#[i mean unless someone wants 2 wine and dine but the answer is NO]

[prurientpuddlejumper]

You’re a Mean One, Mr. Kneef (Part 2)

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

For @thatesqcrush​’s Naughty or Nice Holiday Bingo! Filling the Fake Relationship When Visiting Family square. 

Bryan Kneef x Female Reader

Warnings: Language. Holiday fluff. Bryan being the worst... but also hot? Horrible pet names. Nothing nsfw happens this chapter except Bryan’s mouth. 

2,900 words

The bluish LED headlights of Bryan Kneef’s BMW blinded other drivers as they cut through the dark on the drive to his parents’ suburban house. You ascertained from the hands-free call he was making the family hadn’t started dinner yet. Christmas was close to the winter solstice, so it wasn’t as late as the sky suggested, although you’d heard a hungry child screaming impatiently about having to wait for Uncle Bry.

“Uncle Bry,” you teased as the call ended.

He chuckled. “That would be my brother’s kid, Finn. My brother’s name is Timothy. The CEO of LogicFinance. You will say you’ve ‘heard so much about them.’ Let’s review.”

“Jesus.”

Sitting next to Bryan while his attention wasn’t on you, you lost yourself noticing things. The clean smell of his cologne. How sexy he looked—in a rich douchey way—in his tailored suit and expensive car. His long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. That beard that made you want to scream, “Daddy!”

You could almost forget he was the asshole who held every paralegal at STR Laurie hostage with busywork unless you pretended to be the woman who dumped him. 

Until he started barking at you to memorize facts about his life.

“First, what do I have to know about this woman I’m supposed to be?”

He stared straight ahead at the road. “Her name is Sydney. So you’re Syd from now on.”

“Oh joy. Being called your ex’s name all night won’t be weird or anything.”

“You were the one who wanted to get out of work.”

“Whatever. I bet you already forgot my real name, anyway.”

He didn’t contradict you. The engine roared to life as he changed lanes before signaling and cut off the SUV he’d been tailgating for the last mile.

Your arms crossed over your chest. “How much did you tell your family about Sydney? I hope you didn’t send them any pictures.”

“Not much, and obviously not. I’m not stupid.”

“Just pathetic.”

He scowled. Before he could think of a searing response to take back control of the conversation, you asked another question that knocked him off balance.

“What made this one so different? We’ve been working together for what, a year? And I’ve never seen you upset over a breakup.”

“The sex was fantastic,” he answered too loudly.

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh yeah. I’ve never had a woman who could keep up with me—”

“Because you finish too quickly?”

“Cute. Keep it up.” He stepped on the gas again and your stomach lurched as he pulled off another aggressive passing maneuver in the right lane. “No one walks away from my bed unsatisfied. You could find out. A little reward for helping me out tonight?”

“Not in a million years,” you clipped, shutting him down, even though your wild, lonely, horny side that noticed his beard and fingers was beating at the inside of your skull. “You are going to keep it decent and chaste. Ground rules: holding hands. Kisses on the cheek. Moderate cuddling as the situation calls for it. That should be plenty to sell that we’re involved.”

“You haven’t seen me around women I’m involved with,” he smirked with a suggestive glint in the side of his eye.

“And I’m sure your parents haven’t seen you with a partner who isn’t just some bimbo you’re screwing, either. Cop a feel, and I end the charade right there.”

That comment, which was more insightful than you knew, silenced him. His suggestive side-glance returned forward to focus on the road. That look was back on his face again—the look when he ran out of swaggering bullshit to spew. Sadness. Genuine human sadness.

“She wasn’t clingy,” he said, voice a soft rumble. “Didn’t expect me to be her fucking boyfriend—she was the one who told me no strings.”

“You loved her because she was distant?”

“No. I don’t know. She did nice things, too—like ask how my day was, and bring me coffee. She remembered the way I like it.”

“That’s just basic human kindness, Bryan.” You sighed. “That’s actually… really sad.”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean it. You call women clingy for wanting to be close to you, and now you’re so starved for connection you think remembering your coffee order is a huge deal. Your secretary knows your coffee order. Hell, I know your damned coffee order you’ve sent me out for it enough times, even though—as I often remind you—that’s not my job. I’m sorry. Really. But maybe this is a lesson? That you actually have a heart and might want to try opening it sometime?”

“How the fuck is that the lesson? I open my heart, I get hurt. From now on, I’m only dating broads who disgust me.” His eyes lingered on you for a dangerously long time until you got the point and gave an annoyed grunt. His eyes returned to the road, corners crinkled in satisfaction.

***

Dinner was already starting when Bryan’s BMW finally pulled into the driveway of a large house on a private cul-de-sac. The porch was glowing with tasteful white lights and a wreath on the door. Silhouettes were moving behind the decorative glass set into the front door, waiting for you to get out of the car. As soon as you approached, the door flew open and you were hit with the smell of roast turkey.

“Bry-Bry! We were worried you wouldn’t make it!” His silver-haired mother threw her arms around Bryan’s neck while he grumbled with reluctant affection, hugging her back.

A rich oaken voice of the man who must have been his father said, “And this must be the famous Sydney. We thought we’d never get to meet you.” He shook your hand warmly.

Both of them were wearing hideous red and green Christmas sweaters straight out of a Hallmark movie.

“I can’t believe this one hasn’t driven you away!” Bryan’s mom teased, pinching his pink cheek as she did so. “We’re so happy you put up with our little monster.” She hugged you.

“Come, come on in. Let me take your coat. We were just starting dinner—you’re right on time.” His dad helped you shrug your winter coat off and hung it up in the entryway closet for you.

This was… bizarre. How the hell did people this friendly churn out a Bryan?

More shocking still was when you felt warm, long fingers twine between yours, and you nearly tore your hand away before remembering you had a “boyfriend” tonight. Bryan smiled at you sweetly, eyes soft and affectionate.

Yep. You’d fallen into some kind of Bizarro World.

Martha, his mother, led you both through the spacious house toward the dining room. “What do you think of our humble home?” she asked, pausing in the living room. “I keep thinking I should move that chair to the other side of the fireplace. What do you think? Would it flow better?”

“Uh, I’m not really—”

“Mom! We’re hungry,” Bryan snapped.

“Oh, come on, honey, let me pick her brain! It’s not every day we have an interior designer in here.”

“Bryan told you I’m an interior designer?” Your mouth smiled pleasantly at Bryan while your eyes stabbed daggers into his stupid handsome face.

“Obviously I forgot I mentioned it,” he smiled back.

You batted your eyes. Now the daggers were on fire.

“Well, what do you think? Chair on the left, or the right?”

“Well,” you said, “the symmetry with the fireplace is… balanced with the rich tones in the leather”—Martha nodded along attentively—“You know, I’ve been working all day, maybe we can talk shop later?”

“Oh! Of course! I’m sorry—Bryan’s mean old mom ambushing you the minute you walk in the door!” She flexed her hand into vampire-claws and playfully attacked your shoulder. “Aw, are the stuffy old adults embarrassing you, peanut?”

Bryan’s cheeks turned the brightest pink you had ever seen them. And this was a man who didn’t blush when telling a roomful of attorneys to go fuck themselves. You let out the first genuine laugh you’d made in his presence. You squeezed his hand.

“Honey-bear, I love your parents!”

***

The table was crowded with Kneef siblings, cousins, and their children and spouses. Finn, you guessed, was the youngest boy. And that would make the silver fox next to him Timothy. His older brother had the same bluntness as Bryan, but none of the cruelty. In fact, his entire family was so… normal.

Bryan’s hard edges were hardly softened in their presence, but unlike in the office where his cranky moods inspired fear, here they were met with boos and hisses and his cousin throwing a bread roll at him. The youngest kids mimicked this exciting behavior, and soon it was raining whole-wheat on Bryan Kneef.

You smiled and patted his hand and called him “dear” and made sure your mouth was full of turkey the moment anyone asked you about yourself.

Over the evening, you learned that Mrs. Martha Kneef put herself through nursing school after having her first child to support the family while her husband piddled around with his low-paying hobby in computers. By the time Bryan was born, his father was programming for a growing company, working his way up the ranks—back in the days when one could do that. By the time Bryan was ten, dad was the Chief Information Officer of one of the largest corporations in the country.

And so Bryan, the youngest, grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth, handed all the things his parents had worked hard for in the hopes that he would have a better life.

“All the child-rearing books at the time said encouragement was important,” said Martha, who was a little drunk on red wine at this point. She let out an exasperated groan. “This is what happens when you encourage too much. We created a monster. Didn’t we?” Her voice went higher as she pinched Bryan’s cheek again.

“Martha and I are so happy to see him finally settling down with someone.”

“Yeah, how’d you manage to find a girl who’ll put up with you?” Tim teased, punching Bryan’s arm.

Bryan stared back. Locked eyes with his brother. He took a deep breath. “How’d you manage to—”

Bryan then asked something too obscene to be repeated, which set the entire table screaming, and parents’ hands clamping over children’s ears (though not before an adorable curly-haired niece asked, “mommy, what’s a prolapsed rectum?”).

You should have been offended, or embarrassed to be attached to the guy wrecking Christmas without even needing to be drunk. But oddly, as hot as your cheeks were, you found yourself laughing. You were dating the most interesting guy at the table. He was so overwhelmingly charismatic—not necessarily in a positive way, but in a way that made him the center of attention in any room he walked into. And he was charming enough for people to keep wanting him around, even when he said things that... were probably going to scar those children for life. Not to mention the adults.

Reaching over, you cupped the opposite side of his cheek and forced him to turn his head to you. “You’re so bad, Bry. How do I put up with you?” You began affectionately scratching his beard like it was something you’d done to him a hundred times. “He’s just so cute, I can’t resist. Settle down now, baby.”

His mom gave a loud, “Aww” and Bryan side-eyed his brother, who snorted.

You were getting into it, mussing up his perfect beard in a way that was sure to annoy him later—but it wasn’t annoying him that was on your mind. It was more the feeling of that coarse but soft hair under your fingertips, the shape of his jawline… the way he was staring back at you, eyelids drooping…

“It’s really the beard I’m dating—if he ever shaves, we’re breaking up,” you joked, suddenly needing to crush the romantic mood. It worked. His family laughed, and Bryan scowled, catching your wrist to make you stop.

***

Bryan wanted to leave right after dinner, but his mother wheedled him to stay.

“We’ve still got your bedroom set up if you want to sleep here. Think of it—we could have Christmas morning together just like when you and Timmy were babies!”

“Ma! I couldn’t impose on Syd. She… has a cat.”

Great. More backstory to remember. You surreptitiously elbowed him in the side.

Bryan got his dominating instincts from somewhere, though. The big ask to stay the night was a tactic to make him give in to the smaller ask of staying for hot cocoa and holiday movies.

Bryan had yet to recover from your crack about breaking up with him and forgot to play the part of the affectionate boyfriend. While her husband was explaining the intricacies of a particular wireless security device to whichever cousins would listen, Martha casually sidled up and whispered, “You don’t have to be shy about PDA in front of us old people. We’ve seen everything.”

“Oh! Uh...” Your mouth gaped, unsure how the fuck to respond to that.

Bryan overheard it and rolled his eyes with a groan. “Ma!”

He looked so grumpy and annoyed, something about it made you kiss him on the cheek. Just to put to rest his mother’s suspicions! That must have been it.

Then Bryan was all fire again, his eyes glittering above a wicked smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you roughly against his arousingly solid body, covering your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Oh god, hot. He was definitely only doing this to make his mom uncomfortable, and if you knew Bryan, he wouldn’t stop until she regretted meddling or he was fucking you on the stack of presents under the tree. So why was your skin too hot? Why did it prickle everywhere his hand wandered? Palming your curves, sliding down to your hips, lowering over the swell of—

You leaned close until your lips brushed the shell of his ear. “Watch your hands, or HR is hearing all about this,” you warned, then pulled away smiling.

Bryan smiled back. “Of course, babycakes.”

“You lovebirds! Keep it PG.”

He warned you in the car that no one would buy him keeping things chaste, didn’t he? Well, you weren’t going to be the one to blow your cover.

When you filed into the living room where the kids were already watching A Christmas Story, there was only one spot left on the couch, and an empty armchair. Bryan flopped down on the recliner, and you sat on his lap. His chest vibrated as he gave an encouraging growl, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“You didn’t expect me to sit alone, did you, honey-bear?” you cooed.

His hand moved to support your hip, cradling you close to him. The other hand covered yours, which was resting on your knee. It was just a performance, but god, his hands were so big and warm, and the gesture so remarkably soft. You let yourself recline back against his chest, and turned your head to inspect his profile—the greying at his temple, a strong, square brow that shaded such lively green eyes.

A fire danced in the fireplace, stockings hung up neatly above it. A tree in the opposite corner filled the room with a piny balsam scent. The whole scene felt so domestic. Bryan’s beard scratched the side of your face, the soft cashmere of the sweater he’d thrown on over his dress shirt making him a comfortable cuddle partner. Suddenly you could imagine perfectly well why someone might put up with him.

“So, Sydney, how did you meet Bryan?” his father asked. A few other prying relatives leaned forward, and you began to sweat.

“Oh… I’m sure Bryan’s already told this story,” you deflected, glancing at him for assistance. Bryan frowned.

“It was through a case.” His evasive answer only made everyone more curious.

“What kind of case?”

“A divorce case.”

A bark of laughter leaped from your throat before you could hold it in, and you had to quickly disguise it as the kind of nostalgic laugh you get from an inside joke. “It’s true”—you stroked Bryan’s beard—“I think he only slept with me as part of the victory, you know? Took my ex’s money, took his wife. You know our Bryan,” you giggled. You would bet money that was exactly how it happened, too. “It’s a major rebound for me. But it’s been working out. Bryan has this whole other side to him that people don’t see.”

He looked at you. The clarity of his green eyes caught you off guard, and you felt a burning heat creeping up the side of your neck toward your ears.

“Well, we’re so happy to meet you!”

“You dog, Bry.”

“Want to see baby pictures?”

The last voice was Martha’s.

“No.” Bryan said. “She doesn’t.”

Of your asshole boss? Why yes. Yes, you did.

“He used to be such a sweet little peanut.” His mother always seemed eager to stir trouble for her brat of a son. “Just wait until you see how cute he was in diapers.”

“No!” Bryan groaned, but couldn’t stop you from following Martha to the family photo albums.

