss took him out to lunch, after which he returned to the office to say his goodbyes. He thanked me for teaching him some filing skills, but I had trouble accepting the gratitude. Even after six years, I still felt like a pretender in the legal world, skeptical that I knew anything teachable.

Later that afternoon, my boss informed the rest of us that, at lunch, the paralegal had asked him, “Do you wanna smoke some weed?” My boss had declined, noting that it was noon on a Wednesday. Our receptionist said that he had recently made the same offer to her. But an associate attorney and I had never been offered the same opportunity even once in the six months we worked with him.

The May before that, my pianist friend passed through LA and we met for lunch in Westwood. He was the first peer whose hair I noticed was going grey. Mine had been turning for a few years already. Good for both of us.

When I returned home, I played The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, an acclaimed game which shares a lot of its DNA with one predecessor in particular: The Wind Waker. I was happy to see that game’s achievements respected by this new installment in the series because I still felt the exact same protectiveness of and identification with The Wind Waker that I had 14 years earlier, no matter that I was getting old and grey.

The May before that, I received a rejection letter from a literary magazine for a short story that I had submitted for publication 14 months earlier. I also received a rejection from a literary agent for a novel I’d written. Neither one upset me too much: the short story because I’d completely forgotten it was out in the world; the novel because the agent sent me back thoughtful notes, and I was touched that anyone would even take the time to read 75,000 words I’d written. Plus, it was easy to brush off literary set-backs. I had just had made my first business trip to Hollywood, and I was confident I’d soon be working as a sitcom writer.

The May before that, I got a sharp pain in my back anytime I breathed in deeply. The internet said it was probably a strain in one of my intercostal muscles, but couldn’t rule out pneumonia or something scarier. Not wanting a repeat of seven years earlier, when I’d ignored ankle pain and wound up in surgery, I visited a doctor. She diagnosed it as a strained intercostal muscle and wrote me a prescription for anti-inflammatories, which I never picked up.

Three days later, my friends and I were sharing interesting quotations over email (Tuesdays we shared poetry, Wednesdays paintings, and Thursdays quotations). The last contribution was from H.P. Lovecraft: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

The May before that, my roommates and I threw a party in our apartment. We invited 47 people and just about 47 people showed up. We had a great time until my landlord called me downstairs to show me that our front gate had been broken by one of our guests while departing. I esteemed my landlord so highly that there was little in life I hated more than disappointing him.

By the next morning, my roommates and I had determined who the culprit was, but we weren’t sure whether to ask him to pay up. While we weighed our options, I went to McCarren Park to attend a picnic hosted by a friend of mine from high school. I didn’t know any of the other guests, but I asked them whether, in my situation, they would reach out to the vandal and ask him to pay. They all said it was a tough call.

Ultimately, my roommates and I paid for the gate ourselves, swallowing the repair charge as the cost of hosting guests. As one of my roommates used to say when shrugging off his post-party hangovers, “You gotta pay the piper.”

The May before that, I wanted to resume playing the piano, so I made arrangements to buy an electric keyboard from a man who lived on the Upper East Side. I reached out to my only friend with a car – the same woman to whom I’d lost my virginity four years before – and asked if she would help me haul the equipment back to Bed-Stuy. She agreed on the condition that I would go with her to Rockaway Beach afterwards. Though the beach is my least favorite of all leisure destinations, I said sure and told her where to meet me.

She showed up to the Upper East Side without a car and without any understanding that I had expected her to bring a car. I had forgotten to ask for that, but it wouldn’t have made a difference: she hadn’t been vehicled for two years. I asked why she thought I would request her help with this chore, if not for her ability to bring a car. She asked why I hadn’t mentioned the car in my request, why I assumed she had one even though I had only seen her drive once, two years earlier, and where my gratitude was for her being willing to come out in 90-degree weather to help with such a tedious chore. Her rhetorical questions were better. We lugged the keyboard, its stand, its pedal, and a bunch of cords back to Brooklyn over two subway transfers and then went to the beach, where the temperature was about 40 degrees lower.

Even though the keyboard’s quality was affirmed by my (imminently greying) pianist friend when he came over for one of our parties, it didn’t scratch my itch the way a real piano would have. I kept it for three years until the speakers stopped working.

The May before that, I began working at a law firm in Midtown. I didn’t know how I landed the position, a phenomenon that’s repeated in every job I’ve got – or not got. Despite my supposed knowledge of film and TV, I’ve been turned down for writing jobs and even to work for Blockbuster. But I was hired to work at a venerable firm while knowing absolutely nothing about the law.

Between that respectable job and the largesse of my landlord, letting me live in Shangri-La for $600 per month, I spent my early-to-mid-twenties building unusual financial stability. I didn’t recognize it, though, and those were the years I was most worried about money. In the years before and since, financial anxiety was nothing; my worries were (are) about writing. And tidily, in that middle period, the creative side of life caused no concern.

The May before that, I graduated from NYU. More than any catastrophe I’ve lived through, that event created an atmosphere of the End of Days. Feelings of wistfulness and anxiety about casting off into the unknown were underscored by Collapse Into Now, the new R.E.M. album I was listening to repeatedly. It is a poignant record (though it wouldn’t be identified as such for another four months, it was secretly R.E.M.’s farewell album) but I was in an emotional state to be moved by any music. I couldn’t even join in the culture-wide mocking of Rebecca Black’s “Friday” that was going on; I found her earnestness unbearably touching.

At the end of the month, I moved into my new place in Bed-Stuy. My roommates and I had flipped for the apartment as soon as we saw it, not just because its competition wasn’t fierce – other prospective apartments had rat poison on the floor or 18-inch-high ceilings – but because it was spacious and cheap and distinctive, and because we liked the landlord. (And it went both ways: he told us that he had declined other possible tenants while waiting for our decision because, “I took a shine to you guys.”) And even though it was still a little strange to be sleeping and eating and showering in a new place, and even though a couple of teenagers had shouted at me while I was moving in – using what federal judges now call “racially charged language” – and even though I still had no idea how to shape a life outside of school, I felt better, because I was in My Home.

The May before that, I was finishing up a semester abroad in Ireland. At times during that spring, I compared myself to the freshman I’d been two and a half years earlier. I had been so naïve, so unworldly when I came to New York in 2007. Now, it was 2010 – a modern year, the dawn of a new decade – and I was 20 years old, living across the Atlantic. I had lived long enough to have a past, to have life behind me. I was a real person.

But if I ever had any specific examples of what made “Junior Year Me” more sophisticated than (or even different from) “Freshman Year Me,” I have completely forgotten them now. The two iterations are collapsed into one character in my mind. And when I see the numbers now, 20 as an age is much closer to the two decades before it than to the years that have come since, and 2010 looks like an absurdly miniscule year.

The May before that, I lost my virginity in a college dorm on 14th Street in Manhattan. It happened in the afternoon, after two failed attempts in prior evenings. The school year was winding down – when my girlfriend called to invite me over, I was packing up my dorm room, and when I arrived, her suitemate was in their common room, packing up her things – so there was no more room for error.

I recall looking at a digital clock, but I don’t recall what time it showed. Nor do I remember the weather, though I remember either being pleased that it was raining, or wishing that it were raining. For a redefining moment, it’s awfully hazy. The fog of war. I had to be reminded many, many years later that, after we finished, I offered a dirty joke that was extremely in and out of character: “I was packing boxes in my dorm, and then I came over here to pack boxes.”

Afterwards, I walked back to my dorm in the West Village. My friends and I had plans to watch a marathon of all of the videos we had filmed that year, and we did. It was several years before I told them where I had been earlier that day.

The May before that, I had an MRI on my ankle, which had been hurting for a year. After I left the hospital, I went to Blockbuster to interview for a summer job and absolutely bombed. I may have admitted that I only planned to keep the job until college resumed in September; I certainly volunteered that I knew nothing about high-traffic film genres like action or horror. When asked what movies I might recommend to customers, I offered artsy snoozers like Ed Wood.

Just as well that I was never offered a job, as the MRI showed that I had, “the ankle of a 70-year-old,” and arthroscopic surgery was scheduled. I spent the next two months first in a cast, then in a boot. I passed the summer making videos and uploading them to YouTube, thinking maybe I’d go viral, as I’d been hoping for two years. The most attention I got was from foot fetishists who liked when I showed my casted leg.

The May before that, my high school was shut down on what was supposed to have been my last real day of senior year. An AP Spanish Literature test and a band concert were scheduled for the day, after which I had no more obligations. But cafeteria workers coming in early in the morning spotted two masked men creeping through a hallway. The workers called the cops, the masked men fled, and the bomb squad was called in. School was closed for the day.

Had there been a bomb, this might be a disaster story known to lots of people of my generation. But there was no bomb, and it’s a story that even I forget most of the time. The general consensus was that the masked men were just students coming in early to set up some departing-senior stunt. They were never identified, though I was confident I knew who they were.

My test and my concert were rescheduled, so I had to keep going to school. The morning of the makeup AP exam, I told one of my classmates that I couldn’t help but wish we had been able to wrap up high school the week before, as anticipated. She cut me off and said, “You can’t even think about that.”

The May before that, YouTube penetrated mass consciousness. The notion of “going viral” was not known to us then, but it was still obvious how well the site could facilitate the spread of good work. I was certain that the videos my friends and I were making could be successful on there. We had so many funny ideas, it was inconceivable that not a single one of them would catch fire. Maybe not immediately, but it couldn’t take forever.

The May before that, Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith premiered. I disliked the previous movie, had forgotten the one before that, and was totally agnostic about the original trilogy, yet I convinced myself to be excited for this one: This is how a person interested in film should feel. My mom and I made plans to go as a treat after an afternoon laboring in the garden, and I invited a friend to come along.

My friend called back later in the day to ask if he could bring another kid from school to the movie. This other kid and I wound up growing closer in the last years of high school, but at the time, I still found him mean and unpredictable. I worried that he might laugh at me for still going to the movies with my mom, or worse, that he would act up in some distasteful way in front of her. My parents weren’t overly sensitive, but I was still haunted by a memory from a birthday party three years before: this kid seriously tasking my dad by telling an awful dirty joke. ("How do you circumcise a redneck?")

I lied to my friend and told him that the trip to the movies had been cancelled. Then I lied to my mom and told her that my friend had decided not to come. At the movie theater, I kept looking over my shoulder, worried that my friend might decide to come anyway (maybe even with the other kid), and I’d be caught. He didn’t, and the next day he asked if I still wanted to see the movie with him, so I watched Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith twice in two days.

The May before that, in Downtown LA (only a mile from the law firm where I’d be working 13 years later), Nintendo had a very successful presentation at the annual Electronic Entertainment Expo. At a time when its public reputation was shaky, Nintendo blew the roof off the Los Angeles Convention Center with a showcase of a new handheld, a new spokesman, and a new Legend of Zelda game. The previous entry, The Wind Waker, had drawn a lot of attention (mostly condemnation gradually giving way to praise) for its colorful, cel-shaded art style. This new game looked more subdued, realistic, and – in the parlance of the times – mature.

While I was excited by the new entry, I felt sad that it appeared to be such a blatant rejection of The Wind Waker, a game I had been defending against adolescent smears since before its release, a game I thought had proven itself to be a masterpiece. Yet here was Nintendo itself surrendering to the backlash and giving the haters exactly what they demanded. That wasn’t how the world was supposed to work, and I felt that I had been hung out to dry. These feelings were still with me more than a decade later when Breath of the Wild came along to close the circle.

The May before that, a blizzard hit Colorado. It was a spring snow, very wet and heavy, and it destroyed the plants that my mom had been adding to the yard since we moved in. She was in the house with my newborn brother, so my dad and I shoveled the walk. It was hard, slushy work, but I greatly preferred it to the lawn jobs and gardening I’d been doing over the preceding year. A private yard was supposedly one of the pleasures of living in a house rather than the apartments and condos we’d previously had, but it wasn’t worth the work that went into it. Visiting a public park or walking around the neighborhood was much more fun than sitting on your own boring lawn.

It wasn’t anything that would be relevant for eight years, and it wasn’t anything I was conscious of for longer than that, but I was developing a sense of what I dreamed would be My Home.

The May before that, my family was newly installed in our first house. Our old condo had been bought by a guy who ran an outdoor cinema over the summers, and he had given us three free passes. I went with two friends to see the second screening of the season, Airplane!

Before the show, one of my friends mentioned that he was going to be working that summer at his dad’s restaurant, and the other said he had been given a spot at his uncle’s factory (it made insulated water bottles). I felt left out, and wished that I could get work too. I wondered if there was a way I could leverage my knowing the man who ran the outdoor cinema into a job.

I remember that longing, yet I don’t remember how, two years later, I came to be working at the outdoor cinema. I have no record of who talked to whom and said what to get me that gig, the first of many positions I would get without knowing how. The job stayed on my resume until I went to work for the law firm in Midtown, but I’m not sure how useful it was. It wasn’t enough to get me in the fucking door at Blockbuster.

The May before that, R.E.M. released its 12th studio album, Reveal. I heard its lead single, “Imitation of Life,” while leaving the Albuquerque airport in a rented car, and was entranced. When we got back to Boulder, I asked my parents to buy a copy of the CD, beginning a fandom that hadn’t abated ten years later when I was listening to Collapse Into Now.

Four months after Reveal was released, the U.S was hit by the September 11th attacks, the first calamity of my life. I’ve never since looked at a copy of Reveal without thinking, “That was from the world before 9/11.” Directionless. And my ability to draw meaning from the eternal return has advanced no further.

[purplesurveys]

1051

Are you between the ages of 30 & 40? I still have to get through nearly another decade to get to that decade.

What was your favorite Saturday morning cartoon growing up? My favorites were The Wild Thornberrys and Little Bill, both on Nickelodeon. My sister and I also enjoyed this wacky show called The Upside Down Show but it wasn’t a cartoon.

What was your favorite toy as a child? I liked any toy that had a lot of buttons or features within it - dollhouses, kitchen sets, cash registers, toy phones, anything that could make me test how much it could do.

In High School did you wear acid washed jeans? No. It’s not a style I would be drawn to, then and now.

How much was a gallon of gasoline when you first started driving? I don’t know; I never paid much attention to gas prices, honestly.

What was your first car? It’s a 2014 (or 2015?) Mitsubishi Mirage I’m still using today, though it was my dad who paid for it and he’s the one who takes it out for oil changes and stuff.

Who taught you how to drive? My dad taught me a few times around the neighborhood, but he also enrolled me for like three classes in a driving school so that I got to learn how to drive in a highway.

What was your high school mascot? Both of my schools didn’t have any. My university does have a nickname for our varsity teams, but we’re simply just ‘Maroons’ and not an animal like what I usually see.

Did you go to your Senior Prom? We had a junior prom, nothing for senior year. I was invited to go to the senior ball in another school by Mike, though. That feels like ages ago; everything is so different now.

What did you do after graduation? After my high school graduation I went straight to college like most kids here. After graduating college, I immediately started looking for jobs; I landed an internship after a month and got absorbed into the company two months after.

What was your first job? I’m currently working as an associate at a public relations agency. This is my first job and for now, I’m content in staying in this career. This is where I set out to be when I was in college and I don’t feel the need to change paths any time soon.

What did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be an astronaut more than anything else, but I remember also wanting to be a firefighter or a vet.

Any posters on your bedroom walls growing up? I had a handful of wrestling posters that my mom was never a fan of. It was never her business since it’s my room, but she always made it the case.

