#"Affordable running jacket"

[onefite]

Running jacket / The best quality in 2024

Lviefent Womens Lightweight Full Zip Running Track Jacket Workout Slim Fit Yoga Sportwear with Thumb Holes Introduction Looking for the ultimate companion for your workouts and runs? Enter the Lviefent Womens Lightweight Full Zip Running Track Jacket. This sleek, slim-fit jacket is not just a piece of clothing but a staple in any fitness enthusiast’s wardrobe. Designed with a keen eye for both…

[the-intellectual-journal]

You Should Rethink Your Relationship with Fast Fashion

Image Courtesy of Gatis Šjuka

Our world today seems fast-paced and fashion has also followed suit. The appeal of fast fashion is rooted in its promise of trendy clothes at an affordable price. However, beneath the surface lies a troubling reality that demands our attention. 

The fast manufacturing cycles and relentless pursuit of profit that define fast fashion result in significant environmental damage to the planet. The toxic chemicals used in textile production and the massive amounts of water consumed in dyeing are major contributors to that damage. According to a study conducted by Business Insider, fast fashion contributes as much carbon emissions as the entire European Union. The study also found that 85% of textiles end up being disposed of. 

Beyond environmental concerns, there is also a human cost to consider. During the process of production, which prioritizes cheap and quick manufacturing, workers in factories are subjected to harsh working conditions. Additionally, the exploitation of factory workers, primarily those in East and Southeast Asia, demonstrates the racialized inequalities inherent in the fast fashion industry.

Furthermore, there is a reason why clothes from fast fashion brands are so cheap. In a 2022 investigation conducted by iNews, Shein, one of the leading fast fashion companies in the world, pays its workers roughly 0.03694 cents for each piece of clothing produced. This labor mode comes at the expense of human exploitation and we have a responsibility not to contribute to such injustice.

We have to think consciously about the clothes that we are wearing and not contribute to such a destructive cycle. Along with that, clothes produced by fast fashion tend to be of poor quality and last up to a few wash cycles. Although you may believe that you’re saving money because you’re purchasing cheap clothes, you end up spending more money in the long run. 

Due to the clothes’ lack of durability, consumers often find themselves needing to purchase more than necessary. According to a US News article addressing the shortcomings of fast fashion, “A high-quality jacket you spend $150 on and wear 50 times has a per wear cost of $3. Spend $25 on a jacket that you wear twice and the per wear cost is $12.50.” 

This quote captures the significant financial impact of why opting for low-quality clothing ends up hurting your wallet in the long run. Now you may be wondering, “How can I make informed purchasing decisions and break free from the cycle of fast fashion?”

The solution lies in secondhand clothing and embracing sustainable brands. By opting for pre-owned items and supporting brands committed to ethical manufacturing, we can contribute positively to environmental conservation and the well-being of apparel workers. As consumers, our power lies in our dollars, meaning that we hold a key to shaping a more sustainable future for fashion. 

Additionally, renting clothes is another conscious decision. If you have a special event coming up, rather than purchasing clothes to only wear once, consider using clothing rental services such as Rent the Runway and Armoire. These services are also committed to sustainability and ethical practices.

Good On You is also a helpful resource that provides ethical ratings and information for fashion brands, helping you make well-informed consumer decisions.

From environmental degradation to the exploitation of workers and the long-term financial burden on your pockets, it is clear that the role of the fast fashion model is unsustainable. Ultimately, by doing your research on brands that prioritize sustainability and ethical practices, you play a role in creating a more responsible future.

[shirtsbargain]

How To Customize T-Shirts To Tell Stories

T-shirts aren’t just another basic clothing that makes up an outfit style. In the hands of creative minds, they have transcended into canvases that narrate stories via various forms of customization including the recently trending “shining artwork embroidery”. The youth are more into this trend of buying blank t-shirts in bulk and selling them customized, as a side hustle that actually pays. 

Customization of t-shirts goes beyond embellishing them with logos and brand names. Several brands offer affordable, good quality t-shirts that can be customized and sold for profit, including Port & Company t-shirts wholesale and Port Authority t-shirts wholesale. The idea is to craft t-shirts with compelling narratives that appeal to the public. Such creativity can also blow up, earning big reputation for the brand that did the customization. 

So, how do you craft a narrative that transforms a blank t-shirt into a conversation starter? Here's a breakdown:

1. Figuring out the audience

Do you want to sell to fitness enthusiasts? Or are you looking into eco-conscious millennials who support sustainable practices? This is how you decide which t-shirt brand is right for the job. Investing in Sport-Tek t-shirts wholesale can help you appeal to fitness enthusiasts better, owing to the brand’s focus on performance-aiding apparel with great fabric features. On the other hand, many consumers appreciate tees from sustainable brands like Comfort Colors. District t-shirts wholesale collections in ShirtsBargain also offer quite a few pieces that are popular for being eco-friendly. The next step is to come up with a story that’s imbued with the values, interests, and aspirations of the audience.

2. The right imagery

A thoughtful graphic can make a lasting impact. You can use portraits or symbols to represent something that as a whole will tell a story. For example, a portrait of Che Guevara along with one of his quotes could tell a story of rebellion. Such elements can easily trigger conversations, while enabling the audience to identify with a message they connect with.

3. The right kind of slogan

Slogans offer a different way of storytelling, but demands more creativity. The slogans can be thought-provoking, witty or both. A great example is Patagonia’s “Don’t Buy This Jacket” campaign that actually succeeded in encouraging consumers to consider environmental impact.

4. A clear, direct message

A clear, to-the-face message can even begin a cultural movement. It can serve as a call-to-action that can bring the masses together. The “Black Lives Matter” movement saw many apparel sporting artworks and messages that became a rallying cry.

Examples of Storytelling Through T-Shirts:

Charity: A t-shirt design featuring an impactful image and a slogan that supports a specific cause, like breast cancer awareness or veterans' rights, can inspire customers to wear them as a sign of support for the cause.

Environmentalism: T-shirts with graphics depicting endangered species or slogans promoting sustainable practices can tap into the growing eco-conscious market.

Social Justice: Designs that raise awareness about social issues like racial equality or LGBTQ+ rights can empower wearers to make a statement.

Body Positivity: Artworks complemented by thought-provoking slogans can speak a narrative that encourages self-acceptance.

Benefits of Narratives:

Increased Sales: These narratives build a deeper connection with customers, leading to higher sales and brand loyalty.

Standing Out From the Crowd: Unique narratives set your custom t-shirts apart from generic options. In theory, this attracts a more engaged audience.

Building Brand Identity: A strong narrative fortifies your brand identity, raising the value of your custom merchandise in the long run.

[liaromancewriter]

All My Todays

Premise: On the day of the next phase of her life, Sienna reflects on her life and love.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x Max Valentine (M!OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,570

A/N: I received this beautiful poem prompt from @bex-la-get and another visual prompt from @jerzwriter​. Both inspired this cute, fluffy fic for Maxenna.

I’m also participating in @choices-september-challenge-blog​ Day 10 prompt "What are you smiling about?"

She was being chased in her dreams by the most unlikely of things. Medical terms dressed up in teddy bear suits — pyrexia, enuresis, inguinal hernia. The more she ran, the faster they chased her until she felt trapped.

Then she felt a calm spread as something soft brushed her forehead, gentle fingers combed through her hair. She tried to catch the whispered words breaking through the haze of her dreams, but she couldn’t make them out. And then she was alone. No freaky bears quoting Latin. Just peace.

Sienna Trinh slowly drifted awake, her eyes foggy and still disoriented as the ghostly images faded with the morning light. She blinked a couple of times to clear the cobwebs from her mind, absently running her hand over the cool sheets.

She glanced at the bedside clock, and her eyes fell on a piece of paper propped up on Max’s pillow. Recognizing his handwriting, she grabbed the note and sat up in bed to read it.

The shrill beeping of the wake-up alarm cut through the silence, making her jump.

Right on schedule, she smiled, thinking how thoughtful he was. She was usually a light sleeper, but today she had not only slept through him leaving for work but also the alarm on her phone.

She folded Max’s note and slipped it inside her bedside drawer. She climbed out of bed and padded into the ensuite to get ready for her big day. Fiddling with the switches, she waited until the water was warm before stepping into the shower.

She was taking the Pediatrics Board certification exam today and couldn’t afford to be late. Unlike last year when she’d taken the internal medicine exam, she hadn’t felt as panicked or scattered about this evaluation.

Although, maybe those dream teddy bears could have been her subconscious telling her otherwise. She lathered up body wash, pausing as vague images from her dream intruded before slipping away like water down the drain.

Half an hour later, Sienna was dressed in comfortable jeans, a loose white shirt and a brown leather jacket. She entered the kitchen and grabbed a spoon along with the yogurt and granola Max had left her, absently taking a bite as she parked herself on the living room couch.

She wanted to scan the study materials again, feeling her bravado from a few weeks ago disappear now that the exam was only a couple of hours away. Maybe she shouldn’t have spent so much time planning Max and Cassie’s birthday party last week.

Or said yes when Max had asked if she wanted to see the Northern Lights in Iceland, one last trip before real life and work intruded. They’d only been gone a couple of days, but she should have hunkered down and studied instead.

Feeling her thoughts spiral, Sienna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this, she thought, mentally giving herself a pep talk. She loved pediatrics and was good at it. Latin-touting teddy bears notwithstanding.

Not wanting to leave it to the last minute, she opened her bag to check that she had her ID and confirmation letter to show at the exam center. Tucked inside the letter was another sheet of thick paper that she didn’t recognize. She pulled it out and turned it over. Her heart melted as soon as she saw the title and words of love written in familiar handwriting.

By the time she finished reading his message, Sienna’s cheeks were damp from the tears she hadn’t been able to control. She was deep in her feels and wished Max was here. She almost picked up her phone to call him but decided it could wait until tonight. He would want her focused.

She remembered how he’d sent her a text the morning of her IM boards, giving her last-minute words of encouragement. Cassie had Ethan and Aurora, her aunt. Elijah had received a message of support from Baz, while Jackie hadn’t needed anyone. But Sienna had felt adrift, heading into one of the most significant moments of her medical career. And then her phone pinged, and she knew she wasn’t alone.

Feeling more confident than she had earlier, Sienna quickly finished her breakfast and gathered her things to head out. She didn’t need to go over the materials; she knew this topic inside and out.

It was almost seven in the evening when Sienna heard the front door of the apartment open. She was curled up on the couch, her feet tucked under her, a bottle of wine on the coffee table. She poured herself a second glass of white wine, her ears tracking the sounds of Max’s daily after-work routine.

A light thunk as metal met ceramic when he threw his car keys in the bowl on the console. Then the soft swoosh as the door to his home office slid open. Next, he’d take the laptop out of his computer bag and set it down on the desk, maybe plug it in if he hadn’t had a chance to charge it at work.

Any minute now, he’d walk down the hallway and into the living room, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the collar of his shirt as he called out her name. She chuckled and smiled into her glass when he did precisely that, not two minutes later.

“Hey,” Max said, bemused. “What are you smiling about?”

When she shook her head, he let it go, and sat down beside her. He toed off his shoes, put his socked feet on the coffee table, and then draped his arm over her shoulders.

Sienna nestled into his side, feeling the weariness in his body as he sank into the cushions with a loud exhale. She gazed at him, remembering how she’d spent the last hour thinking about their relationship. 

Every moment was ingrained in her mind; when they’d become friends, the first time she’d felt butterflies at the thought of him, the anticipation before their first kiss.

Except for those months when she’d pushed him away, she couldn’t recall a time he hadn’t been there for her, even from a distance. He was her biggest supporter. He believed in her even when she didn’t believe in herself.

Now she was here with him, and he was looking down at her, a quizzical look in his green eyes as she continued to sip her wine.

“Well?” He insisted when she remained silent. “Was it that bad?” His tone turned somber, and he tightened his arm around her.

She reached out to set the empty glass down on the end table, giggling, and his exasperation rang clear. “Sienna, I’m dying here! How was the exam? Are we celebrating or commiserating?”

Tilting her head up, she kissed his jaw, then his lips. When he deepened the kiss, one hand grasping her chin, she fell into the moment. She straddled his thighs and placed her hands on either side of his neck. She poured all the love she had for him into the kiss.

When they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his and gazed softly into his eyes. “You’re a good man, Max Valentine.”

He raised one eyebrow. “What brought this on?” But she only shrugged.

“I’m not perfect, Si,” he said gently, framing her face between his palms. “Far from it.”

“I know you’re not perfect. You work too much. You’re kind of obsessive about having everything orderly and tucked in its place, even though our place is never messy. And you can be snobbish about a person’s choice of alcoholic beverage,” she said, using her fingers to list his faults.

He laughed out loud, a deep belly laugh that had Sienna jostling on his lap. Her hands clutched his shoulders, holding on tight.

“You’ve clearly given this a lot of thought,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

“Only that I love you,” she said, brushing her lips across his. “I want to spend all my todays with you and do it all again tomorrow.”

“You got my note?” His lips quirked in that way she found endearing.

She nodded and nuzzled her cheek against his palm. “It was perfect. I read it and felt I could do anything all day long.”

“Good,” he said, satisfied. “Mission accomplished. Now that I know you’re not drowning your miseries in wine, I have a proposition for you. Not like that!” He chuckled when she leered at him. “Remember how we danced at Donahue’s after your last boards, Cute Girl?”

“I do,” she giggled, recalling the origin of the nickname. She’d been half drunk and had admitted to finding him gorgeous. He’d taken her hand and led her onto the tiny dance floor at the back of the bar. “Although I can’t believe you’re saying no to sex.”

“I’m not saying no,” he scoffed, offended. “I’m saying, not yet. First, we go out on the town and celebrate you becoming a double board-certified and amazing doctor. And then we’ll come back here, and I’ll show you just how awesome I think you are.”

He grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively and making her laugh. She climbed off his lap and held out her hand.

“Come on, Gorgeous Guy,” she pulled him off the couch. “Let’s go dancing and then I’ll bring you back here and show you how awesome I think you are.”

“Deal!”

All Fics & Edits: @potionsprefect​ @trappedinfanfiction​ @mysticalgalaxysstuff​ @genevievemd​ @choicesaddict5​  @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @vi-writes-stuff​ @coffeeheartaddict2​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @dorisz​ @zahrachoices​ @lucy-268​ @a-crepusculo​ @jamespotterthefirst​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @takemyopenheart​ @gryffindordaughterofathena​ @queencarb​ @crazy-loca-blog​ @natureblooms24​ @peonierose​ @cariantha​ @annfg8​ @openheartforeverinmyheart​ @bluebelle08​

@choicesficwriterscreations​ @openheartfanfics​

[whatsabriard]

Watch With Me: Hart to Hart 1x13

Episode Title: Color Jennifer Dead

Original Airdate: January 7, 1980

Why this One?: The red dress. That's it. That's the whole thing.

Favorite Quote?: They didn't need music in those movies. What movies? You know, the ones where the boy would look at the girl right in the eyes. Like you're looking at me? Yeah, and he'd say I love you. Ahh yes, it's all coming back to me. And the music would swell and they'd start to dance.

OK, maybe it's not ENTIRELY this red dress but it's made of sequins and fits like a mermaid suit? so even if this was my only reason it would be a good one.

this episode also features jen-in-jeopardy which means protective!jonathan and we don't kinkshame here.

our girl is having a portrait painted of herself in this SKIN TIGHT SHINY DRESS for her husband for the anniversary. the painter is this new and upcoming arteest.

jennifer wants to see it but he says she can't see it until it's done-done.

of course this fool isn't going to charge jennifer for the painting - gonna give it to her as an anniversary gift. I don't get how the people that can absolutely afford to pay always get the freebies.

anyways, there's a weird guy waiting outside in a fancy cruella deville car. I think this guy might have played Eddie Van Blundht senior on the x-files.

I CHECKED THE IMDB AND IT WAS HIM.

anyway, some guy comes in to talk to the artist with two henchmen. One who keeps using one of those weird hand exercise things and Van Blundht Sr.

Senior kills the artist because you know what happens when artists die?

Money can't buy sense. Why would you bathe a dog in the kitchen. In a bucket. When your dog is sink-sized and you actually do have running water in your house? AESTHETICS?

(but jfc, freeway is cute)

Jonathan promises Jennifer that he will give her no more expensive presents.

Spoiler alert, for their 5th anniversary he gives her a 10carat diamond ring. He wanted to get a carat for every year they were married, but they were "all out" so he got her one she could grow into.

i am not amused by Jonathan's disdainful opinion of grooming parlors.

they're drying the dog on the kitchen counter. I bet that house has 15 bathrooms. Use one of them.

this is an entire scene of them flirting with each other

they find out from the news that the artist died in a drunk driving accident

the artist was a member of AA - he hadn't had a drop of alcohol for five years.

Jennifer wants to go to his apartment to look around.

jonathan wears a super-fly brown leather jacket.

dig his groovy threads, man.

Artist's girlfriend is in the apartment and talks about how she doesn't believe it was an accident AND all of his artwork is missing.

LOOK. Benihana was a real *thing* in the 1980's. I had my 4th birthday there. That's why they're having a dinner meeting with the cops there, too.

Jennifer speaks perfect japanese.

the lieutenant's girlfriend wants to meet the Harts - she's a big fan.

this weird lady just reached out and petted Jennifer's hair and Jonathan is cracking up.

The shady guys from artist's appt are going through all the art they stole. He has gotten rich killing artists and then selling their newly expensive paintings.

OH NO, Peterson actually sent the portrait of Mrs Hart to the gallery.

The Harts are favorites of the paparazzi. gotta get the picture back so they cops dont' figure out who murdered the artist.

walking around enjoying some ice cream, Jonathan stops to buy Jennifer a single red rose because these mfers are ROMANTIC.

But lo, they see the painting on the wall of a gallery! What!

What's that doing there? Let's contact the owner of the gallery and FIND OUT.

They almost get run down at the address of the gallery owner.

And then they sort of accidentally break into his house and stumble on his dead body.

"So you just walked in and discovered the body?" what, like you're surprised?

Lieutenant shows up with his girlfriend and he wants to be dismissive and tell them to leave the cop-work to the cops, but the girlfriend is pitching for the harts.

they end up back at the gallery - they don't want the portrait to disappear! - but guess what. It's already gone.

they have a bit of fisticuffs with the guys who are trying to sell the portrait and i can't believe they couldn't get a more similar looking stunt double for Stefanie.

For some reason, the fact that Jennifer was in the gallery has made this guy decides she has to die. that's no bueno.

the harts buy tickets to a ball for that night - the ball that the bad guy is throwing.

jonathan is starting to feel his spidey sense tingling about the guy throwing the ball, the artist's former teacher and coincidences.

Anyway, they're going to chase down the private collectors.

Next stop is bad guy's house.

Jonathan never carries business cards or cash. Useless.

this bad guy tells Jennifer to wear something colorful to the party. REMEMBER THIS.

he still wants to kill jennifer, which just seems stupid

my favorite scenes happen in the hart bedroom. coincidence? I just love it when they're getting ready to go out and they're all domestic and shit.

Who, she asks in all seriousness. Who in the hell wears heels with their towel?

Jonathan, like all other normal human beings, is barefoot.

they're finally putting it together that the paintings will be more valuable now that he's dead.

It's really not much of a party if your house man isn't also in your bathroom while you're wearing towels. With heels. I guess.

they always to the hollywood costume company for costumes. I feel like I've been there but I would have been no bigger than a junebug so.

This is it. This is why we've come.

But guess what. At this BeauxArts Ball, everyone else is dressed in black and white. (also "hot stuff" is playing in the background, which is pretty much everything.)

there is a disco ball and confetti falling like snow. Everyone is in masks and partying down. This is the backdrop for the final chase/fight.

Wherein the bad guy plays to assassinate Jennifer since she's in all red and easy to see.

this guy is trying to kill Jennifer with a comically large gun but he accidentally hits a man wearing an actual suit of armor. Of all the luck.

the harts hide in a closet, which has a bunch of paintings all lined up...but the jennifer portrait on an easel with a spotlight. how very convenient.

More importantly, check out those gams.

Jonathan is dressed as the phantom of the opera, which makes these chase/fight on the catwalk above the party all the more perfect.

with one shot, Jonathan takes the comically large gun and shoots the bad guy off the catwalk. then he rides a rope up to save the girl.

the episode ends with them returning home all worn out.

Jennifer is complaining about her aching feet but I sort of feel like this one is on her. She's been wearing her shoes since her shower and that isn't anyone's fault but hers.

look at these besotted idiots. JUST LOOK AT THEM.

jennifer realizes they never got to dance.

so they start dancing to no music because of course they do

just go be in love you big dumb idiots i love you sfm.

[puckngrind]

Columbus isn't home - J. Anderson

Summary: Josh returns to Columbus (winter 2021/2) for the first time since being traded.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of breakup, pandemic, rehab

Word count: 1,420

Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

“You don’t live here any more!” You screamed into your phone, ending the call then throwing your phone across the room. He didn’t live in Columbus anymore or the country for that matter. Josh was traded, sold his condo you two shared then blamed the border closer on his lack of return to Ohio before the season started last January. He found someone else to occupy his time in the year since you’ve seen him. While he wouldn’t tell you outright, the pictures didn’t lie. Punching the pillow and screaming again didn’t seem to help matters. Your phone rang again. Ignoring it and stepping outside into the cool winter air helped slightly.

The knock on the door startled you. “Ignore it.” You convinced yourself it was a salesman.

“Bells!” The recognizable voice shouted through the door. “Bells, damnit! I saw you standing at your balcony. Isabella!!” Josh’s voice got louder. A thud came from the door then silence.

Ding. The text alert lit up your phone from under the coffee table. Ding. Ding.

“Fuck off Anderson!” You thought you shouted but maybe it was a whisper. Closing the balcony door then fishing your phone from where you launched it you tip toe to the door to look out the peephole. Yup, Josh’s long legs spread into the hallway.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” Josh sensed you were at the door.

“Why? Don’t you have a game tomorrow or something?” You pressed your forehead into the door. The unfinished business between you two making you want to open the door for him.

“Yes and I don’t care if I play like shit if it means talking to you face to face.” Josh stands, presses his hands to either side of the door frame then stares at the glass that keeps flipping from light to dark. “Just let me in Bells. Please?” You cursed how good he looked and even through the door how he was effecting your body.

“If I open the door what will change?” You stand your ground mustering up all the hurt and anger from the past year.

“We can close the chapter. I can apologize properly. Bells, please?” Josh brushes his fingers through his wet long locks. Reminding you of his 2019 cup run. Told him how much you liked his hair long and he kept it. You huff out of exhaustion then unlock your deadbolt. Slowly opening the door feeling Josh’s piercing blue eyes on you before even looking up.

“Come in.” Your voice shaky with a hint of annoyance.

“Thanks Bella.” Josh shuffled past you brushing his knuckles slightly against your arm as he made his way into your place. “Nice place.” He looks it up and down.

“Well, it was what I could afford after being suddenly evicted from my gorgeous condo… oh wait?” The venom dripping from each word.