He had no power here.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tagged: @beccabarba​ / @caked-crusader​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​ / @neely1177​ / @onerestein​ / @welcometothemadxxhouse​ / @stardust-fray​ / @dreila03​ / @tropes-and-tales​ / @the-baby-bookworm​ / @ireadfanfictionontheweekends​ 

(I also just tagged everyone who commented/reblogged the last chapter even if u didn’t ask so uhhh >_> lmk if you hate that?)

[imaginesfora3]

It’s About the DRAMA [Sumeragi Tenma] [Pt. 2]

(Second NSFW part to the Tenma commission I did! Please enjoy~)

Even after two entire years Tenma found his heart still beat for you.

When he was around you he could hardly think straight but he was so addicted to the feelings you gave him, the true happiness he felt at seeing you smile or hearing you laugh, he couldn’t pull away. He’s plagued at night by thoughts of you, of thoughts of what could be if he could strike up the courage to ask you on a real date and not just to ‘hang out’. He always went in with the intentions of revealing his feelings, like when he’d invited you out to karaoke that one night and sang a love song that felt reminiscent of this particular situation with you, but everyone and their mother seemed to get in the way. The meaning of the song completely flew over your head and you’d complimented his singing voice, teasing about the next production being a musical starring him.

A few days after the karaoke catastrophe he’d been trying to think of a good way to confess his feelings but could think of nothing that didn’t make him feel pathetic, knowing feeling like this was natural but still hating how soft it made him look. Did women even like men who got this emotional and romantic when it came to him? His naturally abrasive self had been far too used to people fawning over him no matter how he acted but if it was his fame they fell for and not him or his actions, then it wasn’t real love, was it? Just infatuation. It’s the reason why he’d kept his distance in the dating world for so long despite all the interest in him as young handsome actor.

Or at least one of the reasons.

While he was stuck in his thoughts about his sad dating life Banri had entered the kitchen, starting a welcome conversation about clothing styles that served as a distraction for about two minutes. Said distraction quickly fizzled out when you entered the room looking more stunning than Tenma thinks he’d ever seen you, the dress you’re wearing hugging every curve of your body and leaving only the best bits to his imagination. Banri was quietly appreciating you too but was far less obvious about it than Tenma, glancing over at his friend and smirking as Tenma’s eyes drifted down to your ass the moment you’d turned around.

“Keep it together, man.” Banri elbowed him which caused Tenma’s head to snap back up, just in time for you to turn around and face them. “Where are you going lookin’ like that?”

“Out with friends. That okay, dad?” You stuck your tongue out at Banri who fired off some comment about how it was hard to believe you had a life outside the company but Tenma wasn’t listening, not really. Now his thoughts were just plagued with the thoughts of wining and dining you, but the actions that took place after said wining and dining had finished for the night. It’s taking all the will power he had to keep his jaw from hitting the ground when you swung around once more, grabbing a jacket before waving to the two men in the kitchen and being on your way. He wanted desperately to call out your name, to bring you back so he could soak in your beauty for just another second, but you were gone before he’d found his voice again.

“The hell was that about?” Banri was looking at him incredulously, “You stared so hard your eyes could’ve fallen out of your head. You got it that bad for her?”

“…Huh?” Tenma wasn’t listening again, now he was desperately fighting a losing battle against his dick. “Yeah, whatever.”

Banri doesn’t say anything else but it’s clear he’d picked up on all the signals Tenma had been sending your way, not really knowing how to help his friend out if he couldn’t even admit the feelings were there. He simply stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away, leaving Tenma standing at the counter for a few more minutes, not even realizing he’s alone. When Tenma finally noticed Banri was gone he didn’t feel so self-conscious about the bulge in his pants, making a mad dash for his room and hoping he didn’t run into any other troupe member on the way there. It was the weekend so most were either holed up in their room getting much needed rest or out and about having fun until it was time to be back to business.

Tenma had never been more grateful that Yuki was a shopaholic as he clambered into his bed, leaving the room empty so that Tenma could handle his business. He hardly found the energy to masturbate but when he did he knew how to be quick about it, something very necessary for living in this dorm with a roommate who was almost always there.

Tenma glanced nervously at the door, worried about someone busting it down though there’d be no reason to do so; he could’ve locked it if he really wanted to but he didn’t feel like answering Yuki’s questions should the younger boy come home and not be able to get into his own room. Tenma’s hands slid down his pants and he rubbed his dick through his underwear, unzipping his jeans to give himself more room to work with and turning away from the door, just in case the whole ‘busting in’ scenario happened. It’s not comfortable enough so he decided on laying on his back, pants fully pulled down as his hand strokes up and down his length. He’s thinking about you, your ass, your mouth, your voice, everything that had to do with you was so incredibly attractive that he knew he’d come sooner rather than later as long as he kept up the pace. Your name slipped from his mouth, an accident, one that he didn’t think would cost him as dearly as it did.

“Tenma…?” The door creaked open but he didn’t process it quick enough, continuing to pump his length, finger stroking over the sensitive head when he realized your voice was no longer just in his head. His head whipped towards the door and he meets your eyes, his heart dropping down to the underworld as he realized you were staring at- “Fuck! I’m sorry!”

You hadn’t realized Yuki wasn’t in. Part of your jacket was ripped and you had simply wanted to come see if he could fix it up for you, having a replacement if need be, but instead you’d walked in on… An oddly attractive and incredibly embarrassing scene. You felt guilt seep into your bones at the horrified expression on Tenma’s face, watching as he rolled onto his side to fix himself quickly while trying to sputter out excuses that just wouldn’t form into full sentences; you couldn’t really blame him, this was probably in his top ten most mortifying moments now. You should’ve knocked, you know you should’ve, but now you knew that the carpet matched the drapes and that his dick was rather sizeable and-

You shouldn’t be thinking these things about him.

But hadn’t he been calling out your name?

Had he been thinking those things about you?

It wasn’t as though there were signs that Tenma might feel some type of way towards you. You’d seen him gaping at you in the kitchen and felt rather proud at his reaction, even turning around again to give him a view of all that you had; you hadn’t even realized you were showing off for him until you’d walked outside and the cool night air brought you back to reality. You weren’t in some sleazy romance novel, Tenma deserved romance and flirting and the whole shebang, not just sexual tension. Azuma had been the first one to bluntly point out that Tenma was clearly in love with you, head over heels, no doubt about it, and since Azuma seemed to be the expert in these you had truly wanted to believe him. You didn’t at first but the longer this tension between you and Tenma continued to grow… After this incident, after definitely hearing your name come from his mouth as he was certainly masturbating… Maybe you had to stop ignoring it.

Maybe you just had to deal with the fact Tenma loved you.

But how?

You don’t find an answer for another year.

Tenma’s career was in full swing meaning you rarely saw him around anymore, something that both broke your heart and brought some type of relief. As much as you wanted to confront him on his feelings you still hardly understood your own, nervous about the concept of dating someone younger than you, worried that you hadn’t interpreted the signs correctly. You had no doubt Tenma would be a good boyfriend but would you be good enough for him? It wasn’t to say you weren’t a good, loving person but would you be enough for Tenma? Popular, famous Tenma who practically had women throwing themselves at him left and right, who worked with gorgeous movie stars and was messaged by famous models daily?

He’d been gone about six months at this point but Summer Troupe’s annual play was coming around and he was ready to come home, to see his friends and live in the dorm once again. He’d contacted you and asked for you to pick him up, almost not bothering to send the text as he was still embarrassed by the entire masturbation situation. He didn’t think the moment would weigh so heavily on him but unless he was completely delusional, he was certain you’d stared at his dick until he’d turned around, not even bothering to look away (the same exact thing he’d done to your ass about ten minutes before). Did it mean something or was it just the shock? There was no easy way to get an answer and he hated that the most about this, about all of this romance crap.

The wind is knocked out of you when you see Tenma in the airport, walking towards you and Sakuya (one of the only free members who happily wanted to accompany you to get his fellow troupe leader) with his sunglasses and hat pulled down over his face. He somehow managed to keep growing even over such a short period of time, looking taller, more mature, more put-together… You realized you’re staring at him too long after he’s greeted you without saying anything in return and you forced a smile to your face.

“H-Hey there, hope that time with all the big wigs can help our play shine!”

“You know I always do my best.” His response was awkward but so was your previous statement so you can’t blame him. The walk back to the car is thankfully silent as it’s clear Tenma is quite exhausted and you wondered if he’d just fall asleep on the ride back, leaving even less room for you to make a fool of yourself.

“You really do seem more mature, Tenma,” You offered up another observation as he packed his bags into the back of the car. As much as you didn’t want to make yourself look stupid you had missed him dearly, those weekly phone calls not being enough to satisfy you. You used to talk to him every day, at least getting to see his face even if he was busy, but being overseas and filming left him too busy to keep that same routine. You understood why and you didn’t blame him but now that he was finally in front of you, you couldn’t just pass up the opportunity to talk or tease him like you used to.

“Ah, thanks…” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, looking away from you, “You… don’t feel like you’ve changed at all.”

“What does that mean?”

“I-It’s not a bad thing.”

‘It’s like coming home,’ Tenma thought with a smile, ‘I am coming home, I guess…’

“You guys must’ve really missed each other, huh?” Sakuya laughed from the back seat as you and Tenma entered the car. “We all missed you but not as much as she did! Whenever we were having trouble figuring out a scene, she’d always say ‘I wish Tenma was here’ or something like that!”

Sakuya, as innocent as he was, was absolutely killing you right now.

“Do you have any stories about being on set? Ooh, what about the places you visited while you were away?” Sakuya interrupted the growing tension, leaning forward into the front seat and looking at Tenma curiously. He might’ve just put you out there but he’d saved you just as quick, successfully distracting Tenma who seemed more than happy to tell Sakuya of all the things he experienced while he was away. You listened in while you drove, enjoying both the sound of his voice and the content of his stories, pleased even more to hear that none of his time was spent with other women.

The dorm was buzzing with energy when Tenma finally arrived.

“Summon the troops up front Muku, a celebrity has finally arrived!”

Tenma smiled weakly at  your attempt at humor but there was still come clear tension left over, something he was quick to blame on jet lag. Why did seeing you again in person leave him breathless? Why did his heart ache even though you were right there in front of him, arm’s length away? The distance had done nothing to placate his feelings, perhaps making it even worse, and he finds himself selfishly wishing he could just have you all to himself for a night.

He’d missed everyone at Mankai without a doubt but you were a special case.

Tenma is bombarded with questions, he’s given gifts and poems and all sorts of things that the others had made for him while he was gone or to welcome him home. He’d never felt more loved in his life and as he accepted these gifts, cheeks red from embarrassment while he also made sure to thank each person who gave an offering, he noticed your were absent from the general hubbub. While Kazunari is rambling on about something or other Tenma scanned the area, eyes landing on the kitchen once he noticed it was where you were. You were casually talking with Omi, something that wasn’t exactly unusual, but today he was just off. Seeing you with Omi made him feel this bitter jealousy towards him, this irritation welling up until it clearly showed on his face.

“You okay?” Kazunari asked, head tilted in confusion.

“He’s probably tired from the trip,” Azuma offered up helpfully, and despite Tenma generally being on edge whenever the silver-haired man was around him, he felt relieved that he didn’t have to come up with an excuse himself. “Why don’t you head to your room to unpack and relax until dinner? One of us will fetch you when everything’s done I’m sure.”

Was being alone with his thoughts really what he needed right now?

Tenma discovered that it was in fact not what he needed or what he wanted, unable to get the image of Omi’s hand on your arm out of his head; it was as if he was being mocked, as if the universe was telling him ‘you missed your chance, buddy’. He wondered how close the two of you had gotten, wondered if you shared any longing looks or if you’d spent a night together and the relationship took off from there, all the things that he wanted to do with you but never got to because his damn pride always got in his way. The feelings of jealousy started to bubble over until he felt genuinely angry over something he knew he had no right to be upset about, pacing in his room, wanting dinner to just be over with so he could come back and brood some more.

Tenma knew something had to be done about his feelings for you.

Being himself wasn’t working, he kept overthinking his words, stumbling over them, not wanting to look as pathetic as he felt. So what if he pretended to be someone else? When he was in character he didn’t get overwhelmed by feelings, when he was in character he kept it together no matter how beautiful the actress acting opposite to him was, so maybe the solution had been dangling in front of his face this entire time. He doesn’t know when he’ll have the chance to enact this plan but the seed had been planted in his brain and he couldn’t get it out of his head. He had to confess to you even if it killed him, even if you rejected him and never looked at him in the same light again.

He had to let you know how he felt.

Practice began the next day and despite being told he could be a bit late, he insisted on being right on time. He had gotten plenty of rest and he was ready to get back to business, with acting being the one thing that always managed to distract him from his feelings. Being with the others again gave him his energy back and he started off the day ready to conquer, flipping through the script Tsuzuru had just barely managed to get into their hands before passing out on the ground. There were plenty of interesting themes, some redemption, two twin flames reuniting, the dialogue really speaking to Tenma’s spark for both drama and comedy. He’s assigned the lead role even as he protested it should go to someone like Misumi or Kazunari who fit the lead character far more but the group was just as stubborn as he was and with a sigh, he accepted that things were getting right back to business as usual.

Tenma was totally in his element, he was more than competent enough to take on the lead role in a stage play, so then why was he constantly obliterating his lines? He stuttered in the first read through, he forget to respond a few times (he was too busy looking at you as you read over the script, looking extra cute as you concentrated), he was thinking about his own confession monologue he’d started to plot out, he was just entirely distracted. And he couldn’t just push it down like he normally did, it kept rising to the top of his thoughts and it was truly beginning to screw him over. He can see the others are getting agitated but are unwilling to call him out, likely just blaming it on him not being used to being around them again, but it was so much more than that. With a frustrated wave of his hand Tenma dismissed himself from the practice.

“W-Where are you going?”

��I’m going to practice alone. I’ll… be back.” Tenma left the room in a hurry but just as he predicted you followed, reaching out to grab his arm and stop him from storming away so quickly. It made his heart jump in his chest, made him shiver at how warm your hand felt against his arm and he had to use all the self-control he had left not to pin you to the wall so he could crush his lips against yours.

“What’s wrong, Tenma? You can’t close yourself off like this. You know you need to talk it out!”

“I was supposed to come back with more experience to make this play a success and now all I can do it… Well, nothing! It feels like I’m back at square one again,” Tenma couldn’t help but be at least partially honest with his feelings, making sure to leave out the fact you were driving him absolutely crazy by just being this close to him. The kind, concerned look on your face squeezed his heart like a vice and when you squeezed his arm reassuringly he thought he might die then and there.