Do you remember the first time you drank a beer? It may have been at Marielle’s debut, five Julys ago. She served beer at the afterparty of her 18th birthday party, and I think I had taken my first sip then.

Did you ever try cigarettes? Yeah, I started this year actually. I’m about to reach my first anniversary of trying my first cigarette :/ I don’t have a lot of them though and I haven’t smoked since like February or March, I think.

How did you spend your summers growing up? At home. My parents were always busy with work, so I had no choice but to myself occupied at home. Luckily I had siblings and cousins, so we were always playing with each other. My summers were never productive until I was in college, when I started making the effort to go out more.

If you could change anything from your teenage years, would you? Ahh idk man I wish I wouldn’t have spent as much time by the computer as I did, and maybe hang out with friends or something instead. < Yeah this hits the bullseye pretty much. I was a very introverted teenager. Not to mention the internet and social media started to blow up during my tween/early teenage years, so I was hooked to my laptop and kept people away as a result. I didn’t start feeling like a teenager until I was 16, when I gained friends and got invited to more stuff.

Do you remember your first time? Yeah, it was during one of my 18th birthday celebrations and she was around.

Ever look back and wish some things were still the same? I do it a lot these days. I do try to stop, because I don’t know what I can gain out of doing so anymore, and because there’s always the danger of being left behind from looking back too much; but most days I can’t help it.

After high school - straight to college or straight to work? University, because you kinda need that credential where I live. It’s unfair, but it’s our reality.

How much did you make per hour at your first job? We don’t really calculate that here...I’ll try to do math for y’all lmao aka Google it, which says I make $2.34 an hour. Wow when you put it that way, it really does not sound high :/ I’m honestly okay with my pay though. I live with my parents so I contribute to the bills and stuff now, but even then there’s more than enough left for me. Favorite home-cooked meal growing up? My grandma’s kare-kare. It was/is always reserved for special occasions; and out of all her grandchildren I was also the one who got attached to the dish especially as I got older, so eventually kare-kare also became the family’s ‘Robyn is coming over so we better prepare this’ dish. I think I’m her only grandchild that she has an allotted dish for, so that makes me feel special :)

Favorite place to eat out growing up? The local Burger King, back when it had a play place for kids. 

Did your parents live in a different country before you were born?: No, they have always lived in the Philippines. My mom has always wanted to migrate but my dad shoots it down every time.

Do you have a preferred coffee brand?: When it comes to coffee, no. I wanna try out everything. But when it comes to coffee shop ambience, Starbucks all the way.

Have you ever dated someone who was terrible with money?: No. I remember Gab as always being very cautious, responsible, and conscious about money. Her parents sustained her debit card and I’m pretty sure they always gave her a little bit extra, but she never took more than her weekly allowance from the ATM.

If so, how did it affect the relationship?: Money was never an issue, mostly because the money we received during the course of our relationship wasn’t even ours lol; we both received set allowances from our parents. If one of us was running out of cash, we never hesitated to cover for each other first, and we never pressured one another to pay back immediately.

How often do you paint your nails?: Never. 

Do you know anyone who's related to a current or former world leader?: Yeah, I went to high school with a relative of Duterte. She’s super secretive about it, which is pretty understandable. I’m friends with/went to classes with people who are grandchildren of senators and other politicians as well.

Do you do your own taxes, or do you hire a professional?: ...I have no idea how to do that...I always just assumed it’s already taken care of when a part of my salary is deducted lol. I may have to ask my parents about this, whoops.

What is something you don't have any natural talent for?: Anything to do with music. Reading it, playing it, singing, writing songs, etc. Also art and anything to do with creativity.

Did you watch this year's Eurovision?: Ah, my favorite time of the year to mute all my overseas mutuals on Twitter at one point lmao. No, I never caugtht up with it.

Have there been any periods in your life that could be described as being chaotic?: Senior year was a big chaotic war zone. The death of my grandpa and my first breakup coincided with all the crucial college entrance exams. Speaking of college, it was also a period of a lot of heavy decision-making due to me having to make choices of what course I wanted to take in every school I applied to. I barely cried during those few months and it still shocks me to this day how I did it. That was the most I’ve been on autopilot.

What is something you frequently forget?: Where I place my car keys and/or glasses last.

If I looked in your fridge right now, what would I find?: Bread, eggs, a bunch of condiments, butter cheese, vegetables, leftovers, and the grazing box I received from my workplace yesterday. I’m sure there’s more, but I haven’t really stopped and stared at our fridge for a while now.

How do you feel about your body?: I used to feel fairly confident about it; like it was never an issue with me. But truthfully, after being dumped, I’ve started to feel insecure over everything about me.

Who is someone you would like to get to know better?: My teammates at work, Bea and Ysa. They both seem like cool and funny people both in and out of work, and I’d love to get to hang out with them.

If you had to move to a new city, where would you move?: Idk, just somewhere with a lot of opportunities to try new things and meet new people.

Have you ever traveled on a double-decker train?: Nope. I’ve never been on anything double-decker, if I remember correctly.

What's your opinion on assisted suicide?: [trigger warning] I’ve looked into it, but it’s a dead end where I live. That’s all I’ll say, as I don’t want to give others ideas.

At what point do you consider a relationship to be 'long-term?': Fuck if I know anymore. We reached six years and it was a point where I was comfortable and didn’t feel the need to doubt anymore; everything turned out to be a lie in the end. I don’t know anymore. I don’t think about these things anymore.

What jobs did your parents have when you were growing up?: My dad has always been a chef, so he went through all the ranks throughout my childhood until he finally got an executive position when I was in high school. I remember my mom being a receptionist.

Do they still have these jobs? Or different jobs? Or have they retired?: My dad is still in that career path but he doesn’t cook in the kitchen anymore, or at least as much as he used to. He does all the menu planning, evaluating, etc. My mom has shifted to becoming an executive secretary, but she’s still in the hotel industry.

Do you own any winter sports equipment?: I don’t. There’s no reason for me to have any.

Do you have a cell contract plan, or are you on a pre-paid plan?: Prepaid.

Would your parents be okay with you dating someone of another race? I can definitely see my mom reacting, but I know she knows I won’t let her get away with saying anything mildly offensive. My dad would just go on with his life and will care more about the fact that I’m seeing someone, lol.

Do you like when friends stop by unexpectedly? No. Schedule it ahead and let me know. I’m not always mentally okay and them showing up as a surprise might just make me more stressed than grateful.

Where are the following people and what are they doing: mom, dad, sibling(s), best friend, significant other, ex, and last person you kissed? My entire family is under the same roof in their bedrooms, either sleeping or having just woken up. Angela is in Parañaque, probably at a cousin’s place; no significant other; I have no idea where my ex, and also the last person I kissed, is. She doesn’t really have anything to do with me anymore.

How strong are your feelings for the last person you kissed? They’re there. I’d still take a bullet for them if it comes down to it, the usual shit. Let’s move on.

What was the last thing someone else bought for you? My workplace gave me a grazing box as the company Christmas gift.

If your parents looked in your purse/book bag would they find anything you don’t want them to see? What about your bedroom? Do you have anything hidden in there? My vape pens. I came home from Starbucks last weekend and my mom thought my breath smelled like cigarettes and she almost got super pissed until I was able to convince her the only thing I put in my mouth was coffee, so I know my 22 year old, employed, self-earning ass would for sure still get in trouble if I was discovered to be vaping.

How close are you to the last person you hung out with? Can you be your complete self around them? It was the first time I met them and they are also my bosses, so I can’t exactly be my complete self around them yet. I had to act super reserved and to essentially make a good impression first before I start whipping out my jokes or whatever.

If you decided to call your ex right now, do you think he/she would answer? How would the conversation go? No, she’d reject it and tell me to text instead. If she was feeling snappy she would also tell me I’m no longer in the place to contact her that way. Sigh. Who is she anymore and why is she so different from the person I was with?

Are you attracted to the last person you exchanged numbers with? No.

Is music a daily part of your life? It’s not. Videos, more like.

Yellow nail polish: yes or no? Bright or neon yellow is a no, but I suppose more muted shades like mustard yellow can work for me.

What do you think of country music? Eh, not a fan. I would skip it in a second, and I never think about it.

Have you ever ended a relationship but wish you could’ve kept it a little longer? I’ve never ended a relationship.

Did you go to your high school’s graduation? Yes...that’s not an event I would’ve wanted to miss out on lol. That was a nice day. My grandparents came to watch me, and we had dinner at a revolving restaurant after.

If you could live the last three months over again, is there anything you’d change? Everything went to shit exactly three months ago, so this hits home very hard for me. Yes, I would change a lot of things for life not to have gone the way it has.

Who was the last person to message you on Facebook? What would you do if that person told you they have feelings for you? My mom. I would be creeped out and tell my dad immediately.

How did you feel when you woke up today? Melancholic.

Who was the first person you talked to today? What did you talk about? I haven’t talked to anyone yet today. I was thinking of replying to Aliyah’s comment on my Facebook post, but in the end I didn’t think a response was necessary.

When you apply your make-up, do you do it in a specific order? I don’t wear makeup.

Did you do anything sexual last night? No.

Do you think the last person you Facebook messaged is a virgin? She has three children, me included.

Did any of your friends lose their virginity before they were 16? If so, did you feel pressured to do the same? I don’t think my friends did, but I probably know other people who did. My baby asexual ass definitely didn’t feel the pressure. I was even scared shitless for my first kiss when it came time for it and I had kept putting it off that night.

Has someone of the opposite sex made you smile today? No.

Does it matter to you if your significant other smokes? With my previous relationship, it did in the beginning; eventually I just stopped caring.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? I think it may have been Andrew.

Do you like where you are in life right now? No. I don’t know if a new year would make it better, or if it would help give me a healthier mindset. I just have to wait and see.

Do you hate it when there is a fly around you? Very much.

Is your mom overbearing? She can be.

Is there snow where you live? Never.

[saltybaltic]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader - SPILLED MILK

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow x FemReader Fanfic

Prompt: A misstep causes one to spill something all over the other

Warnings: Language

Words: 1950

For @barnesrogersvstheworld 3k writing challenge. I know this is HELLA late but I tried and it’s here and I’m sorry I suck! I can only apologise for the poor and shameful quality of this story, it would appear I’m a little rusty and if I’m totally honest, endgame ruined me. I have seen that movie 5 times so far and let me tell you this for free - it hurts just as much each time! Anyway, enjoy this jumble of words I threw together ✌️

The morning had been a disaster from the word go and no amount of preparation or intervention was changing that. You had been positive the whole thing was planned to the very last detail but now as you dashed down the busy streets of New York clutching your portfolio to your chest and frantically pushing people to one side, all you could do was wonder how it had all gone so sideways.

A power cut at your apartment, losing your keys, a traffic jam downtown and an unexpected wrong turn had all lead to this moment; running desperately late for the job interview of your life. Your legs ached and your lungs burned as you checked your watch again and huffed out a breath before picking up the pace. You were now able to see the building just up the street, rushing out an apology to the man you nearly knocked flying as you approached the entrance to the foyer and attempted to straighten out your hair and clothing.

As you pushed open the doors to Stark Tower, you allowed yourself a quick calming breath and a glance at your reflection in the glass before continuing inside and starting your hunt for the reception. Glancing up at the clock on the wall, you were relieved to see that you had made it, just. A sense of calm descended on you finally, spotting the receptionist sat behind the desk and making your way over. Unfortunately your positive mood was only allowed to last a moment as no sooner had you taken a step forward you felt the weight of another person slamming into you, quickly followed by a hot liquid splashing down your front.

For just a second you were stunned, jaw slack and mouth slightly agape as you stared down at your white shirt that was now very much not white and instead covered in what appeared to be coffee. You almost couldn’t believe that something like this had happened to you, arms thrown out to the side as your brow furrowed and you looked up at the person stood in front of you holding a rather crumpled looking coffee cup.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!’ You snapped, one brow arching in question as you glared at the other woman.

To your surprise, she breathed out a laugh, lips turning up slightly at the corner of her mouth as she looked back at you seemingly unfazed by your outrage, “Well ... shit.”

“Excuse me?” You almost couldn’t believe her calm reaction to having near enough covered you in her drink. “You just walked into me with your coffee!”

Tilting her head to one side, she didn’t flinch even slightly at your tone, “Well I think an arguement could be made that it was you who walked into me.”

“Is this funny to you?! I have a ridiculously important meeting in like 3 minutes and you’ve covered half my shirt in coffee. How am I supposed to go in there now?”

Your voice had increased in volume and your anger was blatant to anyone close by but her demeanour didn’t falter for even a second, “Look I’m sorry but you weren’t exactly looking where you were going and I couldn’t move out of the way in time.”

Shaking your head furiously from side to side, you pointlessly wiped at the front of your shirt with a napkin from your pocket and muttered under your breath, “Great, so you’re a bitch as well as clumsy.”

This time it was the man stood beside the woman that laughed as he nudged her playfully, “Wow she’s got your number.”

“Shut up Clint.” She warned, the amused twinkle in her eyes betraying her tone as she turned her attention back to you, “Look, do you need some help? There are toilets just down he-“

“I think you’ve done enough thanks.” You cut in, giving her a final glare for good measure before hastily buttoning up your jacket and side stepping around her to continue your journey to the reception.

The pair watched you go, arms folded across their chests and a slight curve to their lips as you muttered a few more profanities quietly with the first couple of steps you took. Clint released a small chuckle, “I thought she was gonna kill you Nat.”

“Me too.” She agreed, turning to Clint with a grin, “I like her.”

His laughter only increased, slinging an arm around her shoulder and turning her away from you, “One track mind as always. Come on we’re already late.”

Somehow you had found yourself sat at a desk, waiting nervously for whoever would be conducting your interview. You couldn’t help but readjust your suit jacket every few seconds in a fruitless bid to hide the large stain on your shirt. Anger still resonated in the back of your mind towards the woman who had put you in such a position but the anxiety that was now creeping in was the only thing you were able to focus on. Your heart stopped and you held your breath as the door behind you clicked open and then abruptly closed, the sound of a heels clattering on the wood floor as someone made their way into the room and settled into the chair in front of you.

“So who do we have here ...” the woman glanced down at the file in front of her as she flattened down the front of her skirt.

In a shocked daze, you couldn’t stop the words as they slipped out, “You have got to be shitting me.”

Slowly she raised her head from her papers, with an arched brow and the faintest trace of a grin teasing the corners of her lips, “Would you like to start again?”

“You ... but ... you.”

“Agent Natasha Romanoff.” She cut off your rambling, looking back down at her papers briefly, “And I assume you’re (Y/N).”

Swallowing down your surprise, you nodded your head slowly as you gave a quiet reply, “Safe assumption.”

“And you’re interviewing for... our opening in A&T.”

Feeling more out of your depth by the second under Natasha’s gaze, you managed another dumb nod, “Correct.”

With a hum of a reply, Natasha looked back down at her files, tapping her pen gently against the edge of the papers as she tucked a curl of red hair behind her ear, “How did you hear about the position?”

“Through an old friend.” You paused to clear your throat in a bid to make your voice come out stronger, “He works in the same department.”

She asked a few more questions, her eyes remaining on the forms and papers as she jotted down the occasional note. It wasn’t until you were finally starting to ease into the situation that she actually looked up and scanned over you with an amused smile, “Rough morning?”

“I...” her question took you aback for a moment, having not expected her to acknowledge what had happened earlier in the lobby, never mind with such a teasing tone, “Guess you could say that.”

“In a hurry or something?”