“I really am sorry. I should’ve…” Josh stands a safe distance but you still feel the heat radiating between you.

“Save it. You attempted to apologize for the shit show that was October 2020 and I’m done hearing it. Why are you really here Josh?” Your arms cross over your chest.

“I needed to see you. I wanted to say sorry in person. This is the first time I’ve been back. I’ve missed…”. You put your finger up to stop him.

“Don’t fucking say you missed me! We both know you left your Columbus life and didn’t look back. Found new friends, new team, new girl. Don’t get all nostalgic on me now that you are back thinking we can just be fuck buddies when the Habs are in town.” You almost growl at him then make your way to the kitchen. Having this conversation needed alcohol. Knowing Josh would follow you slam a bottled water on the counter. The lid almost popping off with force. Twisting off your drinks top and chugging it like water made your head spin a bit.

“Bells. That’s not it at all. Could you calm down, please?” Josh stepped closer. “I think you filled in some holes that aren’t true.”

“Oh, you are smooth. Is that how you got her in bed? Convinced her we broke up? Introduced her to the wives? Let her wear a WAGS jacket to the cup final? Please enlighten me on what holes I filled?” Pressing your lips to your bottle again not wanting to break eye contact with him.

“Let’s sit on the coach, eh?” He puts out his hand but you walk past him to what was once his couch and sit placing your feet up so he had to sit on the other end.

“So, talk.” You had forgotten how you still loved him because all you could see was the hurt he caused.

“I fucked up.” He leans into the back of the couch.

“Sure did.” You nod.

“Bells, this was never the plan. Ever. Ask any of the guys.” Josh bites his lip then looks down at your feet.

“I did. You were going to propose. Well at least that’s what ‘the guys’ told me. Since you decided to ignore them too and I really didn’t have anyone else here beyond the family we made with the team.” Your fingers were still up in the air from the air quotes.

“You could’ve gone home to Cleveland, Bella.” Josh mumbled.

“I made a life here Josh. Remember? Job, friends, you. The only thing that left was you.” You snap.

“I’m a dumbass.”

“You could say that again.”

“I’m a fucking dumbass.” He repeats causing you to laugh a little. “Your laugh is contagious you know. I swear I hear it sometimes sitting in my apartment alone.”

“Alone?” You narrow your brow knowing she was living with him.

“Yeah. I told her I was still in love with you and sorry I lead her on the way I did.” Josh buries his face into his hands.

“Is that why your brother snapped me stating you were a fucking mess?”

“Probably.”

“Then why has it taken you this long to get back here? Say these things?” Your voice softened but guard still very much up.

“I wallowed in my parents’ basement for a good two to three weeks." Josh admits. "Four weeks according to your Mom." You insert.

"What?" Josh was confused. "Anyway, decided to find a trainer in Montreal. When the border opened I wanted to come find you but you wouldn’t return my calls or texts or anything. And I get it, because I hurt you probably more than anyone ever has or will. I don’t deserve you, Bells. I have never deserved you. You’ve always been too good for my idiotic self.” Josh sniffles causing you to look over at him. His sweatpants now wet from tears dripping down his arms.

“Josh.” You whisper. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I didn’t ask you to say anything Bella.” Josh sits up wiping his face with his sleeve which makes you giggle.

“You want a tissue there Anderson?” Pulling the box from behind the couch. Josh grabbing one with a nod. The two of you sat in silence. Not really knowing what to say but just sitting there feeling the weight of the situation. Finally, the words come to you lips.

"You did hurt me the most of anyone, ever. You dumped our entire world for, what? Money? I was ready to follow you anywhere and you didn't even give me a chance. Do you not remember the rehab? Our trip to Vail for your surgery? You were pushing me away and I wrote it off as pain. Then... then... You just left. Left. Found an upgrade on all aspects of life and moved the fuck on. I was left to pick up the pieces. Yeah, I still love you but I'm not sure I trust you. I'm not in love with you. But, yeah, Josh. I still love you and it fucking hurts."

"But you still love me?" Josh had a small glimmer of hope in his voice.

"J, you live in Canada not Columbus." You whisper out.

"But the fact that you still love me is a start, Bells." Josh turns to you.

"Is it?" You question looking deep into his eyes. "Columbus will never be your home again and I cannot just live in Montreal."

"You sure about that Isabella?" Josh shuffles around. You look down, eyes going wide.

"Don't!"

[implexedactions]

Yandere Hawks - Cold Snap

Wrote a Yandere Hawks fic! Woo! Am I really just attracted to any man I see who acts interested in me? Maybe!

This work contains yandere and possessive behavior, although nothing sexual happens. It also includes physical harm.

---

With a snap, the front door lock breaks in two.

You know Hawks won’t be happy, but you NEED to escape. You can’t take another second of this constant attention he’s giving you. He was given a few weeks of vacation somehow, and he’s been spending it all hovering around you. Trying to smother you with gifts, hugs, intimate moments, cuddles. Never mind that he kidnapped you and forced you to stay in this cabin in the woods. He’s sleeping on the couch right now, but he could wake up at any minute.

Determined, you take a step out and feel the snow crunch beneath your feet. The house is in a snowy meadow, with the forest just 100 or so meters in front of you. You take off sprinting towards it. The air is cold, you're wearing a jacket he got you. The fabric is too thin to be of that much help, though.

You’re almost there when suddenly you hear the front door swing open. Looking over your shoulder, you freeze. It’s hawks. His face morphs from shock into pure rage. His wings rising up behind him, his eyes locked only on you, piercing your body.

“…Dove…get back inside…now…”

You freeze, scared to the bone. Your brain starts shouting to apologise and just go back home, and maybe he’ll be nice to you, to start crying, to plead, to do ANYTHING but keep running.

You turn around and keep running to the forest. Of course, it’s a fool’s errand, but you’re so close, if you get to the forest you might be able to hide. His face twists into one of entertainment and faux happiness.

“Oh! I get it my dove! You just want to play a game. To burn off all the energy! Well, if you really want that, I am MORE than happy to oblige!”

His body becomes airborne, flying above you. He knows you won’t get away, he’s a pro-hero for god's sake! He simply observes you getting closer and closer to the meadow’s edge. You can hear his wings, the fear in your chest building and building. You know the game he’s playing with you. He’s building tension, taking pleasure in how each step is shakier and less determined than the last.

Flap.

Flap.

Flap.

Flap.

Flap.

Flap.

Flap.

 You break, huddling down onto the ground, in the snow, just a mere meter from the forest. Being in the woods wouldn’t have saved you, it was just another arbitrary line that he would’ve crossed. He’d cross the whole world to find you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

Two boots crunch down on the snow beside you.

“So…dove, get that out of your system?” He says with a sickening tone.

“Please, I’m s-sorry.”

“Oh but dove, I don’t think you are. You ruined a perfectly nice day just to have a run in the snow. I know you must be burning with energy, but there are more…fun ways we can solve that. Ones that don’t cause me so much anxiety. Ones that, perhaps, cause me a little more pleasure? Hm?” He taps the side of your head with his boot.

“You- You said you weren’t going to force yourself on me like that” you reply, timid and shaking.

“And you, my beautiful dove, are meant to appreciate all that I have done for you. But it looks like neither of us are getting what was promised, huh?” He looks down at you, smile wide on his face.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

You turn and look into his eyes, fury burning in your own.

“I HATE you okay?! I HATE it here! You took me away for your own delusion, and I swear to god that I will find a way to escape and make you PAY! You sick fucking feathered freak!”

His smile drops, his face turning flat, not angry, just cold.

“Huh, okay then. I thought you loved me, but I guess I must be wrong, huh? But if you don’t love me then, why should I afford you my protection?”

“Protection from what?!” you scream at him.

“Well, there are a lot of dangerous people out there, who, if pissed off, could hurt you.”

His boot connects with your stomach.

“What the hell?!” you cry in agony.

“I thought it was obvious that a person would take any chance to avoid such harm.”

An errant feather embeds itself in your hand. Blood spilling onto the fresh snow.

“Please stop!” you cry, pulling the feather out and seeing a slit between both sides of your hand.

“Of course, if you don’t love me, then I see no reason to protect you from such people.”

A boot lands on your shin, and he starts pushing his full weight down.

“Please! Stop! Don’t break my leg!”

“Tut tut tut dove, it’s like I said. My love offers protection. So, one last time…Do you love me?”

“…yes, I love you hawks!”

The pressure increases.

“Aww dove, I’m having trouble believing such a thing. As I recall you said I was, and I quote, a ‘sick fucking feathered freak’. It’s kind of hard to believe you, no?”

“I’m sorry hawks, I love you! I swear, I love you! I was just a blind idiot who couldn’t appreciate your love!”

The pressure increases. The pain is unbearable. He leans down, getting as close as he can while still maintaining the pressure.

“Say my name.”

“What?” You stare up at him in disbelief.

“My name. You always call me hawks, never my actual name. You know my name, do you not, dove? You’ve spent weeks with me! If you want to save your leg, you’ll say my name” he grins a cold smile.

“I’m sorry, …Kaygu?”

With a snap, your shin breaks in two.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers)

Masterlist Behind Closed Doors Masterlist

Warnings- tension, again.

When In Paris

The suite at the five star Parisian hotel was far more glamorous than anything Emma had ever experienced, and that was coming after an extensive flight spent on a private jet. The wonder in her eyes was unmatched, and by just looking at her face, Keanu could tell that their trip was her first time traveling in luxury. Something about the twinkle in her eyes made him want to see it more, he wanted to spoil Emma, just so he could hear that, melodic, breathless laugh that she'd emitted when they boarded the private jet, see the way her red painted lips parted in awe when they landed in magnificent Paris and be privy to the way her pretty eyes widened when they entered the suite.

Upon Miranda finding out that a new collaboration with a New York based cosmetic company would have her missing the premiere in Paris, Keanu had found himself breathing a sigh of relief. Partially because he didn't want to spend the trip, and by extension his birthday, tolerating Miranda's constant nitpicking of Emma's methods and the little insults she usually threw the girl's way. But there was another part of him, softer and more cautious about letting its intentions known, that insisted that he was actually relieved because no Miranda meant more time alone with Emma. Keanu knew that he shouldn't have been thinking like that, he was engaged and highly doubted that Matt and Poppy's nanny even returned his not-so-platonic feelings. She was young and would probably be repulsed by the idea of being tied down by a man his age, far less one with young children.

As Keanu settled into his room, the master bedroom right next to the slightly smaller room where the twins would be staying and directly across from Emma's room, he tried to push away the intrusive thoughts, only to be interrupted by none other than the subject of his wandering eyes. "Got a minute?" She smiled shyly, loosely gripping the knob of his ajar door.

"I could spare a few," he grinned brightly despite himself. For her, he'd carve time out of the busiest of schedules.

"Great," Emma blushed, noting the way his gaze roved her form, clad in a snug, white sweater and a simple pair of blue jeans, "The kids, they want to go out. I'd take them on my own, but I've never been here, and I wouldn't want to get lost." Glancing at the floor, she tucked an escaped strand behind her ear, and Keanu didn’t think he could put into words how much he wanted to be the one doing that; his thumb caressing her high cheek bone, her skin soft and warm to touch. “If you don’t have time, then-”

“No,” Keanu dropped the shirt he was holding back into the suitcase, walking around the foot of the king sized bed, collecting his leather jacket and scarf on his way towards Emma. He stopped closer to her than he should have, and with that proximity, she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze, “I have time, we could go for a walk and if I remember correctly there should be a great café about a block away. You’ll like it.”

Stunned, Emma blinked quickly, not expecting Keanu to be so readily on board the idea of going out mere hours after they’d gotten to the hotel. She had started to forget how much fun and how carefree he could be when Miranda wasn’t around and even if she knew that her opinion didn’t really matter in the scheme of things, Emma thought she preferred Keanu when he was alone.

Surprisingly, he led her towards the drawing room with his hand on the center of her back, almost weightless even as comforting warmth emanated from his palm. It was almost as if he wanted to touch her, though he knew he shouldn't.

Calling out to the kids, who came running excitedly, both still dressed to go out, Keanu swiped Emma’s camel coat from off the back of the grey, floral patterned cabriole sofa, helping her into it. His fingers brushed her shoulders through her sweater, electrifying her nerves, and when he absently passed his hands over her arms after it was on, Emma sucked in a breath, restraining herself from leaning into him, “Thank you,” she blushed, hoping he wouldn’t see it.

“Of course,” he hated having to take his hands off her and before he could stop himself, Keanu found himself wondering what it would be like if he were with Emma instead of Miranda, surely, he hadn’t known her for as long, but being with her came naturally, and as he watched her kneeling to get Poppy into her pink, fuzzy, petite coat, closing up the large plastic buttons at the front, Keanu couldn’t deny how purely familial it felt; just her, him and the children. No one moaning about how the children should stay back for the evening, telling Matt that he couldn’t wear blue on blue or making snide remarks in his ear about how the nanny was overstepping when she pecked the kids on their foreheads. Keanu liked it when Emma overstepped, when she cared for his children as if they were her own, when she lightened the mood with a joke told under her breath and when she’d, even if accidentally, showed her concern for his own wellbeing, as if he were more to her than just an employer. “Everyone ready?”

“Ready guys?” Emma turned the question to the twins as she slipped her cell into her nude colored shoulder purse, proceeding to stylishly wrap a floral scarf around her neck, adding a pop of color to her cool toned outfit. When they both nodded vigorously, bouncing in agreement, she offered her hand, giggling when Matt went for it, leaving Poppy with him, “Alright, then let's go, lead the way,” Emma beamed, turning to Keanu.

The café that Keanu had told Emma about was right where he remembered, and they were led to a table quickly by the young hostess; perk of being a celebrity. They were tucked cozily in the corner of the patio dining area, where their scenic surroundings were still visible; orange and yellow leaves peppering the sidewalk after having fallen from trees planted along the edges, while picturesque buildings on the other side of the worn brick street added to the view. A small platter of strawberries and cream macarons as well as orange and chocolate madeleines, along with two hot chocolates were enough to get Matt and Poppy settled for a while, talking and giggling amongst themselves. Emma was sitting across from him, occasionally slipping small forkfuls of French silk pie into her mouth as she drank in the beauty of city, “Do you like it?” Keanu interrupted her thoughts, just as she was setting her latte down, her cherry red lipstick lightly staining the delicate china.

“The coffee, the chocolate or Paris?” She held his gaze, tongue darting out ever so slightly to moisten her lips, just before she brought the silverware to her mouth again, a playful glimmer dancing in her eyes. She was so, so beautiful, and Keanu had caught himself staring a few too many times.

Smile still evident, he shifted around a sliver of his moose cake, the plate streaked with pink, white and brown, trying not to fumble on his words. Emma didn’t really make him nervous per say, it was quite the opposite actually, Keanu usually felt a comfort and ease around her that was absent in the company of most others, like she was simply encouraging him to be the best version of himself. Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t long to be close to perfection in her eyes; say all the right things at the right times, impress her because even if she didn’t make him feel like he had to, Emma made him feel like she deserved it. “All of it, Paris, the chocolate, the coffee,” he quoted in reverse.

“Its…..perfect,” inhaling, a lone shiver ran through her, and she sipped her latte again, “I’ve actually never been out of the states, so this kind of feels…….magical.” There was a childlike sparkle in her expression, something Keanu hadn’t witnessed in anyone other than children in years, at his age, there weren’t many luxuries that he hadn’t yet experienced, and despite their two years together, Keanu had yet to see anything close to that on Miranda’s face. There was a time, within the first few months of them dating where he’d strove to impress her, going any lengths just so she’d be happy with him, but by the eighth or ninth month, it became a daunting, tiring task, and Miranda didn’t seem to care what he did, as long as it was up to her expensive tastes. Emma though, there was an air about her that made Keanu feel special, like he could give her the smallest thing and she’d just be in awe.

“You’ve never travelled?” Keanu frowned, his kids had been travelling with him since they were a year old, and at that point, he didn’t think they knew a life that didn’t involve leaving their home country at least twice a year.

She nodded, tearing her gaze from across the street and casting it back towards Keanu, “Nope, not out of the states,” embarrassed, Emma drew in a soft breath from the chilly autumn air, “First we couldn’t really afford it, but even when I got older, after my mom got us in a good place, she had to save so I could go the college. I don’t mind though,” straightening her back, Emma regained her quiet confidence, “I’ve got a lot of time for that.”

“You do,” Keanu agreed, bringing his espresso to his lips, blowing on the scaling beverage before taking a long sip, “I mean, one day you’re gonna be a famous designer and you’ll get to go wherever you want.”

Laughing quietly, Emma bent her head shyly, wispy dark strands falling over her face, having escaped from her high ponytail, “I don’t know about that,” she dismissed, “I mean, its gonna take a while before I even cement myself in the L.A. fashion scene, famous…..that’s something else. It’s a nice thought though.”

“Its a great reality too,” tentatively, he reached for her hand laid on the top of the wicker table, squeezing affectionately, before catching himself and reluctantly retracting, “I’ve seen some of what you can do, those dresses your made yourself, that purple tutu you made Pop for her recital last month, you can do this Em. I know it probably doesn't mean a lot coming from me, but I believe in you.”

“I,” she stumbled on her words, astonished by his faith in her, “It actually does mean a lot to me Keanu,” Emma dragged her lower lip through her teeth, and Keanu shifted in his chair, inhaling sharply, “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he croaked, trying to slow his breaths. It was amazing how he could go from being wonderstruck by Emma to being turned on in just seconds. She was truly an enigma, one of a kind. “You know,” he huffed, hoping to change the topic and get them talking again to steer his thoughts away from anything too perverse, “This is my favorite, here, try it.” He offered her some of his cake on his fork, encouraging Emma to lean in. So much for going for something more innocent.

Hesitating, Emma eventually leaned over the table, letting Keanu feed her a bit of the cake, moaning in pleasure at its taste. She could easily see why it was his favorite, the raspberry, vanilla and dark chocolate all melded together in her mouth to create a symphony of flavor, each one complimenting the other perfectly as the moose melted on her tongue. “That’s amazing!” And at that, Poppy and Matt started cheering about how they wanted to try it too, their faces lighting up at how delightfully sweet the creamy desert was.

Dragging his lip through his teeth, Keanu chuckled as he looked on at Emma, “You have a little….” he gestured to the corner of his mouth, only laughing louder when Emma missed several times over. “Here,” he grabbed up his napkin, reaching over the table, “Let me,” dapping the corner of her lips, Keanu eyed the way her cheeks reddened and took a chance at carelessly brushing her skin with his thumb, his ragged breath matching hers. “Em…..” Knowing that the right thing would have meant pulling away wasn’t hard knowledge to come by, but knowing how to just be Emma’s friend and boss certainly was.

Her head tilted ever so slightly to the side and Emma’s blinking slowed, roughness of his touch so inviting that she wanted it to last forever. There was something at the tip of her lips, and Keanu yearned to know what it was, perhaps permission for his feelings, indication that she returned them, but alas, their moment was cut in half when Matt spotted a walking balloon vendor across the street, him and his sister protesting loudly, clamoring about how they wanted balloons. Immediately, Keanu pulled away, collecting his bearings and discarding the napkin, as Emma averted her stare, hoping to find anything more interesting. They’d come so close to crossing a line, and Keanu knew that had they kept going, he’d have hell to pay when he returned to L.A.

One Week Later The premiere had fallen exactly on Keanu’s birthday, which was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, him being gone for the day meant that Emma would have enough time to put her plan in action, but on the other, it also meant that by the time Keanu had gotten home, they kids were beat and borderline cranky. Thankfully though, Keanu had returned by half nine and neither Matt nor Poppy had fallen asleep in the cute little semi formal outfits Emma had dressed them in. As he’d walked in, flicking on the lights to illuminate the main room, looking tired and a little more down than she’d been expecting, Emma and the kids yelled excitedly, “Surprise!”

Shocked, Keanu jumped, holding his hand to his chest, speechless for a moment. Though, that, fortunately, didn’t last very long, “What is all this?” Second by second, a wide grin split his lips and his eyes scanned the room, landing on their set up on the coffee table; a layered cake, the one he’d mentioned as his favorite at the café, glasses along with a bottle of cider and a few presents, wrapped in cheerful paper with ribbons and bows adorning the top.

“It’s for you daddy!” Poppy was the first to run up to Keanu, grabbing his leg in a hug, followed only second later by Matt, who did the same. And just as he bent over, taking them into his ready arms, Emma stood from the sofa, not wanting to intrude on their moment, “Happy Birthday!” Kissing his cheek, Poppy, was sure to hug him as tightly as her little arms would allow.

“Happy Birthday daddy,” Matt followed suit, clinging to his father, playing with Keanu’s simple, black skinny tie as he hoisted them both on either side of his lips, “Do you like it? It was all Emma’s idea!”

“Well, I can’t take all the credit,” she admonished lightly when Keanu glanced to her, “I had a couple of excellent co planners,” tentatively, Emma finally approached them, her heels clicking quietly on the cream marble floors, “We just wanted to do something special for you.”

The warmth in his heart was reflected in his expression, and if his arms weren’t so full, he’d definitely lean in to pull Emma in a consuming hug, “Thank you,” it had been a while since anyone put that much effort into his birthday, the older he got, the less he’d want his family to do, and it went without saying that Miranda was never big on getting him anything more than a cushy present. In fact, usually, Keanu would be inclined to spend his birthday with just his children, watching movies with them on the sofa after a take out dinner. The quiet affairs never bothered him, he'd had enough parties and glitzy birthdays in his twenties and thirties, and was wholly ready to continue on with smaller, more intimate ones.

When he set the kids down, Keanu placed a hand on her elbow, still an arm's length away, leaning in to peck her cheek, "This is amazing, I can't tell you how much it means." When Keanu pulled away, despite his efforts not to stare, he found himself doing it anyway, absorbing the way her burnt orange sweater dress hugged every curve perfectly, boasting her legs when the hem cut off mid thigh. Her hair fell in voluminous waves down to the center of Emma’s back, framing her delicate features, and her simple, clean cut make-up accentuated her full lips and dark eyes. “And you,” Keanu stuttered, affectionately squeezed her elbow, “Look beautiful.”

Caught off guard, Emma blinked quickly, her deep burgundy lips moving to form words but never quite making it through any. “Oh!” A wider smile threatened to break through just as the apples of her cheeks unintentionally went red, “Thank you,” she took a step back and Keanu took that as a sign to reluctantly retract his touch. “Uh,” stuttering again, she looked around wildly, not really sure who’d done the initial overstepping but knowing that someone had to put an end to it, “Why don’t we sit? Yeah, you still have to blow out your candles and open your presents.”

“We can’t wait for you to see what we got you daddy!” Poppy jumped excitedly, a few raven strands escaping the braid Emma had put her hair in, falling over her face as she clapped small her hands. Without settling down in the slightest, she grabbed Keanu’s hand, the size of hers almost muted by his larger, rougher one as Poppy pulled her father towards the sofa, urging him to sit before hopping into his lap. Looking on, Emma offered her hand to Matt, leading him to the chair as well, trying not to think of how much she wanted something like that one day. The real deal, not just a pseudo family, where it felt like she was getting paid to play house, but a husband with children of her own who adored her as much as Matt and Poppy did Keanu.