“I can see you need a reminder of the fact that I’m here for you and so is the rest of your troupe! You’ve grown up so much but you can’t just keep bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders without letting us in on how you’re feeling. If you know what’s wrong and it’s a problem you can solve then let us know! And even if we can’t solve it just tell us what it is! It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“You have no idea,” Tenma sighed, trying to subtly move his arm out of your grip. “…Can we go down to the theatre?”

“You missed it that much?” You tried to joke but Tenma was looking a little too serious for you to not feel nervous, simply nodding his head and beginning to walk without your confirmation. You’re worried about what might come next but you’d rather snuff the problem out sooner rather than later; you dipped your head back into the practice room to let the others know they could continue to read their lines and that you’d be back with Tenma soon, not noticing the looks they all exchanged.

Tenma is standing center stage when you find him, pacing back and forth, looking just as pensive as he had when you’d left him. He doesn’t even notice you’re there leaving you a moment to admire his handsome face, a handsome face you’d grown fond of and had missed dearly while he was gone. Seeing him at the airport had made you just want to wrap your arms around him and tell him he was never allowed to leave you like that again, that living daily life without him had just made things feel ‘off’, but you knew you could never say something so selfish. It wasn’t as though the two of you were even dating so what right did you have to even think those things about him? Ever since you’d walked in on him masturbating you’d seen him in an entirely different life, recognizing him not just as a troupe member but as a man, too.

The change left you uncomfortable, with feelings you didn’t know how to handle.

“No one else has ever encouraged me and believed in me like you have,” Tenma began to speak as you walked closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away from him. “My parents want me to go back to daytime drama full time.”

“You know how I feel about your father so let’s not get into that…” Tenma smiled at the memory, never forgetting what it was like to have you so focused on him and doting over his wounds; it was the first time he ever realized he was in love with you, his strong romantic feelings for you truly coming to a head as you expressed your compassion. He was beginning to realize even more how he felt, that it wasn’t simply admiration but true love that he felt for you. You were someone he would be perfectly comfortable calling his soulmate, someone he could easily spend the rest of his life with and never regret it not matter how tough things got. If he was going to put it all on the table and finally address the elephant in the room, now was the time to do it, now when he was feeling so reassured that he’d be able to get his feelings across to you.

You joined him on stage, looking out at the empty seats before glancing over at him again as he began to talk.

“Can I act this thing out for you that I’ve been thinking about for a while?”

“Sure. Are you gonna be our new scriptwriter, too?” You teased.

“Not a chance. Just… give me a sec.” Tenma took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair, his nervous energy infecting you as well.

“Y-You remember I’m not really a great actress, right? You didn’t forget that while you were gone?”

“I didn’t forget anything about you. I didn’t ask you to act so just… listen, alright?”

Another deep breath and you saw a switch flip in him, his face and shoulders growing more relaxed as he looked at you.

“The day that we met we fought like cats and dogs. I never thought the two of us would ever get along, never thought that I could ever see the positives or care about a person who only seemed to kick me when I was down. But I realized it was all about perspective. You weren’t kicking me but you were offering your hand, willing to help me figure out what I really needed to. I’ve dated other girls but none of them have ever held a candle to you. I started to realize they were never good enough because they were never you.”

That’s your name that he’s saying and it’s your hands he’s now holding, looking deep into your eyes with a penetrating gaze that left you feeling weak in the knees. You had suspected something was up at first but there was no way for you to refute it now, Tenma was without a doubt confessing feelings that you never knew he had. You have to applaud the bravery but the butterflies in your stomach are making you feel restless, the close proximity with the orange-haired man not helping you untangle the many thoughts you were having. How did you feel about Tenma? He’d managed to so eloquently sum up your relationship and how deeply he felt for you and yet you were still stumbling around in your own head trying to find the proper way to respond.

There’s one moment over these last few months that really stood out to you, the one night you’d been holed up with a few other Mankai members watching an interview Tenma was involved with. You’d seen that romance was one of the topic of discussions and suddenly found yourself even more interested, waiting with bated breath as the question of Tenma’s relationship status is questioned; he scoffed, blushed, and brushed off the question as being an unimportant one, completely irrelevant to the movie he was about to star in. But the interviewer was rather insistent on getting an answer, pressuring poor Tenma into at least giving him a bread crumb.

“I like someone but her and I aren’t together.”

You released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, receiving a knowing look from Banri who didn’t offer up anything snarky at the moment, turning back to watch the rest of the interview while you tried to calm your racing heart. That didn’t mean anything, right? He could like the actress he was on the job with, or any other number of women he interacted with on the daily, it didn’t mean he was talking about you but… Part of you hoped it was about you. You’d seen the way he looked at you before, you’d heard about the things he did just to have an excuse to talk to you but you’d always just amounted it to a schoolboy crush. But the Tenma standing before you now wasn’t just some kid, he was a hardworking adult who had matured over the years and who was confessing that his heart belonged to you.

You’re not an actor, you can’t come up with some dramatic dialogue with perfect metaphors for the love you felt for Tenma, but you were someone who shared his feelings and wanted to let him know that. Tenma went to pull away from you but before his hands can escape your grip you squeezed them, taking a step forward into his personal space, something you had always been careful about not doing before. You looked into his eyes, searching for something, hoping that none of this would turn out to just actually be some fake scene he wanted to act out but with the fondness he’s looking at you with now you knew his feelings had to be true. Or he had to be an even more talented actor than you’d originally thought but you were hoping you weren’t about to make a fool of yourself.

Leaning forward your lips brushed against his and Tenma followed through with your movement, quickly releasing your hands to hold either side of your face. He didn’t want you to pull away until he had his feel, his heart beating so loudly he’s sure you can hear it. This is a moment he’d dreamed of for years and you tasted so much sweeter than he ever expected, your lips ridiculously soft and potentially addicting. He could get lost in the feeling of holding you against him, his lungs beginning to burn from how long it’d been since he’d last took a breath, but he couldn’t find it in him to pull away from you. You seemed to feel the same as you made no move to dismiss him, kissing him back with just as much fervor, your hands grabbing onto his shirt and digging into the soft material to anchor him to you.

When you pulled away you were glad to see the cool guy façade he’d had up during his confession had completely disappeared, a dark blush adorned his face and left him looking even cuter than usual. You’re sure your face matches his in more ways than one but what does it matter now that you had him?

“I want… Please, be my girlfriend?” He’s looking away from you, unable to meet your eyes as though that was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done in front of you. You could bring up the masturbation incident but you figured that’d just ruin the mood.

“I think I can do that.” You leaned in to press a few more kisses to his lips, Tenma deepening them each time you attempted to pull away. Finally you block his lips with your hand, sending him a playful smile. “The others are waiting for us! We need to get back to business or we’ll just spend all day in here…”

“I could live with that.”

“Well I can’t! Now let’s get back and smooth out this performance, lover boy.”

~*~

This was riskier than you’d ever taken it but you missed your boyfriend dearly.

Tenma let out a soft groan as you grinded your lower body against his, dick already fighting with the costume he was wearing in an attempt to reach your warmth which seemed so close yet so far away. You couldn’t help but laugh as he started to strip you of your clothes, shaking your head as that would be too dangerous a thing to do while you were trying to get busy in his make-up trailer. Instead, you lower the top part of the dress (thankfully, it was stretchy as well as flowy) to show off your bare chest and slid your underwear down your leg, stuffing them into his pocket before you started to fumble with the zipper.

Tenma cursed as you released his dick from its prison, straddling his lap once more and using his shoulders to slowly lower yourself onto him. You both gasped at the same time, Tenma’s head falling back and brushing against the side of the trailer as he squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself not to come quite yet. He knew it had to move quick as he didn’t know when someone would fetch him for his next scene but he had to savor how wonderful it felt to be inside you, how gorgeous you looked bouncing on his cock, your chest in his face as his hands reached around to grip at your ass. All he can think about is how sexy you are, how lucky he is to see you like this, groaning into your chest before he caught one of your nipples in his mouth. Your moan of approval only fuels him further, with Tenma taking control from under you by thrusting up and changing the rhythm entirely. He’s a bit rougher and more aggressive, hips angling to find that sweet spot inside you, tongue still toying with your hardened nipple when it all comes crashing down around him.

A knock on the trailer door caused you to jump off his lap instantly, his dick aching from the loss of contact even if his brain knew he had to scramble to get it together. He pushed you out of view of the door as he fixed himself, taking a quick glance in the mirror and hastily fixing himself before he opened said door. You did your best to stay out sight, fixing yourself just in case the assistant found their way inside and listening to the conversation your boyfriend was having. He was being rather curt but it was clear he was annoyed at being interrupted, and the only thing you get from him is an apologetic look before he leaves the trailer to go back to set.

You waited a few more minutes until things were truly quiet to get moving, sneaking your way from the trailer and seeing yourself out of the studio without further interruption. You wonder how frightened Tenma was about all of that, trying to think of what might hurt his reputation more; discovering that he was dating his director or them assuming you were just some random girl he’d called into his trailer to have sex with. Neither option seemed to be positive but… You and Tenma hadn’t talked much about the secretive nature of your relationship lately. You’d just recently overcome an issue in the relationship but it seemed like a new one was always willing to pop up when you least expected it. You tried to push this to the back of your mind, knowing Tenma wasn’t ashamed of you and that he did truly love you, but you still had to wonder if he ever thought about what would happen if the two of you really did get caught.

Surprisingly, you’re not the one to bring up the topic.

“I was asked if I had a girlfriend today.” Tenma had been showing clear signs of agitation, playing with the food on his plate instead of eating it. You had been patiently waiting for him to open up knowing if you approached the topic without him being the first one to speak he’d just close himself off and you might never know what was on his mind.

“What did you say?”

“I said… I said that I did.” Tenma looked in your eyes, searching for any sign of emotion; you simply looked surprised but that didn’t tell him if it was a happy surprised or a disappointed one.

He had thought making your relationship a secret was just as beneficial for you as it was him, in fact, he had done this entirely for you. Dating a celebrity was an entirely different world, even if you knew the real him and he wouldn’t suddenly change into a different person having the world prying into your romance might not have made things go as smoothly as they had been. The relationship had bumps in the road but things had always managed to work out, but would that have the same outcome if the tabloids and paparazzi were involved? Would you have been as willing to be patient with him? Would you even find any pleasure in being with him if your relationship was in the public eye? These questions scared him. He knew he should’ve been honest about it from the start but in the end, he continued to run from his feelings and even ignore the fact they existed.

But Tenma had to stop running.

He was tired.

He didn’t want to run anymore.

“We’ve almost been together a year now and I want to… I want to be able to post a picture of us. I want to make an annoying post like all those celebrities who think they have better love lives than the rest of us and I want people to be jealous that I have you all to myself. I know I’m the one who wanted us to be secret but I…” Tenma’s fingers tapped nervously against the table, his plate of food fully pushed away as you quietly listened to him. “I don’t want us to be a secret anymore. I hate hiding things from everyone. I hate not being able to hold your hand in public. When we go places together I don’t want to have to be paranoid anymore. You understand how I feel, don’t you?”

“Of course I understand. Don’t you think I want the same things you do?” You stood up from your place across the table, circling around it to stand behind Tenma who’s shoulders were sagging. You could tell this was something he’d thought about more than he let on and if you were being honest, you were proud of him for managing to speak so honestly about his feelings with you. It was hard for him to articulate exactly how he felt much of the time but he’d managed to get his feelings across to you perfectly. “I don’t want to be a secret anymore either, handsome.”

Tenma leaned back into your arms as you hugged him from behind, your chin resting comfortably on his head.

“I’ll post about it then. On our anniversary.”

“I look forward to seeing what the sappy movie star has to say about me!”

You were not at all disappointed to see the post on Instablam the following week, nor were you surprised at the responses it received from some of your Mankai friends. Kazunari posted ‘KNEW IT’ with approximately a million exclamation points, Muku posted a heart emoji, Itaru posted ‘grats’, and you’re sure there are many others buried among the comments from his fans who were both disappointed and excited to see the star they loved in a happy relationship. He had warned you not to get too lost in the comments so you didn’t linger long, re-reading his post over and over again and smiling at the fact he chose to post the very first selfie you’d ever taken together. He might say he’s not good at being romantic but you knew he was a natural when he learned to just listen to what his heart told him.

There might still be many trials and tribulations for the two of you to overcome the longer you were together but you were happy, happier than you’d ever been, and you knew every bit of trouble was worth it.

[evangelinedanvers]

A Happier Season Part I/?

part 2

Abby chewed on her lip as she looked across the kitchen table at her girlfriend. She’d done so so often that now her lips were chapped, dry and prone to bleeding. Despite her worry, she had kept silent. Whatever was bothering Harper, she would tell her in her own time. 

The silence was palpable. Things hadn’t been right since they had both moved to be closer to Harper’s family.  Abby could tell something was wrong. Harper was definitely keeping something from her. She lowered her head. She really didn’t want to ask, but they couldn’t carry on in the denial that everything was fine. She couldn’t keep lying to herself. Harper would never be ready without a little pushing. With a heavy sigh, she lifted her head so that she could look into her fiance’s eyes. “Harper, what’s wrong? You’ve been distant ever since we moved. When you do talk I just feel like you’re mad at me. I’ve gone over and over in my mind and I can’t think of anything I could have done.”

For a moment, Harper’s eyes widened, but she soon recovered a calmer expression. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” Her quick, clipped response suggested otherwise.

“Oh. Okay.” Abby shrugged, although she wasn’t about to just let the matter slide. The lie was disappointing. Every problem they had in their relationship had stemmed from Harper being too afraid to be honest. Her spoon, which had been gripped tightly in her fingers, clattered against the table. Breakfast had suddenly become very unappetising.  “I mean, I thought we’d learned a lesson around pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.” She shrugged again before mumbling, “If you think that’s best though, whatever.”

Harper’s brow furrowed. Abby felt soft, searching, eyes imploring her to let it go. Harper grabbed the edge of the table as it became clear that Abby wasn’t budging. Her grip made the tension she was feeling apparent. She couldn’t quite meet Abby’s eyes as she rushed out the thing that had been bothering her. “I don’t like that you’re spending so much time with Riley.”

Abby laughed, although it was quiet and full of sarcasm. “Excuse me. What?”

“We moved so that I could spend more time with my parents and sisters. Not so that you could spend more time with Riley.”

“So, what, I’m not allowed to have friends?” Abby shook her head. She’d been able to forgive a lot; able to understand some of Harper’s choices. However, controlling behaviour was something she would never tolerate. “What do you want me to do when you’re busy writing?”