You pursed your lips, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as you considered whether she was simply trying to wind you up, “I was running a little late ... yeah.”

“So not great with time management?”

You opened your mouth to respond but abruptly snapped it shut as you realised you had absolutely no comeback for her remark.

“I’m joking.” She stated matter of factly, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world before her grin broadened and she picked up her pen again, “Not great with social cues.”

“Hang on a minute.” You muttered hurriedly, sitting up further in your chair and placing your palms down on the desk, “I ... that’s not ... I ...”

You trailed off as she simply smiled back at you, a glint in her eye as she settled back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. There was a few seconds of silence as you simply looked back at one another before you blew out a breath, “And you’re joking again.”

“Relax, okay? You’re more than qualified for this position.” Natasha threw her pen down onto the desk, raking a hand through her hair before folding her hands across her stomach, “Tell me why I should recommend you for the job.”

“Because it’s the perfect position for me? I have years of experience in the field? I’ve proven myself time and time again that I can do this job and I can do it well?”

“Are these questions or statements?” Cut in Natasha, “Tell me why we should hire you.”

Taking a breath, you tried your best to come across confident with a small smile and a shrug, “Because I’m the best at what I do. And you need me.”

Natasha returned your smile as she reached across the desk and grabbed your portfolio, tipping it open and flipping through a few pages, “Well ... you’re not wrong.”

“I have more files at home if you needed them, it was just a lot to cram int-“

“This is more than enough don’t worry.” Interrupted Natasha, pushing the folded closed again and sliding it back over to you, “When can you start?”

“Well ... now.”

She laughed, rubbing at the underside of her chin as she thought for a minute, “How about Monday?”

“Are you serious?!” You blurted out, unable to quite believe you were lucky enough to have actually landed the job you so desperately wanted after such a disaster of a morning.

“I’m serious.” She chuckled, “Besides, I kind of think I owe you one.”

She gestured to your ruined shirt and you dismissed her with a bat of your hand, “Honestly, Agent Romanoff if it means getting this job then you can spill coffee on me every morning.”

Standing from her seat, she gestured to the door, “Come on, you’re gonna love the paperwork. And please just call me Natasha.”

A few days later when you arrived at the tower block for your first day of work, you made sure you had more than enough time for your 9am start. However it did nothing to settle your nerves, unable to shake the feeling that you were incredibly out of your depth surrounded by the bustle of agents. You looked around uncomfortably, not really sure if it was a terrible faux pas to arrive nearly forty minutes early for your new job and you were fairly certain you were beginning to attract attention.

A tap on your shoulder startled you, sure that you about to be questioned by security for your prolonged lingering but it seemed you needn’t have bothered as you turned on the spot and were greeted with a warm smile and an outstretched hand offering a coffee.

“Hopefully you won’t end up wearing this one.” Teased Natasha, pushing the drink into your hand before flitting her head in the direction of the elevator, “Come on I’ll show you around.”

And so began your new ritual without even realising it. You eased into life at your new job with the boost of confidence and comfort that a morning coffee with Natasha could bring you. On your second morning she had introduced you to a few other people from different departments. On your third she had taken you out into the grounds to show you all of the best quiet spots for lunch. On the fourth day you simply sat in her office and were joined by the man you had met on your first visit. You learned that Clint was an agent like Natasha. It struck you how close the pair of them seemed, laughing together and occasionally exchanging a private glance that you could just tell said more than words ever could.

It went on like this for a while, not every morning but often enough that you were no longer surprised when Natasha flopped into the chair opposite your desk and pushed a coffee over to your side. Even when you had been at the tower a little longer and were more comfortable so you didn’t necessarily need the support, you couldn’t help craving the company of the other woman on a morning.

It had been five weeks since you had been hired when your attention drifted from the computer screen in front of you to the woman now slouched in a chair at your desk.

“It’s half eight nerd, why are you working already?” Asked Natasha, sliding a drink over to you.

You shook your head and laughed quietly, “I have a lot of work to do this week.”

“You know you’re not the new girl anymore? You don’t have to work so hard to impress now.”

“I know that.” You muttered, eyes still focused on the screen as you tapped away on the keyboard.

“Need help with anything?”

Glancing across from the screen, you couldn’t ignore the warm sensation in your stomach that the wide smile on the face of the other woman brought you. If you were totally honest this had been happening more and more recently and you were doing your best to pretend it wasn’t. You found yourself thinking about Natasha more, missing her company when she wasn’t around, looking at her more carefully when you were together and noticing all the little things about her. She made you laugh without even trying, something that seemed insane to some of your colleagues who apparently found the red head nothing short of terrifying. Time with Natasha had started normal and boring enough; she had made you comfortable in your new surroundings and most of your coffee meetings had involved talking shop or the red head answering any questions you had. You had half expected her to start leaving you to your own devices after a while, sure that she would start to get bored of your company and leave you to it. You were positive it shouldn’t have made you as happy as it did that she stuck around.

A sharp click of her fingers brought you back to reality, looking over and seeing the other woman smirking at you over the top of her coffee cup, “Penny for your thoughts.”

Cleaning your throat, you tapped at the keyboard a few times to close what you were working on and turned in your chair so you were facing her properly, “Just thinking it’s been nice ... starting here and you looking out for me and stuff. I’m really grateful for your help.”

She placed her coffee down, a curious smile gracing her features, “Well ... I know we didn’t get off to the best start but, I like having you around. You’re not a pain my ass like most of the people here.”

You laughed, “Seriously Nat, you’ve made this whole thing so much easier.”

“Good.” She adjusted herself in the chair, sitting up a little straighter and folding her arms across her chest, “Your six week review is coming up.”

You didn’t fail to notice her slight shift in demeanour, “Okay ...”

“And it would normally be me doing it but ...”

As she trailed off you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy at the sight of Natasha exhibiting signs of nervousness and discomfort for the first time since you had met her.

“I think ... I well I-“

“Are they firing me?”

Until now she had been staring down at the desk as she tried to mumble out a intelligible sentence but your words caused her head to snap up so she could look at you, “No! God, no! Of course not, you’re great don’t worry.”

“What’s wrong then?”

She chewed on her lip nervously as she looked back at you in a way that you couldn’t help but feel she was trying to read your mind, “I was going to ask you something this morning ... and depending on your answer, I’m not sure it would be ... appropriate for me to be monitoring you anymore.”

Rubbing at your eyes in thought, you shook your head from side to side, “Please start making sense soon, it’s still early and you’re giving me a headache.”

“Do you want to go out with me?” She had spat the words out before she had a chance to stop herself, “You know, for coffee or something. Instead of me hand delivering it.”

Gripping the edge of the desk, you rolled your chair a little closer so that you could lean on top of the wooden surface, “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“If you want it to be.” She answered truthfully, mirroring your position and sitting forward in her chair so that she could fold her hands on top of the desk, “Doesn’t have to be a date. Doesn’t have to be coffee.”

“I ... are you serious?”

She breathed out a nervous laugh, “We’ve been through this, just assume I’m always serious.”

“But ... look at you!”

She shook her head gently, an amused smile on her face as she leaned a little further forward. One of her hands crept just far enough across the desk that she was able to ghost her fingertips over yours, a touch so light that you couldn’t believe how much it had made your body tingle, “Are you going to say yes or not?”

You were sure you couldn’t have looked more stunned if you tried at the idea that this gorgeous woman in front of you had any kind of trepidation about asking someone out on a date. “Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Say it then.” Her fingers moved again slightly, this time brushing over the back of your hand, but her eyes never left yours.

You smiled, turning your hand over on the desk so that you could squeeze her fingers reassuringly, “Yes, obviously, no brainier.”

The pair of you sat like that for a minute, her hand atop yours and eyes focused on one another, both sporting what could only be described as a cheesy grin before she cleared her throat and rose to her feet, “Right I need to go, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, “Is that where you’re taking me? The canteen?”

Natasha snorted, “You’re an idiot. We can talk about it at lunch yeah?”

“Sounds good.”

Turning on the spot, Natasha picked up her cup and made her way over to the door, pausing for a second to look back at you and smile, “Super glad I spilled coffee on you a few weeks ago.”

“Get out.” You joked, chuckling quietly, “I’m still mad no matter how cute you are.”

She quirked an eyebrow and smirked, “You couldn’t be mad at me if you tried.”

As you watched her leave and basked in the feeling only spending time with Natasha could give, you had to agree she was probably right.

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [4]

Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 4.5 OR Chapter 5

➜ Words: 5.7k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: swearing

Right as things seem to be improving and you’re slowly being less ostracized by the others, it plummets all to hell again. It’s no wonder that so many people hate HR. You’re constantly going after the employees and you’re really beginning to feel like Hoseok’s personal henchman.   “Am I being fired?” Lisa cuts straight to the point, eyeing how the conference room door is closed and the shades have been drawn for the utmost privacy. She faces you from across the table and glances at Hoseok who’s behind you, chair against the wall, preoccupied with some work and flipping through a stack of papers.   “No, no, you’re not,” you try to reassure the female receptionist to no avail. You’re perfectly aware that out of everyone, Lisa has the most hostility towards you. It’s justified too, since you basically fired her best friend and now she thinks you have it out for the receptionists.   “Then what is it?”   “I would like to just brush up on the dress code with you.” You try your best to offer the kindest smile while damning Hoseok on why he made you do this. It’s your job, but still. “It’s not a huge deal, but the firm’s dress code is business professional and it applies to everyone. For men, it’s buttoned suits with ties or dress pants and sports jackets. And women can wear pencil skirts or dress pants with a top and jacket, or a dress or suit as well. Muted and neutral colours are generally encouraged, but there’s some flexibility there. Shoes can be opened toed or closed, as long as they’re not sandals or sneakers or boots...”   Your hands are clasped on the table and you continue, “There are a lot of choices to choose from. But Jung and Park find it especially important for you to adhere to the dress code because you greet clients that come in. In a way, you’re the face of the entire firm—”   “So what you’re saying is you want me to button up my blouse more?” She interrupts you and her glare is directed towards Hoseok for a few seconds before she looks down at her own shirt.   “Yes.” You retain your reserved smile, keeping your voice light and trying your best to clearly deliver your message without misunderstandings. “It’s a bit revealing. You look fantastic! I really like your fashion sense! But maybe it’s more appropriate for an evening out with friends rather than a professional office setting.”   “Maybe people shouldn’t let their eyes wander,” she mutters passive aggressively and moves on before you can address her concern. “If the dress code is so important, then I’d like to tell you that Taehyung comes in his pajamas sometimes.”   “I will talk to him about it,” you promise her and she nods, already moving to do up two more buttons on her white blouse. “How is Dahyun? Is she doing alright with you?”   “She’s fine,” Lisa says in a curt tone. “If this is all, can I go now?”   “Uh...yes, you can go now. Thank you for this discussion.” It’s shorter and easier than what you were preparing for. In the next few seconds, the receptionist swiftly stood and opened the door, waltzing out. You’ve also stood up, shuffling your stack of papers. Hoseok continues to sit there without moving, flipping to his next page, but the corner of his mouth moves.   “You need to be more stern,” he mumbles, barely coherent.   “I’m doing fine,” you tell him and with that, you leave.   No one said your job would be easy. When Jimin told you this place was full of high conflict, he wasn’t kidding. It seems like office drama and gossip runs like the wild west here. But recently, the flood of complaints made against each other seemed to stop entirely. Maybe people didn’t want to file official complaints or they simply decided to band together against you and Hoseok. If it’s the latter reason, you’re happy that you at least got to lessen the tension around the office.   It takes teamwork to revolt against authority figures. And….well, even if no one wants to be your friend anymore, you still like your job.   It’s a lot better than driving a damn taxi around.   “Um, Y/N?” There’s a timid knock on your door and you bolt your head upright, tearing your eyes away from the computer screen. At the doorway, Sebin linger hesitantly, arms holding onto a thick file. “Do...do you have some time?’   “Of course!” You stand, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Nonetheless, you welcome her in and when she takes a seat, you happily close the door for privacy. You just can’t believe that someone’s actually here, greeting you, asking for your help, and you’re about to pull out all stops. “What can I do for you?”   “I just need to talk to someone.” The girl brushes her long brunette hair until it’s behind her, draping her backside. Her eyes divert to her lap, fingers playing with the hem of her beige pencil skirt before she looks up at you. “I’ve been having a hard time recently.”   “Do you know what you’re having a hard time with? Is it your family or your personal life or is it because of someone in the office?”   She shakes her head with a modest smile. “No, no one’s been anything but nice to me here. I just feel stuck.”   You nod, actively listening and reading her expression. “Can you elaborate? What do you mean by stuck?”   “I just…” The legal assistant sighs, a heavy exhale squeezing from her lungs. “I wonder what I’m doing. I like my job. I think it’s easy and straightforward. It pays the bills too. I really love and adore everyone here. Jimin was the one who hired me and I feel like I owe it to him to stick this out...but I don’t know...I keep thinking about it and I can’t get rid of this feeling.”   “Sebin, you don’t owe it to anyone to stick it out.” You repeat her exact words and you reach across your desk to squeeze her hand. “There’s no one here who would understand better than Jimin.”   She smiles, thankful that you’re offering her comfort. “I don’t know if this is what I want for myself anymore. But if I leave this place, I don’t know where I will go, I don’t know where I would get money.”   “Do you have any savings?”   “I do. But what if I can’t find another job? What if no one’s hiring? I know the economy isn’t great.”   “At this point, I don’t think the economy will ever be good.” You grin and she laughs behind her hand, agreeing with you. “There are a lot of reasons why you shouldn't do something. Sometimes...you just gotta go for it, as stupid as that sounds.”   The girl is kind of surprised. She expected you to coerce her to stay and she wondered if you’d just turn around and tattle to Hoseok later. She wouldn’t be all that shocked if Hoseok chucked a cardboard box at her head and told her to clean out her desk before the end of the day for even thinking of leaving her job. But Sebin is pleased to hear your encouragements and a part of her thinks you won’t tell Hoseok. Your sincerity reaches her. “Can you be honest with me?”   “Of course,” you reassure, wondering when you’ve ever been dishonest.   “Do you think it’s dumb?” The paralegal makes wild gestures with her hands. “I mean...my job right now isn’t hard…”   “Just because it’s easy, it doesn’t mean you’ll like it.” You hum and begin to reminisce. “I’ve been at jobs for the sake of money before and I was miserable the entire time. Actually, I only have this position right now because I made the decision to quit my old job….for the same reasons as you.”   You continue, “And as hard as this job can be sometimes, I love it a lot. I don’t think there’s anything I’d rather do than be here and help people, get to know them and boost office morale while still being a part of the team.”   Sebin smiles warmly, in awe at how you speak so passionately even when you know HR is a mundane job. “I’m not even sure of what I want.”   “Well…” You lean back. “If money wasn’t a concern, what would you want to do?”   “I don’t know.” It’s a typical question, but the legal assistant considers it carefully. “I’d travel. I’d eat a lot. I...I always wanted to become a teacher, so maybe I’d do that. I had a job as a teacher’s aide before. I just never thought I could be an actual teacher. Somewhere along the way, I applied for this job...and then I stuck to it.”   “And now you’re really stuck,” you say lightheartedly and she nods. “I think you would be a great teacher, Sebin. You have the patience for it for sure and it’s never really too late to do anything. If you have savings, you could do it, return to school and see what you need to complete your degree. There’re tons of bursaries and scholarships for adult students as well. In fact, I may have something for you.”   You open your left drawer, thanking the heavens of your bad habit of taking brochures that you don’t need. In ten seconds, you’ve fished for the right one and you slide the pamphlet over to her. “You can also continue working while going to school. There’s a lot of options out there.”   The girl’s eyes are glazed over, holding back tears. “Thank you for this, Y/N. I really appreciate it. I had no one else to talk to and...this just means a lot to me.”   “No problem.” If you were happy before, now you were on a high. Why should people do drugs when helping people was for free? “If you want, you can keep me updated on what you decide, but you don’t have to. My door’s always open if you need to talk to someone.”   At the end of the conversation, the both of you are over the moon.   Sebin leaves while dabbing her eyes with the back of her hand and you’re ecstatic that you actually got to help someone in their career development. At this rate, you’re sure she’ll still be working while going to school part-time, eventually becoming a teacher, or maybe not. She’s promised to see where things go and to take steps to make herself happier. And you couldn’t be happier yourself.   Except, the next day, someone by the name of Jung Hoseok takes a big fat dump on your bliss.   “You called me?” You pop your head through the door and he motions you in. You’re forced to awkwardly shuffle, moving to stand in front of his desk like you’re an elementary student about to be scolded by the principal.   “Explain this to me.” He throws a letter onto his desk and he glares at you hard enough to set your skin aflame. “Sebin just handed me her two weeks notice.”   Oh shit. Turns out she won’t be working and going to school at the same time. Maybe it’s better that she fully focuses on achieving her goal. It’s a good decision either way.   But you don’t tell Hoseok any of your thoughts. Instead, you manage a skeptical expression. “And you called me because…?”   “Because she came in here talking about being stuck and her dreams and needing to take charge of her life. I was thinking about who could’ve fed her all this nonsense and I realized that it could only be you.”   There’s a murderous look in his eye and you begin to break a sweat. If Hoseok didn’t hate you before, now he definitely did. You scramble to reply, “That...that’s a big assumption. Aren’t lawyers supposed to avoid assumptions?”   “Do you realize that in this busy season, we cannot afford to lose an important member of staff?”   “Yes.”   “Do you know how much work it will take to hire another paralegal that will fulfill the correct requirements and fit the needs of this office?”   “Yes,” you mutter before adding on, “but isn’t it my job to find someone suitable?”   Jung Hoseok is not amused and from the way he glares at you dead in the eyes and his hands are clasped, it makes you ponder if this is what Satan looks like in hell. “Did she or did she not visit you in the past few days?”   “She did.”   “And what did you talk about?”   “That is confidential material.”   “I am your boss and it is your job to tell me,” he demands and your life flashes before your eyes. You wonder if this is the end, if he’ll toss his sharp scissors at your exposed neck and the rest of the lawyers will end up hiding your corpse and burning it in some forest. They’d get away with it too, considering they’re the top lawyers in the industry. Oh god. How would your mom even react if your death became an unsolved mystery? “Either way, you would’ve had to fill out a report, correct? I could always read it.”   “Sometimes reports are not necessary to fill out,” you mumble while scratching your hair and downcasting your head.   The lawyer seated across from you persists without missing a single beat. “Did you or did you not speak to Sebin about her professional goals?”   “Perhaps.”   “Did you at any point suggest that she should quit if she is feeling unhappy?”   You’ve watched enough law television shows to know how to respond. It might be ridiculous, but you don’t care. “I refuse to respond on the grounds that it may incriminate me.”   Hoseok’s frown deepens, but the corner of his mouth twitches. You’re not sure if he’s become slightly amused or absolutely furious with you. “Are you….are you pleading the fifth?” He asks it like he can’t believe his own ears.   You cringe in your spot, avoiding his glare. “Yes.”   “This is not an interrogation.”   “Then what am I doing here?”   The male is brought to a loss for words, so he simply scoffs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and waves you away with his other hand. “Get out of here before I toss my mug at you.”   “That’s a threat and verbally abusive, also highly inappropriate.” Despite your words, your legs bolt upwards and you’re on your toes again, collecting yourself as you slowly back away from his desk. “Just letting you know as HR.”   “You’re testing me,” he chimes and returns back to his work.   “Alright...goodbye.” You run for your life and Hoseok lifts his chin, staring at the space where you just occupied. The corner of his tilt mouth again and he lets out a hopeless puff of air through his parted lips before it stretches into the smallest of smiles.   //   If life at the office could be charted, it would be one of the craziest graphs you would need to draw. The line would currently dip and rise, like the drop and incline of a rollercoaster with no stops. Often times when you’re having the time of your life, it plummets to the bottom. And when you’re having the worst time, things improve so drastically, you remember why you wanted this job in the first place.   At the moment, it feels like things were at a standstill, half between the rise and fall of good and bad. While the employees of the firm aren’t exactly friendly with you anymore, they aren’t hostile or passive aggressive either. Sure, you’re almost certain Hoseok hates your guts and probably wants to throw you out of his window, Jimin has been nothing but understanding and kind.   Things are okay.   But it’s about to be a new low for you.   “Are you the one who fired my girlfriend?!”   “Pardon?” You frown in confusion, forced to a halt in front of the office building as the car pulls up on the curb. An unfamiliar man has his head popped out of the window, half his body hanging out as he angrily screams the question at you. It’s only nine a.m. in the morning and your mind is still numb without coffee.   “Are you the fucking HR bitch that fired my girlfriend?!” He repeats, shouting so loudly that it hurts your ears. What you don’t notice is who is sitting in the driver seat and the familiar lawyer that is walking down the street, noticing the commotion going on.   It happens too quickly.   The driver of the car moves the man out of the way to see out the window. You recognize the ex-receptionist immediately and she wastes no time to point an accusatory finger at you. Kei frowns and shrieks, “That’s her!”   The man in the passenger seat brings up a bucket from in-between his feet and then there’s a sudden stream that glistens in the morning sunshine. There is the sound of sloshing that follows. The beads glimmer against the light like stars and then it falls like a tsunami.   You’re doused in cold water.   It shocks your system, hair drenched and clothes dripping, doused from head to toe. There are gasps that surround you, people passing by that move out of the way to not get wet. The man shouts, “Drive, drive!” And then tires screech on pavement as it pulls off and zips down the road.   Hoseok runs over towards you and pulls out his phone, swiftly snapping a shot of the license plate before the car is too far gone. If you thought he was furious before, now he was completely livid.   “What the fuck!” His hands curl around your shoulders, firm yet still gentle, and he doesn’t notice when you flinch from his touch. “Are you okay??! Y/N?!” The man searches your face before he locks his eyes with yours.   “I...I’m fine.” You’re violently shivering, still shocked by the sudden change of temperature and also humiliated by people’s stares. “It’s just water, I’m fine. It’ll dry off.”   He doesn’t wait and takes off his suit jacket, draping it over you as if it could warm you up and shield you away from stranger’s gazes. The security guard of the building runs out while catching his breath and Hoseok casts one mere glance at him. “Give me the footage of that security camera.”   “You got it,” he responds and goes off again.   “Hoseok.”   “Do you have a change of clothes with you? Actually no, go home,” he says it quickly, nearly getting whiplash at how fast he turns to look at you again. You can’t imagine taking the subway in this state and he must read your expression well with the next question he asks. “Did you drive here or do you need me to drive you home? Wait, no, we need to file a police report as soon as possible. Okay, let me drive you home to change and then we can head to the police station and file a police report.”   “Wait…”   “We can get a restraining order by noon. See if we can press charges on grounds of harassment and assault and verbal abuse. From now on, I’m your attorney, understand?”   “Listen to me,” you say as calmly as possible whilst gazing into his eyes. “I don’t want to press charges or file a police report. I’m fine.”   His jaw clenches and the knit between his brows deepen. “No. You do not get to argue with me on this.”   “It was water. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” You just want to go away from the prying eyes and pitiful stares. “I’ll dry off. And she was just upset, she lost her job.”   “That does not justify her actions. Why do you let this happen to you?! Are you really okay with it?!” Hoseok’s composure is completely lost and he steps away, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Fine, you might not want to press charges, but I’m still going to get a restraining order for this office. I have a responsibility to protect my employees, do you understand? And you are my employee. No one is allowed to hurt you or put you in danger.”   You’re caught in a trance, staring into his brown irises that seems to catch light in all the right places. Eventually, you’re pulled back to attention when Sunyi comes rushing over, asking what happened. Miraculously, the lawyer has a change of clothing since she was planning to switch to more formal attire to meet an important client at two. She’s happy to let you borrow her clothes.   The ride up to the floor is uncomfortable and smothering. Everyone in the office stops to gawk, baffled out of their minds at the sight of you, considering you look like you went showering in your attire. But no one whispers or murmurs since Hoseok stomps into Jimin’s office and the door slams shut, hard enough to cause the hinges to break and the goddamn wall to crumble.   You change and Seulgi makes a cup of hot coffee to warm you up. Even Lisa lingers in the kitchen and asks if you’re alright.   Within the hour, Hoseok appears again, beelining from his partner’s office to yours. He seems much calmer now, vein no longer popping at his forehead, wrinkles no longer prominent and brows not furrowed. “I know you don’t want to press charges. Tell me if you change your mind, but the entire firm is getting a restraining order against both parties. She will not be allowed to be within five hundred meters of this office building.”   There’s an extended silence.   The lawyer nods, having nothing more to say and he turns to walk out. “Hoseok.” Your voice stops him. “Thank you.”   “It’s a given,” he murmurs in an oddly softer tone and then turns so you can see the profile of his visage. The edge of his mouth lifts. “You’re my responsibility, you know....even if you are a headache.”   You smile back at him and he leaves.

//

As usual, with the new low, comes a new high. And you can only hope naively that things stay this way forever. Rumours of what Kei did to you spread and they evolve to become wilder versions — ones where you threw yourself in front of Hoseok and protected him, or she had hired a hitman to harm people in the office, but you blocked the entrance and protected them. If anything, you’re amused over these stories.   But more importantly, the employees of the firm become more pleasant towards you, like when you first joined and won their trust. Maybe they turned a new leaf because they finally realized your job wasn’t as jolly and chummy as it seemed on the outside. Maybe they felt guilty since in the back of their minds, they knew you were being shunned. Maybe their kindness derives from pity.   Whatever the case may be, you don’t mind.   The others are surprised at how Sebin is close to you. She chooses to sit beside you during lunchtime in the break room and chatters on happily. She even tells you how she got accepted into the first post-secondary institution of her choosing and Hoseok wrote her one of the best recommendation letters that brought her to tears; it turns out the lawyer isn’t angry that she isn’t staying.   Before the paralegal leaves, everyone celebrates with cake in the conference room, bidding her goodbye and telling her to visit. You’re sad that one of your best friends have left, but it doesn’t last too long when Seulgi invites you out to lunch one afternoon and the two of you have a fun chat. Even Sunyi has returned to your office every other day to do her regular complaints about Yoongi.   Things are good.   For the most part.   “Good morning.”   “Morning.”   The elevator doors shut and the tension between you two and the small space is enough to suffocate you. You should’ve known he was close behind you and maybe you would’ve waited for another elevator or took the stairs. Sure, you probably would’ve ended up sticky with sweat, but it would be better than standing alone next to Jung Hoseok.   All you do is focus on the rising numbers flashing over the doors….   Until there’s a large ‘clack’, the floor jolting and causing you to grip the side bars. The overhead lights flash for a moment. The bulbs die off, engulfing you in darkness before flickering back on.   “That doesn’t sound good,” you mutter underneath your breath and Hoseok moves to spam the elevator buttons. They don’t light up. The elevator doesn’t move. The numbers stay the same.   He curses and hits the ‘call for help’ button.   “Not again.” He fishes out his phone and speed dials Jimin. At the same time, the intercom flares to life and he doesn’t wait for them. “We’re stuck in elevator two between floors seven and eight.”   The woman on the other side remains impassive. “We’re on our way.”   Jimin doesn’t pick up and he hangs up with a sigh. Wonderful. As if being in the same elevator with just Hoseok wasn’t painful enough, now you were trapped with him. Trapped. For god knows how long.   “Does….” You attempt to break the silence and you finally shift to look at him. “Does this happen often?”   “Often enough for it not to be surprising,” Hoseok mutters and sits on the ground. You decide to follow his lead, moving to lean up against the corner of the elevator with your legs out in front of you. There’s a moment of quiet before the lawyer speaks, “The last time this damn elevator did this, it was stuck for four hours.”   He pauses and looks at you, smooth timbre quieting, “We should designate a peeing corner. My bladder is beginning to hurt.”   Your eyes are full of horror. “Wh-what?”   “I’m kidding!” He laughs at your expression. The sound of his laughter is tinkling, foreign to your ears. It’s as if sunshine itself is emitting from his mouth. “In what world would I actually piss in the corner of an elevator? And we’ll probably get out here in ten minutes.”   “Oh.” It was a joke.   Hoseok’s little chuckles fade off and he looks at you with a smile. “Lighten up, you always act like I’m going to bite your head off.”   “Aren’t you?” Underneath your placid exterior, you’re shaken from his lightheartedness and teasing. At the moment, you’re not too sure who’s sitting next to you and if this is the same man who rules the office with an iron fist. But you know this is also a part of him he doesn’t show in the firm — though it painfully reminds you of something long ago.   “That would get me arrested and trust me, you don’t want to see prison version of Hoseok.”   You grin at how he refers to himself in third person. “What’s prison version of Hoseok?”   “Someone who tries to escape and fails and ends up crying pathetically on a cold prison floor with a tramp stamp tattoo of a red butterfly,” he drones on and ends up sounding completely done with his life. You can’t help the giggles that bubble up your throat and he smiles, able to make both your predicaments better.   The elevator suddenly creaks, sounding like nuts and bolts tumbling and you quirk your head to one side, grabbing the bar by your head tighter. “The elevator won’t suddenly fall, right? We won’t die, right?”   “Don’t worry. If we do, the building will be liable for our deaths and Jimin will sue them.”   “Great to know I’ll have a chunk of money in my coffin,” you deadpan and this time, he’s the one laughing. You watch the way his mouth draws up slightly into a heart shape when he’s grinning and how his eyes crinkle softly. The words spill before you can stop them. “Do you really not remember?”   His laughs slowly fade away, the last of them streaming from his chest before he looks over at you, tilting his chin towards you, lips together but still pulled into a smile. “Remember what?”   You stare at him for a moment before tearing your eyes to the closed silver doors. “Never mind.”   “No.” He won’t take no for an answer, not when his irises are sparkling with both mischief and curiosity. “What is it?”   “Nothing.” You shrug. “There’s no point if you don’t remember. It was like twelve years ago.”   “What? Did you do me wrong and now I don’t remember?”   “Not telling.”   “Tell,” he demands childishly and leans over like he’s going to crawl closer to you. You’d rather climb up the elevator shaft like Spiderman and end up dying because you’re not Spiderman than to have him close the already small distance between the two of you.   “Okay fine!” Luckily, he stops moving and you swallow hard. “I freeloaded off a group project with you.” You watch his reaction. “If you didn’t notice on my résumé, we went to the same university. But actually, we were also in the same finance class in our second year together. It was a long time ago.”   “That’s it?” An endeared expression appears on his features. “That’s what you were so worried about?”   “Of course, I’m worried! I freeloaded off of you! We were supposed to meet at a library, but I was in a board game club and I ditched you because I was winning at Monopoly.” As if it helps, you add on, “Which I ended up winning, by the way.”   “Really?” The little shit is grinning, finding your story all the too amusing, from how you were in a board game club to how you actually knew each other and not just by name.   “We failed.”   “Well, that’s not too bad.” He muses, “Thought there was something deeper or more important.”   “It was forty percent of our grade,” you counter.   There’s a bit of a pause and then he shrugs. “.....I still made it as a lawyer and you made it as an HR member.”   Since all of this is out and the open, you figure you might as well spill all the beans. “And you may or may not have asked me out to a coffee date, but I rejected you.” A part of you almost hopes that he’ll remember. Except, he doesn’t.   “Okay, now I’m just hurt.” He puts a hand over his chest where his heart should be, an over dramatic reaction and he gasps. “How could you?” You laugh and he smiles at the sound, arm dropping into his lap. “Sounded like we were friends back then.”   “Acquaintances,” you correct.   “Well, the past is the past and it’s not like I can even remember, so you can stop tiptoeing around me.”   “I’m not tiptoeing!” You defend, despite it being a complete lie. For the first time, you actually feel at ease being in Hoseok’s presence, like the weight of the past is no longer on your shoulders. It’s nice to talk to him like this, like the both of you are adults with no baggage or resentments.   “Yeah, you are.” His eyebrow is cocked. “I know the rest of them are scared of me, but they have reason to be. You don’t. You haven’t fucked up yet.”   You’re surprised. “I haven’t?”   “Annoying if anything, but no, you haven’t really.”   “I’m glad.” You smile to yourself, fiddling with your fingers and looking in your lap. There’s another thought that comes into your mind, but you wonder if you would be overstepping your boundaries. Still, you can’t imagine a better time than now. Your voice is a soft whisper when you speak, full of hesitancy, “Was your accident that bad that you can’t remember anything?”   “Hey!” He scoffs in offence. “I remember everything. Just not the small details like acquaintances and stuff. But yeah, I hit a lamp post on the highway and ended up in the hospital for a year of recovery. It was rough.”   “I’m sorry.”   “It’s fine. It actually worked out in the end since Jimin came to me and told me he had plans of opening a law firm one day and wanted me as a partner. That helped me get off my ass and I finished my third year of law school, did a year of articling for another divorce firm, and then Jimin and I started this place.”   “That’s really amazing.” The words spill out in awe.   “A lot of sleepless nights.”   “But you made it.”   “Sure did.” He turns to gaze at you. “You did too.”   “Yeah…”   The ten-minute estimate turns into twenty and with enough of Hoseok yelling over the intercom for what’s taking so long, you both eventually get freed from the elevator. The paralegals end up crowding you after, asking if being trapped with Hoseok for that long was as horrible as it seemed and if you wanted to hit your head on the walls and die, but you only shrug and keep your responses positive.   In reality, you enjoyed talking to him a lot. You missed it.   Hoseok disappears for the rest of the day for court proceedings, Yoongi and Taehyung following him and giving him a headache with their bickering. It’s almost as if the conversation and reconnection never happened and you’re a bit disappointed, but then the next day, you have him knocking on your door.   “Is there something wrong?”   “No.” He plops down his second coffee on your desk and takes a sip with the one in his right hand. You stare at the cup, not sure what he wants you to do with it or if he’s putting it down temporarily. “It’s yours.”   You hold it, looking up at him. “Mine?”   “It’s my offering of our truce.”   Truce. Hoseok ends up leaving without looking at you and your bright smile.   In your life, you’ve never had such delicious coffee before.