Leaving a healthy, safe distance between them, Emma claimed a spot on the long sofa, chuckling when Matt mirrored his sister and situated himself in her lap, squirming in anticipation. “So,” securing the boy, she wrapped a slender arm around him, gently flattening her palm to his chest so he wouldn’t fall with all the movement he was doing, “What’ll it be birthday boy? Cake or presents first?”

“What do you two think?” Keanu bent forward to look at both his children, laughing softly when they both bounced in their places, cheering that he go with cake first. “Cake it is,” he determined, and soon after, Emma was reaching for the lighter on the table, keeping Matt away from the flame as she lit the tall candles strategically sunken into the cake, among the cluster of raspberries decorating the top. When all five were lit, Emma and the kids sang happy birthday, clapping when he blew out the candles. Afterwards, she cut them each a slice, and between bites, they moved on with presents.

Up first was the one that Emma had helped organize for Matt and Poppy to give him; they had done most of the the work while she’d simply provided guidance and occasionally, assistance. They’d chosen to make their father a picture frame, using popsicle sticks and colorful craft items, and it had turned out wonderfully, the neatly arranged painted, sticks decorated with buttons, cut out shapes made of plastic, and ribbon had a picture of Keanu and the twins on the inside. “I love it!” He hugged them tight, kissing their heads, still staring at his present. Even off to the side, Emma could see the softness in his eyes, the warmth clinging to his features, there wasn’t the slightest bit of untruth when Keanu said he’d loved the gift, and she admired him for it. A celebrity, who could probably buy anything he wanted at any given moment, appreciating a sweet, handmade gift as if the world had been served on a silver platter. “This is the best present ever!” Keanu hugged them again, keeping Matt and Poppy close.

It was only when he’d released them, did Emma present him with her gift, wrapped up in a blue and white polka dot box, held closed by white silk ribbon, “This one is from me,” her shy smile faltered when their hands touched, and she he'd her breath, hoping he’d like it.

Giving the edge of the ribbon a tug, Keanu undid the bow, opening the box. His jaw hung slack in breathless awe, and trying to be as gentle as possible, he reached into the box’s depths, producing an exact replica of the bike he rode to work almost every morning. It had been spray painted in the exact same colors, carried a downsized version of the very same details and even had a tiny license plate with his initials engraved onto it, “Em…” he gasped, running his fingers over the perfectly mimicked details, “This is….wow,” he huffed a chuckled.

Dragging her lip through her teeth, Emma searched his features, “Do you like it?” She probed nervously.

“Like it?” He glanced up at her, his emotions spilling out in just the way he looked at her, “I love it,” he chuckled louder, “Emma,” Keanu set his gift down on the coffee table, reaching for her bare knee with the hand that wasn’t holding Poppy close, “It’s so thoughtful of you.” The smile brightened his rugged, somewhat tired features as he added, "I love it."

"Great," Emma tried not to look him straight in the eye, knowing if she did, she might be wholly responsible for what happened next. His touch, warm on her thigh, squeezing affectionately, sent shivers up her spine and Emma was caught between wondering how things might have escalated if they were alone and thinking that it was time to pull away. "I'm glad you like it," even if she knew she'd already let his touch linger for far too long, Emma placed her hand over his, and faintly, she heard Keanu's breath hitch as his eyes widened slightly.

They both knew that at that point, their position wasn't unintentional, yet, before either of them could act, they were interrupted by Poppy stretching sleepily, admitting that she was tired. In an instant, whenever they were sharing had been broken, the moment was gone. Leaving them blinking quickly, seemingly emerging from a trance, and prompting them to get the kids ready for bed.

That night, Keanu helped Emma out with bedtime rituals, sticking around during bath time all the way through until they informed him that they wanted Emma to read to them before lights out. It was nearly eleven when she finally emerged from the hallway, shoes clicking softly until she finally decided that they were too much noise, nudging them off with her toes and resuming her small stature. “Hey,” she smiled tightly, calling Keanu’s attention as he stood at the floor to ceiling window, nursing something far stiffer than cider, the glittering lights of illuminated the Eiffel Tower casting a yellow glow on his face, the only thing brightening the room after he’d dimmed the lights.

“Hi,” he grinned widely, the way he always did when Emma walked into the room, “Whiskey?” He offered, moving to the mini bar, ready to get her a drink.

“Sure,” in minutes, Keanu was approaching her, offering Emma the glass he’d gotten, their fingers once again brushing during the hand off. That time, they both just huffed shyly, pretending to ignore it as they approached the window, staring in silence for a while, until Keanu scoffed a chuckle. “What?” Turning to him, Emma observed his profile, wondering if people were even supposed to be made that perfect.

“Its just,” shrugging, Keanu punctuated his words with a brief sip of his drink, not even hissing at its strength, “It’s almost over. Another year gone.” He seemed pensive, his thoughts colliding and confusing him; she’d never seen him in that light and all Emma wanted to do was help.

The alcohol burnt her throat as it slid down, and unlike Keanu, it showed on Emma’s face, though, it created a familiar warmth in her belly, one that she liked; even if she was quickly going to learn that it wasn’t just breaking the autumn chill, but also ebbing away her inhibitions. “You sound disappointed,” and when Keanu didn’t offer a response, she gently pressed, “Are you?”

Shaking his head, Keanu downed the rest of his whiskey, wincing slightly and discarding his glass on the top of a nearby accent chest, slipping his hands into his pockets as he turned to face her. His tie was loosened at the neck and before the twins’ bath, Keanu had discarded his blazer on the chair nearby. He was striking, even when he was close to disheveled. “I don’t know,” the disconcertment echoed in his tone, “Do you ever think that you’re doing the right thing, but then…...there’s one little change, and suddenly it feels like you’re making a huge mistake?”

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Emma tried to decipher the true meaning behind his words, opting for an analogy when she couldn’t, “When I first started college, I knew exactly what I wanted; I wanted to be a designer,” she smiled wistfully, “And my nana always taught me to go after what I wanted, even if it was silly to everyone else. So I started fashion school, but then the fees started to take a toll on my mom’s finances, and even if I got two part time jobs, it still didn’t save me from starting to sink.” Emma sighed deeply, looking out towards the city again, “The circumstances changed, or maybe I just noticed them for the first time, and suddenly, going to fashion school seemed selfish, like I’d made a terrible decision, a huge mistake. But when I told my nana what I was thinking, she asked me where I saw myself in ten years and……..that’s how I knew I had to stay.”

Knitting his brows, Keanu seemed more perplexed than when they’d started their conversation, “I don’t understand,” his voice was gruff and low and he hung on, waiting for her explanation,

Sighing, Emma’s contemplative soiree softened, “I guess it meant, if you’re sure about something, if you know it’s right in your heart, then even if things get in the way, you’ll find your way back to it. We’re constantly searching for happiness, and what’s right is always so……subjective. But if you know it's right in here,” stepping closer, Emma gently tapped Keanu’s chest, “Then even if it wavers here,” her cool fingers rose to his temple, “You’ll always go back to it.” Like Keanu, Emma finished off her drink, leaning past him to leave her glass next to his, her other hand still on his face, then cupping his cheek.

“What if……” He mulled on his words, letting them rattle around in his mind fitfully before spilling, “What if what makes me happy, and what’s right in here,” he reached out, pressing two fingers to the center of Y/n’s chest, just above her breasts though still where he could feel her heartbeat, “Are two different things?”

A lump had settled in her throat and a minute part of Y/n knew where things were going, while everywhere else screamed that they shouldn’t have gotten there in the first place. Keanu was her boss, her engaged boss. Yet still, she couldn’t find it in herself to tear her hand away from his face, or push him off her. “They’re always the same thing,” sparing the city of love one last glance, Emma shifted her sights to Keanu, stoking the apple of his cheek, marveling at the way he tilted into the softness of her hand and barely noticing the way his hand had slid up to cup her neck. “Maybe you’re confused right now, but they're always the same.”

“I’m so confused right now,” Keanu confessed, closing the final inches of space. They were lost in each other’s stares and at that point, there was probably nothing in the world that could push them apart. With his hand on her neck, she could feel his callouses and his warmth, radiating, doing more than the finest spirits ever could. The cloud of air between them was tainted with the aroma of expensive booze, still clinging to their hot breaths, mingling with the smell of smoked cigarettes and the alluring fragrance of Emma’s perfume. With every exhale, their chests touched, ever so slightly.

“What do you want?” Emma nudged, licking her lips when Keanu’s face drew closer, tilting her head so she’d grant him access, anticipating what would happen next.

“I want…….” He furrowed his brows again, “I want to be happy.”

“Then be happy,” and that was all it took; the final thread snapped and her words were the permission he’d been seeking. And though, all along, Emma sensed it would happen, when Keanu’s lips were finally laid on hers, she was completely and utterly surprised. They started slow, locking and moving in tandem at a most leisurely pace, though as the pair felt each other out, Keanu’s free hand found the dip of Emma’s waist while she clutched a fistful of his shirt, the silky fabric wrinkling in her grasp, the air took on a new heat and their kiss grew steamy. Six months worth of almosts and boiling tension just swirled around them, pressing them together, and when his tongue broke past her lips, sliding over hers, Emma moaned into Keanu’s mouth.

No one had ever tasted like that, like their lips were meant to spar with hers, no hands ever fit so well on her body. Wrapping his tie around her fist, Emma yanked him closer and they stumbled back. By then their longer, passionate kisses were punctuated by shorter, sweeter pecks, and all she wanted was for him to hoist her up into his strong arms and press her against the cold glass.

Then it hit her; the criminality of what they were doing. Miranda already hated her, and she was going to marry Keanu. That make out session alone was putting her job on the line, the job that she so desperately needed. Logic kicked in and without warning, Emma was letting go of Keanu’s tie and pushing him away. He looked just as frayed as she was, and even a little hurt, “We shouldn’t…...this is wrong. We can’t do this,” Her whispered words were more to convince herself, and before Keanu could respond, Emma was apologizing, turning away from him and scuttling out of the room.

“Em,” he tried to call after her, but it was too late, Emma was already gone, and Keanu had a feeling that things had just gotten way more complicated than he could have ever imagine.

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[favoriteblogonthecitadel]

31, 49, 70, 72 for Xiomara!! 🥰🥰🥰

These were a lot of fun to think through!! Tysm for asking ❤️

Like before, I'm putting all the answers to the questions under the cut :)

31. How patient is your character with others? Do they find it easy to handle people that try and bug them, or hard?

49. Do they have any religious/spiritual beliefs? What are they? How did they come to believe in them?

70. When it comes to clothing, what’s their style? Do they prefer natural or formal? Skinny or baggy clothes?

72. Do they like to read? If so, what’s their favourite genre? Favourite author? Favourite book?

31. How patient is your character with others? Do they find it easy to handle people that try and bug them, or hard?

Haha, this one is relative. Xiomara charges into life and expects people around her to keep up if they want a good view. She also likes solving problems. You know Cassandra’s DAI quote, “I see what needs to be done and I do it. I see no point in running around like a dog chasing its tail”? That’s Xiomara. But from a leadership perspective, she knows she cannot afford to run off as she pleases – she’s responsible for her crew. If she wants her people at her best, she needs patience to meet each of them where they’re at and guide them to where she needs them to be, but that part of command is hard for her. There is a lot of "tough love" involved in her leadership style. Kaidan is a good counter-balance to her and provides the softer care the crew needs.

As for people trying to bug her, she brushes off regular bullies with minimal engagement. Insults are inconsequential to her. It’s harder for her to tolerate someone who tries to patronize her and/or control how she does her job. So… yeah, her relationship with the Council starts off dicey, plummets when they continue to disregard her warnings even after she “saved their bureaucratic asses,” and then gets somewhat mended when the war leaves no choice but to work together. She also butts heads with The Illusive Man consistently (treating people like they’re disposable + micromanaging + condescension = she wants to rip his head off). It’s fun to watch her tell those people off because she gets so petty.

49. Do they have any religious/spiritual beliefs? What are they? How did they come to believe in them?

She’s not very spiritual or religious. I could say it’s because of her tough upbringing and all, and she can be cynical sometimes, but her temperament just happens to be pretty grounded in tangible reality. To her, seeing is believing. She has a strong intuition about some things, like people’s motivations, but lacks the kind of deeper, intrinsic sense of connectedness to a universal greater force. She’s not sure if there’s some piece missing in her, or if other people simply find comfort relying on the kind of blind faith that she can’t bring herself to trust. Religious doctrines and beliefs can be intriguing to her, though; she’s as willing to entertain debates and conversation about that as she is about anything else, as long as it is civil and based on concrete examples. After getting the visions from the Prothean beacon, wrapping her head around the magnitude of the Reaper problem overwhelms and humbles her, so I’d label her as agnostic from ME1 onward.

70. When it comes to clothing, what’s their style? Do they prefer natural or formal? Skinny or baggy clothes?

I don’t know a lot of fashion lingo, but after a deep-dive into Pinterest, I think I can best describe her style as “athleisure meets grunge meets baddie!” Xo favors practicality and comfort, but always with some kind of twist inspired by street styles (plus a touch of Chicana vibes), and ranging from femme to androgynous: a mix-and-match of jeans, joggers, tank tops, bralettes, hoodies, edgy jackets, sneakers or combat boots, and statement jewelry. It’s less a matter of looking “natural” versus “effortful” and more about somehow looking hot and tough at the same time. This applies to both casual and formal – she will rock the occasional suit, though it will be loose, easy to move in, and fairly bold in design. Her wardrobe palette has a lot of black, gray, and red, plus gold accessories. She loves piercings and hoops, but since her combat style is close-range (and she’s not a fan of getting earrings ripped off by force), she only wears them off-duty and enjoys them a lot in those cases.

72. Do they like to read? If so, what’s their favourite genre? Favourite author? Favourite book?

She used to be one of those people that snickered at the concept of reading (mainly because she struggled in school and was a proud little shit about it), though she always low-key found adventure and thriller books interesting when she had to read for classes. She just has a limited attention span for things that require sitting still and spending long periods of time in abstraction – she likes what she can see and feel firsthand, and argues you can learn most of what you need from real life, by interacting with people or paying attention to what’s happening around you. As she matures and advances in her military career, she has no choice but to learn to tolerate some reading (reports, news, databases); this acts as a gateway for her to become interested in other stuff, like memoirs and accounts of galactic events. When she discovers that Kaidan likes comic books and fantasy novels, she gives them a try and ends up loving the ones with pictures. He nerds out about the fictional heroes’ tech gadgets and feats of bravery; she comments on their cool moves and ridiculous strategies.

Link to the main post here! ✨

[mattdillon-enthusiast]

i have no idea how to use tumble at all, i literally use it to look at the outsiders incorrect quotes but uh i thought i’d post a fanfic i wrote for my oc, arabella and dallas so enjoy.

Title: Death Pact - Dallas Winston One Shot

Warnings: Death, Suicide and Mentions Of Abuse

Word Count: 2,189

Everything went in slow motion as Dallas raised his unloaded heater, an idiot that kid was, they don’t know he’s bluffing. As the bullets from the surrounding police officers made their impact, memories of the years spent by Dallas’ side flashed before my very eyes, years of love, adoration, thrills, adventures and memories all gone within the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, you, Johnny and Ponyboy are all seen as hero’s now” I spoke, walking over to sit on the side of his hospital bed looking over at Tim for a moment before looking back at Dallas. Dallas looked annoyed hearing himself being called a hero, he muttered a few incoherent things under his breath, most likely curses on how he was anything but a hero.

“Any word on when they are going to let you out?” Tim asked, thinking of tonight being the rumble, meaning he needed any man he could get his hands on. Dallas was surely one of the best he’d be able to get.

Dallas sighed, shaking his head as he lowered his gaze. He ran a hand through his hair, knowing this would disappoint Tim and I, just in different ways. “Suck’s about the rumble, Man.”

Dallas and I both cared about Johnny a lot, Dallas more than me by a long shot. We saw so much of ourselves in him, but definitely more Dallas. I could only hope that Johnny would be okay… but hope wasn’t enough.

Merely a week ago, we were helping Johnny and Ponyboy go on the run. Couldn’t believe Johnny had actually done it at first, seeing the two walk into Dallas and I’s room at Buck’s Pony soaking wet, freezing I offered him one of Buck’s shirts we had laying around, Dallas gave him his brown jacket.

I checked one of our drawers for some cash, counted fifty and Dallas explained how to get to a hideout location. I handed the money to Johnny, “Should be enough for you to buy a week’s supply of food, when you get there you need to get food before your descriptions are put in the paper.”

Dallas got up from his potion on the bed and went to get his gun, his loaded one. He handed that to Johnny as well. “Don’t point it at me for Pete’s sake Johnny, it’s loaded!”

“Pony, do Darry and Sodapop know about this?” Dally asked as he took a seat on the bed again, pulling out a cancer stick and match using his Christoper to light it. He took a drag as Pony shook his head, “I’m not itching to be the one to tell them and get my head kicked in”

“Don’t tell them then” Ponyboy replied settling with the new shirt and jacket on.

That night neither Dallas nor I got much sleep, we laid in bed thinking, hoping that Johnny and Pony would be okay. We had sworn ourselves to secrecy, no one would know that night had happened the way it did other than the four of us.

Just over two months before that night, Dallas went to prison. “Yeah well, I don’t want to see him serving a sentence longer than a couple of days,” Dallas told me. We had been discussing him taking the blame for busting out the windows of the local high school, everyone knew Two-Bit had been the one to do it.

“But Dal, you know they aren’t going to give you a slap on the wrist this time around” I sighed.

“I can handle it, been in and out since I was ten, you know that Bella,” Dallas said, as he emptied his pockets, putting his heater in one of his drawers. “Plus, sounds like something they’d think I’d do. I’ll get hauled in soon enough, it’s easier to just turn myself in”

I walked over to him, putting my arms around his waist holding him. I always hated when he went to jail, normally I could find my own entertainment between visits but it was never the same without him. I always missed him. “You know the gang will keep you company if need be, Tim is always open to you spend the night at his.” He told me.

“Yeah, Yeah. I’ll miss you though” I replied as he turned to put his arms around me.

I know most wouldn’t look at Dallas and think ‘that man is romantic’, but he sure could be sometimes, I originally never thought he’d be one to plan dates months in advance. Sure took me by surprise the first time he put so much dedication into a night out. We were back in Tulsa for about six months at that point, he took me out for dinner at the Dingo which was common so I thought it be an average night out. We didn’t stay for milkshakes after which was odd because milkshakes were always how we ended the night. We headed out to Buck’s car which we had borrowed for the night and he took me on a drive.

Listening to Elvis on the radio as we drove around Tulsa, we spent the drive singing along to the radio, talking or just enjoying the moment until we pulled up at one of the nearby lakes, there was a picnic blanket set out with a basket. He’d paid one of the guys to set this up while we had gone to dinner. There were beers, strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate. God this man had my heart. The night was spent there before we went swimming which started out innocently enough, can’t say it ended that way.

I of course am Dallas’ partner in crime, I was a relatively well-behaved kid until Dallas and I moved to New York. We got ourselves into so much trouble, we were involved in a gang, got into gang fights often, robbed stores, and even got wrapped up in a murder cover-up.

“Bella, stay right there,” Dallas said, as he peaked out of an alleyway. We had stolen dinner from a gas station, we’d had to spend the last of our winnings from our latest gambling on rent, after a day and a half of not eating we had to result to stealing. The police had been called, stupidly enough, all we stole were chips and soda, quite the overreaction if you ask me. We took some alleyways on our way back, he was just checking for cop cars.

“Shit…” Dallas muttered. He turned back to me, “Back this way, we have to walk down to the next alleyway”

Before we even had the chance to move, we heard someone yell in our direction. There were two police officers calling out to us and walking in our direction. Dallas and I looked at each other for only a split second before we bolted down the alleyway. The dark alleyway echoed with our laughter as we did.

The officers were so caught off guard that they hadn’t reacted nearly as fast, so they trailed further behind them. The alley ahead of us split off into three directions, we had to think fast and had to split up. I went for the alley that would take me closer to our apartment while he took the one that would cause him to have to run around almost an entire block. We exchanged a glance that could only be interrupted as ‘be safe’.

I hadn’t been followed, both officers trailed Dallas allowing me to get back without any troubles. I couldn’t touch my food once I got back, not till I knew that he was okay. I sat on our mattress on the floor which my eyes on the door. Every apartment we owned was a room with a bathroom attached, never anything special we couldn’t afford anything bigger.

For an hour I waited for him to return, when he did he had a cut just above his eyebrow, bleeding down his face and a massive grin on his face. He almost gave me a heart attack, I think I lost years of natural life from that experience and many more similar.

There were so many memories of New York, we spent three years there and they were the best years of my life by far. From ages 13 to 16, I spent every day and night filled with the thrills of running away from home, gangs and falling madly in love with Dallas Winston.

I remember the night Dallas and I admitted being in love with one another. This was about a month into moving to New York, we had known each other for about seven months at this point. Dallas and I moved to New York two months after my mother’s death, we weren’t very close at that point and the only reason why I ran away was because I had a fight with my father, he pulled a gun on me. I turned to Dallas, knowing that I couldn’t hide with the Curtis’ they were too close with my father. He wanted to flee his own father, so that’s how we ended up in New York.

This particular night we had been out with friends, on our walk home it had started to rain so by the time we ended up soaked. We collapsed on the floor, staring up at the ceiling laughing about something I had said before we entered the room which really isn’t important to the moment. Dallas turned his head to face me, using his hand he turned me to face him.

“I don’t think I can hide this from you any longer, Arabella.” He said, we stared into each other’s eyes and for the first time I saw him nervous. “I love you, Bella.”

I almost couldn’t believe it. Dallas admitting his love for me, he returned the feelings that I had been so unsure of. “I love you too, Dally”

We laid there as moments passed, continuing the staring as the grins grew on our faces. He was the one to break the silence, the words that would impact the ending of the situation I currently find myself in.

“I propose… a death pact. I know right now I want to spend my time with nobody other than you and I never want you to be with anyone else.” Dallas said. He’d mentioned how the idea of marriage made him sick.

If this was anyone else, I would have laughed in their face and told them they were crazy. But.. I was also not in the best state of mind. Dallas was the only person keeping me here, after my mother’s death and my father becoming the way he was my only stability was him and if he was to go, I’d want to follow. “Let’s do it”

“If you die, I’ll kill myself... If I die… you do the same” Dallas said drawing out the only real rule.

Bringing me back to now, after witnessing Johnny’s death at the hospital after the rumble Dallas broke. Johnny was gone, and everything came crumbling down for him. He ran out before I could stop him leaving Pony and I to walk back to the Curtis’ to share the awful news. We had been back for only a few minutes before Dallas called, and once Darry told us we bolted from the park. I ran as fast as my feet would carry me.