Harper rolled her eyes. “You’re allowed to have friends, Abby. You just don’t need to be friends with my ex.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool. I get it. I’ll just go make some guy friends. Oh,” Abby paused, a finger in the air, as though a thought was only just occurring to her. “No, wait. You probably still fucked them too.”

Harper was silent, her lips parted slightly. The words had hurt her. It wasn’t a fair thing for Abby to say, and she knew that.

“Sorry.” Abby stood, getting ready to walk away from the argument. She knew she’d gone too far and didn’t want to make things any worse. “That wasn’t..” Embarrassed, she awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is that,” for a moment Harper buried her face in her hands, looking embarrassed by what she was about to say. “Riley likes you, okay? I feel like a teenager again even caring about that. Which is why I hadn’t said anything.”

“What? No,” Abby shook her head as a blush crept onto her face. “You’re wrong. Besides, I’m not, it doesn’t go both ways. I love you.”

“So, we agree?”

“Oh, no. No, we do not agree. Riley is literally my only friend here. Everyone else still thinks I’m a common criminal. Plus you’re my girlfriend, not my mom.” 

“Abby, I...please?”

“If you can’t trust me,” Abby twisted her engagement ring from her finger and threw it down onto the table. “Maybe we shouldn’t be getting married.”

“Yeah,” Harper nodded, despite the tears that had begun to slowly trickle down her cheeks. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Hey,” Abby said softly. She’d never meant for that to happen. She’d never meant to make Harper cry. She was about to go to her, wipe her tears away with her thumb and tell her that she loved her and everything would be okay. She stopped herself, though. She couldn’t keep giving in every time Harper cried. “I’m going out.”

“Abby, wait. This is stupid. Please, just,” she picked up Abby’s ring and held it out to her. “At least put this back on. Please?”

“No. I’m done. I’m out.”

Riley hadn’t been expecting Abby to call her, but she certainly hadn’t been disappointed when her name flashed up on her screen. A few minutes later and she was sitting across from her in their usual haunt. Her eyes narrowed as she observed a tense Abby, who gripped her coffee mug so tightly that Riley was afraid it might shatter. Her red eyes also alerted Riley to the fact that Abby had been crying.

“I think this is probably a really stupid question,” Riley said as she dropped a cube of sugar into her black coffee and gave it a stir. She needed to do something with her hands. Anything to distract. Anything to stop her from grabbing Abby’s hands and telling her that whatever it was, it was okay. Whatever it was, she would fix it. No. She had to stay calm.  “Because the answer is very clearly no, but are you okay?”

Abby shook her head. “I think I just ended things with Harper,” she mumbled. 

“What?” Riley spluttered as she stopped stirring her coffee, although her fingers still gripped the spoon. “Why?” 

“Things have been off between us since we moved.” Abby shrugged. She looked tired. To Riley, she looked like someone who had simply given up. “Today I finally asked what’s going on and she insisted that I cut contact with you because apparently you like me. Which is obviously crazy.”

“Oh,” Riley nodded. “Yeah, totally. Totally crazy. Harper is just insane in the brain, alright.” She smiled, although it was really more of a grimace than a smile.

Abby nodded, then twisted her fingers together, something Riley had noticed she did a lot when anxious. “Do you forgive Harper?” Abby questioned, out of the blue. “For, you know, outing you to protect herself?”

Riley’s answer was immediate. “Yes. Absolutely. She was a teenager and she was scared. And, honestly? If it had been the other way around I don’t think I could say I wouldn’t have done the same. I’m gonna guess you don’t? For lying to you about her family, I mean.” “You wouldn’t have. I’m not sure whether I do or not. I thought I did.”

Riley chuckled. It was nice that Abby thought so much of her, but she had definitely grown a lot since her teenage years. Really, it was a shame that she found herself unable to say the same of Harper. “That’s nice that you think that, but you didn’t know me then.” She sighed. She was in a fight with herself, struggling to make sure that her words held no bias. “This is probably a super biased opinion, but how Harper treated you was wrong. She’s an adult now. To force you back into the closet without a word of warning was absolutely not okay. She had reasons, but reasons are not free passes to treat people you care about like crap. If you’re struggling to forgive her for that, it’s valid. You’re valid.”

“I thought I was over it,” Abby said slowly, obviously still processing how she felt, “but she still keeps things from me. I don’t think I can be with someone who won’t talk to me unless I force the point. That’s not how I roll.”

Riley nodded. Her expression was neutral, but then for a moment her brow furrowed, betraying the consternation that the conversation caused. “Abby, I don’t think I’m the best person for you to talk to about this.”

Abby didn’t speak, but raised her eyebrows, waiting for further explanation.

“Harper isn’t wrong.”

“Oh,” Abby said softly. “That complicates things”

“No, it doesn’t,” She blurted out, desperate not to lose Abby’s friendship.  “I can see how much you love Harper, I would never come between you two. I just can’t promise that any advice I give you isn’t tainted.”

“Oh, yeah. No, I get that. Fuck.” Abby rested her forehead in the palm of her hand.

“You good?”

Abby shook her head

“Do you need me to go?” “No. It’s just, you’re really the only friend I have here and, really, are you gonna wanna stick around to be just my friend?”

“Hey, hey.” she leaned across the table and grabbed Abby’s arm, gently pulling her hand away from her head, “Look at me. Yes, I am attracted to you. I am not, however, about to go home and start writing poetry about how heartbreaking it is to see you with another woman. Chill out.”

“Okay.” Abby chewed on her lip. “But what if I said it’s a mutual attraction. What if I said right now I want to, i don’t know, take you out to dinner right now. Wine, dine and sixty-nine.”

Riley had chosen an in opportune moment to take a sip of her coffee, and found herself choking on it a little as she heard Abby’s comment. “First of all, there will be no sixty-nining ever. Secondly, if that’s the best pick-up line you have, I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Thirdly, no.”

“No?” Riley was sure that she heard disappointment in Abby’s voice, but it didn’t matter. 

“I actually value our friendship. Tomorrow you’d wake up, realise how much you love Harper and hate me for ever allowing you to jeopardize what you have with her. You’re not thinking clearly right now and I’m not taking advantage of that.” It was tempting though. So tempting.

“I was only kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.” Riley shook her head. “You’re angry and you’re looking for ways to act out. I am not that desperate.”

Abby shook her head “Maybe you’re half right, but I wouldn’t ever just use you. I do, uh. I am attracted to you.”

“Yeah? Who isn’t?” Riley asked, followed by a smirk.

“Straight women?” “Wrong.” Again, the smirk.

Abby smiled for the first time during the whole conversation. Riley wasn’t too sure whether Abby believed her or not, but it was nice to have an air of mystery.

“Hey, Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“While the sixty-nine is a hard no, I’m not opposed to wine, dine and supine. If things with you and Harper really don’t work out.” She was smiling, but her face fell as she realised Abby wasn’t wearing her ring. It had been nice to pretend for a moment, to tease. However, the missing ring made everything feel very real. “Abby, where’s your ring?”

“I was mad. I took it off when we were fighting.” She shrugged. “It was stupid.”

“Please don’t throw everything away over something so stupid. Don’t fight over me. I’m really, really not worth it.” Riley grabbed up her bag and rose quickly “I, I have to go. But call me, okay? Let me know,” her voice broke, but she cleared her throat and regained her composure, “let me know how things go.”

Riley felt like she couldn’t catch a breath as she left the cafeteria, moving as fast as she could. Once outside, she leaned against the wall of the place, trying to ground herself, trying to slow down her breathing. She tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

 For so long she’s refused to allow herself to be vulnerable. The way in which Harper had forced her to come out had left her unable to ever really trust anyone to allow for anything more than a one night stand. She didn’t let people in; she didn’t let people have the chance to stab her in the back. With Abby, she had a strong sense that she was going to end up hurt and it wouldn’t even be Abby’s fault. A happy ending in any capacity wasn’t on the horizon. She knew that. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to just walk away. As stupid as it might be, she felt a need to see their friendship through to it’s bloody end.

[foodbytesback]

A Millenial's Guide to Dinner Parties

Ok, sorry.  I didn’t have time to write anything real  for this week, because I was too busy planning a dinner party.  But uhhh that counts as a food-related topic, so I’m just gonna write about that. 

You may be asking “just how much “planning” do you need?” The answer? Much.  

I feel like I never understood how “we’ve been planning this dinner for months!” made any sense as a sitcom throwaway line, until I tried to plan a dinner between myself and 3 other adults- 1 who just started a second job, 1 who just started grad school, and 1 who lives out of town.  But people who love to say “fail to plan, plan to fail” rarely seem to specify what kind of planning that entails, so let me break down my approach (or, in some cases, things I learned in light of my approach) so that you too can funnel your anxiety into worrying about all the right things.

Consider your living space

Since I knew 2 of those 3 really like Indian food, I decided I’d base the menu around that.  Incidentally, this ended up having one major benefit that I would recommend keeping in mind: if you, like me, don’t have a proper dining room table, don’t serve anything that would require a fork and knife.  If you’re gonna be eating on the couch (Or, if you have a studio that doesn’t have room for a couch, bed? Floor? Getting imaginative about how to host people in a studio is its own challenge), you should consider serving something that can easily be eaten one-handed while balancing the plate in your lap.  Besides curries, I would also recommend tacos (or any kind of finger-food), stir-frys or any sort of braise/stew, although a soup that’s too thin is just asking to be spilled.

Cook as much as you can ahead of time

The day of the event, you’re really gonna want to make sure all your mise en place is… uh, en place.  It’s a given that dishes that are a multi-day process (like the bread dough for the naan) are going to be done well beforehand, but you really will be better off taking care of as much of the things that could be dismissed as doable the day of as you can the night before (or the day before that, depending on your schedule, if your produce is fresh it will survive a couple of days chopped).  For me, this meant dividing up the bread dough into smaller, individual portions, pre-cutting anything that needed to be cut (which luckily ended up being just onions, garlic, one serrano pepper, paneer, and chicken), marinating the chicken, and making the sauce for the chicken tikka masala.

You may have noticed that one of those containers used to be soup.  Or that the pepper’s in a ziplock bag.  Yes. Listen: I don’t work for Food Network, I don’t have hundreds of those little bowls lying around.  I didn’t even have lids for most of those deli containers.  I can only steal so much from work before it becomes noticeable.  If you’re only making one thing, feel free to combine ingredients that get added in at the same time in the recipe together in one container.  I ended up keeping most of mine separated out like this because I needed garlic for pretty much everything, so it made sense to just have one big thing of garlic, etc.  Honestly, you should just have one big thing of garlic on hand at all times, dinner party or not. 

Even with all that prep, it still took me close to 2 hours to cook the chicken, add it to the sauce that I had dumped into a crock pot for reheating, put the rice on, make the 2 paneer dishes (for clarity: saag paneer and a weird dish one of my friends mentioned liking that doesn't’ seem to have any actual basis in Indian cuisine that’s just paneer sauteed with onions and cumin seeds) and bake off several naan.  Which leads me to my next point...

Provide entertainment that doesn’t involve you

Yes, the whole point is that you want to spend time with your friends. But, unless you’re making something like dumplings, where you can easily enlist your friends to help you, you’re gonna be alone in the kitchen while your friends hang out without you.  In this case, they played WarioWare on my Switch and played/made fun of this weird foodie trivia game that I had never even bothered to unwrap from its protective plastic that focussed way too much on Julia Child-era cooking shows, wine varietals, and antiquated edicate, all while I listened from the kitchen.  Because my apartment is pretty small, “from the kitchen” means about 5 feet away, so it’s not like I was really feeling that left out.  I was able to break away from cooking every-other question or so to shoot someone a judgemental glare any time they couldn’t get an answer that I assumed was somewhat-common knowledge right. I should also mention that if you know it’s gonna take a while to cook everything, put out some sort of snack, too.  I hadn’t thought about this, and ended up throwing a box of pumpkin spice Twinkies at them.  

I guess this can be avoided by just having them come when the food is ready. I guess. 

Clean as you go

This is pretty much true for any time you cook something, but seriously, the dishes really start to pile up when you’re cooking larger quantities.  This goes double for things like tasting spoons, which I’m normally fine with reusing when I’m cooking for myself, but I will NOT subject my guests to double-dipping.   And take my word for it, you’re gonna want to go into the actual serving of dinner with an empty sink, because after everyone’s left you’ll turn around and be caught completely off-guard by how many dishes have to be done.  

Have fun and be yourself

No, really.  If your friends are anything like my friends, they’ll just be happy to see that one friend from out of town again or at the very least get a free meal.   Like, despite (or because of?) my obsessive planning, when the time came to actually start cooking I felt no pressure to have to go at my usual breakneck line cook pace, because my friends were there to have a fun little evening, and that’s exactly what I gave them.

[thecassadilla]

Thankful

Pairing: Kristanna

Word Count: 3,202/AO3

Summary: Anna and Kristoff have some special news to share with their family at Thanksgiving - though, the idea of sharing it brings forth some anxiety on Anna's behalf.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is my contribution for Kristanna Week Day 2 - Orange! Funny story about this one - it came to me in a dream. Literally. I was having a really difficult time coming up with an idea for this prompt and then two weeks ago, I had a really vivid dream that involved Anna and Kristoff talking in their kitchen and preparing for Thanksgiving. Long story short, I was really giddy when I woke up because my subconscious brain did all of the thinking for me (except actually write the fic - when I figure out how to do that I’ll let you know lol). Enjoy!!!

“Okay, okay, okay,” Anna started, running her fingers through her hair. “We have one hour before everyone gets here.”

“Please calm down,” Kristoff begged. 

“I can’t help being nervous. The real question is, how are you not nervous?”

“I’m more nervous about the possibility of you breaking your ankles in those heels - why are you wearing them in the house?”

“I want to look nice.”

“You look great,” he assured her. 

“But you can tell? It’s obvious?”

“No I can’t tell. Your outfit does a great job of hiding it.”

Wearing a billowy top tucked into low-waisted pants seemed to have done the trick, just like the Internet said it would. Her hand fluttered to her abdomen and she looked down. “I can tell.”

He chuckled. “Because it’s your body. Of course you can tell.”

“My boobs,” she said suddenly. “They’re going to notice that my boobs are huge.”

“That would be a strange thing to talk about over Thanksgiving dinner.”

“They don’t have to talk about it, they just have to notice. And they’re going to notice when I’m not drinking, either.”

“I thought we were going to tell them today.”

“We could,” she faltered. “Or we could wait until Christmas.”