[turdblossommm]

I’ll Fly Away {12}

Summary: You had a rough childhood and are closed off from people in fear of being hurt again. James Barnes is the complete opposite from you, he grew up well and healthy. James Barnes knew how to get what he wants but when he faces the challenge of knowing you will he succeed

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Two more parts and an epilogue! I just posted a new story and if you want you can check it out here!

part 11 / masterlist

Bucky had gone off to say his goodbyes as you waited by the front door

“You must be Y/N” You turned to an African American man with an accent approaching you

“That’s me” You gave him a small smile, your body still buzzing from your dance with Bucky and the three little words said

“T’Challa” He stuck out his hand and you took it

“As in Wakanda Publishing?” You smiled even bigger

“The very same” He nodded 

“I love almost every book that comes from your publishing house” You gushed. Bucky watched you interact with T’Challa, he had a different friendship with him than he did with his other friends. T’Challa found him in a dark place, deep in the crevices of the business world and brought him out of it. Bucky smiled as your eyes found him and he walked to you and grabbed you hand

“T” Bucky shook his hands

“You’ve found yourself a lovely women” You felt your cheeks warm as Bucky gripped you hand and led you from the party and to the car after his finished his goodbyes. Bucky held your hand as Carlton drove you home.

“Would you like to stay at my place tonight?” You felt your heart stop, you have had many late nights at Bucky’s place but you never stayed the night. Your heart began to race and sweat began to form on your forehead. You swallowed  your fear and turned to to him

“I’d like that” Things like this scared you, the commitment that revolved around Bucky scared you. There was a reason you’ve never had a long term relationship, you’d barely had relationship in the past because you were so afraid.

But Bucky got you, he understood when to push you and then pull you back when things were too hard. He knew you were uncomfortable in crowds and how you liked you coffee and how you didn’t allow yourself to have coffee after noon because then all bets are off. Despite not having a remotely similar childhood he understood what happened to you. 

When Bucky laid you down in his bed leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to the bedroom he understood what he meant to you. He knew you weren’t one for long confessions of love that you’d rather use your actions than your words. Like when you cook him bacon despite your distaste for it, or when you bring him his favorite take away from the indian restaurant from down the street when he’s working a late night.

Bucky wasn’t the first person you’ve had sex with, but it was the first time you meant it. You finally understood what it meant to be intimate with the person you truly love. You always scoffed at the hopeless romantic gestures and words of romance novels, never believe a word that you read on the page. But now, with Bucky you felt all those words.

Bucky smiled as he watch you try to keep your eyes open, you giggled as the smile grew on his face. This was a new view for him, your skin dewy from prior activities and your hair spread across the pillow and a content smile on your face. He grabbed your face and connected your lips once more

“I love you” You whispered 

“I love you more” You scoffed and shook your head and rolled over. Bucky quickly pulled you into his chest and closed his eyes once he heard soft snores leave your mouth.

~

In the morning you left with Bucky and he dropped you off at your apartment on his way to work. You quickly jogged up the stair barefoot in his sweats and t-shirt. Once inside you shut the door and leaned against the door and smiled at Nat who looked up from the news paper she was reading

“Stop fucking reading my news paper, I don’t pay for it for you to read it before me”

“You were supposed to be home at midnight” She tsked and you rolled your eyes. you felt her eyes scrutinizing you “You slept with him” She pointed her finger at you

“Nat” You whined

“I swear to god if he breaks your heart” She looked to the ceiling “I don’t care about my job at this point” She shrugged

“Stop it Nat” You shoved her shoulder “I-I told him I love him” Nat sat he coffee down and rushed over to you and hugged you

“My baby is growing up” You shoved her off “When you marry into my company get me a raise”

“Get in the shower before I punch you”

~

Bucky stood in line for a hot dog with T’Challa, Bucky had a grand idea the night before when he saw you with T’Challa last night, he wanted to see if T’Challa had a receptionist opening or something fro you. Bucky paid for lunch and T’Challa narrowed his eyes at his friend

What do you want Barnes”

“Nothing just wanted to have lunch with a friend. Hows business?”

“Busy, I lost my assistant and I’ve been having to read all the manuscripts myself” It was like a light bulb went off in Bucky’s head and T’Challa saw it 

“I have a proposition for you

“I’ve never really liked your ideas” T’Challa brushed him off

“Anyway” Bucky ignored him “You remember Y/N right?”

“Your girlfriend” T’Challa rolled his eyes

“She’s big into reading and literature, she could be your assistant” Bucky sat in anticipation, wringing his fingers as he waited for an answer

“What’s her degree in?” 

“She has a diploma” Bucky smiled convincingly 

“Bucky” T’Challa waved him off “She would never be able to be an assistant with no experience and no degree, I have post grad students who would kill for that position”

“Then why haven’t you hired anyone?” Bucky asked raising a brow

“BecauseI haven’t found the right one” T’Challa grumbled

“Just give her a chance” Bucky begged and T’Challa sighed 

“Fine”

TAGLIST: @skeletoresinthebasement @iamwarrenspeace @youreahandsomedevil @alina-barnes @xi-i-i-whatsyouremergency @ambivalence-is-me @101killer @stat89posts

[nefertittythegreat]

When We Once Were There

Years after their lives sent them apart Adrien and Marinette meet once again this time as the parents to two little girls.

I’ve been in love with fics like this lately for every fandom and I felt the Miraculous Fandom could use one more. So here’s my Single Parent AU!

AO3[x] Chapter 2[x]

Marinette found herself checking her watch over and over again during this meeting. She was careful to appear to pay attention to what the man was saying in front of the room, but she already knew what this was about. Blah, blah blah budget, blah blah blah brand integrity Blah Blah Blah Press conference. If she didn’t know any better she would have thought her boss sent her here as some cruel joke, but it was widely known that Gabriel Agreste didn’t have a sense of humor. She had already given her presentation on what was going to be the main theme from this year’s Spring line, with the prices on fabrics needed, but it seemed they needed her to stay for a portion that had nothing to do with her job. She longed to be back in her office, or at least wish she brought her sketchbook, but last time Nathalie had lightly scolded her. Still, Marinette couldn’t help but feel her mind wander, and wondered if she was the only one.  However it wasn’t just boredom plaguing her, Marinette had somewhere she needed to be.

“I think we get the point, Monsieur,” Nathalie said standing, signaling an end to the meeting. Marinette threw the woman a grateful look, and though Nathalie caught it she didn’t respond. “I’ll be sure to get all of these reports to Mr. Agreste. Though I can already say everything looks satisfactory. Let’s continue to make good of the Gabriel name, shall we? Good day.” At her words, everyone stood up and began filing out of the conference room. Marinette picked up her handbag, a Gabriel of course. and began to leave.

“Marinette,” Nathalie called causing Marinette to stop just short of the door. “Great work today, Mr. Agreste will be pleased.” Marinette fought a blush and thanked the woman. She was young, very young to be working this far up in the company, but Gabriel himself had kind of taken her under his wing. Marinette was grateful he did that, even considering her situation. “Mr. Agreste wants to know if you’ll be needing to leave work a little earlier with school in session now. He heard that Madam Paulette was giving you some trouble in regards to that.” The blush Marinette was fighting back with a vengeance as she felt her face turn crimson.

“No, no, no!” She exclaimed hoping not to cause any trouble. “We were able to work it out. I understand the kind of position I’m putting everyone through, even with my daughter I have to continue to pull your weight.” Marinette replied Nathalie’s expression, of course, did not change.

“Of course. As you know Mr. Agreste hired you knowing your situation at home and as someone who was a single parent himself, he does not want you to feel discriminated against at work and wants to be able to work with you around your daughter. Please if you have any more problems with Madame Paulette don’t hesitate to contact me. I’ll be able to straighten it out.” Nathalie responded before leaving the room. Marinette sighed. It was no secret Gabriel had taken an interest in her, and she hoped his apparent favoritism hadn’t caused anyone problems.

Marinette checked her watch one more time and heaved a sigh of relief. She should still make it on time to pick up Emma if she left now, Walking out of the room Marinette saw the Elevator filling with people. It would be a while before it was back and Marinette really needed to get to her car. “ Wait please!” She called out and began to run toward the elevator when she ran face first into something hard that sent her crashing into the ground. Dazed Marinette placed a hand to her now pounding head confused as to what just happened.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, Miss.” A masculine voice said to her, causing Marinette to curse her luck and her lack of coordination. “Let me help you up.” At least he was nice about it. Most men in this building would have berated her for running into them, Marinette grabbed his hand and he quickly helped her up

“Thank you so much-“ She went to thank him when she finally got a good look at the man she probably almost maimed. His hair was shorter then she had ever seen it, but she could recognize those green eyes anywhere, Adrien Agreste.

“Marinette?” He asked. Green eyes sparkling with joy. She was surprised he remembered her. They hadn’t seen each other since they graduated Lycée. She remembered he went off to model in America while she stayed and went to University. He never came back. Instead, he moved to Japan and got married.

“ Adrien! It’s uh... Good to see you again!” She said willing herself to do what she was never able to in Lycée, Hold a decent conversation with him.

“Yeah, it’s been years.” He laughed. “I didn’t know you worked for Gabriel. though I guess it does make sense. My father always did think you were very talented.” He said. Marinette blushed at the compliment. He hadn’t changed in all these years. Still the sweet boy she remembers.

“Yes, Mr. Agreste has been very kind to me the past few years. Are you here to see your father?” Marinette asked. She figured he was visiting him. Though Marinette can honestly say in the time she had been working here he never has, but she knew what their relationship had always been like.

“Umm… Yeah actually, Kinda?” He paused. " I work here now.” He revealed almost making Marinette’s jaw drop. “I moved back to Paris, and Father wants me to work on the business side of things. I guess as he’s getting older he’s more worried about his art. “

“That’s great. I guess we’ll be seeing each other around then.” Marinette smiled and tried not to panic.

“Yeah, I got to go see father, but let’s catch up another time, Marinette.” He walked away sparing her a wave which she returned. and Marinette found herself screaming inside her mind. Adrien Agreste was back in Paris working in the same building she was. If Marinette was 14 she’d be screaming for joy, but now all she could think about was how difficult working around him was going to be. She had loved him for years, and he had never noticed. Then he went off to America, then Japan, and married Kagami….

Oh...

Marinette had almost forgotten, but she couldn’t dwell on Adrien when she had her own problems like picking up Emma. Shaking her head clear of any thoughts regarding Adrien Agreste, Marinette walked out of Gabriel and to her car. She’d be at Emma’s school in no time.

“Father,” Adrien greeted as he stepped into Gabriel Agreste’s office.

“Ah, Adrien. I see you made here on time, good.” Adrien fought the urge to roll his eyes business as usual when dealing with his father. “Tomorrow I’ll be holding a press conference and introducing you as the new CFO to Gabriel and the public.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow, “You haven’t sent the news to the company about a new CFO. Father, that’s-“ Gabriel held up ahead silencing his son, and make Adrien feel like he was 14 again.

“I gave word to those who needed to know, but everyone else will learn about it at the press conference tomorrow.” He said, “ I’ll have Nathalie escort you to your office, and please remember that though I’m sympathetic with your situation I’m still expecting great things from you, Adrien.” Adrien felt his hands tighten to fist.

“Of course, Father,” Adrien said tightly and moved to follow the silent Nathalie out of the room. When they were clear of the room Adrien spoke to himself. “Why did I even bother coming back.” He spat hating the way his father made him feel.

“Well, I for one am grateful. This move was beneficial to you both.” Nathalie replied catching and pulling Adrien away from his thoughts. “And having your father be able to focus on Paris then you in Tokyo is going to do wonders for my nerves.” Adrien laughed a little at that, though he knows on some level it isn’t true. His father had been more attentive of him lately but he was sure it was going to pass soon. And Gabriel had never really worried about him in the way that Adrien thought was fatherly.

“Thank you, Nathalie. Out of this, at least being closer to you is a benefit.” Nathalie smiled in response

“Your daughter, Ayako, How is she?”