“Dallas!” I yelled seeing him running, he stopped in his tracks under a street lamp. I swear I saw him look at me as he raised his unloaded heater. A fool, that’s what my love was, a blasted fool. The officers didn’t know his bluff, shots fired and Dallas fell. He was gone before we could even make it to him.

Darry was yelling, something about Dallas just being a kid. Most couldn’t control the tears that raised in their eyes or the sobs that left their mouths as we neared his body. Every memory with Dallas from this moment backwards went through my mind in a flash. Suddenly Dallas’ voice filled my head, ‘If you die, I’ll kill myself... If I die… you do the same’’. I had to honour the pact.

Tears fell down my cheeks and I choked out sobs. I turned to Darry and then to Pony, “I’m so sorry.. But I promised Dallas” I said.

I grabbed Dallas’ heater took a few steps forwards, before raising the heater at the nearest officer. It didn’t hurt when I was shot, it felt like I’d had a pebble thrown at me but I assume that was just because of the shock. I fell to the ground and the last thing I heard was Pony’s voice.

“Not Bella too”

[tenthgrove]

L'inizio- A La Squadra Backstory Collection

Chapter 3: Due Cuori (Sorbet & Gelato Part 1)

Word Count: ~3800

Warnings: parental abandonment, homelessness, mildly-suggestive behaviour

The young boy sobs into the bag he’s carrying as he flees down the dark, damp street. The quick-paced footsteps of his pursuer sound loudly as they smack against the wet concrete. The boy prays for some rain to cover the sounds of his panting and running, but he knows such luck will not be afforded to him.

He is out of his depth in this part of Naples. Not yet 14, he’s one of many such young fools who thought it would be easy to snatch a little money from one of the smaller street gangs that roam this part of the town, making the crucial mistake of thinking ‘smaller’ was synonymous with less relentless. The boy has barely a moment to comprehend the dead end ahead of him before he is knocked sharply around the back of his head and sent reeling to the floor.

“Where the hell is my money, you shit?!” the angered man interrogates him sharply. He rears a clenched fist ready to strike him again, and the boy cowers against the wall.

“It’s there! Right there!” he shrieks desperately, pointing at the back dropped at his side. The man spits. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gun. “I swear Signor! The money’s there!” the boy pleads, his voice hitching in mortal terror. The man scoffs venomously.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Two shots ring out, but they aren’t aimed at the boy. The man’s blood splashes over him as he chokes on it, falling to the ground without a word. The boy counts two wounds on the man’s back.

The figure at the end of the alleyway lowers his gun and begins to approach. He is somewhere on the boundary between boyhood and manhood, perhaps about 18, at a first guess. He is darkly dressed, with hair to match, and he returns his weapon to his pocket with a detached smoothness that suggests great experience with the murderous act. He leans over the boy and picks up his bag, smiling in satisfaction at the wad of cash crudely jammed inside. He zips the bag up and hauls it over his shoulder.

“Grazie,” he thanks him, turning away and beginning his journey back down the alleyway.

He does not walk far before he reaches his destination- a small house in a densely packed row just a street away. He knocks calmly, and the door soon opens.

“Ah, Sorbet,” the responder answers. “I thought I’d heard gunfire.”

“’Evening Gabriele,” he greets him, sorting off some of the money in his hands. “20,000 lire says I can stay the night.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Gabriele agrees with a small chuckle. “Come right in, friend.”

Sorbet removes his jacket and seats himself down on the sofa, shuffling the bag protectively behind his legs. He takes off his own bag as well and pilfers through to find the chewing gum he’s been saving for this evening.

“May I ask how you still haven’t found a place of your own? Surely you must be rolling in it from all that blood money you’ve got lately. Hell,” he remarks, eyeing the money poking out from behind Sorbet’s lap. “You could probably sort yourself out for a couple months on that alone.”

“You can certainly ask,” Sorbet answers apathetically.

“Well?”

Sorbet looks at him contemplatively before deciding he’s in the mood for compliance tonight. He leans back.

“To put it simply I’ve just been out of it too long. ‘Don’t have my birth certificate, ‘don’t have any documents of that sort. I left home at 14 and frankly I’d be shocked if I wasn’t legally dead by now. Well, assuming my mum was ever lucid enough to do the paperwork, that is.”

“You could rent a flat from the gang. They’d hardly say no to you,” Gabriele suggests.

“Not really a fan of that sort of obligation, Gabe,” Sorbet refutes him. “Besides, the quote on quote ‘buildings’ the gang owns get busted by the cops all the time. I hardly wanna deal with that at 1 in the morning.”

“True,” Gabriele snorts. A knock sounds at the door. “Who the fuck at this time of night?” he gripes.

“No idea, but have fun with them,” Sorbet says, getting to his feet. “I’m off to help myself to your shower,” he announces, departing up the stairs. Gabriele answers the door.

“H-Hello,” the newcomer greets. It’s another teenager, with messy blond hair and a sky of freckles. He shivers into his thin jacket, hand red-raw from clutching his heavy bag. “Are you Gabriele?” he asks.

“Who’s asking?” Gabriele says with scrutiny.

“My name is Gelato, sir. You don’t know me, but I know a friend of yours from Florence, well, small village outside of Florence, I’m sure you know which one I mean. I heard from him you wanted to get someone to do errands for you and well, I was wondering if I could do that for you,” the boy offers. There’s a wild look in his desperate green eyes, and Gabriele knows this won’t end quickly for him.

“Kid, that was weeks ago! What the hell took you so long?” he asks.

“It’s not my fault I had to walk here!” Gelato protests. “Look, I got kicked out by my parents, I’m only 17 and if you don’t help me I’ll have nowhere to go!” he pleads.

“That’s rough and all, but the job’s closed. Go find a shelter or something.”

“PLEASE!” Gelato begs. He’s trembling, but there’s a touch of anger in his eyes as he glares at him that makes Gabriele mildly scared to turn him down.

“Look, I have neither the need nor the money for another errand boy right now. But, now I think of it I do know a guy who needs someone to manage a bar for him. Make no mistake, it’s nothing more than a meet-up spot for the gang so don’t expect anything fancy, but I think it has a flat upstairs. Maybe you can ask to move into the place as your pay.”

“A bar? That’s perfect!” Gelato enthuses. “Thank you thank you so much!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’m happy for you. Now If I go give the guy a call will you please piss off?” Gabriele entreats him.

“Anything you say sir! Thank you!” Gelato agrees. Gabriele heads for his phone with a sigh.

::::::::::::

An hour later, Gelato finds himself in the staff-only section of what was once a fully functioning bar.

“Look kid, it’s not hard stuff,” his guide tells him. “Just keep ‘em drunk enough they can’t kill each other and ring me up if you hear any talk the boss ought to here,” he explains.

“Yes sir, I will,” Gelato answers dutifully. The man opens a rickety door leading to a thin, steep staircase. Gelato follows him up.

“And, this is the flat you were so eager about,” the man announces, looking over the dark, dust-filled space of the bare-bones apartment. There’s a frightful stain on the sofa, and one of the kitchen cabinet doors is hanging on one hinge. “Consider yourself lucky I’m letting you have it when I could be giving it to someone who pays. Don’t expect a penny more from me, this is your full payment,” he continues.

“But how will I eat?” Gelato protests.

“I guess you better hope they tip you good,” the man answers apathetically. “Look, if you do a good job and don’t piss me off, maybe I can spare a few thousand lire a night later on, but until then, you’re getting no more help from me,” he maintains. “Maybe you should learn to pickpocket. ‘Useful skill to have around here.”

Gelato growls inwardly. Of course he knows how to pickpocket! Well- how to pickpocket 13 year olds outside a school gate. Grown men might be a different matter, but he’ll figure it out. Getting caught can’t be much worse than what happened when his parents found out.

“Alright. Thanks,” Gelato forces himself to say. The man gives a satisfied nod and exits.

“Make sure you know where everything is before you open at 9,” he says.

Gelato seeks out the bedroom and lies down, not caring how musty the frayed sheets smell. He grabs the pillow and hugs it close to him like a stuffed toy. It occurs to him that he’s scared.

::::::::::::

It takes him a month to accept his parents aren’t taking him back, two to stop fucking up every day of his life and three to feel some sense of normalcy in his new life at the bar. That’s not to say he’s happy, by any means, simply that he holds onto his current existence with a vice-grip, for fear that things could only get worse if he shook the boat too much.

He sleeps until noon, usually, leaves the house as soon as he’s awake enough to do so and just walks. Anywhere. Sometimes he tries to pickpocket but ever since that beating he earned from a poorly chosen victim, he saves it for his most desperate days. After lunch, if he has any, he sometimes goes to the library. He was never much of a scholar and rarely reads, but he finds the place more pleasant to dissociate in than his apartment.

Should he feel like treating himself, he occasionally visits the arcade when he has the change to spare. After it became clear letting him waste away was not in the landlord’s best interests if he wanted his bar to stay running, he began to help a little with food costs but nowhere near enough for such frivolous outings to be frequently affordable.

Around 3pm, Gelato goes home and sleeps until his hunger forces him to get up and eat. He likes to make a start early on setting up the bar, and cleaning it from the messes of its previous nights patrons, so he tries to begin by 7. It opens at 9 and closes at 2, after which Gelato will shower, and spend a short stretch of time watching the old, boxy TV he pulled out of the attic in bed, before sleeping.

As he exits the cellar, he receives a few apathetic glances from some of the patrons but ultimately nothing much. His eyes are on the far corner of the bar where, to perhaps less of his concern than it should be, two men are engaged in a heated argument. It’s a sight he’s well used to now, but he keeps a keen watch on the men, since the landlord insisted he de-escalate anything that looks like it may prove fatal.

“I don’t care what your excuses are! We had a deal and you’re going to fucking pay me!” The first man shouts. He is one of the younger ones, probably little older than Gelato but with an air of authority more akin to some of the older individuals in the mob. He has heard whispers about this man- his name is Sorbet and he is an enforcer. The mobsters are cautious about the word ‘assassin’, it makes them sound like a more ambitious group than they truly are, one that could be deemed a threat by the larger syndicates that truly control this city. Yet, Gelato reads between the lines when they talk about the things Sorbet has done. As Gelato approaches Sorbet’s eyes flick towards him momentarily. Gelato shies away from the eye contact and feels an odd feeling inside him. Seeing Sorbet always makes him feel odd. He doesn’t dare speak to him directly.

“Whatever. It ain’t on me if you misread what we were talking about. You did me a favour, nothing more,” the second man retorts. He’s another regular, as familiar to Gelato, if not more, than Sorbet is, even if he doesn’t know him by name. He is a cruel man, impatient and aggressive whenever he visits. Gelato always tremors a little when he comes through the door.

Still, he scares him less than Sorbet.

Gelato forces a smile as he approaches the second man.

“Pardon me, could I get you any more-” he inhales sharply as the half-full bottle of wine is chucked over him.

“Yes, one more of these,” the man orders coldly. Gelato wipes his eyes.

“Right away,” he nods, turning back towards the cellar and fighting every fibre of his being telling him not to let this slide.

Gelato descends into the cellar, shaking from the cold of his wet clothes and anger. As he pulls a new bottle off the shelf he wonders briefly if he ought to piss in it, but decides the best result that could come of that is having it thrown over him again. He pats down his shirt and takes the bottle back up to the bar.

He knows what has happened before the door is even open. The sound of shouting is familiar to him, and if the past few minutes is anything to go by, it’s Sorbet and that petulant man’s feud which has turned violent. Opening the door proves his theory, as a small crowd has formed around Sorbet and his opponent as they engage in a relentless match of fists.

Gelato debates to himself. He could put down the bottle and run, he could try and calm the men down and risk one or both of them turning their anger on him, or he could use this opportunity to finally get back at that bastard’s disrespect. Gelato’s never been much of a thinking sort. His mind doesn’t take long to settle on the third option. He rears the bottle above his head and charges.

There’s a collective gasp of shock as Gelato suddenly crashes into the man, smashing the bottle over the back of his skull with full strength. It shatters, and the man falls to the floor with a groan. Gelato looks up at Sorbet, briefly fearing his interference may have provoked anger but, Sorbet only smiles.

Gelato rushes to his feet just in time to join his new ally in kicking the man, again and again until he starts to spit blood. Gelato picks up the remains of the bottle’s base and pours out the remaining liquid onto his enemy’s face in one, final insult. The crowd cheers. Evidently this man was not so popular with the gang after all.

Gelato sits down, whoozy from exhaustion and adrenaline. He finds himself laughing. He cannot recall the last time he’s done that. Sorbet leans down and pulls a stack of cash from the unconscious man’s pocket.

“Lying bastard,” he scoffs. “He did have the money. Probably a lot more than I asked for, but I can hardly complain about that.” Sorbet turns to Gelato with a look of deliberation. He pulls out one of the 50,000 lire bills and hands it to him with a smile.

“For your trouble,” he declares. He withdraws his hand with a slow deliberateness, their fingertips touching for just the briefest of seconds. The odd feeling Gelato has felt since laying eyes on Sorbet returns with a vengeance, and yet, Gelato can feel nothing but awe as it begins to eat his heart.

Oh dear. Gelato might have a crush.

::::::::::::

It is three days later to the hour, that Gelato finds himself hauled into the cellar and pinned against the wall, mouth agape in shock as Sorbet digs his fingers into his neck. It occurs to Gelato he might have gone about this the wrong way.

“Alright, spit it out,” Sorbet demands. “What the hell was that up there?”

“Pardon?” Gelato pleads fearfully.

“Did you think I would let you get away with mocking me like that?” Sorbet asks through gritted teeth. Gelato’s mind turns to the myriad of weapons no doubt hidden in Sorbet’s clothes. That thought shouldn’t endear him as much as it does.

“Mocking?”

“Oh? Is there another explanation for why you would behave like that around me? Humiliate me in front of half my gang? Well?!” Sorbet entreats him. His grip around his neck tightens

“Flirting! It was flirting!” Gelato confesses desperately. Sorbet’s grip lessens.

“What?”

“Look. I think I like guys, you like guys or at least everyone says you do. And- I think I might like you a lot so- I wanted your attention. I wanted to talk to you again,” Gelato admits sheepishly. His cheeks start to burn, and it isn’t from the lack of oxygen any more.

Sorbet looks like something in his brain must have just blown a fuse. Perhaps Gelato should take this opportunity to run, since this half-assed attempt at seduction is clearly a resounding failure.

But then Sorbet starts to laugh. It’s a low, quiet laugh but nonetheless genuine as he fixes his eyes warmly on the floor.

“Oh you dear thing. That isnot how this works,” he says. Gelato breathes out in relief, as well as a little disappointment.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. This was stupid I should- probably just go back to my work,” he apologises. His body goes still as Sorbet touches a hand to his cheek.

“Though if you ever want my attention again,” he leans in and presses his lips lightly against Gelato’s. “You should just ask.”

Sorbet lets out a little hum of amusement at the sight of Gelato’s shock. He caresses his face once more, touching his finger to a little curl of hair as he does so, before finally freeing Gelato from his hold.

“See you later,” he promises, before leaving him alone in the cellar. Above him, Gelato hears Sorbet walk out in the direction of the front door. Gelato collects himself, and calmly wanders over to the sink, waiting patiently for it to fill with water.

He sticks his head in and screams.

::::::::::::

Sorbet visits the bar twice weekly, no different from before. But he starts visiting Gelato more often. Barely a week from their first kiss, they are in bed together, Gelato clinging onto his new love tightly as he reads. This touch is alien to him and in spite of his joy, he cannot help but quiver as Sorbet pets his hair. He wonders how he ever lived his life without knowing joy this strong.

Their second week is easier. They both start to become accustomed to this newfound love and no longer think of each other as strangers. Gelato knows Sorbet’s full name now, he knows which street he grew up on and the names and ages of each of his siblings. Sorbet knows what Gelato’s parents did for a living. He knows the name of the boy he had his first real fight with, and the therapist who tried and failed to relieve him of the ‘learning disabilities’ that made his parents despise him so deeply. Sorbet tries to at least drop in on most days, but when he can’t, he calls Gelato to tell him where he’s staying for the night. Gelato thinks of him as he falls asleep, hugging his pillow close.

By week three, the pair have found a new normal together. Sorbet sleeps over more often than not, and the bar patrons now know full well not to cause Gelato trouble when Sorbet is in the building. Sorbet has made every aspect of Gelato’s life more enjoyable, and he can see in Sorbet’s eyes that the feeling goes both ways. Gelato knows why Sorbet left home four years ago, and Sorbet knows how Gelato really wants to get revenge of his parents for abandoning him. On precisely day 19 of their affair, Gelato asked Sorbet if he planned to keep doing this with him forever. Sorbet did not hesitate in saying yes.

It’s a few days later that Sorbet comes to the bar with an especially warm smile on his usually cold face. Gelato thought little of putting down his current orders to rush over and greet him at the door.

“Sorbet, you’re here early!” Gelato enthuses. Sorbet pecks his cheek.

“I thought we might spend a night to ourselves. I think you need it, Caro.”

“But Sorbet, the bar doesn’t close for three more hours yet!” Gelato reminds him.

“Not if I can help it.”

Sorbet raises his gun and fires it twice at the ceiling. The patrons look up in fear. “Alright, everyone out. Bar’s closed,” he announces. The patrons sheepishly get to their feet and file out.

“But, the landlord!” Gelato protests.

“Fuck the landlord. If he has a problem with this, he goes through me,” Sorbet maintains. Gelato’s breath escapes him with a laugh and he follows him upstairs.

“Really, tell me,” Gelato insists light-heartedly. “What’s brought this on?” He turns around and his face falls to see that Sorbet is looking saddened.

“I- saw my siblings today,” he announces.

“Are they… okay?” Gelato asks worriedly.

“Oh, they’re fine. I saw them down at the cafe, they didn’t notice me. Taking a look at the other ones, I’m assuming the older ones are getting better at taking care of them. It makes sense, given the ages they’re getting to. The issue is… there was another baby, this time, who wasn’t there before,” Sorbet reveals. “Probably just a month or so old, from the looks of her.”

“Sorbet…”

“My sister,” Sorbet says, bringing his head into his hands. “And I don’t even know her name!”

“Sorbet,” Gelato says, taking his head in his own hands. “It isn’t your fault the way your mother is. Looking after them isn’t your responsibility.”

“It was,” Sorbet reminds him. “Then I left.”

“Look, I’m sure they’re fine,” Gelato reiterates. “Believe me when I say there are many worse things older siblings can do than just not look after you. Now,” he begins. “How about that night we were going to have together,” he smiles.

“Right,” Sorbet recalls, pecking him on the nose. “It’s you I came to see.”

Sorbet leans forward and kisses him deeply. Gelato, so recently a stranger to the sensation, leans in further to the kiss, pawing teasingly at Sorbet’s chest to urge him on. Sorbet groans to the kiss, hooking a hand around Gelato’s collar. Downstairs, something crashes loudly.

Sorbet pulls back. He sees Gelato’s eyes widen in fear as a parade of footsteps stumble into the building. Sorbet presses a kiss to his cheek reassuringly.

“Stay calm,” he urges him. “Not a sound.”

Sorbet stands up and, watching his feet on the old floorboards, moves over to the window to peer outside.

“Shit!” he exclaims, ducking away out of view.

“What is it?” Gelato whispers.

“The police. Two cars.”

“Are they here for us?” Gelato asks, voice hitching in fear. Sorbet shakes his head quickly.

“Unlikely. They most likely thought the place was empty. If we are quick, we can still leave without them seeing us,” he promises. Gelato shrinks back.

“I’m scared,” he admits. Sorbet takes his hand in his.

“Just stay with me okay? I’ll protect you.”

[jubesy]

Hi! I’ve really loved your other drabbles for matcha blossom! If this is still open, I was hoping you might do 4. “Is that my shirt?” for them next. Thank you so much!

Ah, thank you so much, dear anon! And yes, quote drabble requests are still open. This one is so perfect for them!

Great minds think alike with this request! And I’m sure your work would have been lovely, anon! But thank you for trusting me with this prompt~

This is technically two requests, so it’s okay that it ran long, right??

Matcha Blossom #4 “Is that my shirt?”

Also available on Ao3.

Request a drabble here!

“I knew I should have listened to Carla,” Cherry groused, wrapping his arms protectively around his board as Joe fished into his soaked and now very much skin-tight pocket for his key. They were drenched. “I had her check the weather forecast and everything,” Cherry continued.

“Yeah, well, she said it was only a sixty percent chance,” Joe offered, unlocking his door and stepping inside. Cherry followed, without waiting for an invitation. “Besides, it wasn’t like Adam had called it, so--” 

Cherry harrumphed, glaring up at Joe through the bangs plastered to his forehead.

They’d been at ‘S’, both ready to challenge their old friend to a beef, when the sky opened up. It was a scramble after that and Joe had ended up giving Cherry a ride home, since his place was closer.

And now they were standing in his entryway, dripping onto the floor. 

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Cherry said after a moment. “Get us some towels. Who raised you?”

Joe rolled his eyes and, after slipping off his shoes, he walked down the hall to grab towels from the linen closet. When he returned, Cherry grabbed one and immediately started drying his board. Honestly, the tech maniac. 

While his childhood friend fussed over his robot girlfriend, Joe shrugged off his jacket, wincing as it plopped heavily onto the floor. He’d have to mop later. But right now, he needed to get out of his sopping clothes. He dropped his pants next and then peeled off his underwear and socks. It was not a pleasant feeling, but at least he could dry himself off now.

“You could have gone to your room,” Cherry’s voice caught Joe’s attention just as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

He turned toward him, quirking a brow. “You already made me drip down the hallway. You expect me to flood the entire apartment?” It was dark. He hadn’t turned the lights on yet. But the faint magenta glow from Cherry’s board gave Joe the impression that he was blushing. 

“Anyway,” Cherry changed the subject. “I’m borrowing an outlet.” But before he could take a step, Joe reached for his arm, halting him.

“What did I say about dripping all over the apartment?” he asked, holding his hands up when Cherry jerked away from him. “Here, hand her over and I’ll plug her in.”

Hesitantly, Cherry passed his board to him. “Very well,” he said, fingers still gripping the edge. “But do be careful with her, she’s--”

Joe clicked his tongue with a shake of his head. “Come now, Kaoru. I’m always gentle when women are involved.” He shot him a wink, ignoring the daggers glared his way, and went to set Cherry’s precious Carla to charge.

When Joe returned, Cherry was still in the entryway, doing his best to wring out his hair and towel himself down.

“You know, you’ll find you dry a lot easier if you take off your wet clothes,” Joe suggested.

Cherry sighed. “Unlike some people, I don’t just strip off my clothing whenever the opportunity arises.” But despite having all that heat in his words, even the Great Cherry blossom couldn’t hide the fact that he was shivering.

“C’mere,” Joe said, reaching out and taking the towel. But Cherry didn’t budge. “Don’t be stubborn, Kaoru,” Joe ground out. “Your scrawny ass is going to get sick.”