“You want to wait another four weeks?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

His face softened. “If that’s what you want, then we can wait.”

“I want to tell them, but I’m nervous. There’s really no harm in waiting, right?”

“Well, you’re already thirteen weeks. Fourteen weeks on Sunday. And the doctor said everything looked great last week. But if you really want to wait another month…”

She shook her head and exhaled. “You’re right, we should tell them today.”

“If you want, I’ll be the one to tell them. You can sit there and smile and hold my hand and you won’t have to say a word until they start congratulating us and asking questions.”

“Do you think I should be the one to tell them? You know, because I’m the pregnant one.”

“Whatever you want, Anna. We can do this however you want to.”

“We should probably start by taking the ultrasound pictures off of the fridge,” she said, rushing over to the fridge and pulling the pictures off. “Why did we decide to host Thanksgiving, again?”

“It was your idea,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “You wanted to show off the house.”

“Oh. Right.” She looked down at the pictures of their baby and smiled before holding them out to him. “Here, hide these somewhere.”

He took them. “I’m not going to hide them. Your sister will want to see them.”

“You have to put them somewhere for now. Unless that’s how you want to tell them - by thrusting pictures into their hands and saying ‘surprise, here’s a picture of the baby that’s going to come catapulting out of my wife in six months.’”

“You,” he said, wagging his finger at her and standing up, “are a very funny lady. I will put these in the dining room, where no one can see them, so that way when the time comes I can pull them out and show everyone.”

“Okay, and while you’re doing that, I’ll check on the turkey.”

“The turkey won’t be ready for another couple of hours,” he called as he walked toward the dining room.

“Then I’ll check to make sure the table is set.”

“You set it this morning,” he reminded her.

“Well I need something to distract me.”

She walked into the dining room and observed the set table; a cream colored tablecloth rested on the table, and on top of it was an orange runner decorated with beaded leaves. The table was exactly as she’d left it; five plates, five sets of cutlery, five cloth napkins, and five glasses. This time next year, there’d be a high chair. It was surreal to think about.

“I think you came to see where I was putting the pictures,” he teased.

“I didn’t, but where did you put them?”

“In the hutch.”

“What if my sister goes in there?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head. “Your sister is not going to rummage through our hutch.”

“No, but if she wants another plate, she may go in there.”

“Fine,” he said, opening the door and retrieving the pictures. “I will put them on top of the hutch. No one can reach it other than me, and no one has any reason to be looking for something on top of our furniture.”

“Okay,” she agreed with a sigh.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed, gently prodding her back towards the kitchen.

“That feels so good,” she moaned, tilting her head back. “Will you rub my feet later?”

“As you wish,” he promised, giving her one last squeeze before kissing her cheek. He washed his hands before walking over to the stove and turning off one of the burners. “And with those shoes, you’re definitely going to need it.”

“You could say that again.”

He walked over to the sink and drained the water from the pot he was holding, sending a cloud of steam into the air. “I really don’t think you should wear them.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He sighed, placing the pot back on the stove. “I’m going to finish up with the mashed potatoes, do you want to put the rolls in the oven?”

“Sure.”

“I figured we could eat the salad and the rolls first. And then we’ll heat up all of the sides again before we eat the main course.”

“There’s going to be so much food,” she commented, retrieving the baking tray from one of the cabinets and the dough from the refrigerator. 

“At least we’ll have plenty of leftovers.”

She arranged the dough on the tray before sticking it into the over. “When do you think we should tell them? When they first get here?”

“I don’t think we should set a designated time. I think we should just let it happen how it happens.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“And you have to try to act like yourself - they’re going to notice something’s up if you keep acting all...weird.”

“I know,” she said, burying her face in her hands. “I’m nervous and excited and overwhelmed.”

“It’s just Elsa, and Honeymaren, and Ryder. We know them. They’re going to be happy for us. Thrilled,” he assured her. “And frankly, I’m still kind of surprised that you didn’t tell your sister the moment the test came up positive.”

“I wanted to, but I also wanted to wait until we saw the doctor and confirmed that everything looked good. Maybe next time I’ll tell her right away.”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself,” he warned with a chuckle. “How about we focus on the one who’s not even here yet instead of the next one?”

The doorbell rang before she could respond and she froze in place.

“Breathe,” he reminded her. “I’m going to get the door, you try to stay calm.”

“Okay,” she nodded. 

He held out two hands, instructing her to stay, before darting off to answer the door. The house was instantly flooded with voices and before she knew it, they were walking into the kitchen.

“Hi,” she smiled tensely. “I’m so glad you all came.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Honeymaren assured her.

“We brought a bunch of different desserts, and a sweet potato casserole with marshmallows, and green beans,” Elsa said excitedly, setting a bag down on the counter.

“We have just about everything else,” Kristoff chuckled. 

“And we brought wine,” Honeymaren added, patting the bag that was slung over her shoulder. “Lots and lots of wine.”

Anna and Kristoff exchanged a glance before Kristoff spoke up. “Actually we’re actually not drinking tonight, so there will be more for you guys.”

“What? Why?”

“Bet,” Anna answered quickly. “We’re trying to see who can go the longest without drinking alcohol and I am determined to win because the loser has to -”

“La, la la,” Ryder interrupted, placing his hands over his ears. “We don’t have to know what weird, kinky stuff the loser has to do.”

“I was going to say do all of the dishes for a month, but okay.”

“Sorry that my brother doesn’t have any manners,” Honeymaren said, glaring at the younger man. “I’m also sorry that he doesn’t know how to dress for special occasions.”

“I don’t understand why you’re all so dressed up for a holiday that’s about eating,” Ryder remarked. “You aren’t going to look so nice if you spill food on yourself and you’re going to wish that you wore stretchy pants by the end of the night.”

“I doubt any of us are going to spill food on ourselves,” Kristoff pointed out. “We’re all adults here.”

“I know...you’re really starting to look like a dad, man.”

Kristoff burst out laughing. “What on earth does that mean?”

Ryder motioned to his clothes. “I don’t know, you’re, like, wearing dad jeans and a sweater over a button-down. You look like your someone’s father. Or like your wife dressed you.”

“That’s enough,” Honey interrupted, placing a hand over Ryder’s mouth. 

“I’ll show you all to the dining room,” Anna said, changing the subject. “You can sit down and make yourselves comfortable, and we’ll bring in the salad and the rolls.”

She led them to the dining room, and they took their seats. Kristoff brought in as much as he could carry, setting it down on the table and then going back for more. 

“Help yourselves,” Anna insisted, returning to the kitchen for one last moment of solace. She placed a hand over her tiny belly, hoping that it would reassure the baby as much as it reassured herself. 

When she finally sat down a few minutes later, she was immediately overcome by an obnoxious odor, though she couldn’t place what the scent was. After a few more breaths, she realized that it was the vinaigrette that dressed the salad, which happened to be placed right in front of her on the table. Her nose was sensitive from the hormones and she knew that if she was forced to continue breathing the scent in, she would be very sick. She swallowed, attempting to breathe through her mouth so the smell of the vinaigrette wouldn’t upset her stomach any further. 

Elsa raised a concerned eyebrow. “Anna, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” she answered shakily before abruptly standing up. “I’m just going to go check on the turkey.”

Three pairs of eyes watched as she practically ran from the dining room, before diverting their attention to Kristoff. “I’ll, uh, go make sure she’s okay.”

He found Anna standing over the sink, her hand clamped firmly over her mouth. 

“What’s the matter?” he whispered, glancing back to make sure that no one else had followed them into the kitchen.

“You have to move that salad away from me. The smell is making me sick.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “When we go back in there, I’ll move it.”

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, the nausea slowly but surely fading away. “I really should check on the turkey while I’m in here.”

“Take your time, there’s no need to rush.”

After a few more moments of controlled breathing, the nausea passed. She opened the oven, a burst of warm air hitting her in the face as she peered inside. “Oh, the timer thing popped out. I should take it out.”

She grabbed two oven mitts and leaned down to remove the pan from the oven, but Kristoff stopped her. “You shouldn’t be lifting something that heavy.”

“It’s not heavy at all.”

“Let me do it, please.”

“Fine,” she groaned, sliding the mitts off of her hands and thrusting them at him. 

He slid the pan out and placed it on the trivet that was laying on the counter. “We have to let it rest for a while before we can start carving it. Do you feel well enough to go back inside?”

“Yes,” she answered, taking one last deep breath. 

“Turkey’s done,” Kristoff announced to their guests when they returned. Said guests were staring at the couple with anticipatory eyes. “Is everyone done with the salad?”

A chorus of yes’s rang out, and Kristoff removed the dish from the table completely, bringing it back to the kitchen. Anna breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down, grateful that the smell had dissipated from the room.

“Are you okay?” Elsa asked again.

“Me? I’m fantastic,” Anna answered, an unconvincing laugh escaping from her throat.

“It’s just that you looked a little...unwell.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I swear, I’m fine.”

Elsa exchanged a sidelong glance with Honeymaren, but the conversation was dropped. The rest of the meal was spent discussing current events and shopping plans as opposed to Anna’s health. She mostly stood quiet, holding Kristoff’s hand under the table and allowing the gathering to happen around her as opposed to being a part of it.

“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet, Anna,” Honeymaren remarked with a smile.

“Hmm?” she hummed, her head snapping up. “Oh, sorry. I must’ve been daydreaming. What did I miss?”

“We were just talking about the trip Elsa and I went on to Alaska.”

“Oh right! How was that?”

“It was great,” Elsa piped up in a strained voice, and it became clear to Anna that she had missed the entire Alaska discussion. “We went to the Aurora Ice Museum, and the Running Reindeer Ranch, and we got to see the Aurora Borealis. It was a lovely trip.”

“That sounds really nice,” Anna smiled. 

Kristoff cleared his throat. “How about you all go relax in the living room? Anna and I will get things cleaned up in here and ready for dessert and then we’ll join you.”

“We can help,” Elsa offered. “It’ll be quicker.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “You’re our guests.”

The trio hesitantly stood up, exchanging a few harrowing looks before heading towards the living room. In the meantime, Anna and Kristoff collected all of the dirty dishes and silverware and brought them into the kitchen.

“Just put all of the dishes in the sink,” she directed. “That’s tomorrow’s problem.”

“Have you decided what we’re going to do?”

“About what?”

“The baby,” he whispered. “We’re telling them tonight, right?”

“Oh. Yes?” she said, her voice laced with uncertainty.

He cocked his head. “Anna.”

“What?”

“We have to tell them.”

“You’re right,” she nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“When the time is right, though. It has to come up naturally.”

“Fine,” he agreed. “But if it doesn’t come up naturally, I’m going to spill the beans.”

“Deal.”

They wrapped up their chores in the kitchen, prepared the dining room table for dessert and headed into the living room to join the rest of the group. Ryder had made himself at home in the reclining chair, and Honey and Elsa had claimed part of the sectional to themselves. Anna and Kristoff sat at the opposite end, relaxing into the soft cushions.

“Anna, you’re going to love the dessert we brought,” Honeymaren said. “Chocolate cream pie!”

“Oh, I can’t eat chocolate. It makes me sick,” she responded nonchalantly. She didn’t realize what she’d said until the words had already escaped her lips, instantly growing flustered.

Elsa’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “What? Since when?”

She looked to Kristoff for guidance, and he offered her a small nod of encouragement before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She exhaled deeply before blurting, “I’m pregnant.”

“You are?!” Elsa exclaimed, bringing a shaky hand to cover her mouth. “That’s so wonderful, oh my god.”

“Congratulations,” Honey gushed.

Ryder pointed an accusatory finger at Kristoff. “I knew you were dressing like a dad for a reason!” 

Honey reached over and gently smacked him upside the head. “Ryder, stop being rude.”

“Oh, right. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Anna smiled, all of her anxiety finally melting away. She looked over at Kristoff, who was smiling just as brightly. “Would you mind getting the pictures?”

He nodded, and made his way to the dining room to retrieve the pictures. 

“Can I hug you?” Elsa sniffled, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Of course,” Anna said, standing up. She pulled her older sister into her arms and hugged her tightly.

“I was worrying about you all night. I was convinced that you were really sick and didn’t want to spoil the holiday,” Elsa explained. “But I’m so, so happy for you and Kristoff.”

“Who wants to see the pictures?” Kristoff asked.

“Elsa first,” Honey insisted.

Elsa pulled away from her younger sister and accepted the pictures from her brother-in-law. “Oh my goodness,” she breathed. “How precious. 

“When are you due?” Honeymaren asked.

“Late May,” Anna answered with a smile.

“Are you going to find out the sex?’

“We haven’t decided yet. I want it to be a surprise but she wants to know,” Kristoff said, nudging Anna with his elbow.

“I’m a little impatient,” she giggled. “I really want to know.”

Elsa passed the pictures to Honey, who curled her lip at the sight of them. “Awww.”

“Wow, it actually looks like a baby,” Ryder commented as he peeked over his sister's shoulder to get a glance at the pictures.

“You’re never going to be invited here again,” Honey warned.

“Most importantly, how have you been feeling, Anna?” Elsa asked, ignoring the minor sibling squabble.

“I’ve been really feeling good aside from the morning sickness,” she laughed. “More like all day sickness - I can’t even smell certain things or I get sick. But other than that, I’ve been feeling really good.”

“I’m so happy for both of you,” Elsa said jovially. “I want to know everything.”

“How about we tell you everything over dessert?” Anna suggested. “Chocolate may make me sick, but I still have quite the sweet tooth.”

Elsa nodded, and Anna exchanged a relieved look with Kristoff. His reassuring smile reminded her that he’d been right all along; their family was thrilled and excited, and there had been nothing to worry about.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“My feet are so sore,” Anna whined, as she collapsed on the bed that night. “I hope you’re ready to make good on your promise, mister.”

“I’m ready,” Kristoff said, sitting at the foot of the bed. He took one of her feet in his hands and began to massage it. “Tonight went really well.”

“I know, I’m so happy,” she said, sighing contentedly and relaxing against her pillow. “And I’m so relieved that everyone knows now.”

“See?” he remarked. “And to think that you wanted to wait until Christmas.”

“What was I thinking?” she giggled. 

“You were worried. It’s normal.”

“Now I have one less thing to worry about,” she pointed out. “We don’t even have to worry about doing the dishes tomorrow anymore because my sister and Honey did them.”

“And we have a lot to be thankful for.”

She nodded in agreement. “I’m thankful for you, and the baby, and our incredibly supportive family.”

He smiled warmly, giving the foot in his hand a tight squeeze. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

[chartedworlds-blog]

Is there any activity your muse would enjoy doing with someone else? A particular experience they want to share?