“She’s doing great! Handled the move like a pro, and she’s….” Adrien looked down at the watch on his wrist and noticed the time. “ At school! I’m sorry Nathalie I have to go get her!” Adrien said running down the hallway and to the Elevator. As he got in his phone buzzed with a message from Nathalie over all the things he needed to go over before tomorrow and the number of his office, and he ran toward his car barely stopping to thank the doorman and igniting the ignition as quickly as possible and thanked God for push starts. Soon he was out of the parking garage and on the street. The great thing about Ayako’s primary school was how close to the office it was. It made things easier when Adrien had a slip of the mind like this. He couldn’t believe he was late picking up his daughter on the first day. He hoped Ayako didn’t get on him too much.

Adrien pulled up to the school and quickly walked inside finding a receptionist who simply waved off his panic look and said it happened all the time before walking him outside to the other children in “Aftercare” as she called it was. It didn’t take him long to find Ayako or really for Ayako to find him.

“Daddy!” She ran up to up and hugged him by the legs with a shout. “I thought you forgot about me!” She said while staring up at him still holding his legs  "but Emma’s mommy said you’d be here soon and she even let Emma stay and wait with me! We played tag and-“

“Hold on, Aya. “ He said scooping up his child. “Okay from the beginning and who is Emma?” He asked with a laugh

“I made a friend!” Aya said proudly. “She’s nice, daddy. and she knows how to sing really well. In music class, she sounded better than everybody else and knew that a piano had strings in it!”

"Really now?” Adrien replied, happy that her first day was at least a happy one his late pick up excluded.

“Yup! Her mommy’s really nice too and waited with me too! Come meet them!” Aya kicked her legs asking to be let down and began to drag her father over to the small pavilion where he found a very familiar face one he had literally just run into.

“Well, I  did say we could catch up later, Marinette,” Adrien said as he stared at the woman he had just pumped into 30 minutes ago. This time he was able to get a better look at her. In Gabriel, he only saw bluebell eyes and freckles, that could belong only to her, but now he could see just how different she looked.  Her hair was longer then it had been in Lycée and she had clearly grown. Adrien noting how good she looked, but he always thought she was one of the prettiest girls in his class, though at the time he was more worried about Kagami. It was no surprise that Marinette had grown to become a beautiful woman. “I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Adrien said spying a small black haired girl hiding behind her mother’s pencil skirt.

"Yeah! This is Emma. Emma, sweetie, please say hi to mommy’s friend. Mr. Adrien.” Marinette pushed her daughter around her.

“Hi.” The girl responded softly and shyly.

“Emma it’s not shy time, This is my daddy. Remember I told you about how cool he was. He looks like the prince from the movie!”  Aya said stepping forward, trying to urge the girl out of her shell. It seemed to work.

“Are you a prince, like in the movies?” Emma asked with wide eyes. At this both Marinette and Adrien laughed.

“No Sweetie, but even I have to admit Mr. Adrien has always been very prince-like,” Marinette replied, causing Adrien to look up quickly at her. Prince-like? That was what she thought of him.

“Daddy, I didn’t know you knew Emma’s mommy?” Aya said confused.

“Daddy knows a lot of people, baby,” Adrien replied smirking at his daughter’s pout at his answer. “But in this case, I and Ms. Marinette went to school together.” Emma perked up at this.

“Like Me and Aya?” she asked. Marinette nodded.

“Yes, but we were a little older when we meet. Not as lucky as you two.” Marinette hooped her daughter’s nose, who giggled in response. It seemed being a parent suited Marinette not that Adrien was surprised. She had always taken care of everyone around her. Being a mother suited her.

“Mommy,” Emma pulled on her mother’s red pencil skirt. “Can Aya and I play some more?” Marinette quickly looked back up at Adrien then down again at her daughter.

“I don’t think so sweetie, I’m sure Mr. Adrien is very busy. You can play with Aya another time.”

“Dame!” Aya grabbed her father’s hand, “Daddy, please let me play with Aya more! I’ll never ask for anything ever!”

“Me too!” Emma grabbed his other hand, “Please Mr. Adrien?” With both of them giving him puppy dog eyes Adrien could feel his resolve shrinking.

“Well, I don’t have to go back to the office.” Adrien scratched the back of his head. "If your free Marinette, we could go to the park, get some ice cream. I did promise that we would catch up.” at this both girls turned their attention to Marinette freeing Adrien from the hot seat.

“Ice Cream!” Emma shouted “Please Mommy!!”

“Yes, Emma’s mommy, can we go get ice cream then play together!” With both girls pleading at her Marinette turned to glare at Adrien who had the gall to look as innocent as possible. How could she say no when they were both begging like this. It wasn’t like she had to get back to the office either.

“You know what, ice cream sounds great.” Marinette smiled at Adrien. Her heart melts as the two girls cry in delight. How could she have said no to that? Seeing the two spin around in joy was worth staying out a little later.

It was a short walk to the park and the ice cream man. The line was short, which was rare as he had a tendency to be very popular. The park as a whole was quieter then it had been in a while. Marinette was expecting more children as it was after school now, but it seemed she was wrong. It was very peaceful. Adrien pulled out his wallet and handed his daughter a few bills, "Go and get you and Emma some Ice Cream, Okay?” Aya smiled up at her father, Before nodding and running off with Emma.

“Thanks for that, Adrien, but I could have paid for Emma’s ice cream,” Marinette said as she sat down on the bench.

“It’s just ice cream, and I’m not exactly hurting for money,” Adrien shrugged. “But how have you been? It’s been what 11- 12 years.?”

“Yeah, you went to university in America right?” That was the last time they saw each other, freshly 18, out of lycée, and heading out into the world. It was where Marinette’s 4-year crush had to die, and where their friendship came to an end.

“Yeah,” Adrien rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. A habit that he had done for years when he was feeling uncomfortable. "I should have kept in contact better.”

“It’s okay, It wasn’t like we were super close anyway.” Not for Marinette’s lack of trying though, “You kept in touch with Nino though. He always told Alya and me how you were doing. Besides I’m sure America was good for you. To get away from… everything here.” Adrien’s smile left, as he sighed. His home life as a kid was never really a secret especially to his friends, and Marinette was one of them.

“Yeah, it was good for me. Kagami was the one who’d convince me to…” Adrien trailed off. It was easy to forget, especially at times like this when he was remembering the past.

Marinette placed a hand on his shoulder. “I heard about….” Marinette searched for the right words, but she wasn’t sure she had them. “I’m so sorry, Adrien. I can’t even imagine. what you’ve been through.” When Nino had gotten the news about the accident, he’d flown to Japan immediately to help Adrien. Alya and Marinette had helped him packed. From what Nino told him, Adrien had been in rough shape, but that was almost 2 years ago. And Nino hadn’t even told them Adrien was moving back to Paris. She assumes he hadn’t known

“Thank you…” Adrien Brushed his hair away from his eyes, and that was when Marinette noticed that a scar on his eyebrow hidden by his hair. A permanent reminder. “I’m becoming okay again. I have someone else who needs me after all. I couldn’t completely fall apart.”

“I guess that’s true,” She acknowledged.

“Besides Moving back to Paris is going to be great!” Adrien said bringing a smile to his face. " I’m back where my friends and family are. And I think Aya will love it here. This is her first time in Paris. I’m honestly so impressed with her. Her French had always been good, but she prefers Japanese. I thought for sure she wouldn’t speak it too much when we got here, but she’s really blown my expectations out of the water with how she’s assimilated. Honestly, I uprooted her to a completely different culture, but then again she was a little forward for Japan. Kagami used to say she gets that from me, but I’ve never really seen it.” This piqued Marinette’s interest. Adrien had always been reserved, sweet to a fault but reserved. Foreward wasn’t a word she would use to describe him. Kagami, however, was always very forthcoming about her feelings for Adrien, Unlike Marinette herself. Marinette often wished she had Kagami’s confidence.

“But what’s your story these past few years. I mean it seems you’ve got everything you wanted, A designing job at Gabriel, and a beautiful daughter. Though I would have thought  you would have been married by now.”Adrien's hand flew up as the words flew out of his mouth Adrien realized what he had said. He had noticed the lack of ring on her finger and assumed. He was trying to restart his friendship with Marinette now he probably ruined. “I Swear I didn’t mean it like! -“ He started but stopped at the sound of her laughter. She was laughing harder then he had seen her laugh in over a decade. A true genuine laugh that was infectious and soon made Adrien start to laugh too. When was the last time he had laughed like this? It had to have been since before the accident. It had been a while since he had said something like that so true to his inner thoughts too.

“I’m sorry.” Marinette wheezed in between laughs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…. “ She searched for the words. her yeas rolling looking for the right word. “Panicked. You’ve always said the right thing. It’s nice to see the other side, the side that’s a little more human.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow, “Well, I’m far from perfect….” He hadn’t realized he portrayed that sort of image to Marinette, that certainly did explain her prince comment from earlier. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make it sound like….” He trailed off unsure of how to make this any less awkward.

“Hey,” She waved him off. “It’s fine, and nothing worse then what I hear from my mother on a weekly basis.” Marinette rolled her eyes, “And being married was something I’ve wanted since school. Everyone in our class knew about my dream to marry have a nice house with a picket fence 2 sons, a daughter, a dog, and a hamster. It wasn’t that big of a secret, no matter how hard I tried to keep it that way.” Marinette mused back to her old self in school. She was so... 14. Yes, she was a fourteen year old with far too big of a crush, and too much time on her hands. “But to answer your question, Life isn’t what you dream of at 14. It’s a lot…Harder. And I made some decisions most of them bad but a few good ones, and I can say Emma was the best of them, even if don’t have all those things I dreamed up as a kid.”

Adrien watched Marinette as she looked out her eyes finding her daughter and the smile that graced her lips were something he hadn’t seen in a while, but something he knew. A mother’s love. A parent’s love, hell he looked at his kid the same way.

“I will say Emma was not part of the plan, but I loved her, and I always wanted a kid anyway. I just had to do it on my own. Sure it was scary, but she’s worth it.” Marinette had said a lot and had said nothing at all. It had made Adrien curious, but he wasn’t going to force her to open up to him. After all, they hadn’t seen each other in 12 years.

“I understand,” Adrien replied earnestly. He opened his mouth to ask her about how her parents were doing when A familiar shout came from the playground that made both he and Marinette stand. They both rushed over, but it was Adrien who got there first his height playing to his advantage, where he found Emma cradling her forearm, and Aya trying to calm the wailing girl down though she looked to be on the verge of tears herself

“Hey, girls, what happened? Are you alright?” He asked, but suddenly found himself narrated with wails and Aya trying to explain despite being panic. It was mostly a mesh of Japanese and French that Adrien could barely understand over Emma’s cries. It seemed right now he wasn’t gonna learn anything until he got Emma to calm down. Adrien crouched and pulled Emma into his lap an Automatic reaction to seeing a girl his daughter’s age crying. He was worried if she had broken her arm.

“Hey, Emma?” He said gently. “I see you hurt your arm. Can I take a look at it.” Emma looked at him hesitantly at first but stopped wailing at least, and held out her arm with a nod. Ah, There was the source of the crying. I large scratch going up Emma’s forearm, more than likely from a rock. Poor thing it looked like it hurt, but at least it wasn’t bleeding heavy. Luckily Aya was known for being a little more than rambunctious and he always had Bandaids on him. He reached in his pocket pulling out some Neosporin and bandaids. “This is going to help okay, but it might sting a little. Is that Okay?” He asked. Emma sniffled now the crying was coming to an end, but she nodes once more, and Adrien began to bandage her arm. Just as he was finished Marinette finally caught up, not that he could blame her, she wasn’t exactly mobile in her pencil skirt and heels.

“Is everything ok? Emma!” She said noticing the decent size bandaid on her daughter's arm. She crouched to her daughter’s level who immediately jumped out of Adrien’s grasp and to her mothers. “Emma, what happened to your arm?”

Adrien stood dusting his pants off, "I think she fell and scraped her arm on a rock. Don’t worry I disinfected it and wrapped it up. She’ll be fine, it wasn’t even really bleeding. I think it was the shock if anything.” Adrien places his hands in his pocket as he watched Marinette pull Emma close and whisper something in her ear.

Marinette smiled, “Talk about super dad. You just happen to carry Bandaids and disinfectant on you?” Marinette asked impressed. Not even she did that.

Adrien shrugged, “let’s just say Aya is a little more accident-prone than normal and leave it at that.”

“Well thank you, Adrien,” Marinette said. “Emma what do you say to Mr. Adrien for helping you with your arm.”

“Thank you, Mr. Adrien,” Emma said shyly. A trait she must have gotten from her mother. Remembering their earlier conversation Adrien swept himself into a gallant bow

“It is always an honor to help royalty like you, Princess Emma.” The excited gasp he heard from her was enough to make him smile.

“I think It’s probably time to head home now.” Marinette stood up with Emma still in her arms. “It’s been great Adrien. Let’s do this again sometime.” She said. “Say goodbye to Mr. Adrien and Ayako, Emma”

"Bye-bye,” She waved as her mother turned and began to walk back in the direction of their car. Adrien and Aya returned the farewell while watching the mother and daughter leave. Adrien couldn’t believe today, both he had Marinette were parents to girls in the same class, coincidence didn’t even express how amazing that was. Not to mention, it seemed they still got along as they did in Lycée. He was lucky. When he left Paris 12 years ago. He didn’t want to come back. While school had been fun thanks to Nino and Kagami, and Marinette he still had too many bad memories and not to mention his father around that made staying in Paris not ideal. When Kagami asked him to go to America with her, he hasn’t hesitated, but he realized how much he missed. The lives of the friends he had just left here, Marinette had a child and he was sure other’s from Lycée were parents too. He couldn’t believe it. He should have kept in touch better, but that was in the past and he couldn’t change it now. he could, however, learn from it.

"Hey, Marinette!” He called making the two stop and turn around. He ran over to them a confused Aya following behind him. “look I know you have to get to work pretty early and actually most mornings I get into the office after the girls are in school. and I’m pretty sure you’ll get off before me, so How about we work together in this single parents helping each other out.” He said, “I can take the girls to school and you can pick them up starting tomorrow and when I get off I can get Aya from.” He offered. This would save him in the afternoons. He couldn’t get out at 2:30 obviously going by what happened today, but Marinette had made it with enough time to spare. “What do you say?”

Marinette bit her lip. Dropping off Emma in the morning early to Adrien’s would take a load off her shoulder’s and it wasn’t like he was a stranger either. He was another working parent trying to make this work. It couldn’t hurt, and it meant Madame Paulette would get off her back if she should up early like she was supposed to.

“Deal.” She said, “on one condition.” She added milking Adrien’s confused expression. “I need your phone number.”

He sighed in relief, “Of course” He said before pulling out his phone and reciting his number to her. Which she did back to him as well. “So, I’ll see you in the morning then. “

“Yup, and don’t forget to text me your address,” Marinette said with a wave before departing. 

Yeah, something inside Adrien’s gut told him this move was going to be a good thing.

Next Chapter[x]

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Secret Identity

I one hundred percent blame this on @magellan-88 for sticking the thought in my head. I’m sure it was you, but if it wasn’t you’ve plot bunnied me with things before so take the blame. Then I watched Ghostbusters, and this happened. Edit: it was @mywildestdreamings fault, though I'm still pretty sure Maggie had something to do with it.

“So you just work there, in a pair of eyeglasses and a different hairdo and no one has figured out you’re Superman?”

Clark shook his head. “People believe what they want to believe. They can’t imagine the mild-mannered, slightly stuttering, occasional fraidy cat Clark Kent is Superman.”

“That’s incredible.” Thor crossed his arms and peered out over the city of New York. “People truly don’t see it?”