That got him. He drew closer, poking Joe right in the center of his bare chest. “I’m not scrawny, you puffed up half wit.” He jabbed him with every syllable. It kind of hurt. Not that Joe would admit it.

“Listen, I get it,” Joe said instead, taking a step back. “You don’t want to get naked in front of me.” He gave an overexaggerated sigh. “We can’t all be this confident in our physique…” He flexed just for good measure. “So, I’m going to hop in the shower,” he said. “In the meantime, you can get undressed and then it’ll be your turn. Sound good?”

Cherry didn’t look his way, but nodded. Now, was that so hard? But Joe knew when to push and, as much as he liked to tease him, it was getting cold just standing there in a towel.

“I’ll be back in a few,” Joe said as he walked toward his bedroom. The shower felt amazing. He tended to run hot, so the near-scalding water was just what the doctor ordered after getting caught in a storm and standing nearly naked in the cool A/C of his apartment.

Once he was finished, he stepped out and grabbed a fresh towel. However, before he went back into his room, a thought occurred to him. Cherry would probably want to take a bath. So, being the oh-so-thoughtful childhood friend he was, Joe turned on the tap, making sure it wasn’t overly warm, and let the tub fill up. Then he went about his evening routine.

After brushing his teeth, flossing, and gargling mouthwash, the tub was nearly full, so Joe turned off the water and finally exited the bathroom. He figured Cherry would be pretty pissed at him for taking so long. But the fact that he prepared the bath should be enough to smooth things over.

“Hey, Kaoru,” he called, but didn’t find the other where he’d left him. With a frown, Joe walked back toward his bedroom. He didn’t remember leaving the light on, so maybe Cherry had gone in there. “Kaoru, the bath’s rea…” but the rest of the words died on his tongue.

There, sitting on the edge of his mattress with his legs crossed, his arms behind him supporting his weight, was Cherry. But it wasn’t just that the other was on his bed. No. He was wearing a green t-shirt that barely reached midthigh and hung loosely off of one of his shoulders.

Joe swallowed. “Is that my shirt?” he managed, gaze unintentionally being drawn to Cherry’s long, smooth, slender legs.

“Hmn?” Cherry, whose head had been tipped back, turned toward him, blinking his eyes open. “Took you look enough,” he complained before reaching a hand up to rub at his neck. “I was freezing, so I hope you don’t mind that I--”

“I don’t mind,” Joe said quickly and then shook his head. “I filled the tub for you.”

Now, he couldn’t be sure, but was that a slight flush on Cherry’s cheeks? “That was nice of you,” Cherry replied, standing up and walking toward him. The shirt slid down further, revealing more of his pale skin and the jut of his collarbone. “The least you could do, really,” he added, patting Joe on the chest. “I’ll be out in a bit. Think my clothes will be dry by then?”

Ah, so Joe was expected to do laundry, too, it seemed. Well, perhaps it was time to push...just a little. “Hard to say,” he answered, catching Cherry just before he walked into the hall. “But, you’re more than welcome to continue borrowing my shirt until then.” He smirked. “It looks real good on you, Kaoru.”

Nothing beat watching the blush spread across Cherry’s face and down his neck, tinting every inch of visible skin a light pink. Gorgeous. 

“Shut it, you dimwitted gigolo!” he roared and then slammed the door behind him.

Joe chuckled. He was too easy.

BONUS Alternate Version: 

Joe was glad they’d made it to Cherry’s house. Sure, they’d gotten pelted by the heavy rain, but at least they were inside for the worst of it.

“I’m going to take a bath,” Cherry announced after he’d dried Carla off and plugged her in for the night. “You can go when I’m done.”

“Gee thanks,” Joe muttered, but it fell on deaf ears.

After waiting for what felt like ages -- and fighting the chattering of his teeth -- Joe stripped off his drenched, frozen clothes and padded over to Cherry’s bedroom. He figured he’d just grab something until he could defrost in the bath.

But Cherry’s closet was full of traditional clothing. And while Joe felt confident that he could rock any style, they all looked far too fancy. Like he’d get a fan to the back of his head if he so much as touched them. 

Luckily, he found a section of the closet with a few folded t-shirts next to pajama pants. They must have been what Cherry wore to bed. And so, beggars not affording the luxury of being choosers, Joe grabbed the baggiest pair of pants and what he thought was the largest t-shirt.

However, after pulling it over his head, he realized the mistake. “I feel like I’m going to Hulk out of this…”

“Kojiro, the bath is free--” 

Joe turned and met Cherry’s wide-eyed gaze.

“...is that my shirt?”

Request a drabble here!

[a-world-in-grey]

The Goose and the Tailor

(@secret-engima yo I think I might have accidentally written Ardyn a Hand. So, feel free to adopt?)

Penelopeia Lazarus (just call her Penny for Ramuh’s sake) never thought she’d actually get to follow in her grandmother’s footsteps.

The Burning forced them - the few who survived - from their homes, and in Insomnia, everything was so expensive that the Clan couldn’t afford to continue their traditional weaving. Not when money was so scarce in Little Galahd.

At twenty years old, Penny had just finished her apprenticeship under her grandmother, had just presented the intricately woven bolt of fabric in shimmering blues and golds to the Clan Weavers for her mastery project.

The fabric is the only reminder Penny has of her grandmother now. The only reminder of her village’s Weavers.

There hasn’t been a new Weaver since Penny passed her test.

Penny tried. She’d opened a business with two of her Clan, a small tailoring business that could hopefully weave on the side, but they could barely turn a profit. No one in Little Galahd could afford to have their clothing tailored, and the large retail chains that set up just outside Little Galahd set their prices so low that it was simply cheaper to buy new when the low quality fabrics inevitably tore, rather than try to mend it.

Even the sudden windfall from Axis (Mela’s second cousin and Mela was STILL ticked off at him for not telling everyone he’d adopted the king’s eldest and unknown son) bringing his new outfits to them instead of the royal tailors wasn’t enough.

Three years on, and Penny knew there was no way to keep the business open. It felt like losing part of her home all over again.

She’d thought about joining the Kingsglaive - they always needed more recruits, and being a Weaver didn’t mean Penny wasn’t as good at her Clan Dance than any other Lazarus - despite not particularly wanting to go fight for a king she wasn’t loyal to. King Regis wasn’t her Chief.

But the pay was good, and Penny had bills.

She didn’t expect an Insomnian noble to walk into her tiny shop. Oh, the woman was discreet, but Penny knew custom work when she saw it and the woman’s casual outfit was still leagues above what anyone in Little Galahd could afford.

Penny didn’t expect much honestly. Even though the woman brought a handful of items for tailoring - including a gorgeous jacket that might actually give Penny a proper challenge - and surprised Penny when she didn’t try to argue the quoted price, Penny doubted it would be anything more than a one-off thing.

It wasn’t.

The woman - who’d only given her name as Juno and Penny near smacked herself for not paying more attention to noble names - turned out to be Juno Amicitia, Lord Clarus’ wife and Axis’ new step-mother (Penny was going to help Mela throttle Axis for not warning them, Ramuh damn it). And a month after Juno picked up Penny’s work, she came back. But not with clothing.

A job offer. As a royal tailor.

Penny wondered if the world had turned upside down when she wasn’t looking.

Of course it wasn’t that simple. She had to complete a couple years as an apprentice before she would be promoted to an actual royal tailor, but frankly Penny didn’t care. Even the apprentice pay was better than what she made now, enough that she might be able to start weaving again as a hobby in the next three years.

Penny might have to make something nice for Axis as a thank you.

.

Or not.

Ardyn Izunia was a menace.

If it weren’t for the fact the man was the uncle of Axis’ Prince and a staunch ally to the Galahdian refugees, Penny would be sorely tempted to give into the urge to stab the man with a pin. Or twelve.

She wasn’t the only apprentice, but she was the only Galahdian on staff, which meant she got to assigned to Ardyn because no one else wanted to deal with the Niflheim Chancellor.

Frankly, Penny cared less about the man’s position than the fact that he was a grade-A asshole.

And then someone turned Ardyn into a goose.

Penny was going to murder Nyx and Crowe. Slowly. With a bolt pin.

It took all of two hours and one glimpse of the bane of her existence running by with that thrice cursed hat on his back to decide that she refused to deal with this. Ardyn was bad enough normally. She had no desire to get caught up in his shenanigans now that he was a goose.

So she did the only thing she knew that might appease him into leaving her alone.

She made him a hat. A tiny, ugly replica of his usual ugly hat to wear while wreaking utter havoc around the Citadel.

It worked. Thank Ramuh.

(Watching the chaos from the sidelines, Penny did have to admit that Ardyn’s asshole mischief was hysterical.)

How that led to Ardyn deciding he liked her and taking him on as his personal tailor, Penny didn’t know. But since she was no longer on the receiving end of his personal brand of mischief, and could actually argue him into three layers and only one wacky pattern, Penny chalked it up to Shiva’s humor and focused on getting her personal royal to at least consent to color combinations that wouldn’t make every Galahdian cringe.

Ardyn deciding that he liked her weaving and then paying her to make him clothing from scratch... well, Penny would never admit it, but that plus the fact that he had her help plan out various outfits for maximum Statement (whatever said statement was) is what finally made her decide that while an asshole, Ardyn was her asshole.

She still put green in all his outfits though. That man needed a warning label.

[hanniiesuckle17]

The Modern Wife

HAN JISUNG REGENCY AU

A/n: Literally I’ve been so obsessed with the idea of this I had to mess up my schedule and write this. Also, omg will you look at that edit job??? I have never used photoshop in my life and look at that!!! Also special shoutout to Celi @poeticallyspaghetti​ for helping me so much with this

See how many Austen quotes you can spot!

Warnings: Slight cursing, mention of violence

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: Miss Y/n L/n is the talk of the town. She is one of four gorgeous sisters. Her father is a successful politician who travels frequently back and forth to London. She is beautiful, poised, and absolutely unobtainable. Every man in town had been asking for her hand, all except a certain Colonel. Things are turned upside down when Miss L/n is forced into an engagement.

Genre: history!au, enemies to lovers!au, regency!au, historical!au, pride, and prejudice!au

“OW! Not so tight, Harry!” I screamed holding onto my bedposts as my maid and friend, Harriet pulled the laces tight on my corset. “Harry, are you trying to kill me?” I said with a laugh. The small thin plank of wood in the boning pressed hard against my chest and pushed up my breasts as high as they would go for no reason other than to put them on display. 

Ironic that it was unseemly to show my ankle but my cleavage could parade about the world openly. For the next forty minutes, Harriet proceeded to help me get dressed. The pale yellow frock complimented my skin nicely. Harriet always knew what I looked best in. She sat me down at my vanity while she fixed my hair, untwisted the fabric that tied my curls. Before she could finish my eyes glimpsed movement outside my window. 

“Cecilia!”

Bolting up from the chair I ran down the hall, fabric billowing behind me. I rushed passed several servants as I made my way down the sunlit passageway. “Miss Y/n,” our butler, Mr. Carson, exclaimed as I nearly ran him over. Thankfully he did not drop the glassware on his tray. “I’m sorry, Carson!” “Don’t worry about it, my lady.”

With a bright smile, I burst through the large entryway doors and was met by a gracious morning breeze, A carriage had pulled up in the driveway and a woman a few years older than me was exiting the cab with the help of a footman.

“Cecilia! You’re home!” 

“Y/n!”

Wrapping my arms around my elder sister I gave her the biggest hug imaginable. The sound of our laughter could most likely be heard from anywhere on the grounds. I was once again reunited with my sister. She had not been gone but a few months since her last visit, but it felt like ages to me. 

“I should hope I get the same welcoming as my wife,” Turning away, I saw my sister’s husband stepping out of the carriage, a kind smile on his face. “Of course, Chan. I could never forget my brother in law.” He gently gave me a hug before returning me back to my sister. 

“Is father home?” I shook my head, leading my sister arm in arm into the house. “No, he has yet to return from London.” She scoffed and held my hand tighter. “But, it is the beginning of spring! How can he miss your birthday?” Carson greeted Cecilia and Chan with a warm welcome before we continued to the parlor. 

“Do not worry. Papa said he would return in the next few days in time for the ball on Saturday. Tomorrow we girls will simply have to celebrate my nineteenth birthday together.” Chan left us to talk while he helped tried to help Carson and the footmen with the bags, much to Carson’s displeasure. Chan never could really get used to having servants do things for him.

“Where are Charlotte and Emma?” Cecilia was referring to our two younger sisters. Charlotte had turned sixteen this year and little Emma was now ten. “They are in lessons right now. Papa is still positively adamant we are all educated to the highest degree.”  “Of course, he is.”

My sister filled me in on everything that had happened in Dover in the past few months. She and Chan had moved there after they got married, much against father’s will. “Oh, Chan got a letter before we left. He said the Colonel was in London and met up with father. He might come back to Surrey for the spring.” 

Cecilia laughed as disdain took over my face. “Wonderful. There go my hopes of a lovely spring.” “He isn’t that bad, Y/n.” The Colonel was around Cecilia’s age, in his very early twenties. He was the one who introduced Chan to Cecilia. Chan had served in his infantry and had grown quite close to the young officer. 

Father adored the Colonel. Anytime the Colonel returned to Surrey, Papa would insist on us inviting him to our residence. Everyone loved the Colonel. He was a brave man who had done his country proud in the war, taking over his father’s position in the midst of battle after he tragically perished. There was just something about him that made me hate him. He walked around like he was entitled to everything around him. 

“Does that mean he’ll be returning with father?” Cecilia nodded as her husband entered the room. “Who?” Chan asked sitting across from us. “Colonel Han,” Chan nodded with a soft smile on his face, adjusting his jacket. “I assume so. Miss Y/n why are you asking about him? If my memory serves me correctly, the last time he was here you called him ‘Death’s head on a broomstick’,” 

“Well, it was rightly deserved. I’m simply asking because I would like to know when to board up Whitewater so that he simply can’t get in.” 

Cecilia’s bright blue eyes crinkled as she laughed. Running footsteps could be heard coming down the hall. In raced two girls who practically jumped on Cecilia. “Cecilia, we missed you!” Emma sang in her soft voice. Charlotte went and gave Chan a gentle hug as well. 

The next day we celebrated my birthday. Chan and Cecilia got me a lovely gift, a gorgeous leather-bound sketchbook. I knew there was no way they could possibly afford something of such quality, but Cecilia insisted I take it. Carson and the staff celebrated with us making and sharing a beautiful cake. The next two days went by quickly. Chan worked on his music, the girls continued their studies, and Cecilia and I spent the time walking the grounds and gossiping about anything and everything, with Harriet often joining us

On Thursday afternoon, Charlotte and I were strolling near the banks of the creek, for which our estate was named. The clear water quickly rushed along making almost a soft song with the wind in the trees. Soon, we began to grow tired so we headed back to Whitewater.

As we reached the estate, my eyes were drawn to a carriage and a horse stationed outside. No one was expecting visitors so it must mean father was home. Charlotte and I raced into the house, grins filling our faces. 

“Papa! Are you home?” I called out. Charlotte heard voices in the parlor, so we both ventured into the sitting room. “There are the rest of my beautiful daughters!” He exclaimed, getting up and wrapping his arms around us. It felt so good to have my father’s arms wrapped around me again. His familiar smell of burning wood and lavender. 

He pulled away and kissed each of our cheeks. “Girls, you remember Colonel Han Jisung.” I tried to hide the grimace on my face but failed. Of course. That’s whose horse was out front. My eyes fell on the man standing near the window. He wore a dark navy overcoat and pristine black boots. While his somewhat smaller and shorter than some of the other military men I had met in the past, there was no doubt about the way he commanded the room.  His shaggy brown hair was tousled from the ride back to Surrey. 

His dark eyes were hidden as he bowed and took Charlotte’s hand. A proper way to greet a lady. “Yes, unfortunately, I do remember,” I said rolling my eyes. “Believe me, feelings are the same Miss L/n.” The Colonel said giving me a curt bow. Rolling my eyes, I sat down next to Cecilia, who nudged me, giving me a look. 

“Papa, how was London?” Charlotte asked happily. Father smiled and sat back down near the fireplace. Mr. Han remained standing near where Chan was sitting. “Perfectly fine. Everything is well. It seems Napoleon’s advances in England have stopped for the time being. Also, I met quite an intriguing man and invited him to have dinner with us this evening.” 

“Is he handsome, Father?” Charlotte asked. “Charlotte, do not ask such things.” Cecilia scolded, gently pushing our sister back in her seat. “I should think so. Colonel, you are welcome to join us for supper as well.” 

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You do most days anyway,” I muttered under my breath.

Ignoring the look he sent my way I turned back to father. “Nonsense! You shall join us!” The hour seemed to drag on. Father and Mr.Han seemed to only talk about the war. Papa only paused to ask Cecilia and Chan about Dover and Chan’s music. To be fair he only asked because Cecilia forced him to be civil with Chan about his work.

Soon, The Colonel decided he should return to his estate and unpack his things. “Thank you for your time. The visit was lovely.” He said graciously. Giving everyone a short goodbye, he mounted his horse and made the travel to Ruxfield Manor a few miles to the west of Whitewater.

“That was an eventful visit,” Cecilia said wrapping her arm in mine.

“It was a delightful visit-perfect in being much too short.” 

She laughed at my comment as the two of us climbed the stairs to get ready for dinner in a few hours. Harriet helped me change for dinner and pinned up my hair leaving a few twisting strands loose framing my face. “Carson told me your father and his guests are already in the sitting room,” I sighed picking up a handheld mirror as she clasped a necklace around my neck.

“Well, then we should join them.” I stood up, smoothing the dark green fabric of the dress Harriet had picked out. As I exited my bedroom, the door next to me opened as well to reveal my sister and her husband dressed for dinner. As we approached the parlor, Carson opened the door and announced us.

“Miss Y/n and Mr. and Mrs. Bang.”

All heads turned towards us as we entered the room. Two men stood up at the announcement. One was the Colonel, purely out of respect for the women of the household. His eyes never even moved to the door. The other man wore a dark almost velvet-like coat and he carried himself with high prestige. 

He had deep brown eyes and sharp features. “My darling girls,” Father exclaimed before setting down his glass of sherry. He came and kissed both of our cheeks. “Father,” I said, latching onto his arm. He led us over to the men and our sisters. 

“Mr. Han,” I said trying not to roll my eyes. He gave me a curt nod and then returned to his seat. “Y/n play nice,” Papa said jokingly. “I am, Papa!” 

“Miss Y/n,” The other man said bowing before me. I couldn’t help but give him a questioning look as he took my hand and placed a soft and chaste kiss on my skin. “Oh, and to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Angel, this is Mr. Lee. He is a barrister in London. Minho, this is my second eldest daughter.” Mr. Lee stood up straight and looked me over with a gentle, but mischievous smile. “The pleasure is all mine. Your father has told me so much about you.” 

“Oh has he now! All good things I hope!”

“You can you tell the difference?” The Colonel mumbled, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Oh please, you are hardly agreeable yourself.”

“I do not wish people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of being forced into casual pleasantries.”

Thankfully, Carson entered the room, saving the Colonel and myself from getting into yet another altercation. “Dinner is ready to be served in the dining room.” Mr. Han scoffed when Minho bowed once again and offered me his arm. The eight of us ventured into the dining room where our new light bulbs brightened up the space from the ceiling. Father was obsessed with every new invention.

Papa took his place at the head of the table, the girls on either side of him. Cecilia sat across from her husband and the Colonel was seated next to her and across from me. Mr. Lee was seated at the other end of the table.  

Polite conversation was heard throughout dinner. The girls discussed their studies with father, who then bragged about our education to Mr. Lee. Dinner was lovely as always. Mr. Lee was beyond courteous and thanked Carson and the staff for the meal. We engaged in polite conversation. Mr. Lee seemed to pride himself in small talk because the conversation never got any bigger. “You know green is my favorite color. It is almost as if you wore that dress to see me smile.”

To be frank he was quite boring. He seemed no different than the other men I had met except for the fact he seemed fascinated by the cats on his estate. Cecilia sent me a pitiful glance and I did my best to hide my expression from Father. 

“Doori is just so mischievous. And Soongi! You would love Soongi!” Cecilia stifled a laugh as I downed the rest of the wine in my glass. I was too preoccupied forcing the alcohol down my throat that I didn’t notice Mr. Han’s soft laughter at my struggle with Mr. Lee. 

“Since we are all here and getting along so well, I would like to say something,” Father announced to the room. Carson ushered the footmen out of the room and back to the kitchen before turning back to Father at full attention. Every eye at the table was on Papa.

“After much discussion and thought, I have decided that it is time for Y/n to be married.” 

All eyes turned to me. I froze and looked around the table. Excuse me? When did my father talk to me about this? He was just marrying me off to some random noble?

“Mr. Lee and I have agreed. We would like to announce an engagement by the end of the summer.” 

This time all eyes turned to Mr. Lee at the other end of the table. “What?” Cecilia says breaking the silence that had lasted for much too long. I could do nothing but stare at the table. There were too many emotions flying around and none of them were particularly good let alone ladylike. Everyone, even the Colonel looked between my father and Mr. Lee with widened eyes. Chan watched his wife struggling to comprehend my fate. The girls stared at me looking for an answer. I felt the Colonel’s stare like a weight, when I looked up he was looking anywhere except my face. He let out a hefty sigh with an emotionless expression as he soon became fascinated with the chandelier.

“Did you think to ask me how I felt?” Papa looked at me, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I didn’t think you would much care,” All of my sisters seemed shocked at his words. Father had always been so set on us making our own decisions. He always wanted us to be happy, especially after our mother had passed.

“Just because Cecilia decided she did not want to marry a noble doesn’t mean you can pass this onto me!” Cecilia looked down at her plate. It was no secret that Papa was outraged at her marriage to Chan. “This has nothing to do with your sister.” 

“You are sending me away! Why not just make this punishment even worse? Send me off with the Colonel, make my life completely miserable!”

“Y/n L/n!” Father yelled standing up. 

“Father you are at fault here too,” Cecilia said standing up. She rushed over and led me out of the room and up the stairs. When Harriet saw us down the hall she rushed to us and opened the door to my bedroom. “Did you hear, Harry?” You looked at the girl who sadly nodded. Of course, she had heard. People in France had heard the argument between me and Papa. Cecilia helped Harriet calm me down and change before placing a kiss on my forehead and leaving to confer with her husband. Slowly I slipped into a deep sleep hoping to forget the events of this night.

The next afternoon my sister and I strolled through the lanes of Surrey on our way to the dress shop. Cecilia had convinced me to come out and get a new dress for the ball tomorrow night with her. Despite my protests, she and Harriet dragged me out of bed and helped slip by my father’s study and into town. 

I had to admit, I was thankful to be away from Whitewater. Walking into the dress shop with my sister on my arm felt freeing. Like I wasn’t about to be engaged to a man I had absolutely no interest in. 

Breathing in the smell of the wood and the fabrics put a smile on my face. Cecilia ran over to the rolls of blue fabric. I had missed coming to the seamstress with my older sister. In Dover Chan and Cecilia didn’t have enough money to get a new dress more than once or twice a year, so Cecilia was thrilled to come with me. 