Sensual Sunday

Valathaan loves stargazing with someone else, not only to bask in the beauty with another person, but to share the folklore associated with each star, their names and their histories. Shamelessly, he even likes to make a little game out of naming as many as you can, which may or may not be because he’s an astrocartographer and will likely come out on top. One of Gwendolen’s wishes was to sail west together and to lie down on the boat, peering up to the starlit skies. It is something he’d always wanted to do. He never could. 

He’d want to be under the stars with someone, under the moon, climb up a high point to see it all the better. Follow the northern lights.

Other than that, Valathaan would love to travel with another person because he does it alone so often. Step through a portal and see what’s on the other side. Grow a flowering garden. Sit in peace in that garden. Share a dream together, to literally be aware like lucid sleep in each other’s dreams. Experience telepathy. Make up a grand tale with someone, completing it together, trying to make it more exciting and enticing than them each time. Finishing a drawing with someone else. 

[koko-bopp]

Flirty Criminal — song mingi

*Pt. 2*

criminal!song mingi x detective!male!reader

word count – 2K

warning – mild smut | more swearing than normal

genre – cop and criminal!au | mafia!au

“It’s only for work, honey.” You re-confirmed for what felt like the twelfth time in the last ten minutes. Your husband was sitting on your shared bed, fidgeting with the non-existent dust on the messy sheets. You watched him stare at the fabric with too many caution signs flashing in his mind. “Hey,” you said softly, prompting him to look up at you from the mirror, “You don’t have to worry. I’m going to be wired the whole time.”

“I’m still worried,” He responded, still very hesitant to let you walk out of the house, “This isn’t some… This isn’t some teenager with rebellion problem. This is Song Mingi.”

You sulked for a second, fixing the maroon suit you’d only worn once. Leaving the first button of your beige button-up undone for aesthetic purposes. Your hair was gelled to your liking, wearing a piece of jewellery to complete your look. Also wearing the wire given by your colleagues, it was hooked onto your shoulder underneath your clothes.

To say the least, you looked pretty great. Very fancy date material. A look your husband appreciated, and so did Mingi.

A pout was sent to your husband, who was still dying of worry. You took a hold of his hands, looking at him gently, “I’ll be fine.”

-

“Pretty expensive place.”

Mingi winked, taking a sip of red wine all the while keeping his cheeky smirk. “Only the best for you, detective.”

You genuinely wondered if you’d be able to dine in a place like this, considering your paycheck.

Everything was a rich red, vibrant green and elegant white. There was white writing around the walls, unknown to you until a few moments ago that they’re the signatures of the most famous chefs in the twentieth century. Meals we’re perfectly set with shiny cutlery, glasses were polished to perfection and everything on the menu was absolutely mouth-watering. You couldn’t even lie, you’re impressed. You’re beyond impressed.

“You know, we could’ve just gone on a Starbucks date or something.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, picking up his menu, “Because that’s the standard your man is giving you? Starbucks?”

You pursed your lips together, hiding your small grin at the comment. It wasn’t true, it was just slightly amusing how quickly Mingi was to mock your husband. Mingi noticed the grin, provoking a prideful smirk from him.

Mingi put the menu down, clearly knowing what he was ordering. He leaned forward, “I’d recommend the lasagna. It comes in vegan or vegetarian too. So no complaints.”

“Song,” you frowned, “What are you playing at?”

Mingi smiled innocently, placing his hands under his chin, eyes pinned on you like you were an artwork to him. “Nothing at all, Detective. You’re reading too much into it.”

You chuckled bitterly, “Considering who you are, I don’t think I have a choice.”

“And yet you talk to your cop friends about how ridiculously good looking I am,” Mingi glared your way. He kept going when you couldn’t think of a quick response, “Don’t play tough guy here, love. I’ve got enough eyes and ears around to know that you don’t hate me as much as you like to substantiate.”

“Touché.”

The waiter came around with both your meals not even ten minutes after ordering. You tried to keep your behaviour as professional as possible, asking questions about his life to get as much information as you could; but you knew Mingi wasn’t dumb, he only went as far as talking about his day yesterday and present situations or his favourite things. It wasn’t boring at all, he was clearly a passionate person. Villainous, but passionate. Despite everything, absolutely none of it was useful.

“You know,” Mingi said, after a moment of comfortable silence, “You look beyond stunning tonight.”

You blushed, cursing at yourself slightly for briefly forgetting this was for your job. “I– Thank you,” You replied avoiding eye contact with him by taking a sip of your drink, “You’re very handsome yourself.”

Mingi chuckled, “Is that out of courtesy? Or do you genuinely mean it?”

You adjusted your sitting stance, trying to appear as confident as possible when answering. Apparently, you can visit a victim’s family to announce their death without crying but can’t confirm a compliment without blushing. “You claim to have ears everywhere,” You challenged playfully, “You tell me.”

“I think that rookie from the other day has a small crush on my right-hand man,” Mingi snickered, “He’s accidentally blurted out enough, I want to know what comes out of your pretty mouth.”

Now your face was hot, you looked down at your meal, smiling slightly. His confidence inside interrogation rooms was hard to deal with as it is, then when he’s truly smiling outside of the familiar four walls, it’s much nicer. Seeing a happy toothy grin was nice, him cracking a couple of jokes just to make you laugh was nice, and honestly, Mingi taking the man who’s whole job evolves around taking him to jail was just… It was just unheard of, even your supervisor was surprised, but it was lovely, none the less.

Your phone buzzed, you didn’t hear it the first time because you were busy listening to Mingi talk about his dog, but then it buzzed again, then again, and then again.

“Someone misses you,” Mingi commented, subtle but impacting with the underlying irritated tone.

You took an extra second to quickly skim over your messages. Two from your supervisor and six and counting from your husband. You muted your phone before putting it into your pocket, looking up at Mingi with an innocent smile, hoping a little lie will work, “Ha, unless you call getting spam messages from your phone company, maybe.”

He wasn’t buying in. You could tell. And it wasn’t because there was some obvious look on his face or anything, mainly because you noticed from all the interrogations that Mingi gently taps his finger on a surface when he’s impatient. Not the type you see in movies where they’re being rude, but it’s enough for you to notice.

You needed a quick bet away putting your glass down and carefully excusing yourself from the table, telling Mingi you’ll be back as soon as you fix your suit. He just nodded with a smile.

Bro, even the bathrooms were lovely. It had its own stairs of entry, a large large bathroom with marble and gold interior. You stood in front of the mirror, ignoring the few people who exited the room. All the cubicles were empty, so you took out your phone to properly examine the messages.

Wayne Haulting (Supervisor)

- [L/N], we need you to stop acting all cute and actually get something for us to work with.

- We get that he’s charming, but he’s also dangerous.

Hubby 💙

- Babe? Are you okay?

- You’ve been gone for three hours, are you safe?

- Do you want me to come?

- [Y/N]?

Hubby 💙 is typing…

The door of the bathroom opened, subconsciously prompting you to look up from your phone to the mirror before your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Mingi leaning against one of the stalls. He has a hand in his pocket, his gaze looking at you from the mirror knowingly. “Still need to fix your suit?”

You were going to say something, but his intense stare on you made it difficult to formulate a sentence. Intentionally staring you down like you were next on his menu.

And you weren’t going to lie; part of you didn’t have a problem with it.

Mingi pushed himself off the wall, bringing himself close to you enough so his hands were around your waist, gripping onto it with security, causing you to gasp lightly, earning a deep chuckle from the man behind you.

He dragged his hand down to your hips, bringing his face closer towards your neck. Your breath hitched and your heart thumping inside your chest from how close he was to you, and again, there were warning signs in your head, but even your brain seemed to be ignoring it as Mingi sank the tip of his nose and the slight flesh of his lips down the side is your neck. He pinned your hip bones forward against the counter, a soft moan leaving your lips at his forceful and yet careful actions. Mingi chuckled, from his gaze on your tender neck to your eyes that were trying to avoid the mirror, “There’s that sexy sound,” He teased.

You gripped the edge of the bathroom counter, looking down to avert eye contact, to which Mingi complied to. He began dragging gentle kisses along the pulse on your neck, his hair tickling your jaw lightly. You winced when he decided to nibble on the spot under your jawbone, the aftershock sending a shiver throughout your whole body.

You swallowed harshly because as much as you hated to admit the fact, his actions seemed to cast a desirable spell over your whole body. You felt the kisses getting harsher, more hungry and more craving-driven, which caused a few more moans coming out your mouth.

Mingi dragged his tongue up to your side of your ear, the smirk on his lips were practically predictable at this point. “Fuck. Just like that, Detective.”

You whimpered at the comment, a chuckle erupting from Mingi as you did. He didn’t stop his actions, instead enhancing them by turning you around to pin your back against the counter. You looked at Mingi with lust-blown eyes, much similar to his. He was proud of himself, taking the liberty to crawl his hand up to wrap it gently around your throat, you watched him smirk as he watched your lips part.

“You like that, don’t you?” Mingi snickered, placing his knee in between your legs, pinning himself as close to you as possible, a teasing look still on his face. He slithered his other hand up your shirt, over the fabric, pressing against everything except where you wanted him to.

However, only then you realised where his other hand headed. He stopped his tracks at the point of where your chest was exposed, you thought he was going to undo the best, but he only when higher; his hand stopping at your shoulder.

The wire.

He knew where it was.

Mingi chuckled darkly, staring into your eyes like he didn’t give you pinned against him. “I knew you were a naughty boy, [Y/N].” Mingi ever so tightly tightened his grip on your neck, not at all enough to hurt, but enough for you to know who had the upper hand.

He ripped off the wire along with the tape that was on the circular object. Throwing the thing into the sink behind you, the leftover water from whoever used it last was surely going to damage the thing.

Though you knew Mingi was far from done with you. He kneaded his knee against your crotch, a spontaneous action that made you whine. Mingi pressed his chest flush against yours, bringing his lips to your ear, “You know what happens to naughty boys, [Y/N]?” He whispered, the sinister tone able to break glass, “They get punished, Detective.”

And that was it. Mingi let go of you. You fell limp against the counter, holding yourself up from the counter as you snapped up at him in shock.

He stared back at you, the smallest of smiles on his lips. “I’ll see you around,” He said simply. You were ready to protest, yet you bit your tongue because he gave you such an intense stare. He turned back one more time before leaving the marble bathroom, “You know I will.”

[cherry3point14]

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 3

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Meta baby. Pure meta. Word count: 2,100. Chapter Summary: Your google search turns up something unexpected. A/N: No author in this one for... reasons. Also this one is kind of short and lame. A means to an end if you will, but trust me, Ch 4 is a doozy. P.S it’s nearly 3am so Chapter 4 will be up when I wake up, ya dig.

Ao3 if you prefer

It’s almost funny how dramatic the voice in your head wants to be about those suited criminals and yet it doesn’t care to elaborate on anything important. Like, say, your imminent death. The mention of it was so casual, calm, but a couple of weirdos want to pretend to be insurance adjusters and suddenly it’s all pretty prose and run-on sentences. Flowery language about broad-shouldered men in roaring muscle cars that are going to change your life. She’d kept going while you���d interviewed Maggie Hall. She’d harped on and on about how you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Of course, you couldn’t stop thinking about them, she wouldn’t shut up about them.

After an entire monologue about the way the paper felt in your hands and could never be replaced by computers—purists are the worst—you finally get to leave. That's when you get some respite. You’re walking out into the late afternoon sun and thanking Maggie for her time and it's bliss. Maggie's story sounds a little off, after years doing this you have this gut instinct for when you should investigate further. Funnily enough, you have drama in your life that you’ll submit a valid claim anyway. Just so you can get this cursed case out of your hair. You might even hurry it through the system before the thing has the chance to kill you.

You’re still not sure how a case could kill you. You’re a pencil pusher at best and the interview with Maggie is an excellent example of the majority of your fieldwork, obviously excluding the criminals at the start. Unless your demise is death by papercut.

For now, you’ve given up trying to fathom out the voice you’re hearing, especially since she's chosen to once again go radio silent. If she won’t say anything useful, like say how not to die, then you were going to have to figure out how to skip ahead on your own. Since she kept talking about the imposters you’d met that day, they seemed to be an excellent place to start.

CNK 80Q3. Ohio plates. That's as much as you know without google.

That evening you set yourself up in the same way you would to work from home. There's a desk in the corner of your dining room with a chair that offers enough lumbar support for the longest of research sessions. Although it’s your personal laptop and there’s not normally a large glass of wine sitting next to you when work.

After it powers on you’re assaulted by the usual pop-ups; windows you forgot to close last time and your emails. Procrastinating is not a new routine, and you’re on a mission, so they all get minimized instead of closed completely. Then you open a new browser window and a stark google homepage stares back at you. A hopeful new beginning.

CNK 80Q3. You’re genuinely surprised that she hasn’t started talking again to describe the change in the air as you type in the plate number. Or some drivel about the way your fingers emphasize each letter and number. It’s all there happening anyway, making the moment foreboding, but your narrator doesn’t seem care.

The first row of results are images. Weirdly its images of the license plate itself. That doesn't strike you as odd at first glance and then you think about it a little more. Why are there so many pictures of this particular license plate? Who is running around taking these pictures? You're pretty sure if you typed in your own plate number there would be no pictures of it. And then you see some shopping results where you can actually buy the plate. While the online shops might explain the images, it only really poses more questions. Why are so many people buying that license plate? What’s so special about it?

You take a sip of your wine before you scroll further, savoring the taste as well as the way it relaxes your shoulders. You don't own any 'fun' novelty coasters that say it but you're inclined to agree with the statement you've heard before. Wine really does make everything better.

You’re not yet into the murky depths of page 2 but you’re far enough down the page now to make it past the sponsored results. These links come thick and fast from websites that all seem to have one word in common. Supernatural.

Then you see your salvation. A page called Supernaturalwiki—the link is simply titled: Impala—and you stop scrolling, a grateful sound slipping past your lips as you do. Wiki, you know that word. Like Wikipedia. Wikipedia has references and moderators', clear and concise explanations. This was the easy way out you were looking for.

That’s what you hope as you click on the link anyway. Your naivety lasts all of twenty seconds before the page loads. With its stock image of a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, and a quote about it being the most important object in the universe.

Or it's the most important object in some books at least.

Further clicking and longer sips of wine reveal it’s a series of books called Supernatural—with the title of the wiki you should have seen that coming. These were story after story of ghosts and demons and angels? There are pages that describe monsters, urban legends, and two men. Sam and Dean Winchester. They each have dedicated pages with their whole lives mapped out.