“Sometimes they look at you funny, but the human mind is very good at dismissing things that don’t make sense.”

Thor turned to the other floating superhero who’d been passing through on his way back to Metropolis and held out his hand. Clark gripped his forearm tightly, and Thor returned the gesture. “Thank you, my friend. Fair thee well in your city.”

“And yours, Thor of Asgard. It is... nice to know I am not the only alien on Earth any longer. But keep that brother of yours out of trouble for a while?”

“I make no promises,” Thor chuckled as Clark flew away. He hung there thoughtfully for some time, thinking about secret identities. What would he need to do to fool the public into thinking he wasn’t himself?

“I’d need a new name.” He stroked his beard and frowned. “And a shave.” His hair was already cut shorter than the people were used too. “Yes,” he smiled. “I can do this.”

***

The other’s had all laughed at him when he said he was going to develop a secret identity, but he wasn’t deterred. He was so undeterred he was standing outside the round door of the shop above the Chinese food place. From the smell, he wasn’t certain he would ever want to eat there.

He adjusted his glasses, accidentally sticking his finger in his eye. Sure he didn’t have to clean the darn things anymore - how did Clark put up with them - but he kept poking himself without the barrier of the lenses. He also felt ridiculously underdressed. The purple shirt and maroon tie were one thing, but the uncomfortably tight jeans with the rolled up cuff and the shoes Tony had call “loafers” were another. Then there were the green coat and the “man bag,” but he let those go, figuring it would help throw people further off the scent.

He wasn’t Thor anymore. Now he was Kevin.

He gave the wood frame a tentative knock. It looked not at all sturdy. The woman with the reddish brown hair looked up, and Thor smiled as he walked in the door. “Hey, uh, I’m here about the receptionist job?” That was a simple position, right? He couldn’t possibly get in too much trouble, and to make sure no one recognized him, he deepened his accent.

Natasha had snorted and commented that he sounded Australian, whatever that meant, so he'd thought it successful.

She turned flustered. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Now he was flustered.

The blond with the yellow glasses murmured, “Is this a big ol' robot,” while grinning at her colleague.

The first woman made an odd sound. “What?”

He shifted uncomfortably but forged ahead. Was the woman daft? “The receptionist job, um. It was in the paper here.”

“You’re hired!” she said and laughed, still flustered.

He grinned a little, realizing she was attracted to him in his secret identity. Was that common? He hadn’t thought to ask Clark if he had that problem. But then Thor was the God of Fertility. Sex appeal just... happened.

Another woman walked in, shorter, darker, wearing a pair of glasses not at all dissimilar to his own, right past him as if he wasn’t there and joined the first woman. “Okay, hey. God, you’re all sweaty. I think I got it. If there’s something strange in- ow,” she huffed when the first woman jabbed the brunette in the side and motioned toward him. “Oh. Kevin, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Abby. We spoke on the phone,” she smiled and held out her hand.

“We did.” Thor smiled back and relaxed a little, shaking it before adjusting the strap on his annoying bag. At least one of them seemed to have a brain.

“Hello there. Okay.” She turned back to the first woman.

“Kevin, oh. That’s a manly name. My name’s Erin, with an E, for everything you want.”

Odin’s beard... What was he getting himself into?

“Okay,” Abby said, clearly dismissing her weird friend. “Well, we should probably, probably get started. Erin.” She motioned her friend over. “Erin, do you want to join us?”

“Yes,” Erin sighed. “Erin... I’ve got some questions.”

He could practically hear her panties melt. Thor tried not to sigh in exasperation as he followed Abby, and was followed by Erin and the blonde to a table. This could be a very long day. Shrugging out of his coat, Thor placed it on the back of his chair with his bag and sat facing the three women.

Abby flipped open a notebook. “Okay, here we go, let me just get to my notes, um, okay. First off I just want to say-”

“You know,” Erin interrupted, “we should probably start with a very important question that we’re asking all of the applicants, um, you know, are you seeing anyone, uh, right now?” she smiled oddly.

Abby cleared her throat and made as if she were pushing up her glasses but really elbowed Erin in the shoulder.

“Um, seeing anyone?” Had the woman no grasp on how to be subtle in her inquiries?

“Yeah, just for business purposes,” Erin murmured.

“Business purposes only,” Abby muttered.

He decided now was a good time to play dumb and gestured at the ladies. “I’m seeing all three of you in front of me.”

Abby laughed and raised her hands. “Just forget she even asked. If she did, that would be illegal.”

He liked this one. Loyal, but not inebriated by her base instincts. “So forgotten.”

The blonde shifted to lean across the table. “Uh, Jillian Holtzman Radio Times. Uh, what have you been doing with your whole life?”

“That’s a great question,” Erin agreed, her hand lifting to stroke a finger along her jaw.

Abby appeared utterly exasperated.

“Oh, well, um lots of different jobs, um,” he reached up and scratched the corner of his eye, forgetting about his lens-free glasses. “I did the,” he held up finger quotes, “actor thing, uh, works alright.” He adjusted the frames.

Abby made a T sign with her hands, which, thankfully, Thor new from the many times Tony had made the same gesture. “Just real quick, um, can I ask why no, no glass?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Shit! “They just kept getting dirty, so I took them out. Don’t have to clean them anymore.” He fiddled with them a little and tucked them back on his face.

“I gotta try that in mine,” Abby murmured, but he could tell she thought he was a blithering idiot.

Well, if he were going to be labelled pretty and stupid, he would play pretty and stupid. “Would it be okay if I bring my cat to work sometimes? He has major anxiety problems.”

“You know what?” Abby twisted her fingers together, appearing apologetic. “I would love to let your cat live here with you, but I have a pretty severe cat allergy.”

Time to go for broke. He fought to keep his face serious. “Oh, I don’t have a cat. It’s a dog. His name is my cat.”

Both Abby and Erin looked at him in confusion, while Jullian seemed highly amused. “Your dog’s name is my cat?” Abby clarified.

Thor smiled a little. “Mike Hat.”

“Your dog’s name is Mike, last name Hat?” Erin asked.

He could see some of the attraction fading right before his eyes. Loki would be in stitches if he were here. It was a trick worthy of his brother. “His full name is Michael Hat.”

Abby made a small gesture with her hands, clearly a little confused and uncertain how to deal with him. “I can’t say that I’m allergic to dogs so...”

Thor shrugged and looked down at the table. “Yeah, that’s alright. He lives with my mum.”

“Well, then we have that figured out.” Abby and Erin looked back down at the notebook. “One down, no cat.” Thor chewed on his bottom lip, finding this far more amusing than he should. “But you know what, I say let’s jump ahead, ah, Kevin,” Abby pointed with both hands at him while looking between her two co-workers,” dabbles in web design, and I asked him to throw together maybe a couple of logos for us.”

“You wanna...?” he asked. Peter had given him a crash course in the art of design, and he thought he’d done alright on their primitive Midgardian technology.

“This is your moment,” Abby said. “Pull it out.”

“Ooh,” Erin murmured only for Abby to throw her a glare.

“You’re like a lawsuit waiting to happen,” Abby hissed at her.

Thor fought off another snicker as he opened the laptop and turned it toward them.

“Here we go, okay.”  Abby leaned closer.

“So,” he cleared his throat. “What do you think of that?”

The female ghost had enormous breasts, as seemed to be the way with all Midgardian feminine media design. He wasn’t quite sure what these ladies did, but it had something to do with ghosts, and as they were female, he thought they would appreciate his effort.

“Oh.” Erin looked shocked.  Abby looked impressed but speechless. “Yeah. You do see how this might make us look bad, right?” Erin asked, her face contorting into a grimace.

“Uh... is it the boobs you don’t like? Cuz I can make them bigger,” he offered.

“I can see them, yeah,” Erin murmured.

Jillian’s expression morphed to mirror the other two women. “Ghost tits was my nickname in middle school.”

“Is that right?” He smiled and nodded. It was always good to humour the crazy ones.

“I can definitely see them. You know what I think?” Abby held up her hands. Thor noted she spoke with them quite a lot. “It’s not always about the end result; it's about the journey.”

“Well, uh what about this?” He gave the screen a click, bringing up the next image.

“Oh, ahh,” Erin pointed at the screen. “I think that... I think that that’s already a thing.”

He bent to look at the screen. “What? Seven one one?”

Abby’s teeth were slightly gritted. “It’s seven eleven.”

“Oh, well, I’ve got other options.” He clicked through to the next picture.

“Please,” Abby muttered.

“Haha! That’s one is my favourite.” He grinned broadly.

“Uh, I think you might have made a mistake, I don’t think that one’s for us,” Erin said.

“Oh, no. That’s for you.” He really was beginning to think this one had very little brain. “You know, I just thought that the floating hot dog implies that the ghost is holding it.” He lifted his hands in a demonstration.

“Ah,” Abby sighed, bringing her linked fingers to her chin. “Your work is more cerebral than I expected.”

“I still have so many questions about that choice,” Jillian added. “The first one is why a hot dog?”

Thor gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. I just like ‘em.”

Abby huffed a little gasp of surprise.

“Both food groups, all in one.” He held up one hand and then the other. “Dogs and buns.”

All three women looked at him with smiles and nods. Clearly, he was making a positive impression.

“Um, those are great,” Erin nodded. “We‘re actually going to, um, discuss everything just for a second so could you,” she pointed toward the corner, “go stand over there? We just need to talk for a moment.”

“Sure.” He smiled and pushed to his feet, wandering toward the fish tank.

“Don’t listen,” Erin laughed strangely.

“I won’t.” He covered his eyes just to drive home his less than smart persona, then went and messed around with the counter and the fish tank. Yes, he could listen if he chose to, but it felt wrong to do so as Kevin, so he patiently waited for their verdict.

He wondered why there was a phone in the fish tank. “You know an aquarium is a submarine for fish,” he said offhandedly when he caught them all staring at him. Then wandered over to where a gong hung on a stand.

The mallet was right there. He’d never been one to pass up the opportunity to swing a hammer and smacked the gong. When it rang loudly, he quickly covered his eyes again, sticking two fingers from each hand through the frames of his glasses. “God that’s loud, huh?”

“That’s loud,” both Abby and Erin agreed.

“Kevin?” He looked up to find Abby smiling at him. “You’ve got the job.”

“Welcome aboard!” Erin added.

“Cool! Can I bring my suitcases up?”

“Yup, you sure can,” Abby nodded.

Great.” Thor headed out the door, wondering if it was common on Midgard to live where you worked. Jane had. The Avengers did. And now here with the strange science ladies.

Least he’d packed a few suitcases just to be safe.

***

And that’s how Thor ended up the receptionist for the Ghostbusters. Though I guarantee Roland wouldn't have possessed him.

[therandomfics]

Chances Are... 3

Monday mornings were you least favorite thing other than Sunday nights. Monday mornings meant a fresh week ahead of you with endless possibilities for disappointment and frustration. Sure, it was ridiculous to look at it with such a pessimistic lens but it was Monday. You couldn’t expect very much more from yourself.

At least you had your ritual - and no one, not even a new career or a new route to work could ruin that.

Every morning on the way to work, you stopped and got yourself a large black coffee, a handful of sugar packets, and one toasted everything bagel. Then, and only then, would you try to see things from a more pleasant point of view. You’d been stopping at the same shop since you moved into your apartment, and even after you and your treacherous ex had split up, you still stopped by every morning, without fail. The barista had grown to be a somewhat friend of yours, and if you ever shook your order up she would have been flabbergasted. Every morning when you walked in, she started pouring your cup to go and toasting your bagel. It was the one thing you knew you could count on every morning.

With your bagel and coffee ready to go, you headed back out onto the street and made your way to your office. Monday you had interviews set up until lunch, and then client visits from 1pm until 5pm, when you clocked out on your phone and hopped on the subway to go home. It wasn’t that Monday was so bad, it was just the promise of Tuesday through Friday that made Monday seem so terribly awful.

At 11:45 when your last interview of the morning left, your office support popped her head into your office and frowned.

“Hey, Y/N, Pam called,” she said with a soft sigh. Pam was your sales rep for the area, and when she called it usually meant that you were about to go on an adventure.

“Thanks, Lissa. I’ll give her a call back,” you said with a half-smile. Your stomach growled and you looked at the clock on your monitor. Fifteen minutes.

You dialed Pam and waited for her to pick up, absently tapping your fingertips on the desk.

“This is Pam.”

“Hey, it’s Y/N. What’s going on?”

Pam laughed on the other end of the phone. “I have a new client for us. I need you to swing by with me at 1:30. I’ll text you the address. It’s like a ten minute walk from the office.”

“Sounds great. See you then,” you concluded, and waited for her to say goodbye before you hung up.

Your cell pinged a moment later and you opened the message from Pam, clicked on the address and let your GPS do its job. It pulled up the Manhattan Precinct of the NYPD. More specifically, SVU. You knew what it meant vaguely. Your nose wrinkled for a moment at the thought of needing to staff anything in a police station. What could it possibly be? A janitor? A receptionist? You shrugged to yourself and clocked out a few minutes early, slipping from your office and down to the local deli to grab a bite. You’d save the suspense for when you weren’t off the clock.

“Hey you,” Pam greeted you warmly, smiling from her spot just inside of the building.

“Hey, Pam,” you said with a smile, hurrying forward to catch a ride up with her on the elevator. “What are we staffing for?”

As the doors closed she turned to you and smiled, her classic toothy grin that could have meant a number of things. “They’re looking for a secretary for the unit. Their last one quit unexpectedly and they’re in no position to find one themselves right now.”

You nodded understandingly and silenced your phone, shoving it in your pocket. “Fair enough. Who are we meeting?”

“Their HR representative will be meeting us in the squad room to go over what they’re looking for.”

“Exciting.” The doors opened and you followed Pam out, close on her heels as she made her way down the hall and straight into the open space of desks and what you assumed were interrogation rooms.

“Hi, I’m Pamela Whistley. I’m here to speak with Donna, your head of HR about filling an open position,” Pam told the guard at the front desk.

“Thank God,” he replied with a laugh. “I’m sick of sitting here all day.”

He disappeared down a hallway and emerged a moment later with a slender blonde woman who appeared to be in her late forties, in a pressed business suit and heels that clicked along the floor. Suddenly you felt under dressed in your flats and your khakis.

“I’m Donna. It’s nice to meet you,” she said with an extended hand. Both you and Pam shook her hand and greeted her, introducing yourselves. She beckoned you down the hall and seated you in a brightly lit room with a two way mirror. “Don’t mind that. It’s inevitable.”

Donna sat down across from you and Pam, pulling out a folder that contained a contract that Pam had already written up and sent over. She discussed the different requirements that the department had for secretaries, the work history she was looking to see, skills and personality traits, as well as the education expectations the department had in place. When she was done speaking and you were done jotting down notes, you asked your questions about interviewing on site, pay, dates of hire, and the term.

Finally, everyone had the information they were requesting and the meeting was coming to a close. You handed Donna several of your business cards and told her to share them with her contacts in the event that they were looking for temporary staffing as well.

“Absolutely!” Donna said cheerfully. “We work with the District Attorney’s office a lot. Maybe they can use you guys, too.”

“That would be great!” you said, beaming. “We’re always looking for more opportunities to branch out. Give me a call if you need anything. In the mean time I’ll work on setting up interviews.”

By the time you left SVU, it was nearly 4PM. You made it back to the office in time to finish some background reports and answer a few emails, then you called it a day. Your apartment was calling your name.