“What color do you think you would like?” Cecilia shouted from over her shoulder, pulling out a dress with baby blue fabric and white lace. I shrugged and sorted through the different dresses. “I will wear anything but green. Minho would not stop talking about how I wore his favorite color at dinner.” Cecilia laughed as I brushed passed a light green ensemble without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we send you in black since it is going to be your funeral anyway,” Cecilia said throwing a black frock at me. I laughed and returned the dress to the seamstress. “Y/n, what about this?” She handed me a gorgeous red dress that was embroidered with pearls and gold thread. 

“I have not worn red since we were little girls. It’s absolutely gorgeous!” The seamstress helped us try on the dresses before we paid for them and changed back. Cecilia laughed as I recounted the conversation with Mr. Lee as we walked out of the shop. I felt uneasy. Like something was off. Looking around I saw several young men from the town walking about and standing near shops but they all seemed to be looking anywhere but me, which was very abnormal. 

“Do you think they heard about the engagement? It isn’t even official yet!” Cecilia said, reading my mind. An exasperated sigh left my chest. “Nor will it be. I will marry Lee Minho over my dead body.” 

“Oh, Miss Y/n!” a voice called out from across the street. 

Looking for the source of the deep voice I found Lee Felix, Colonel Han’s aide. And of course, next to him, was Colonel Han Jisung himself. My sister laughed as the Colonel and I both grimaced. Despite the second protests of the day, Cecilia dragged me over to greet the two soldiers. 

Han and Felix gave the two of us military level bows and Felix greeted us happily. “I see you two ladies are enjoying today’s fine weather.” Mr. Han said looking around at the scenery, his hands behind his back and his posture incredibly straight. “Yes, Y/n and I were out shopping for an ensemble for the ball tomorrow.” 

Felix’s grin grew three times larger. “I see that!” He said pointing to the folded dresses in our arms. “Oh Colonel, Miss Y/n picked out a red dress! What a coincidence!” Han spared me and the dress in my arms a glance before scoffing and looking at Felix. “What is a coincidence? Do tell,” I said, a smirk falling on my lips. “Jisung was just saying how gorgeous the red roses were at Ruxfield.” 

“Ow-” Cecilia nudged my stomach with an innocent grin on her sweet oval face. “Y/n just adores roses! She was sketching them in the garden, just the other day.” Cecilia’s blue eyes sparkled as she nudged me once again. What was she getting at? They were just flowers. 

The Colonel looked up at my words, his eyes slightly widening. He quickly recovered and trained his eyes on the ground. “Well, Felix and I have much to attend to. I am sure we shall meet again tomorrow night.” I rolled my eyes as Han mounted his horse, Felix following close behind. 

“Come, we must prepare for tomorrow night, given this new information!”

“Cecilia! What new information? Stop pulling on my arm!”

The carriage rumbled to a stop in front of the Hall. My father the girls and I were all in one cab, while Chan and Cecilia rode in a separate carriage. A footman opened the door and helped me down from the cab. He gently took each of my sisters’ hands as they exited as well. The music swelled as we entered the Hall with our father in front of us.

Emma quickly ran off to the table filled with sweets and hour devours, and Charlotte was towed away by her friends. “Miss L/n!” Turning, I saw Mr. Lee pushing his way through the crowd. Wonderful. The last person I wanted to see.  Like a leech, Mr. Lee latched himself onto my arm. “Are you quite good at dancing, Miss L/n? I fancy myself quite the dancer. They do all the latest court dances in London you see.”

“If you would excuse me, Mr. Lee, I am quite parched,” I said interrupting the never ending stream of words. “Yes, quite alright. I shall miss every second you are parted from me!” Minho said placing a kiss on my hand. Begrudgingly, I plastered a smile on my face and maneuvered my way through the crowd. 

Spotting my sister’s golden brown hair, I moved through the flood of people. Her beautiful baby blue dress stood out against the dark colored suits and dresses around her. She stood next to her husband and another man. “Cecilia, thank goodness.” I heaved out in a sigh. “My dear sister, you look ravishing! Don’t you think so, Mr. Han?” Turning I saw The Colonel dressed in fine navy blue. His eyes drunk me in with a disenchanted expression.

“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; I am in no humor at the present to give consequence to young ladies with such ‘modern’ attributes.” 

Only to uphold my social presence and reputation did I refrain from slapping him. How could he say something so ghastly right to my face. Before I could fire back Chan interrupted, questioning his friend. “Han, do you plan on joining in the festivities? I certainly plan on bringing my adoring Cecilia onto the dance floor tonight. There is absolutely nothing like dancing after all. It is one of the first refinements of a polished society.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and placing his hands behind his back in a seemingly military sense. 

“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance.” “Not every savage-” Cecilia ventured. “I assure you, Mrs. Bang. Every savage can. Even damn Napoleon, so no I do not think I shall partake in the such an adolescent event.” 

The urge to shove his head up his ass grew stronger within me by the second, but I don’t think anything would be able to move past the gargantuan log shoved up there already. “Well, my dearest, would you accompany me onto the dance floor.” Chan said with a bright smile, offering a hand to his wife. Her lace gloved hand slid into his with a smile. Just as they were leaving a voice called out over the sea of guests. 

“Miss L/n! Where are you my love? Miss Y/n?” My eyes widened as I saw Minho’s head bobbing through the crowd. “Ah! Miss Y/n! There you are!” He said pointing in my direction. 

“Oh lord help me. Quick!” Without thinking I grabbed the nearest coat sleeve and pulled the man out onto the dance floor, a new dance beginning. “What in all hell?” He exclaimed, eyes turning to saucers. 

A sigh of relief left my lips as Minho walked right passed my previous location, still looking for me. Music swelled and the couples around me started dancing so I joined in with my partner. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes fell on Mr. Han standing in front of me, gently holding my hand and bowing. I curtsied to him and focused on looking for Mr. Lee in the crowd. Hopefully he wasn’t too close. Absentmindedly I followed the steps of the dance, my palm pressing lightly against the Colonel’s as we moved through the steps and turns of the dance. 

Halfway through the song, my eyes followed Mr. Lee as he searched for me into another room. This time a sigh of relief escaped as my focus turned back to the dance. I then became very aware of Mr. Han’s hand on my waist. “Mr. Han, I didn’t realize you could dance.” I jested a smirk playing on my lips. His face remained the same but there was something about his eyes that was different. 

“Miss L/n, I said any savage can dance. I am not excluded.” 

I was left without a retort. I simply stared at him as he circled and came behind me, one hand on my waist, the other gently holding my outstretched hand. The feeling of his chest against my shoulder  was unfamiliar but somehow inviting. He smelled like gun powder and old books. My eyes couldn’t seem to break away from his as we turned and moved with the music. 

The entire world seemed to dissolve away and all I could see was how he was looking at me. How he was holding me gently and cautiously, as if I was a butterfly in his palm. He had a softness in his eyes I had never seen before. The kind that showed a tortured past. Had he always been this handsome? 

Somehow I had never noticed the smooth lines of his face. The soft curve of his lips. The sharp angle of his jaw and the color of his warm tan skin from being in the sun on the battlefield. I had been completely oblivious. I was too stubborn to see the honorable man in front of me. I was even unkind to him on so many occasions yet he looked at me with such a hidden admiration. 

Our movements came to a stop and the Colonel stayed by my side, my hand still resting gently over his. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his stare. 

“Miss Y/n,” A voice called. Everyone was looking at me. Looking at us. Confusion and suggestion plastered on their faces. Suddenly the Colonel’s hands removed themselves he moved a good distance away from me. 

“Next time you would like to hide from your fiancee, use someone else as a shield. I would much rather not be involved in the manner.”

With a sharp, curt bow the Colonel excused himself and rushed off, disappearing into the bustling and whispering crowd. The gossip seemed to stop when Emma ran up to me, her big bright eyes sparkling. Leaving the moment between myself and Mr. Han behind, I danced with my sisters the rest of the night and did my best to fend off my soon to be fiancee. 

Hours later the evening drew to a close. Emma was already asleep and had returned to Whitewater with father a few hours earlier in our carriage. Charlotte and I walked out of the Hall our arms linked and laughing about Lady Moss’s hair piece. “Can you believe it?” Lottie laughed out of breath.

A yell from the street pulled our attention. “Your master stepped over the line!” A huge crowd had surrounded two very young men near the road. A fight had broke out between two footmen. I winced seeing a blow land on the smaller one’s face and another to his cut. My eyes widened when I caught a glimpse of his face. It was Felix. Colonel Han’s aide. 

“Lottie, go find Chan and Cecilia.” Nodding, she ran back into the hall to find our sister. I pushed my way through the crowd trying to see what was going on. Felix was doing his best to hold his ground against the other boy. It looked like Minho’s steward, Seungmin. “I have no control over what the Colonel does. You’re crazy!” Felix said blocking another swing. 

“Hey! Break it up! Stop this juvenile combat!” A voice boomed. Han himself pushed through the crowd and plowed through Seungmin, a hand clutching the collar of the boys shirt. “You do not touch him. If your quarrel is with me then face me so. Do not be a coward and go after my aide.” There was a fire in his eyes and Seungmin looked terrified. The power Han exuded would frighten any man. 

Seungmin, regaining his composure, threw a punch at the Colonel, landing on his jaw. While he seemed mostly unaffected, Seungmin took the opportunity to wriggle out of Jisung’s tight grasp. Han scoffed, and threw of his coat, rolling up his sleeves as well. ���You will certainly regret doing that.” The crowd cheered as Han took a strike. His slim form allowed him to move with agility and strike with force. It was clear that Seungmin was done for. 

Another person burst through the crowd as Han threw Seungmin off of him. Minho caught his steward, pulling him up by the arm. He took Seungmin’s cheek in his hand and examined the boy’s beaten face, before handing him off to another footman. His glare then targeted the Colonel who stood out of breath and dark brown hair tousled. 

“How dare you assault my boy?” Minho screamed, pointing a finger at Mr. Han. “Do not jump to assumptions, my friend. Your boy att-” “First you try to seduce my fiancee in front of the entire town- then you assault my aide!” Han let out a breathy laugh before pointing at himself. “Me? You think I would ever be interested in the a woman such as Miss L/n?” His finger moved to point at me, but my glare in his direction was ignored. 

“Your man attacked mine first! It is you who needs to apologize! I will not have my staff humiliated and beaten by scum like you or your servants.” Han said beginning to get an almost erratic look in his eyes. “That’s it,” Minho said throwing his coat onto the ground. Without hesitation he leaped into the fight. The crowd cheered them on as I watched in horror.

“Stop! Stop this right now!” I screamed, but no one listened. Mr. Lee’s fist connected with Han’s temple, making his eyes go dark for a moment, before returning. Mr. Lee took the opportunity to throw Han over his shoulder and onto the ground before my feet. 

“Mr. Lee, stop right this instant! Both of you! There is no use fighting over me! this is complete nonsense.” Mr. Han’s eyes rolled over to me as he sat up. He winced as he moved to stand up. It took all of my power not to break his stare. 

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn about you.”

Why did his words wound me? The hurt must have shown on my face for a brief moment because once again his eyes softened. Before he could say something Mr. Lee took a cheap shot, his fist flying across Han’s cheek. My eyes did not fail to miss the drops of blood that landed on the dirt. Han wasted no time in fighting back. 

“ENOUGH!” I screamed. Reputation be damned. I was finished. I had enough. Storming up, with all my strength I pushed the men apart. The two seemed insistent on continuing the brawl. The only thing stopping the Colonel from destroying Mr. Lee was my hands pushing against his shoulders. “You know nothing about me!” My loathsome future fiancee shouted.

“You are only trying to buy her from her father; like she is some prize!” Han sneered. “She is not some timepiece or your stupid pet!” Hearing a yell from Mr. Lee I turned to stop him only to feel a strike against my head. My vision started to blur and my head started to spin before I felt myself fall to the ground. 

Every person froze. Mr. Lee and the Colonel watched in horror as I collapsed to the ground barely conscious. Not a second later Chan burst through the crowd with Cecilia in tow, breaking up the fight. She gasped seeing my body on the ground. Quickly she rushed to my side and cradled my head in her lap. 

“Quick! Someone help!” Felix, still recovering from his beating, rushed over without hesitating. With some struggle, he got my partially limp body in his arms as Cecilia led him to where our carriage should have been. Han seemed to snap out of his shock, and he rushed to Felix’s side. “Mr. L/n took their carriage. Felix, we’ll go in ours.” Nodding, Felix turned and rushed to the Colonel’s cab and gently placed me on the seat. Cecilia placed my head in her lap as Han jumped into the cab with us, worry painted all over his face. 

Felix jumped up into the coach’s seat. Han pounded on the carriage wall and screamed for Felix to go. “Felix, hurry! To Whitewater. Take the back road it’s  faster!”  Han prayed that they could return to my estate fast enough to call a doctor. When the carriage pulled to a stop, the Colonel took me from Cecilia’s lap and held me in his arms, letting my head roll onto his chest. 

“Into the house! Carson! Carson, call the physician!”

Mr. Han carried me up the steps of the porch and impatiently yelled at Felix to hold the door. The poor boy rushed up and let Han carry me through the doorway. Han cautiously handed my semi-conscious body over to Carson. His brow furrowed, concern flooding his features as he watched my loving staff rush to my aid. Carson placed me gently on a sofa  and Cecilia carefully undid the tight curls in my hair so my head had somewhat less pain. 

 Han could do nothing but stand off to the side watching in distress. “Miss Bang...please let me offer my assistance-”

“You have done enough,”

Cecilia did not mean her words to come out as harsh as they did. He knew that. He scolded himself at his thoughts. ‘If only Y/n had not gotten in the way.’ ‘Lee Minho will pay for what he has done.’ A touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Turning he saw Felix, a frown on his face. “Sir, we should return to Ruxfield. I will be sure to inquire of Miss L/n’s health in the morning.” Almost as if he was giving him no choice, Felix guided the Colonel back to his carriage and the two departed. 

The next morning I awoke to find both Cecilia and Harriet sleeping beside me. Harriet even in her sleep was still holding cloth wrapped ice to my forehead. Sensing my movement, Harriet woke up and asked millions of questions about how I was feeling. 

Cecilia then woke up not long after. She recounted what happened  after the fight and then left to let me change for the day. The next week went by with no word from the Colonel. Felix came by the first morning to give his apologies at the Colonel’s request. Sadly, Mr. Lee visited almost daily. I had taken to sketching in the book gifted to me by my sister, hoping this would come as a distraction from remembering certain interactions from that night. 

The afternoon was perfect. A light rain had come in the morning, leaving droplets on the the flowers in the garden. Now the sun was out and shining, as I sat on a bench outside with my sketchbook amongst the flowers. “My lady you have a visitor.” Carson said from the stone walkway. The garden had somewhat of a keyhole stone path, with a fountain and stone circle at the center. Mr.Carson stood near the fountain. Through the water you could see the outline of a man’s over coat. “If it is Mr. Lee send him away. I am in no mood to entertain him today.”

“Mr. Lee is not the one asking for visitation,” A smooth deep voice spoke as its owner moved from behind the fountain. 

Colonel Han stood a little in front of Carson, looking at you with a serious expression. The same he wore every day of his entire life, except it his eyes. His eyes once again held that softness, as if it was a sight only you could bring out of him. “I’d have to jump off a bridge if I was that cat loving bigot.”  A hint of a smile slid onto his lips. 

He was correct. Mr. Han was nothing like Mr. Lee. Han was rough. He had edges. He never primped himself like Mr.Lee did. I couldn’t help but drink him in. His dark hair was shaggy and he only wore a simple shirt and the old navy overcoat he seemingly never took off. His boots were dirty and scuffed, but well taken care of. A sign of his daring acts but military discipline. A blush came over my cheeks as I remembered the feeling of dancing with him, his chest against my back.

“Jis- Colonel... to what do I owe the pleasure.” I closed my sketchbook and placed it beside me on the stone bench. “Papa is in London, but he should return by nightfall.” In all of my life I had never been nervous in front of a man other than my father. I believed a woman should be a strong and elegant vision, not simply standing behind a man but beside him if at all. So why could I not meet Mr. Han’s eyes. 

“I’m not here to see your father. I’m here to see you.”

My eyes widened at his words. Nothing was different about him. He still stood straight with his arms behind his back, keeping a respectable distance form me. His face remained stoic as if he was reading from a war plan. “Thank you, Carson. You may leave us,” 

It was Han’s turn to be flustered upon hearing my words. Being the respectful man he was he always adhered to the social protocol of a woman and man never being alone unless with a chaperone. Carson raised his brow in question, but complied, entering the house.

A moment of awkward silence followed. Then another. And another. It was almost like Mr. Han had lost the ability to function after being alone with me. Nervously, I played with the fabric of my dress. What could he possibly want to discuss with me. We have hardly had a pleasant conversation in our entire lives. “Miss Ln-” His words halted when I looked up at him. His eyes went immediately to my face. I knew exactly what he was looking at. The bruise from that night. It was lighter now, having had a week to heal, but still visible.

“Oh Y/n...” He reached out as if to touch my face, but thought better of it and pulled back. There was no longer a wide expanse between us. He now stood only a few feet away from where I sat.  “We are not even wed, and yet I have already forsaken you and broken a valiant code...” He muttered under an aggravated sigh.

He was grateful that I didn’t hear it. “If you are indeed here for me, please enlighten me of your purpose for I am in the dark.” I said pushing a strand of loose hair around my face. As he opened his mouth to speak a deep voice called his name. 

“Colonel Han!”

Felix came running out of Whitewater. He was out of breath and his hair and clothes were out of place, like he had just gotten off his horse. He handed on a sealed envelope and whispered something in Mr. Han’s ear.  Immediately, Han opened the letter with his long nimble fingers. His eyes quickly scanned the letter, leaving me in anxious silence. 

“What is it?” I asked on the edge of my seat. Han handed the letter back to Felix and whispered something back to him. Felix spared me a glance before leaving us alone. 

The Colonel raked a hand through his already slightly disheveled hair and turned his back to me. Something was compelling me to reach out to him. “Jisung,” He turned at the sound of his name. My mind had yet to register the fact this was the first time I had actually said his name. He on the other hand, did notice.

“What is the matter?” He sighed and looked back at the house. Felix was standing by the door, discussing something with Carson. “Napoleon has resumed his advances on the border.” It took me a moment for me to process the information. This was news that was not for me to hear. “Why-”

“They are calling me to the front line.”

I couldn’t speak.

“Felix gave me my orders just now. I leave in the morning.”

This meant so many things. This meant our country was once again at war with France. It meant Father would have to stay in London. It meant Mr. Han would be sent to the heat of the battle commanding easily a thousand men in combat. It meant Jisung...was being sent into battle that he might not come back from.

Why did I even care? I was in line to be engaged. Granted it was to a spinless snob I practically loathed. “I may be a bitter married woman when you returned. Then our arguments will be that much more interesting.” Another look flashed across his face. Almost like he was disappointed that was what I had chosen to say. Like he had wished I had asked him to stay.

“Let’s hope for the both of us that is not true when I return.”

Before I could understand his words Felix returned, this time with Carson behind him. He came to Mr. Han’s side and urgently whispered something in his ear. Han nodded and brushed him off before turning back to me, his eyes growing soft. Gently, he took my hand. All I could do was watch as he brought it up to his lips and softly kissed my knuckles. 

It was an action I had experienced many times from many men. All seeking for my hand in marriage. But this. This was different. This felt intimate. Like the kiss was burning itself into my skin as if to mark me for life. His eyes joined mine as he pulled away. 

“Colonel, we have to go.” Felix said breaking the silence. Han slid his hand from mine and he turned to follow Felix back to Ruxfield to prepare for is departure. My body could do nothing but watch him leave.

“You’re all grown up now, Miss Y/n.” Carson said. He had the kindest smile on his face as he came to sit on the bench, pulling me down with him. “What do you mean, Carson?” He sighed, taking my hand in his. Carson was nothing like my father. He and my mother were very close and Mr. Carson always seemed like a real father figure in my life. He was the one who taught me to dance, and what books I should read, and even how to play poker. 

“You are falling in love. I would know that look anywhere.” Love? With the Colonel. Impossible. I despised him. Right? “I am not in love. If I was in love I would be getting married.” He chuckled and patted my hand. “Aren’t you though?”

“Carson, do you see me voluntarily marrying that mess of a man?”

“Are you speaking of Lord Lee or Colonel Han?”

Blinking, the thought crossed my mind. Of course I was talking about Mr. Lee right. I was set to marry him. Was Carson saying I should marry Mr. Han? Marrying Colonel Han Jisung. The thought had never crossed my mind. Now that it did, why did my heart swell.

“Of course I’m speaking of Mr. Lee. Father would forbid anyone else.” Carson nodded, looking over the garden. “So, are you saying there is someone else?” He took my silence as an answer, smiling. 

“An unhappy alternative is before you, Y/n. From this day you must be a stranger to one of us. Your father will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Lee, and I would never see you again if you do.” 

A warm, fatherly smile filled his eyes. “Do you love him?” There was no question of who he was talking about. “While I have lost my heart, I shall not lose my self control. I will not become one of those silly girls running around with their heads in the clouds controlled by love.” Carson laughed and picked a flower near the bench.

“Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.” 

Before I could respond I was interrupted by what seemed like the fourth time today. “Y/’n! Y/n!” Cecilia ran out of the house a grin from ear to ear. Emma and Charlotte followed hot on her heels. Her light blue dress blew behind her as she ran over to us. “Y/n, I’m pregnant!” After blinking a few times I wrapped her up in a hug and cheered. Carson joined us and we all went inside to celebrate Cecilia’s news, leaving the conclusion of my conversation with Carson in the back of my mind.

Spring came and went. Soon came the long months of summer and with it came heavy summer storms. The Whitewater creek was filled to capacity and quite dangerous. Father had come home from London and the tensions had been high ever since he returned. Papa seemed hell bent on my marriage to Mr. Lee. 

Every chance he got he brought up the engagement. I was starting to think Carson may have been right. Every mention of Mr.Lee drove me further away from him and made me wonder about another man...far away. 

Another man who didn’t write. Not once. I found myself jumping to the door when Carson delivered our mail to our rooms. Weeks passed and still I heard no word from him. Weeks turned into months until it became the middle of summer. Still no word from the Colonel. Not even to my father about the war. I was beginning to worry something had happened. Certainly he wouldn’t forget about me after a goodbye like that? Why did I even care? I hated the man. Yes, I hated the man. I had all the right to hate him if he wasn’t going to send me even one letter. 

Another summer storm raged outside my window. “Miss you will have to leave your room sometime.” Harriet said, hanging up some of my laundry. “If Cecilia will not leave her room then I too shall not.” Harriet laughed as I watched the water pelt against the glass. “Miss Y/n, your sister is ordered by the doctor to bed rest. Chan is taking care of her. You are simply sulking over your engagement.” 