Sam and Dean are fictional brothers and apparently the heroes. Each of their respective profiles begins with an illustrated image from book covers, and then a series of quotes that contradict those pictures. Then their lives are intricately detailed, or should you say they are chronologically recorded according to each book. You would read their histories in full if it wasn't for how tiny the scroll bar is, indicating that these profile pages are ridiculously long.

You sit back in your chair and take a deep breath in the hopes of it being soothing. Or answering all your questions. It does neither. You have no answers and more stress.

This went beyond two men pretending to do your job now. Those guys were driving around in a car with fictional license plates. What was this? Some weirdly immersive cosplay? Was that something Sam and Dean did in the books?

Even so, those two guys weren’t roleplaying at comic con, they were actually in that woman's home. If you hadn't arrived they could have done anything. They could be doing anything now.

There's a ding from the kitchen which means the frozen meal you’d thrown in the oven is ready. Not that you stop thinking about this while you go and grab it because the more you think the less sense everything makes. Like why is a narrator who, until now, was obsessed with those guys, so very silent all of a sudden?

Back at your desk with hot food, you head back to google to see if you can buy these books anywhere because knowledge is power. Unfortunately, not even Amazon has copies. It’s only when you add the term “ebook” to your search do you find a Tumblr blog with links to download all the files, split into two categories. Published and unpublished. There are a lot of Supernatural books and from the looks of it there’s an equal amount of drama over how the unpublished ones got out.

You start downloading them without consciously making a decision to read them. Downloading kind of happens because your macaroni cheese is too hot for your mouth to handle yet, and your hands still need something to do. Besides you didn’t necessarily need to read all of them, if they were truly terrible you’d delete the files. No harm, no foul. But if this was the only way to get answers then you and your kindle were going to be pretty busy this weekend.

“Morning Laura.” Nobody likes Mondays, yet you have a little bounce in your step having made your usual green tea, got dressed, and driven to work in complete and utter silence. In fact, you’d heard nothing all weekend. The caveat was that, yes, you’d spent all weekend reading those books.

You liked reading and without discrimination. Trashy romance novels at the airport? You betcha. Fantasy books thicker than your mattress? Sure thing, order a pizza. But a mystery? Well, those were your favorite. Of course, the detective needed some sort of sketchy backstory and there had to be a fishy amount of red herrings. Most importantly there had to be something to solve. It was an elevation of your day to day life and you always get sucked in. In your job, you try to solve the most benign mysteries; people faking insurance claims. More often than not there isn’t even a mystery to solve, someone really did slip and break something. So, a mystery that grabs you out of nowhere is like a promotion for you, a challenge.

That had been how those Supernatural books had dragged you in. Ghosts and ghouls you could take or leave, you might have stopped reading if that’s all there was. Then this Carver Edlund went and put in that damn side plot about their missing father. It was too enticing, addicting. From the cryptic disappearance to the indecipherable journal of clues. John Winchester would be the death of you.

Or case 24-01 would be. The jury was still out on that.

And now it’s Monday. You’ve heard nothing more from the voice in your head—it may have been a low-level case of carbon monoxide poisoning—and the boys are so close to figuring everything out you can taste it. Technically they know John is alive by now, you finished Shadow some point yesterday afternoon and felt yourself choke up at the emotional goodbye with a father they just got back. But they still have no clue what he's up to, which is a hideous funhouse mirror reflection of your own life. Hopefully, by the time they figure out John’s game plan, you'll have your life figured out too. And fingers crossed figuring everything out will involve staying alive as well.

“You look like you’re feeling better this morning.” Laura is her perky self, always a little too happy for this side of 9am.

Oh right, you went home sick on Friday. You should remember things like that. “I think it was a bug or something I ate maybe.”

“Sure, sure. One of those convenient Friday bugs.” She winks at you.

If she accused you of that say, last week, you’d have laughed it off given that's a thing everyone has in common; trying to skip out on work. So, that's what you try to do this side of the weekend. You push out something that hopefully resembles a regular person's laugh like you’re in on the joke. You have to fake it because you’re still thinking about Providence. The book you’d finished that morning instead of watching the news. You’re still wondering if Sam is starting to move on after Jessica. 

Needless to say, you understand now. The many fan blogs and the artwork you’d glanced at before you started reading. All those things that you’d disregarded as an unhealthy fascination for a bunch of books. Now you’re one of them, obsessed. Walking into the office with your kindle tucked in your bag and Salvation just begging to be read.

This goes beyond finding John. That plot got its hooks in you but you’ve known John was alive since Home and you’re still reading. You could also blame this on your general love of reading except it goes beyond that too. Honestly, it’s hard to pick one thing. They’re really great books. Sam and Dean have such turbulent lives but they still have each other. They’re snarky, lost, angry, and caring. They’re both so different but the sibling relationship is so real. And the stories go beyond a new monster every book, there are these huge interesting story arcs that you couldn't stop reading if you tried. John Winchester had been the first example of these addictive plot points, but not the only one.

“Y/N?”

You snap your head up, “sorry, sorry.”

“I was only saying you’re going to be here all day then, lunch?”

Even though Laura must see the decision on your face she still pretends to hope until you start speaking. “Actually I have a lot to catch up on so I’ll probably be working through. Tomorrow?”

She smiles brightly and nods, “sure thing.”

As bad as you feel about lying to Laura she has presented you an opportunity. Everyone thinks you were sick on Friday. They even think you're behind on your work and they don’t know you’ve already conducted the initial interview. Which makes your decision to sit at your desk and prop your kindle up next to your screen even easier. Nobody would notice the difference between you concentrating or reading. If you skip lunch you might be able to get to Bloodlust out of the way too.

Continue to Chapter 4.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23  Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

[purplesurveys]

1023

survey by ohsh1t2wksl8

Why might you get rid of an old family heirloom? I have the tendency to be a bad hoarder tbh, but I can imagine having no problem with throwing an heirloom out if I find out something particularly disgusting about the original owner, like if they were extremely racist when they were alive or were serial killers or something.

What is something that kids spend most of their time doing? Ooh, I haven’t been a kid nor have I hung out with kids in a while. I do know a lot of them like asking a series of questions, which I mostly find adorable. All my cousins did this with me when they were younger.

What is something that you might only do once a week? My family and I watch Sunday mass weekly. I’m not into it, but I don’t have a choice.

Why might a person wake up at 2:00 AM? Nightmares. I know this happens to me, at least.

What is something you might eat with a hamburger? I usually eat mine with French fries. But some restaurants serve burgers with onion rings, which is even better.

Name something that you haven’t done since high school gym class. Ran in an oval. That’s how we were made to warm up then, but in my college PEs we were never required to do so and stationary exercises usually sufficed.

How much would you tip a waiter or waitress for good service? Tipping isn’t required where I live and the whole calculating for the 20% bit is a completely foreign concept here. That said, I usually give a P20 tip as thanks in every restaurant I dine at; but if the service was exceptionally good, I’d give either a P50 or P100, depending on how much money I have left.

Who is your favorite character from the television sitcom, “Friends”? I think I’ve answered this recently but my answer will never change - it’s Chandler, for damn sure. Monica’s a really close second, and she was originally my first favorite until I realized Chandler is way too hilarious of a character that it would be almost an insult not to rank him 1st. The rest of my rankings go Rachel, Ross, Joey, then Phoebe.

What is something you can buy for only $1 or less? For P50, I can get myself a couple of ballpens.

Name a native Spanish-speaking country. Mexico.

What is a liquid in your kitchen that you hope no one ever drinks? Canola oil.

What is something that breaks down frequently? Me...hahahahahahahahahahaha but another answer would be the public trains that we have. Those have never been reliable and in pre-Covid days it was common to hear news of the LRT/MRT breaking down and passengers being forced to walk all the way to the next station. Of course, unsurprisingly, the government never really did anything about it, and with public transport being indefinitely halted due to Covid it’s now mostly a buried issue.

What is another name for “book”? The first guess that came to mind is publication, but now that I think about it it’s a bit of a broader term compared to book.

Name a famous wizard. I’m gonna go with the obvious because I’m not too familiar with this genre anyway: Harry Potter.

Name a piece of furniture that might be handmade. Tables! My grandpa hand-made our present living room table. :) It’s made out of wood but my mom spray-painted it black to fit more with the atmosphere she wanted for the house.

Whose name might you have tattooed on your body? I would have initials tattooed on me, but never names. That said...can’t really imagine anyone’s initials deserving a permanent spot on my skin. Maybe my kid’s/kids’, should I have my own in the future.

How long is an unbearable commute for you? I don’t commute. But as a driver, I will start getting pissed if I find myself on the road for 2 hours straight especially if my destination isn’t even too far away.

What is something that you always need to leave plugged in? The electric fan is turned on 24/7, unless I’m not in my room.

What is a sport that you’ve always wanted to play, but never got a chance to. Ooh, this is honestly hard to answer because back in high school we were given the chance to try out a bunch of sports - futsal, baseball, soccer, basketball, volleyball, badminton, table tennis, and even gymnastics and cheerleading. Name it and we were probably briefly taught it. And some sports I tried out on my own time, like beach volleyball and ultimate. Hmm...OH wait we never covered tennis!!! and I’ve always wanted to try that.

What is a fruit that you might eat in the morning? Hard pass.

What beverage do you most commonly drink with breakfast? I either have food accompanied with water, or just coffee with no food. I never have coffee if I’m having food for breakfast as I don’t like how that could affect the taste of my food.

Name a type of gun that doesn’t shoot bullets. Do water guns count? Haha.

Where is a place that you might not get cell phone reception? Underground parking lots. I’ve definitely gotten in trouble before for missing out on my mom’s texts and calls because I had been hanging out at a mall’s underground parking area.

Who might you send a selfie to? Angela, but I never really do that anymore. I used to, though, back when we still regularly sent each other Snapchats.

What is a plant that someone might grow themselves? My grandma keeps a lot of horsetail plants at my childhood home.

Name an item in or on your bed every night. I sleep beside my phone as I need the background noise from YouTube to lull me to sleep.

What type of vehicle would you not want to hit while driving? I’ve driven beside Porsches and Ferraris before, which has always made me quietly panic lmfao

What part of your body typically has an ache? I’m starting to get regular headaches after my shift. My shoulders and lower back also hurt more often now. Definitely time to invest in a comfy work chair.

Out of your work shift, how much time do you spend doing “actual work”? Hmm, not sure what actual work means butttttt on weekends, I’ll check in on work stuff for a total of maybe around 30 minutes just because I hate being far away from work for a long time haha.

Why might a person be running? They forgot something in their car and need the thing immediately.

Name an older actor who has been in lots of movies. Bette Davis.

Where is somewhere that you might need to use coins? Riding the jeepney. Or any public transport, really.

What material might be used in building a house? Concrete.

What is a metal that a coin might be made out of. No idea. I’ve long thrown my chemistry/physics lessons out of my head, lol.

Can you name a country that starts with the letter A? Azerbaijan.

What is something that comes out of clouds? Rain.

Name a food that would roll if you accidentally dropped it on the floor. Lumpia. And it is also a type of food I would have no problem picking back up regardless of where it lands. Lumpia is life hahaha.

What is something that comes in a glass bottle? Wine.

How long do your New Years resolutions typically last? I don’t make those, exactly because they never last with me.

What is something that you would hate to see floating around in your bathtub? I’d hate to be sitting in a tub filled with water that was already dirty before I could even settle in it.

About how many pages is the longest book you’ve ever read? I never finished either, but it’s either Les Miserables or Gone with the Wind.

Name something that Kentucky is famous for. Outside of KFC, which I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere that its first franchise actually opened in a different state, I have no idea.

Who would you call first after getting engaged to tell them the news? I can imagine it would be Angela.

Can you name a country with a lot of ice? I dunno. Finland maybe?

What color underwear might you wear for a special occasion? Black.

[writtingrose]

Drew X Chubby! Reader - Beautiful to Me Pt. 1

SUMMARY; He asks out Stephanie’s chubby assistant. While out, he can tell she feels insecure. So, when they get back to the hotel, he shows her how beautiful she is.

WARNINGS; Fluff and Smut. ALSO; This is about a chubby reader so expect there to be quite a lot of angst and self hatred.

REQUESTED BY; Anon

WORD COUNT; 1,754

Part 2 - 3- 4

 Y/N headed out of Stephanie and Triple H’s make shift office, making her way to catering. As she passed several superstars she kept her head down, avoiding eye contact. Y/N was rather shy; unless you were Stephanie, triple H, or Aleister simply because he was shy like her. Even then, she didn’t speak much.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice the person in front of her until she was bouncing off their chest; long, thick arms reaching out to catch and steady her. She looked up startled, eyes scanning the broad tan chest in front of her before connecting with piercing blue eyes. Her breath caught as Drew McIntyre smiled down at her, that dimple of his on full display.

“Are you alright lass?” He rubbed his hands up her arms slightly as he looked down at her.

 She blushed and nodded, keeping her eyes on his chest. “Y-yes Drew, thank you.”

He just smiled and dropped his hands. “Where ye goin in such a hurry?”

“Catering to get a banana before the matches start. I told Aleister I’d watch with him.” She rocked back and forth on her heals, crossing her arms to appear smaller, nervous.

“I’ll walk with you then.” He smiled, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Y/N blushed as she nodded, walking in front of him.

“You know I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while. Yet every time I see you, you seem to run away.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she shook her head. “I-I don’t run away. Just busy. Ya know? Being an assistant and everything.”

“Aye, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. I know we have a two-day break and was wanting to take you to dinner. Would that be all right?”

Y/N stopped in her tracks and looked up at him, eyebrow raised. Was this a joke? No way the Scottish Psychopath wanted to take a fatty like her out. He had to be joking.

“Seriously? No.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to hide her hurt as he turned to look at her, shock painting his normally placid face.

“No?” He repeated. “Well why not? Have I misinterpreted the longing glances you give me?”

Y/N frowned, she hadn’t realized he was that aware of the way she reacted around him.

“No, that’s not it. I’m me and you’re you.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you’d rather ask someone like Becky or Charlotte out anyways.”

Before he could respond she turned and headed into catering. Drew stared after her, eyebrow still raised. Had he misinterpreted the looks? Did he offend her? He really wasn’t sure. However, he knew someone who would be. A sly smirk slide back over his face as he went to find Aleister; who was, no doubt, hiding in a dark corner somewhere.