Back at the apartment building, you rode up to your floor and headed to the safety and quietness of your home. As you were pushing the door open to head inside, Peter’s door opened abruptly. It was almost as if he had been waiting for you - well, you’d hoped, anyway. Instead, he was on his way out, still wearing his work clothes. His tie was a little looser than you’d assumed it started that morning, but he still looked so put together. Maybe a little stressed, but you weren’t even sure what he did for work. Maybe he was in a high stress position.

“Hey,” you called out as he locked his door and turned to face you.

He smiled and hesitated, clasping his keys in his hand. “Hey, Y/N. Just getting home?”

“Another busy day in paradise,” you said with a short laugh. “Are you just.. leaving for work?”

He shook his head with a soft laugh. “No, just heading back to the office. I forgot my laptop and I’ve got a meeting in the morning I need to prep for.”

“Oh, of course. Well I won’t keep you,” you insisted and lingered in the doorway to your apartment.

“Do..” he started, but stopped and pursed his lips together. His face was stern but sincere. “Nevermind. Hey, I’ll see you later.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Peter.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[cntcrtainmcnt-blog]

(&wanted connections)

*this will be updated often, as I try to always have at least 2 open connections for each of my characters.

**three asterisks beside a connection means i’m open to having multiple people filling it

Current Disponible Connections: 156

Spreadsheet of currently taken connections

ALESSANDRA “SANDY” CARAVALHO

23, actress, panromantic asexual, Camila Mendes fc.

costars: could be from the past, present or future, and how they get along can be discussed ***

ex: preferably not on good terms, but can be discussed

people trying to sleep with her, but she doesn’t want to ***

ALYSSA MULLINS

24, stripper, pansexual, Carlson Young fc.

childhood acquaintance: maybe someone that lived in the same town, or they met through her dad being mayor of the town

coworkers ***

flirts ***

potentially serious relationship: I’m open to having this happen at one point

AMBER JACKSON

27, vigilante barista, pansexual, Emily Borwning fc.

coworkers ***

vigilante friend: her friends don’t know about this side of her, but I’d love if there was someone who knew, kind of a partner?

ANDREI PETRAN

31, cop, heteroflexible, Sebastian Stan fc.

coworkers ***

drinking buddy(ies) ***

know through work ***

someone trying to help him kick his alcoholism

wife or ex-wife

ANGELICA CAIN

30, criminal company owner, bisexual, Crystal Reed fc.

allies: people she helps, or helping her ***

enemies ***

relationship: not saying anything precise, but i’m imagining she’s seeing someone, but she’s scared if she gets too close, they might get hurt, that kind of deal

subordinates: she is the leader of a crime ring, so I suppose she has a few people she bosses around ***

ANNA TAYLOR

32, high school teacher, bisexual, Emilia Clarke fc.

childhood/school friends: she grew up in Kola, but then moved to NYC, so any friends she met while still in Kola ***

coworkers ***

NYC friends/acquaintances: people she met while in NYC ***

ANTHONY POWELL

44, criminal, heteroflexible, Skeet Ulrich fc.

neighbor: he lives in a small house, but I just think it’d be interesting if he had a prying neighbor, that might get too close to his business?

people in the Russian mafia with him ***

BEATRIZ OLIVEIRA

36, tattoo artist, bisexual, Morena Baccarin fc.

customers ***

gang members: she’s not part of the gang, exactly, but she does pretty much all of their tattoos now ***

BEVERLY JORDAN

24, cashier, pansexual, Vanessa Morgan fc.

boss

coworkes: she’s a cashier in a clothing shop ***

regulars: people who come to the shop often ***

BIANCA RUTHERFORD

25, hacker, homosexual, Caitlin Stasey fc.

customers: she really does any kind of hacking job, so whatever you need, she might be your girl ***

non-serious flirts: probably just girls she flirts with for fun *** 

serious flirt: she doesn’t like commitment but maybe there’s one girl she could be serious with?

targets: she loves to seduce men and later on destroy their reputation, so bring me all the men you want destroyed ***

BRADLEY HINES

30, assassin/spy to hire elementary school teacher, bisexual, Zane Holtz fc.

covers: I’m thinking people he pays to make his cover as an elementary school believable ***

employer: the one that hired him for that job

CAROLINA TANNER

23, literature/cinematography double major, pansexual, Freya Mavor fc.

classmates ***

crush ***

friends of her deceased twin ***

party buddies ***

semi serious crush: she’s still a fightened virgin, but she feels it might be seirous enough with that person for her to give it up? but she’s very scared

CATHERINE WOLFE

30, event planner, bisexual, Leighton Meester fc.

best friend

customers ***

ex see wc on the main

younger sister see wc on the main

CECELIA ROSE

26, writer, pansexual, Shailene Woodley fc.

crush/flirt

ex mentor see wc on the main

fans ***

high school friends ***

writer buddies ***

CHARLES MYERS

29, police officer, bisexual, Matthew Daddario fc.

ex: maybe from high school, or college, or whatever

geek buddies: he doesn’t show it often anymore but bring me a bunch of geek friends and they just talk movies and series and comics together ***

CLARITA “CLARA” ESTEVEZ

34, criminal investigator, bisexual, Melissa Fumero fc.

best friend: maybe recent? maybe since they were kids?

coworker/flirt/crush: like... Peraltiago kind of thing

roommate: she’s very clean and organized, I just want someone that... isn’t

CLINT FRAZIER

37, zoologist, bisexual, Chris Pratt fc.

coworkers: anyone who might work at the zoo with him, or other zoologists ***

friends: most likely ex friends since he’s dissociated himself from most human relationships ***

siblings *** see wc on the main

CORA STEVENSON

27, unemployed, pansexual, Summer Bishil fc.

best frienemy: bring the Nicole Richie to her Paris Hilton

ex ***

flirt ***

frenemy ***

party buddy(ies) ***

CORDELIA PARKINSON

26, hairdresser, bisexual, Sarah Hyland fc.

co workers ***

crush

customers ***

step brother see wc on the main

DARLENE HART

26, nurse, heterosexual, Aimee Teegarden fc.

brother see wc on the main

coworkers ***

ex see wc on the main

friend: someone she would’ve met after arriving in Kola and it’s probably her closet friend here

DARREN BATES

23, model, homosexual, Ryan McCartan fc.

friends: he’s very sociable despite being sometimes “boring”, I imagine he has a bunch of friends ***

model buddies ***

on/off boyfriend see wc on the main

EBONY NASSRY

23, camgirl, pansexual, Jade Thirlwall fc.

flirt

rival: bring me another camgirl/boy? and they’re fighting for the number one spot

roommate

watchers ***

EDWARD “EDDIE” HALE

23, confectionery co-owner, bisexual, Luke Benward fc.

tba

ELENA RICHMOND

21, unemployed, pansexual, Alycia Debnam-Carey fc.

close friend

past foster siblings: she was in and out of families because she was a brat, so I imagine she had a good amount of foster siblings ***

someone she could possibly develop feelings for

someone training her so she could prove herself and join the mafia like her brother

EMELY LINDNER

31, model, pansexual, Alexandra Daddario fc.

close friend

crush

dance buddy: someone she would occasionally do ballet with

half sister see wc on the main

model friends ***

EMMA VELAZQUEZ

26, sports shop owner, bisexual, Lindsey Morgan fc.

ex teammates: she played at a high level in soccer, so people she played with or against ***

flirt: she rarely opens up, but someone that tries to get to her heart please and thanks

regulars at her shop ***

ETHAN DUNN

25, underground boxer unemployed, bisexual, Gregg Sulkin fc.

bar fights: I just imagine he gets into bar fights often ***

drinking buddies ***

EVAN RENDALL

32, motel owner, bisexual, Harry Lloyd fc.

customers ***

ex: I dunno, I just... I kinda want that? Probably happened and ended before his father’s murder so now he’s much different

high school classmates: he never really had friends, but acquaintances for sure ***

people who do their “business” at his motel ***

possible victims ***

FELICIA PORTER

26, journalist, pansexual, Elizabeth Olsen fc.

best friend

coworkers ***

FINLAY AINSWORTH

28, waiter, pansexual, Jack Falahee fc.

coworkers ***

ex: probably someone he was with just before going to rehab

regular customer(s) ***

FLORENCE KNEEN

22, film director, bisexual, Madelaine Petsch fc.

anyone in the film industry that could’ve worked with her: producers, editors, actors, music, etc. ***

bad influence

crush ***

flirtationship: not quite a friendship, not quite a crush?

friend ***

movie buddies ***

GAIL ERICKSON

35, artist, bisexual, Katie McGrath fc.

clients: either for her legal or illegal work ***

employees: probably people she hires to help at her gallery ***

flings ***

flirt: could be serious or not, but she’s been single for a long time

GENESIS FERRER

37, company owner, bisexual, Zoe Saldana fc.

business partners: people who employ her ocmpany to protect their business, house, whatever ***

employees: security guards working for her firm ***

flirt

GENEVIEVE “G” BAKER

25, receptionist, pansexual, Kaya Scodelario fc.

coworkers: I’m thinking she works as a receptionist for a company, so anyone who works there? ***

crush/flirt: something that could be serious? also someone that’s very kind and caring, unlike her ex

roommate: she arrived not long ago and really needed a place to stay, and your muse had an open room or something

GREYSON KALUA

37, landscape architect, bisexual, Jason Momoa fc.

customers ***

friends: from school, through work, any way they could’Ve met, bring them all ***

JANET MONTROSE

38, secretary/thief, pansexual, Evangeline Lilly fc.

high school friends: could be interesting since she doesn’t go by her real name anymore ***

past teammates: so before going solo, she had a small group and they worked together to scam people, so those teammates ***

previous victims: people she scammed and stole from, ya know? ***

target: the one she’ll try to scam next

JANICE WINTHROPE

27, lawyer, pansexual, Brie Larson fc.

crush: she doesn’t believe in love so I want this to build slowly

employees: she’s opening a new branch for her parents’ law firm ***

ex see wc on the main

JASMINE WRIGHT

31, philanthropist, heterosexual, Blake Lively fc.

best friend: mayb a friend she met while she was still a model, or maybe not, I don’t mind

fans: I imagine there was a bunch of people fans of her work as a model, and her few roles ***

husband see wc on the main

JEFFREY BOWEN

28, unemployed, pansexual, Finn Wittrock fc.

cousin: someone who was next in line to get the company, and so took the lead position while he was gone/still acts as leader for now

employees: he hasn’t announced publicly he is back in the company, but he does still work in the shadows until it’s announced. So either people who know he’s back because they hold higher position in the company, or people who don’t know and think he just quit or got fired. ***

JESSICA LAYTON

33, socialite, bisexual, Olivia Wilde fc.

best friend: I want it to be someone she met prior to marrying rich, so when she was still poor and struggling

husband see wc on the main

socialite friends ***

JIAN CHANG

24, businessman, bisexual, Charles Melton fc.

tba

KAVIA DESAI

23, singer, homosexual, Naomi Scott fc.

tba

KIERAN DOYLE

33, forensic pathologist/irish mafia, demiromantic bisexual, Aidan Turner fc.

tba

LAURENCE JUNEAU

35, fashion designer, bisexual, Bryce Dallas Howard fc.

celebrities she might’ve been asked to design something for ***

crush: someone who flirts a lot and isn’t one for commitment, but she’s just under their charm

ex: I’m thinking maybe there could be some lingering feelings from her side still

regulars: people who often buy from her brand ***

LEA COLE

23, on-set assistant, pansexual, Billie Lourd fc.

coworkers: anyone who might work on set of movies, shows, shootings ***

crush see wc on the main

friends: she’s not really good at expressing her feelings, but definitely people she’s connected with enough to call them friends ***

LENA DAVIES

36, floor manager, bisexual, Olivia Munn fc.

employees: people working at her restaurant ***

regulars: people who often come to the restaurant ***

LEO BURGESS

32, bar/club owner, heterosexual, Chris Pine fc.

tba

LIONEL RUBIO

38, CEO, bisexual, Oscar Isaac fc.

building relationship see wc on the main

employees: maybe in his company, or at his house(like housekeepers, butlers, all that) ***

rival: I haven’t specified what kind of company, but a rival company, ya know? I’m really down for mostly any kind of company so yeah

MITCHELL WOODS

23, cook, bisexual, Josh Hutcherson fc.

friends ***

NADIA BARTON

27, history professor/adventurer, bisexual, Alicia Vikander fc.

tba

NATALIE CALLOWAY

33, detective, heteroflexible, Jenna Louise Coleman fc.

ally(ies): I’m thinking people who are working with her husband, and that she secretly works with to protect him. ***

coworkers ***

NATASHA GRIMES

21, languages student, bisexual, Danielle Campbell fc.

best friend she tells everything to

classmates ***

someone who has a crush on her: the Sid Jenkins to her Michelle Richardson

the Tony Stonem to her Michelle Richardson

NOAH SALVADOR

30, unemployed, bisexual, Bob Morley fc.

tba

PHOEBE NEWTON

22, med student, bisexual, Abigail Breslin fc.

tba

PRESTON WAGNER

21, kinesiology student, bisexual, Cody Christian fc.

close friend: only person he talks to about how he feels

friend of his ex: maybe her best friend or something, and when he sees that person, he thinks of her

teammates: other lacrosse players on the college team ***

RAPHAELLE DELONG

23, personal assistant, bisexual, Zoey Deutch fc.

tba

RICHARD WADE

36, plastic surgeon, pansexual, Ryan Reynolds fc.

tba

ROBERT JEFFERSON

36, politician, bisexual, Tom Hiddleston fc.

tba

SAMUEL PETERS

24, theater director, homosexual, Casey Cott fc.

anyone in the theater industry that could’ve worked with him: actors, playwright, tecnicians, etc. ***

crush

ex: this would’ve been his first and only boyfriend, so fairly recent

maybe a girl he dated in high school to make it look like he was straight? can be plotted more

SERAPHINA BRISBANE

22, journalism major/criminology minor, heterosexual, Willa Fitzgerald fc.

tba

STYLES MCKINLEY

28, oncology resident, bisexual, Beau Mirchoff fc.

tba

TAMI SULLIVAN

20, student, bisexual, Shannon Purser fc.

tba

TAYLOR LOWNDES

24, cook, demiromantic pansexual, Tom Maden fc.

coworkers: he’s a cook in a restaurant, so anyone who can fit that bill ***

girlfriend/boyfriend: probably faked on his part, why can be plotted with you

TERRENCE HALE

29, confectionery co-owner, bisexual, Glen Powell fc.

tba

THEODORE KENYON

29, bouncer, bisexual, Aaron Taylor-Johnson fc.

tba

TIERRA CHADWIN

30, pharmacist, bisexual, Rose Leslie fc.

tba

TIMOTHY WATTS

25, mechanics, bisexual, Landon Liboiron fc.

acquaintances: people he might have met through his ex friends, so not so recommended people ***

close friend: quite possibly the only one who knows he’s not like his old friend and believes in him

regulars ***

TRACEY “TRACE” MACK

22, security guard, homosexual, Bex Taylor-Klaus fc.

tba

TYLER OAKS

27, hitman, bisexual, Nicholas Hoult fc.

tba

VALDA BLAKE

24, barmaid, bisexual, Chloe Bridges fc.

best friend: I can see her having ONE best friend she tells everything, how she feels and all

flirts: she flirts a lot, and whether it goes further or not can be discussed ***

rival(s): people who were in pageants, maybe models she resents because she should be one, anything ***

WILLA ZHAO

34, FBI, bisexual, Kristin Kreuk fc.

tba