“I am not sulking over my engagement.”

“Then a certain Colonel perhaps? Maybe the lack of a letter?” 

Before I could correct my friend, Carson knocked on the door and entered. “My lady, your father wishes to speak to you in his study.” I sighed, turning back to the window. “Carson, I am in no mood to speak to Papa.” Harsh winds blew the trees in the forest just outside the estate. “My lady, he is leaving for London in an hour. He is insistent on speaking to you.”

Carson gave me a small smile. He was probably right. It was better to simply speak to him before he left than ignore him until he returned home. With a sigh, I got up from my window seat. Harriet straightened my dress and adjusted the loose but proper style she had done to my hair this morning. I knew exactly what awaited me behind the heavy wooden doors. My knuckles softly wrapped against the oak. 

“Enter,” 

The gruff voice of my father echoed as I opened the door. He sat at his desk writing a letter or some other important document. “Papa, you wanted to talk to me?” I said standing near one of the many bookshelves in his study. “Yes, about your marriage.” 

“Papa. I already told you I will not marry Mr. Lee-”

“The date has been set. You will marry Lee Minho in one month’s time.”

My jaw dropped in disbelief. “Father!” He didn’t even look up from his work. “Do not ‘Father’ me. You knew this was going to happen. You will marry Mr. Lee. You will do as your told. It is your duty as a woman of this household.” What? My what?

“My duty as woman?” 

“Yes.”

“Father, I have no duty as woman. Especially to you. I will not marry a man who I do not love. It is not my duty to obey your every command!” This was when he chose to look at me. His eyes turned cold. “Y/n L/n. You are my daughter. You will do as I say!” Rage filled every inch of my body. “No! I will control my own life! I will not marry him and that is final! Times are changing. It is time you changed with them, Father!” The sound of his chair screeching against the wood floor made me flinch. “We are a family of tradition! I will not let your silly misguided modern values change our family!”

His voice boomed loud enough for the entire estate to hear. “What would mother think of this! She would never-” “DO NOT BRING YOUR MOTHER INTO THIS!” A book  flew across the room. Never the less I stood  my ground, staring straight back at him even though tears threatened to spill over my eyes. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you would just be-” 

“If you are going to continue this kind of behavior then I want you out of Whitewater until you come to your senses!” 

A silence followed; the kind that hurt. The kind you could feel- like needles plunging into your skin. Rain continued to fall on the roof and windows like bullets. 

“So be it.” 

With word I stormed out of the study and towards the door. Shouts from the staff could be heard behind me as I burst through the doors and out into the rain. “My lady! Y/n!” Carson called. My feet carried me to the stables. Grabbing a saddle and mounting the closest horse I rode out into the storm.

Finally able to let tears flow away from any eyes, I screamed. Never had I felt so much agony. My own father was shunning me. The man I admired had abandoned me and was sent to war. The man I despised was forcing me into marriage. My skin burned as harsh rain pelted against it. The wind blew through my hair pulling it loose.

Even through all this pain it felt...freeing. It felt amazing to run through the forest outside of Whitewater, thunder rolling in the air and rain showering down. My heart still wretched in pain. I missed my family, despite our arguments. Most of all I missed Mr. Han, despite our many many differences.

A loud crack boomed through the sky and a flash of white burst in front of my horse. I screamed as the horse  reared, throwing me off its back onto the forest floor. I felt a pain against the back of my head upon impact. The horse sprinted away in fear leaving me stranded. 

“Help!” I screamed into the dark. My legs struggled to hold themselves up and my vision started to become blurry. It became indecipherable what was rain or tears on my cheeks.

The world started to spin as I walked forward. I must have been ‘walking’ for hours. The cold had started to set in and the rain showed no sign of stopping. By now I was miles away from Whitewater and the closest estate was fifteen miles east.

“Help me...” 

My dress was getting heavier and heavier despite the fabric being so light before. It clung to my skin and my hair hung in dark wet strands in front of my face.  Over the thundering storm I thought I heard hoof beats through the forest. I must have been hallucinating. Not being able to hold myself up anymore, I leaned against a tree.

“Y/n?” 

Definitely hallucinating. I was even hearing his voice now. How did I remember what his voice sounded like? Exhaustion started to set in, the pain and cold making my eyes droop and my body feel even heavier. 

“Y/n? Y/n, where are you?” 

Through my blurry vision I thought I saw the outline of a horse and rider wearing a dark navy coat. “Y/n!” My strength was wearing thin. Taking a chance, that it wasn’t my imagination I pushed myself off the tree and stumbled forward. “Oh god! Y/n stay where you are I’m coming!”

Hooves pounded against the ground growing closer. My head started ti spin even more as the rider jumped off his horse and rushed to me. Before I could fall, I was taken in a pair of strong arms. The edges of my vision started to blackout, my hearing came in and out, and my body shivered trying to keep itself warm. The person clutched me to their chest and pushed the wet pieces of hair away from my face, desperation in their deep voice. “Miss L/n? Y/n, can you hear me? I’ve got you now. I’m here.”

My throat felt dry. “The Colonel...he-he didn’t write to me. I’m...I’m still waiting for his letter. I can’t leave...” The rider sighed and I tried to make out his face. “Do you know Colonel Han? He told me not to get married...so I didn’t...” The words came out in slurs but they came out nonetheless. The rider clutched my head to their chest gently. 

“I know, darling, I’m sorry.” He gently laid me on the forest floor and took off his coat wrapping it around me. “I couldn’t even though I wanted to.” Gently he picked me up as if I weighed nothing and moved over to the horse. Through my haze I heard him curse. Even in my state I knew there was no way he could get myself and him on the horse safely. 

“Stay with me, darling.” I tried to focus on the rider’s words as he tried to figure out how to get me to safety. The exhaustion won out, leaving me in the darkness. 

Colonel Han kept his head. He couldn’t panic. Not even when he saw her eyes close shut. “Damn.” His dark hair clung to his forehead as he searched for a solution. She wouldn’t last much longer. Her body was already freezing in his arms. 

His horse was too high to lift her up and Ruxfield was too far to walk. Why was she outside of Whitewater in the first place? In a storm? Whitewater. Whitewater was no more than five miles away. He could make it there. Forgetting about his exhaustion from the ride back from the front line, Jisung adjusted the woman in his arms, resting her head against his chest and his arms under her legs, he began walking all the way back to Whitewater. 

His arms and legs burned as he climbed over the last hill. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Whitewater in the distance through the rain. “We are almost there, darling. Hold on for me.” He just had to hold on long enough to reach Whitewater. To see Y/n was alright.

With his last burst of energy, Jisung burst through the front doors of Whitewater. “HELP! I need a physician! Someone help!” Several staff including Carson rushed up to him, seeing Y/n in his arms. “Quickly, upstairs!” he said, making a path for Jisung. She shivered in his arms as he carried her down the hall and up the stairs. 

“Harriet call the physician! Tell him it’s an emergency!” A girl he had scene with Y/n before nodded and rushed to call a doctor. “Y/n! Where is she! Y/n!” Cecilia called rushing to the Colonel. “Cecilia, love, move!” Chan said wrapping the woman in his arms. “Where is Father? He should be here!” She said as they moved passed her. “Your father left for London.” Carson said. 

Carson rushed to push open the door to the girl’s bedroom. The Colonel gently placed the girl on her bed and let the staff rush around the room to help her. All he could do was watch as the only woman he had thought about for the past four months lay helpless on her bed, shivering. 

A pair of strong hands pushed him softly out of the room and into the hall. He looked up to find Chan. “Han, you are freezing.” “I am fine,” He tried to get a look back into the room, but a maid closed the door. “You need to rest. You just returned on leave.” 

“Chan I will be fine!” 

Reluctantly, the man left Jisung alone in the hall. He watched as people walked in and out of the room, rushing with towels, blankets, wet clothes, new clothes, even hot kettles. Soon a physician arrived and entered her room. It felt like hours that Jisung had waited outside her door. Finally the girl, Harriet, walked out. She jumped when he grabbed her arm.

“Give me an occupation miss-or I shall go mad.”

Taking in the man’s tired state she handed him a towel. “The doctor says Ms. L/n hit her head and has a serious case of hypothermia.” She watched as Mr. Han sighed and ran a hand through his wet shaggy hair. “Please let me do something. Anything.” All she could offer was the smallest smile. 

“You’ve done all you can possibly do. Thank you for saving my mistress.” 

With a sorrowful nod he watched as she walked away. “We would be happy to set up a room for you, sir. We would be happy to keep you updated on how the lady is doing.” He gave Harriet a kind smile. “That would be very generous, Miss. I’ll only be staying for the two nights, if that is alright. I have orders to return to the line.” With a nod, Harriet went to prepare a room for the Colonel.

During those two days, Mr. Han never left her side. He stayed by her bedside helping Harriet and Cecilia with anything they asked. One the morning of his departure he gave Cecilia the name of his personal carrier. “If there is any change please let me know. The letter will go directly to me.” She nodded and took the piece of parchment watching the Colonel leave once again.

Sunlight streamed through my window. My head pounded and my body still felt cold.  Slowly I slipped out of my bed, feet placing themselves slowly on the cool wood floor. “You are awake!” Cecilia screamed. Rushing over she practically tackled me back onto my bed. “Cecilia, the baby!” “Oh I don’t care you are okay! Thank heavens you are okay!” 

I couldn’t help but smile as she hugged me. “Chan will kill you if you hurt his child before it’s even born.” “Shhhhhhhh! Not now. My sister has returned from the dead.” Laughing she hugged me even harder. 

“Oh! I almost forgot.” She pulled away and rushed to my dresser. When she returned she had a letter in her hands. “This came for you yesterday. You have been asleep for almost a week. You needed quite a lot of rest. I don’t blame you.” She handed me the envelope with a small smile. “Wait, where are you going?” I asked as she started to leave my room. “I think I should leave you alone with that.” Something about her smile made me laugh.

My shaking hands opened the letter with my name addressed on it in rough but elegant handwriting. When I opened it the familiar smell of gunpowder and old parchment reached my nose. The same handwriting greeted me as I read the letter.

“Miss Ln,

I have written this letter many times, but have been a coward to not send it. I had hoped I would be home to say this-but it seems Napoleon has different plans than I. 

Miss L/n, I would like to apologize from the bottom of my heart. There were a thousand times I wanted to write to you, but events on the front line prevented me. I would like to apologize for not getting to you sooner that day. I wish I had been there soon for you, my darling. 

I pray that by the time you get this letter you are not yet married to that insolent pitiful disgrace of a man. Though the timing may be off I have something to ask of you. Something to confess...

Miss L/n you have bewitched me- body and soul. To what time I fell so deeply under your spell, I cannot recall. I know not the hour or the spot or the words or even the look that lay the foundation. I was in the middle before I even began. What a proud fool I was. To think my stubbornness was the only thing keeping me from you.  In vain I have struggled, but it will not do. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and...love you.

It seems as if the only thing keeping me alive in this battle is the image of you smile. I would die a thousand deaths for that smile.

I have heard your father’s news of your wedding. I beg of you. Do not follow through. I hope that perhaps there is something I can offer. Miss L/n...should I return, I would like to humbly request for your hand. I know I have no right to you, nor should any man. You are the most strong woman I have ever had the pleasure and fortune of meeting, and to me it makes you the most beautiful woman to walk this earth. 

I hope to hear from you soon, my darling. Until then, I shall be fighting for the day that I do. I long for the day I am home. 

In hope,

Han Jisung”

I sat in disbelief. Colonel Han Jisung had written me a letter professing his love. He proposed... Leaving the letter on my  bed I walked to the window. The audacity. To ask me over a letter? A knock sounded at the door pausing my pacing. “Enter,” Harriet paused when she saw the look on my face. “Miss, what’s the matter.”

“Harry, I believe I have a serious decision to make.” 

 Months passed. Summer turning into mid fall. Father’s supposed wedding date for me had long passed. Each time Mr. Lee had visited Carson had turned him away. More letters from the Colonel had arrived, but they all said the same thing and soon they came to a stop. Cecilia had given birth not to long ago, to a beautiful baby boy. Chan and my sister had named the child Benjamin. 

News came that the war ended, England victorious. Soon I would be expecting a visitor. I sat in the garden with my sketchbook, drawing the few flowers that were left in the beds among other things. A certain face had popped up in the pages of my book several times. “Miss Y/n,” I looked up to see Carson walking down the pathway. 

“You have a visitor.”

A smirk fell across my lips. “Well, I believe I have been expecting him so let us not keep him waiting any longer.” With a smile, Carson returned into the house to fetch my guest. Patiently, I waited for the guest to come out and see me. I heard the sound of boots against the stone pathway and smiled.

“Good afternoon, Colonel.”

“Yes, indeed, Miss L/n.”

There was a nervous expression on his face. Once again he looked like he had just returned from active duty. His dark hair had grown a little longer and he wore the same navy overcoat again. His shirt underneath was covered in black powder and some of the buttons were undone to reveal his tan and slightly toned chest. Yes, definitely just returned. Returned with no time to change apparently. 

Quickly I brought my attention back to my sketchbook in hopes that it would hide the heat spreading on my cheeks. “Did...you receive my letters?” Self control regained, I turned my attention back to Mr. Han. “Why yes, Colonel Han, I did in fact receive several letters.”

“And you are not married...”

“No, I am not.”

The man stood perfectly still in military fashion, his hands clasped behind his back. “Well are you going to speak? You certainly did not come to Whitewater just to stare at me did you?” Shock crossed Han’s face. It was evident he had not expected me to speak to him like this. It was fun to see the stoic Colonel flustered. 

“I came to ask you response. You never wrote back to me.” I shrugged, getting off the bench. “Response? I don’t remember ever being properly asked a question.” He sighed running a hand through his hair, a habit that I had missed while he was away. “I do recall asking-” “No, Colonel Han. You requested. You, sir, never asked me anything. So why should I dignify you with a response.” 

Maybe it was the smile, or the slight twinkle in my eye, but he laughed. A sound that I had never heard from the man. It made me want to memorize every sound and feature of his face when he laughed. “Then, should I ask you properly, Miss L/n?” It was a genuine question, not of simple jest. “There is no harm in questions.” He took a deep breath and looked me in the eyes. 

“Miss L/n, will you please allow me the great honor of making you my wife?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes widened at my quick response. “I’m sorry Colonel, but I cannot promise to be any man’s wife who sits prettily in a corner and who is expected to obey every word he says. I won’t be expected to just sit around waiting for you-...him- to come home.” 

“Wherever you are is my home; my only home.”

There was sincerity in his eyes. Love. “Mr. Han,” He sighed taking my hands in his. Though his touch was still unfamiliar, it felt sure and safe. “Miss L/n, please let me speak.” He practically begged. I waited silent for him to continue.

“I am half in hope and half in agony. If your feelings are still what I assumed they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged but one word from you will silence me on the subject forever.” He searched my eyes for an answer. 

“Miss L/n, I am in love with you more than you will ever know. I want nothing more than to be with you. To wake up to every morning- to fall asleep next to you every night. To stand next to me, not behind me. I am in love with your wit, and your charm, and how you always keep me on my toes more than any battle ever has. I am in love with your modern values and your spontaneity.” Han’s hands were rough against mine, his slender fingers ghosting over my skin.

“Y/n...Will you marry me, and do me the honor of letting me be your husband?”

Han’s dark eyes looked into mine- indeed half in agony and half in hope. He looked at me as if everything in the world that mattered to him was standing in front of him. The look in his eyes couldn’t help but make me smile. I was in love with Colonel Han Jisung and it couldn’t be helped.

“Yes,”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” He asked. “Of course.” He smiled and looked down at his hands still gently holding mine. “May I?” He asked softly, glancing between my eyes and my lips. It only took a small nod for him to act, pressing his lips softly onto mine. My head begin to feel dizzy in the best way. His fingers traveled up the bare skin of my arms and then down to rest on my waist, bringing me closer. Han smiled as my hands pressed against his chest, kissing him back. 

“I love you, Jisung. With all my heart.”

“It took you long enough to say it, my darling.”

El Fin

Requests are open my lovelies!

Masterlist

[obxwhore]

The Night It Happened - Chapter One

Summary: It’s been two years since Ariana West, the fifth member of the Pogues vanished out of nowhere. After months of searching, they had no choice but to give up and her disappearance was left a mystery to her family and her best friends. After having the summer of their lives, the four remaining Pogues are met with shock when their missing friend stumbles into John B’s backyard, bloody and bruised. Ariana having no recollection of where she had been, and the group having very little trust with the law enforcement of Outer Banks, they rush to find out what happened to Ariana before it happens again.

Word Count: 1.7K

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mentions of kidnapping, mentions and images of abuse.

A/N: Hello! Thank you guys so much for the positive reception I’ve been getting from the prologue. I was really nervous to put my writing out there, so it really means a lot. This is the first official chapter. I’ve written and rewritten it probably around four or five times and I’m pretty happy with the end result. Let me know what you guys think! I’m still trying to figure out where I want to go with the story, but I’ll try to keep updates as consistent as possible.

 Find the prologue here: https://obxwhore.tumblr.com/post/620367150401585152/the-night-it-happened-prologue

Two Years Later; the Winter after the Treasure Hunt.

John B sat in a hammock in front of his house, watching his breath escape his mouth in clouds as it entered the cool air of a North Carolina winter. John B didn’t very much like cold weather, much preferring the feeling of crisp Atlantic waves on a hot summer day. But for some reason, he was content with the icy feeling of this year’s twilight. Perhaps it was because the cold reminded him of emptiness, the feeling that has been stalking him since he and Sarah returned from sea, gold-less. Disappointment flooded his veins every time he looked at a photo of his late father, feeling like a letdown. A failure. Drowning in the idea of what could’ve been. Regardless, the love of his best friends and his girlfriend have kept him afloat. It kept him comfortable.

The voice of his best friend JJ Maybank invaded his ears as he tuned back into the conversation currently being held between the Pogues and Sarah.

“-and when Barry had us all on the side of the road with a gun pointed at us.” JJ said, laughter evading his lips as if the near death experience was the funniest thing to ever happen to him.

“Or when John B literally drove a boat into the middle of a tropical storm.” Pope added.  

“I’m just glad we’re all okay and alive.” John B muttered, not quite in the mood for reminiscing.

“We should go on another adventure,” JJ had a devilish smirk on his face, “I haven’t felt a rush like that since school started back up.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for a good reason.” Kiara added.

“Maybe you should just focus on getting good grades. That should be an adventure all on its own.” John B joked.

“Easy for you to say, high school drop out.” JJ threw back. John B hadn’t actually dropped out, he just opted to take all of his classes online. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning to school, life being just as boring as it was before. So he didn’t. Sarah had bought him a fancy new laptop so that he could get all of his work done and for the most part, he did.

“Think about it guys,” JJ continued, “the Pogues and the Kook, back in action!”

“And what do you suggest we do now? What kind of quest do you see for us, oh wise one?” Pope retorted.

“We could run drugs.” JJ suggested bluntly.

“I think not.” Kiara stated, not amused.

“I don’t think I can afford another ‘quote-on-quote’ adventure. Ever since I was emancipated, Sheriff Shoupe has been up my ass making sure I don’t mess up.” John B added. After the murder charges against John B were dropped, he fought with CPS tooth-and-nail to stay on the island. He got a job at a surf shop and makes just enough money to stay afloat.

Rafe Cameron ended up getting charged with the murder of Sheriff Peterkin and Wade Cameron got charged with the murder of John B’s father, attempted murder on John B, and a few other charges surrounding his involvement with the murder of Peterkin. The trials for the father-and-son duo are still in progress. As a result of Wade’s arrest, no one knows if the gold ever actually made it to Nassau and John B is positive that Wade will never tell him.

“Fine,” JJ huffed, “then I guess I’ll just close my eyes and relive last summer over and over again.”

“I wish Ariana was there to enjoy it with us.” Kiara hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it just slipped. A blanket of solemnness fell over the group as they thought about their missing friend. Sarah looked down, feeling awkward at the mention of the girl that used to be a part of the group. She wished she had been able to get to know Ariana. They had met a few times, but they had never gone past surface level conversation because of the Pogues vs Kooks war. With the way the Pogues talk about her, she was sure they would’ve been great friends.

“I miss her.” JJ added, looking down as if to hide his face from his friends. Everyone agreed with him. Life after Ariana was hollow, but at the same time, they always felt her with them. No matter what they’re doing or how long it’s been, she lives in the back of their heads as a distant memory; a beacon of light when the darkness start to take over. When JJ’s dad unleashes his rage onto him, she is there in his head to tell him that everything is going to be okay. When Pope is thrown around by stray kooks during his grocery runs, she is there in his head to help him fight them off. When Kiara needs someone to talk to, Ari is there to hold her hand and listen to her vent. And finally, when John B is feeling utterly alone, Ariana is there to remind his that he’s not. That’s their friend; not present, but always there.

As the others slowly fluttered back into normal conversation, John B became a victim of his thoughts once again. His mind raced with sporadic images of his lost friend. Flashes of long brown hair, white painted nails, a breathtaking smile. The smell of strawberry shampoo raiding his nostrils as soft arms envelope him in a warm hug. Moments shared between them that he cherished more than anything in the world. His best friend.

A hand creeping onto his own shook him from his thoughts. But as he smiled reassuringly as Sarah, his girlfriend, all he could think about was the smell of strawberries.

•

•

•

Hours have gone by and the group is getting ready to say their goodbyes. The smell of burning wood is starting to give them headaches and it was getting pretty late, the moon shining bright in the sky now. JJ was staying the night at the Chateau, as he usually did. His dad sat like a stick of dynamite back at the Maybank house with JJ being the match needed to light it. Some nights, the blonde boy just couldn’t handle dealing with that. Pope wanted to stay over as well but ever since the event of summer, his dad had tightened the leash considerably. Kiara had to work early the next morning and Sarah felt like John B needed space.

Pope shot up off the hammock with a stretch, a yawn quickly following his movements. Kiara moved towards the radio softly playing music, reaching to turn it off and retire it back to the porch for the night. Unknown to the group, a girl was sluggishly making her way down John B’s street towards to Chateau. The color of crimson caked her face and body like paint on a canvas, fresh blood mixing with old. Dark bruises were polka dots on her body, shades of purple and brown swirling together to create an explosion of circles and handprints. There was dry dirt covering every inch of her body as if she had rolled in it all day.

When she made it to the front yard, she hugged her arms to her chest as the cold of the air began to really take its toll. A deep exhaustion settled on her leaving her ready to collapse, but she was determined to make it back to her friends. She had made it this far so she couldn’t stop now. She finally stumbled into the groups line of vision.

Kiara was the first one to notice. She let out a sharp, loud gasp as her hand flew to cover her mouth in shock. This brought the attention of everyone else. JJ followed her line of vision and has he reached the end, he paled to the color of paper as if he’d just seen a ghost. One-by-one, Pope, Sarah, and John B turned their heads and were greeted with the sight of their missing friend.

Tangled waist length brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, leaves and twigs stuck throughout. She was wearing a white tank top and baggy black pants, no shoes adorning her bare feet. The blood, dirt, and bruises were a plague to her body. She looked like she had literally crawled out of a cheap grave.

“Holy shit” John B took a step forward. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He and the rest of the Pogues had accepted a long time ago that Ariana was most likely dead. It had never seemed probable that she would ever come back, yet here she is.

“Holy shit!” John B repeated, louder this time, as he started to make his way towards the girl. Tears flowed freely down his face as emotions slammed through him. He thought he had lost his best friend forever, but here she was. He shrugged off his jacket, the frigid air giving him goosebumps, but he could not care less.

Once he reached her, he helped her get the jacket on. She started to become overwhelmed now, tears prickling her eyes as she felt warmth for the first time in two years. Everyone had the same feeling pooling through them at the sight of their friend: dread. The state of her being sent shivers down Kiara’s spine and JJ had to literally cover his mouth to keep down the bile that threatened to make itself known.

“What the fuck, Ari?” John B said, sobs racking his body now as he gently grabbed her hand.

“I’m sorry.” Ariana whispered, breaking her silence.

“You’re sorry?” John B questioned in disbelief. He couldn’t believe that she was apologizing for her own abduction, as if it were her fault.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Kiara  added, bringing Ariana’s attention to everyone else once again.

As Ariana looked up at the rest of the group, the vivid emptiness swirling through her eyes hit them like a punch to the face. The once bright emerald eyes that gleamed with excitement were now dulled and clouded. The once strong, independent, free-spirited girl was now just a hollow shell of who she used to be. And as all of this dawned upon them, John B, Pope, Kiara, Sarah, and JJ all had one thought in their minds. They were going to find and kill whoever did this to their friend.

 Taglist: @thelovelydreamer17 @sunshine-27-grape-juice @starswin @minnie-mitzel

[lelenoir]

characters;; wong kunhang, wong yukhei [ft: yuna and sejun (ocs)]

word count;; 4.8k

warnings;; hallucinations, implied character death, hendery discreetly trying to kill you

part of @starryqian & @takitaro 's stephen king collab,, this is very late im so sorry :(

shoutout to @jenoir for proofreading this messy baby :')

sorry if comes off as a bit rushed :(( i was ✨struggling✨ and i wanted to get this out soon

NIGHT SEVEN

Run. Run as fast as you can. Run till your legs burn. Run till the sun dies out. Your life depends on it.

The woods were an unforgiving place. Especially at night when the lights turn off and the mind is at its all time high. The sounds you were hearing were unmistakable. The footsteps and the chunk of leaves cracking beneath them told you they were close. And they were coming in fast.

Your breaths came out in pants while your legs begged you to stop. But you couldn't, not when you came all this way. Suffered days in the harsh wrath of mother nature. No, you couldn't afford to die now. And as if things weren't worse enough, you tripped on an overarching root. A wild thorn grazing the skin of your ankle, making you hiss.

The sounds were getting closer now but your legs had already given up. Already turning to jelly as soon as you'd stopped running. You huddled yourself against a nearby tree in hopes of its protection. The low growl that erupted from whatever was out there echoed around the trees like a villain toying with its prey.

Your instincts were telling you to gather whatever you could. To pray to whatever higher being was up there for one last miracle. But you knew better. There were no gods that could hear you within these woods.

So you count to ten like Hendery taught you and braced yourself at the mercy of whatever being was on the other side of the trunk.

Five… four… three… two… one.

DAY ONE, TWO HOURS BEFORE

Friends. You love them. You care for them. And you'd do pretty much anything for them. Right now you really hated that concept. And you really hated the way you'd fallen for it.

Sitting in the backseat of a car with your friend and her boyfriend arguing in the front was not how you expected your Friday to go. You grumbled under your breath, looking out the window as you watched landmarks pass by. You were such a great friend. And in your greatness as a friend, you let yourself be strung along to what you've just declared as 'the worst weekend of your life'.

"If you want to stop then stop! I'm just saying that with all the places you want to stop by we might not get to the one place we actually want to go in time." She argued, putting air quotes on the words 'stop by' with an over the top eye roll. That's your friend, Yuna. She wasn't like that most of the time, the opposite actually. In your friend group she was considered as this huge ball of sunshine. Her current boyfriend just brings out the worst in her, which, in your book, is reason number one on why she should break up with him.

"You say it's okay but then you always add something like that. If you don't want to just say it! No need to act like such a saint." And on the left corner was, you guessed it, her boyfriend Sejun. As an individual, he was okay. A little douchey but everyone has a bit of douchiness inside of them in your opinion. However, pair him up with Yuna then that's a different story. They were like monsters, only acting up when close to one another. It makes you wonder why they're still holding on to each other. But, alas, humans are very complex creatures. You'd rather read a book than try to understand them.

So you do. You whip out 'Alice in Wonderland' off your bag and start reading. You didn't like butting into other people's relationships, much less going on weekend trips with them but Yuna, your sweet amazing friend, managed to convince you to go with them. How? Through bribery. Yup, after promising you that you were free for this and next month's rent, you were quick to settle your belongings. You were a simple girl with simple priorities and at the top of that list of priorities is surviving college.

You'd read at least two chapters when they'd decided to stop at some mountain. Being the sporty and outgoing couple that they were, they weren't here to take pictures nor eat at the local diner. No. They were here to hike.

You sighed in defeat when Yuna visibly beamed at you. You reluctantly placed your book down next to you before grabbing your small bag of food and water.

The two were now giving each other the silent treatment while Yuna held onto you like a leech. It was awkward to say the least, especially with the side glances they keep giving each other and you were in the middle of it. Like a small child in the middle of their parents' divorce all over again. You hated it.

You could already feel the energy getting drained away from you and you hadn't even stepped on the mountain yet. That's how intense they were. You never voiced it out. Too afraid that they might gang up on you instead of each other. They may be worse against each other but together, they're a nightmare. You much preferred them going at each other's throats rather than yours.

The mountain was as green as you expected it to be. There was a clear path set out at the foot of it with little to no people standing by. It was higher than most you'd climbed and a vast forest enveloped it. The place was quiet and it looked like one of those towns that rarely had anything bad happen to it but on the off chance that something did happen, it was bad. Really bad.

"Okay so we have like an hour here before we continue on our trip." Yuna said, looking at the map in her hands. "This should be fun."

Really? You wanted to ask. But oh you were such a good friend. You scoped the mountain once again, already dreading the experience as Yuna gestures you to come forward and Sejun already walking up the path. You sighed to yourself, opting to give yourself an internal pep talk as your legs carried you to the start of a very begrudging journey.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

An hour had passed. And you know it had, based on the watch you'd carried on your wrist. The small diner at the bottom of the mountain had already left your vision minutes ago.

On your way up, the ground diverged into two paths. The right side leading towards a secluded resort while the other pointed towards an upward slope. The couple opted to take the left. Your frown deepened.

One hour, my ass! You screamed in your mind, throwing a mini tantrum as you glared at Yuna's back. Your feet stomping on the (thankfully) dry ground, lips pursed and brows stitched together. You hated being a good friend.

In the midst of your childish antics, you heard a chain snap off your bag. You quickly turned around to see your treasured key chain on the ground. It was a gift from your late mother, a small remembrance of the time you both went to Disneyland. The first and last time. You bent down to pick it up when a sudden flash of white tore through your line of sight.

A white rabbit stood in front of you, your keychain tucked in between its mouth as it stared at you. As if waiting for you to chase it. Its red eyes bore into yours.

They say when your eyes focus on one thing, everything around you blurs in the distance. Nothing but muffled background noises and subtle outside forces. That should've been your first warning.

"Why are you even yelling at me?" Sejun complained, snapping your attention back. They were back at it again. You hadn't even heard Yuna yell at him during your short daze. You held back for a while, watching them argue as they walked. That should've been your second warning.

Like a magnet, you felt your gaze shift back to the rabbit. Indistinct whispers emerged around you. That should've been your third. You glared at the small creature still holding on to your precious trinket before it suddenly dashed in the woods. You clenched your teeth, unable to stop yourself as you followed after it. Strike.

DAY ONE

You cheered in triumph as you retrieved your belonging, smirking at the rabbit as it looked up to you. The rabbit cocked it's head on one side, as if to question you, before hopping away from you. You furrowed your eyebrows before finally looking around where you were. Your eyes widened at your surroundings. The green scenery of the trees covered your vision as you cautiously stepped forward. The path was nowhere to be found and dead silence engulfed the air.

"Yuna?" You called out anxiously. "Sejun?" You tried once more. "Yuna!" You say louder but there was no reply. You looked up to the beating sun. It was noon. You couldn't tell which was east or west.

"Yuna!" You screamed. A flock of birds flew in the distance. The loud crows and scampers of the forest animals harmonised with your echo. "Sejun!"

You gulped. You looked in between the trees, trying to decipher even a small silhouette of a clearing. You narrowed your eyes, loosening up your shoulders and hands before taking another step. Then another. And another until you're finally walking towards god knows where. You were slow but you weren't really in a rush.

You pulled your bag closer to your body.

The slightest of sounds rang in your ears making you snap your head to every direction only to see that there was nothing there. That never eased your paranoia. You can feel its eyes trail along the fabric of your jacket. Feel its breath on the back of your neck. Hear its growls close to the shell of your ear. You clasped your shaking hands together, your nervousness evident as your legs began to turn jelly.

"Y-yuna!" You called out helplessly. Tears began to tickle the sides of your temples. "Anyone!?"

It was like that time you went to an amusement park with Yuna. The loud thundering rhythm in your chest, the strong rush of adrenaline leaving your body as soon as it entered, not to mention the growing anxiety constantly increasing as every second passed. It was almost hard to breathe. Almost difficult to take another step.

You collapsed on the ground, spent and shaking. Your hands stayed close to your chest in an attempt to keep warm as the air seemed to have gotten cold---despite being scorching a few moments ago---vision already hazy as you began to slip out of reality.

Just then, a figure emerged from the trees. His tall stature crouched down to get a better look at you. You couldn't even muster up a smile in relief at the stranger. Too tired to feel the cold hand on your cheeks, lightly slapping you back to reality.

Then you let yourself be engulfed in darkness.

DAY TWO

You jolt awake at the impact of his toes on your knee. Your eyes, still blurry from exhaustion, had a hard time adjusting to the harsh light of the afternoon sun.

"You're awake." A voice sighed in relief. You turned your attention to the sound, unsure and terrified as you drew your arms in front of you. "Woah, no need to fight there, little one."

"I'm not a child." You tell him but the stranger merely cocked his head to the side. His gaze curiously fixed on you before smiling.

"Then why are you here?" He shot back. The question seemed to hang in the air and an unsettling ominous feeling creeped up your spine as you mustered up your answer.

"I got lost." You say, face almost a breath away from his as he leaned in closer before prompting his head to nod.

"Exactly." He grinned. "Surely an adult wouldn't get lost within these woods. Especially for a silly trinket such as this." He holds out an object engulfed in his hand. There lay your keychain, dangling in the air and close to your face. You lifted your hand to take it until the stranger dropped it on the ground. It was not much of an action but it was humiliating as you tentatively picked it up from the soil.

"You must be hungry, aren't you?" The stranger lifted his body off the ground.

"Who are you?" You asked, voice still weak as you struggled to support your weight.

He smirked, staring down at you in utter confidence. "Hendery will do for now." You furrowed your eyebrows as he crouched down, once again, in front of you then putting your bag on your lap. "Eat up, little one."

Meanwhile…

"I didn't even notice. God what kind of a person doesn't notice her friend has gone missing." The girl sobbed for the nth time that day. Only a few of the officers paid her any mind while a boy, he assumed to be her boyfriend, sat next to her with his arms engulfing her in a comforting hug.

Lucas sighed at the pitiful sight, there was really nothing much he could do now. The map splayed in front of him was scribbled with a small 'x' within a large circle. He stared menacingly at the location.

"Detective," one of his subordinates came up to him. " What's our course of action?"

He sighed, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

The subordinate couldn't understand his superior's reaction. Why did he look so distressed? It's only been a day since the victim has gone missing. They could be weak or injured, but that's about it. Throughout his time here, a handful of people got lost and all of them have been found.

"Sir?" He succeeded in getting Lucas out of his reverie. The detective then moved his fingers to rub at the lines on his forehead.

"Have everyone search in pairs around the perimeter." He finally ordered.

The subordinate nodded before scurrying off to relay the command.

It was futile. Lucas wanted to say but then that would make him look lazy. He never liked the word, but it was one that described his opponent greatly. He's been lazy. It was suspicious that he managed to find those lost tourists so easily, often they were found by their companions if they searched hard enough, but somehow this search has now stretched for a day.

The missing person, L/n Y/n, was last seen by her two friends yesterday, November 15, XXXX. It has been a day since then. The longest search in five years.

Lucas narrowed his eyes at the small x located at the north east side of the map.

What are you playing at, Kunhang?

xxx

"Keep up, little one. We have a long way ahead of us." Hendery calls out, walking a few feet away from you. His strides, quick and wide, has you picking up your pace. You couldn't help but pant as you trail behind him, the food in your pack weighing you down a bit but you couldn't afford to leave them behind.

"Why are you doing this?" You askes in between heavy breaths. Relief washed over you when he paused.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Why are you helping me?" You finally caught up to him. You splayed your arm out to the nearest tree as you calmed your breathing.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" He shot back as if it was stupidly obvious.

"Yes but--"

"You hear a person desperately calling out to someone for help and they sound incredibly in need. Wouldn't you help them?" You stared at him in shock, both of you quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Isn't mankind built to be rational and compassionate? Do you doubt me as a person?"

"N-no I was just curious." Hendery narrowed his eyes at you, pursing his lips as he thought deeply. Not long after, a smile stretched on his face.

"Right, curiosity does come from rationality. I can't really blame you for being human I guess… but you must understand, little one, curiosity is a double edged sword. Once you wield it recklessly, the consequences may be severe." He looked away from you, eyes focusing on whatever was ahead before assuming his previous trek. "Keep up, little one, the sun won't last forever."

"Where are we going?" He smiled at that and you noticed that he had gone at a slower pace than before, walking side by side with you.

"You've used your curiosity well I see. We are going to find shelter. It's been hours now so the police are probably already looking for you. I don't know where you started running but let's hope this area of the forest is still part of the search. Daylight is slowly dying and we need to find a safe place rather than that clearing you passed out in."

"Why are you here then?" You asked. "In the forest, I mean."

"One thing about mankind is that they don't recognize chances." He whispered under his breath. A sound of confusion escaped your lips, he either ignored it or didn't hear it. "Some things are better left a secret, little one. Use your curiosities wisely."

DAY THREE

"If an animal comes rushing at you, what do you do?" Hendery asked one morning as he sat at the edge of the small stream you'd found.

In the years you'd watched documentaries and survival movies, one thing always played a vital role in human survival: water. So when you happened to come across the stream, the both of you couldn't say no to the opportunity. During your walk yesterday, the both of you came across a small shack hidden by the trees: its wooden walls looked old and were infested by moss; however you weren't really picky. It was the only shelter you could find and you lacked the supplies and skills to even attempt making a tent. There was a small window on one side and a few empty shelves on the other.

You thought for a while about his question before telling him the first answer that comes to mind. "Dodge it, I guess."

He stood up from his seat, walking towards you before sitting next to you. In a flash, you felt his hand push against your collarbone, sending you back on the ground.

He looked down at you and hummed. "Seems pretty ineffective."

You glared. "I wasn't ready."

"And what makes you think that you'll be ready when the attack comes?" He raised an eyebrow. You opened your mouth to retort but no words came. "I thought so."

He pushed his body off the ground once again. This time, to inspect the plants behind you.

"What would you do then?" He smirked.

"Like you said, I'll dodge." He starts, swaying his body slightly for a moment before suddenly running towards you. "Then attack." He whispered, just by your ear and you felt a chill run down your spine. A small shadow rose above you and it's then that you saw a large rock in his hand, parallel to the skull of your forehead. You sensed the object pick up its pace and you barely had enough time as you moved your head away from its course.

Hendery smashed the rock to the ground. His body slanted forward and you took this chance to stand and land a hit directly at his nape with the side of your hand. He jolted forward at the force and you started to distance yourself away from him.

"What the fuck, Hendery?" You watch in slight horror as he chuckled lightly before turning to you with a smile.

"No need to worry, y/n." He picked up a piece of the rock. "It's shale," he held it up with his fingers before breaking them, "practically harmless."

You let him walk past you before making your way towards the remnants of the stone. Looking back, you see him occupy himself with some berries on a nearby bush. You gently picked up a small piece of the rock, imitating what Hendery just did with his fingers.

It wouldn't budge.

You furrowed your eyebrows, this time using both hands to break it. The sheer force of your finger tips made your skin slip. A small cut was drawn on your thumb and you narrowed your eyes on it.

You looked over to Hendery who was now picking out some berries. You glared at his back. This fucker was trying to kill you.

You decided not to voice out your concerns. It was smarter to observe him for now and run away later.

Use your curiosities wisely. The words echoed in your mind as you gripped the strap of your bag tighter.

It'd been a while since he's had this much entertainment. From a human, no less. Usually they would've been dead by now or begging for their pitiful lives. But you? You were something special.

Hendery couldn't help but smirk.

DAY FIVE

"You don't trust me." You flinched at the sound of his voice. All of the forest seemed to have stopped moving for a second as you scramble for your thoughts.

You whip around, ready to deny the accusation before he lifted one finger up to silence you. "I don't really blame you about this but then why are you still here?"

Why were you still here?

You had an answer to that of course but admitting it out loud would've exposed you further to the man in front of you. You were afraid, weak and very fragile at this point. Your body was growing unbearably hot and your head has been in pain since yesterday. You didn't want to inform him of your state.

"There's safety in numbers. I don't know what's out there and frankly, I'm not prepared to face them either." You answered curtly. The response heightened Hendery's interest and he couldn't help but wonder: why would you lie?

Fortunately, he let it go. Being as he was, he asked you another question. "If an animal stalks you while you're powerless, what would you do?"

"Another one of your hypothetical scenarios?"

He shrugged, "you'll never know."

"Guess I'll die."

Hendery blew raspberries at that, unable to contain his laughter at your blunt reply. "You really are amusing, aren't you?"

"What do you suggest I do then?"

"Good point," he thinks for a moment, resting his chin on his fingers in a childish manner that made you slightly confused about the different sides he held. He sighed in defeat, "it really is a hopeless case!" He groaned, "the least you could probably do is count to ten and hope for the best."

You raised an eyebrow at him, holding back a humoured smile. "Thanks for the tip."

He grinned, "you're welcome!"

xxx

That night, a low rumbling growl awoke you from your slumber. You jumped up from your position, the thin blankets of leaves rustling below you as you looked around the dark room. The dim glow of the moon didn't help much but you could faintly see a huge silhouette of a figure standing right outside the window. Its back was turned in your view and you couldn't identify what it was.

You looked to your side to see Hendery gone. You panicked, the adrenaline spiking up to your lungs as you began to panic. The figure was still out there and it was not going anywhere.

You take a cautious step forward, the floorboards creaking as you did so. You tensed at the loud sound. Your whole body froze, keeping an eye at the window when the door of the shack suddenly opened.

"Did I wake you?" Hendery asked, rubbing his temples while he stood at the door. "I needed to pee."

"N-no?" He only nodded his head before groggily walking to his spot on the floor.

You were now wide awake. The will to sleep abandoning you as you hesitantly lay on your back.

The shadow was still there.

DAY SEVEN

"Hey y/n," you looked up from your seat to the man next to you. The slight flinch of your shoulders didn't go unnoticed by him.

You'd been exceptionally jumpy since yesterday and Hendery knew why. Fear was a cord that humans could never cut off. Once you're introduced to an unknown being, your whole body freezes as you desperately try to make sense of what you've witnessed, just to ease your irrational mind.

"We don't have any food left." Hendery says, holding out the empty wrappers of the bread you ate the night before.

You thought for a while, the image of the shadow pushed to the back of your head for a short while. "I guess we need to start looking for something to eat? I think there are some edible berries and plants we can collect."

He appeared to be considering it before nodding his head. "Okay! I'll go look for something to eat. Go start up a fire y/n to keep us warm while I go in the woods."

You nodded your head, already preoccupied with the grass, thoughts wandering back again to whatever it was that you saw.

With the way you were going, it almost felt like Hendery had only been gone for a few seconds when he came back just to see you hunched over; the same stance you had when he left. He sighed.

"You okay?" And there you were again, jumping a few good centimeters away from him. "I told you to start a fire."

Your eyes widened in shock before sputtering out multiple apologies. Hendery pressed his lips to a thin line.

"I'll start it, don't worry y/n. Just stay here." You nodded, eyes focusing on the ground that you failed to see the smirk on your companion's lips. He handed you a leaf filled with mushrooms, berries and some nuts.

"I hope they find us soon." You huffed, lifting a few of the food to your lips. Hendery watched you intently, smiling to himself before picking at the edibles on his makeshift plate.

"I hope so too. It's already been a week."

Suddenly, you felt your vision turn hazy. You furrowed your brows, concentrating on a specific tree as it morphed with its surroundings. "H-hendery?"

You lazily turned your head to your side, the weight felt light on your neck that you whipped faster than you've anticipated. Thus, your brain began to ache. You focused on Hendery's features, his expression unreadable as he, too, became a blurry mess of lights and shadows.

Once your eyes finally closed, Hendery let out the chuckle he's been holding in. He lifted your body off the ground.

Thus the game comes to end.

NIGHT SEVEN

Four… three… two… one…

You opened your eyes when you realised your limbs were still intact. The animal was nowhere in sight. Still, you couldn't shake off the overwhelming presence you felt all around you.

Looking around, it was pitch black. No shine of the moonlight peeked through the leaves of the trees, no sound of the whistles of the wind as you stood up from your terrified stance. Cautiously, you took a step forward. Your bag slumping down your shoulders before falling to the ground.

Your whole body felt weightless and you didn't find enough care in you to pick it up. Not even when the gleam of your treasures keychain sparked your vision.

You were tired.

You fell forward, a flash of bright white lights shocking your eyes as you squinted. A hum of a familiar lullaby and a chorus of footsteps neared your fragile body. You allowed your eyes to close as you finally relaxed, feeling the warmth of an embrace wrap around you. The smell of mint and chocolates killing you to sleep as gentle hands lift you up.

The soft song never faltered, vibrating across the person's chest and to your warm cheek.

You were going home.

xxx

In the shadows, Hendery watched as multiple police officers circled your body. One of them, Wong Yukhei, lifted you off the ground. He shakes his head in disappointment and regret at the state you're in: head bloodied, limbs bruised, and skin already blue.

Cold hands and feet already limp from the games he played, strumming your chords throughout the week until you eventually snapped.

Hendery hummed, a sweet lullaby in contrast to his wicked deeds. There was no shadow, no animal, nor a Hendery to begin with. It was all a byproduct of the scared, fragile and lonely human mind.

"How unfortunate, little one."