Back in catering, Y/N took a deep breath as she grabbed a banana, slowly peeling it before she took a bite. It didn’t take long for her anxiety to set in. Had she upset Drew with her blatant refusal? She really hadn’t meant to. She just couldn’t see the point in going out with him; even if she would love nothing more. After all, he really could have his pick of the women and she really was a nobody. Still...maybe she should apologize?

She sighed and hung her head as she trashed her banana peel and headed back out of catering. Now all she had to do was track down the 6’5” superstar. It couldn’t be that hard. Yet, it proved otherwise. She had circled backstage twice, missing the first two matches as she did, and couldn’t find him. At this point she was sure he was off getting ready for his match and she had missed her chance.

Drew stood at gorilla, a smile on his face as he waited for music. He had found and successfully talked to Aleister, although he had been reluctant to talk about his friend. However, he learnt all he needed too and had a plan going out as the music started.

Bobby, Baron, and he started down the apron together, ready to face off against Braun and Roman. It should be a fairly easy match and Drew was more than ready. Yet, something didn’t feel right. He tried not to dwell on it though as he slid into the ring; Bobby and Baron right behind him.

Y/N watched from backstage as Baron droned on and on about why the trio was better than Braun and Roman could ever be. She couldn’t help but role her eyes, honestly slightly tired of the same old storyline. The three of them were amazing wrestlers, but she felt like they’d be better solo. She bit her nails as the match started, barely noticing as Aleister walked up beside her.

“You know, lover boy came asking about you.” He sipped at the cup in his hands, smirking against the rim.

Y/N turned to look at him, eyes wide.

“What?!”

Aleister just chuckled and nodded. “Something about him asking you out and you running off.”

She groaned and slapped her hand to her forehead.

“That explains why I couldn’t find him to apologize.”

“He didn’t seem to upset about it Y/nickname,” he shrugged as he watched the monitor. “Was just worried he upset you.”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked at him, a million thoughts swimming around in her head. Maybe Drew wasn’t mad at her after all. Maybe she could still save any hopes for a friendship. Well, if he wants to be friends. Oh. What if he doesn’t want anything to do with her now?

“Oh fuck!” Aleister!s raised voice brought her out of her thinking and drew her eyes back to the monitor.

Her eyes widened as she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Oh, my god.”

The scene on the screen was chaos. What had started as a three on two handicap match had turned into a four on one; with Drew being the one. She watched in horror ad Baron bounced him off the ropes, right into a waiting Superman Punch from Roman. Drew went down with a thud as the whole arena went quiet. Baron and Bobby laughed as they slid out of the ring, starting back up the apron as Braun and Roman stood over the Scotsman. From there, the easily got the pin before they too, left him alone in the ring.

Y/N didn’t even fully understand what was happening until she was running past Roman down the apron, sliding into the ring before the medics even made it. She crawled to Drew’s side. He groaned, holding his side as he looked up at her.

“Aye. I knew ye couldn’t resist me love.”

She rolled her eyes as the medics slid in.

“Oh shush, I’d be concerned for anyone who took a beating like that.”

The medics quickly pushed her out of the way, checking him over for injuries; once again the moment was squandered. She’d have to find him before they left for the evening, or maybe at the hotel.

Drew watched as she walked away, huffing in frustration and anger. He had had a plan to ask her out again after they won, but that was before his so-called friends turned against him.

He pushed the medics away as he sat up, glaring at them.

“I’m fine, nothing I haven’t taken before.”

He got up and headed up the apron, medics following him as he plotted his revenge. It wouldn’t happen tonight. Oh no, tonight he had something more important to do.

Two hours later Y/N was huffing as she headed for the door to leave Stephanie’s office. She had finally finished for the night and couldn’t wait to go to the hotel and curl into bed; but Drew had other plans. He stood blocking the way, changed into a pair of basketball shorts and a plain t-shirt with his hands folded over his chest.

“Seems you’re walking into me here lately love.” He smiled playfully. “I’m here to ask you on that date again.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him. “You mean, after how rude I was earlier, you still want to take me out?”

He nodded, his signature smirk making its way onto his face.

“Aye, I’d very much like to take you out, wine and dine ya.” He licked his lips, eyes bearing into hers. “See where the night takes up Y/N. I’d love to take you out.”

Her mouth went dry at the burning intensity in his eyes. He was serious; and not taking no for an answer.

At first, she thought of a thousand horrible excuses on why she couldn’t, or shouldn’t. But the longer she looked at him the more she realized she really wanted too. Better than that, if this man really wanted to take someone like her out, she deserved it. So, she nodded, smiled and blushing slightly.

“Alright Drew, Ilike go.”

A megawatt smile lit up his face as he pulled her into a hug, her head resting level with his pecks as she gasped slightly, wrapping her arms around him. She had frozen for a second, knowing that was quite a lot of weight for him to pull into him, let alone a lot of fat to wrap her arms around, but he didn’t seem to really mind.

“Iknow it’s late and ye must be tired. We can go tomorrow?

She nodded again, mouth dry as the sent from his body soap intoxicated her.

“Uhuh.”

He chuckled, chest rumbling against her.

“I can pick ye up at six? I know yer staying at the same hotel, since everyone is there.” He pulled back and slid his phone from his pocket. “If you’ll add you’re number I’ll text you for yer room number.”

She licked her lips and stepped back, taking his phone with shaking hands. “I-I’ll text myself off yours if that’s okay? So, I’ll have your number.”

Drew nodded happily as she handed the phone back to him. “I’d offer you a ride but I know Aleister is waitin’ for ye.” He smiled and leaned forward, kissing her cheek before turning and starting down the hall. “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N, don’t even think about chickening out.”

She held her breathe, waiting until he was out of sight before she squealed, jumping in place. She spun quickly to grab her purse before rushing off to find Aleister. After all, she had so much to tell him.

 Yello lovelies! So, this request got away from me SO MUCH it’s now 2 parts. I really didn’t expect for it to go this way, but I just got so into it. Enjoy this part 1! Part 2 should be up in about 24 hours. Also, I had to edit this on my phone as severe weather/tornados have got cell signal and such acting up. So sorry for any errors

 Much love, Rose xx

TAGLIST; @biforbecky2belts @sophiewolfheart-blog @the-beastslayers-queen @theeblueehazee @hnnngy @mox-made-me-do-it @sexymoxx @xprincessofthefallenangels @finnsauroraborealis @sassyspacedust @rollingwithrollins @burnitbalor @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch

[rogertaylors-lipgloss]

Untitled Ben Hardy x Reader Chapter 2

itI really need to come up with a title for this one, esp considering it’s been my favorite so far. Any suggestions??

Word Count: 2575

Warnings: None.Yet. 

Ben had found you a place at the side of the stage, where other crew members had gathered to watch. Although there were cameras rolling, the boys were only being checked for lighting and movement. Polly and Rami stood front and center, showing him footage from the real Live Aid so he could memorize the movements. Joe practiced holding his bass and was bouncing around almost as much as the real John Deacon. Gwilym was talking to someone, going over something on his guitar. You instantly recognized Brian May, and then Roger Taylor, who was giving Ben a quick drum lesson. In awe that you were in the presence of two rock legends, you didn’t notice that Ben kept glancing at you. Make no mistake, he was absorbing Roger’s every last word, but he couldn’t help but steal a look at you in between. You were wearing a pair of dark wash boot-cut jeans and a dark orange cardigan that tied around the waist, with a pair of brown clogs. You looked so cozy, he thought, and instantly wished he was sitting with you on a couch somewhere in front of a fireplace. He shook the though from his head as Roger gave him a “good luck” and went back stage.

The boys rehearsed for about two hours, before the director finally felt like the boys had it down pat. He gave the four of them a quick rundown of how shooting would go tomorrow before calling it a day for the the cast and crew. Ben half-ran over to where you were still standing. “So, what do you think?” He asked, his eyes widening with excitement.

“Incredible. And I can’t believe that you get to work with the Roger Taylor and Brian May!” You loved Queen, so you struggle to suppress your urge to fangirl. Picking up on your interest, Ben asked, “Would you like me to introduce you?”

The jaw-dropped look on your face indicated your answer, and he led you by the hand over to where Brian and Roger were chatting with a couple of producers. “Brian, Roger- this is Y/N. She’s a good friend of mine. She’s working with Julian on the costuming.” You were frozen where you stood, and Brian turned to greet you.  

“Ah, how lovely to meet you, Y/N.” He had the kindest face you’d ever seen on a man, and you struggled to get out a “hello.” Ben, sensing how nervous you were, put his hand on the small of your back and subtly pushed you closer to the two men. Roger smiled at you and reached out to shake your hand. “Roger Taylor, love.”

Brian looked down at your shoes and his face lit up. “My goodness, I love your clogs! I have about a hundred pairs m’self.” You had heard about his vast surplus of the wooden shoes from another intern, as you hadn’t been lucky enough to go with the group to pull costumes from Brian May’s own closet. “Are you a fan of Queen?”

You nodded. “Very big one. Uh, fan that is.” Roger and Brian laughed at your response. “I used to have posters of you on my wall.” You mentally smacked yourself for omitting the embarrassing detail, but Roger and Brian were endeared by it.

“Well, you’ll have you come see us play sometime. We’d love you to have you. Perhaps good ole’ Ben here can help you arrange that?” Roger clapped Ben on the shoulder and winked. “Isn’t that right?”

Before Ben could respond, Roger and Brian were pulled away to speak with the director. “We’ll have to chat another time. It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” Brian waved as he and Roger disappeared.

“So,” Ben started. “What do you usually do when you get off work?”

“Well, I don’t usually meet to world-famous rock legends for starters.” He laughed. “I usually just pick up some fast-food on the way back to my hotel.”

“You’re staying in a hotel?” He asked, shooting you a concerned look.

You nodded. “I couldn’t stay in the dorms anymore after I took this job, and I haven’t gotten my first paycheck yet, so a hotel was the cheapest option, short of sleeping in my car.”

“Well, that simply won’t do. Why don’t I treat you to a real, home-cooked meal at my place?”

You didn’t usually agree to go home with strange men you’d just met, but after spending the better part of your day around him, you felt like he was no longer a stranger.

“Sounds like a date, Mr. Hardy,” you replied. His face lit up like a box of Christmas lights.

“A date?” He repeated.

Embarrassed, you attempted to backtrack. “It’s just a colloquialism. I mean, unless you want too…”

Ben’s heart raced at the prospect of a date with you. His lips turned up in a smile. “I would really, really like that.”

After collecting your things from the costume department, you exchanged goodbyes with Julian a few other interns as you walked out to where Ben was waiting for you. He was talking in low tones with Rami, and they both went silent as they noticed you approaching. It was curious, but you didn’t pry.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow?” The both of you nodded and Rami walked off with a wave.

“Ready?” Ben asked you.  

“Ready, Freddie,” you giggled, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He laughed, catching your reference. You surprised him every time you opened your mouth, and he felt his heart flutter. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he was smitten. Little did he know that you felt the same.

Ben had convinced you to ride with him and once you had buckled your seatbelt, he handed you his phone. “Want to play D.J.?”

You eagerly accepted and knew what song you wanted to play. ’39 by Queen flooded the speakers and you leaned back with your eyes shut, humming along. Ben struggled to focus on the road, taking in how peaceful you looked and how natural it felt to have you riding shotgun. He swerved a bit and muttered “bollocks” for accidentally stirring you.

It didn’t take long to get to Ben’s. He lived in a moderately-sized apartment, and you immediately noticed the sparse décor. “Just moved in,” he explained. Suddenly, a small beagle came bounding up to you and put her two front paws up on your leg. “Frankie no-“ he started to say, but you had already sat down on the floor in front of her.  

“Hi there sweet angel,” you murmured, making sure to scratch behind her ears. “What a perfect little pup you are. You said her name is Frankie?”

Ben’s heart melted at the sight of you and Frankie. “Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “You like dogs?”

“Like dogs? I absolutely adore them. I had to leave mine behind with my mom in the states when I started school over here. His name was Seymour, a black lab. I miss him every day, he’s my best friend in the world.”

“I can’t imagine having to leave behind Frankie here, that must have been so hard.” You just nodded, trying not to tear up. Ben noticed and reached his hand down to pull you back up on your feet. You scooped up Frankie for one last hug before taking it.

You followed him (with Frankie right on your heels) into the kitchen and perched yourself on a barstool at the island, watching him flutter about. He held up a bottle of white wine. “You’ve had a long day, you deserve to relax,” he said, pouring you a glass.

“Your day was just as long!” You teased him.

“Your right,” he said before putting his lips to the bottle and throwing it back. He held the bottle back up. “To you, Y/N.”

“To me?”

Ben walked around the island, still holding the bottle, and put his hand on your cheek. “To you,” he repeated. His touch was almost electric on your skin. You picked up your own glass and clinked it against his bottle in a toast. He wanted nothing more than to lean and kiss you right then and there but was interrupted by the sound of your stomach growling.

Your face turned beet red.

“Hungry?” He asked, clearly amused.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t have a chance to eat lunch today.” You look down at your drink, avoiding his eyes. Definitely not a model, you thought again.

He stepped closer and gently reached to guide your chin up. “Don’t apologize for being hungry, love.” There it was again, that electricity. Your heart fluttered. “Now, what would you say to some macaroni and cheese? I’m afraid that’s about the extent of my cooking abilities.”

“Wow, talk about false advertising,” you said with fake outrage.

“Oi, I said home-cooked meal, not a four-course dining experience.” He tugged on the hem of your sweater.

“Well, lucky for you macaroni and cheese is one of my favorites. But,” you said, sliding carefully off the stool, “I don’t know if I trust a Brit with a box of Kraft.” Before he could respond, you had walked over and begun filling up a pot he had already pulled out with water.

He watched you feel your way about his kitchen, attempting to find the necessary ingredients on your own and quickly silencing him with a loud shush before he could give away the location. You were stubborn, but in an self-reliable, independent woman type way. He could tell you were used to doing things on your own and correctly guessed that was how you liked it. When you had finished cooking the macaroni, Ben helped you scoop the servings into bowls before leading you over to the couch. It was a bit drafty, Ben thought, and set down his bowl while he lit the fireplace. He sat back down and looked over at you. You had long-since kicked off your clogs and had your feet folded underneath you as you ate, looking even better than when he had imagined it earlier that day. Ben took a bite of his food and was instantly stunned. “In all my years of eating macaroni out of box, it’s never tasted this good. What did you do?”

           You offered him a sly smile and winked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Ben’s heart raced at the challenge. “It’s a trade secret, I’m afraid. You’ll never get a peep out of me.” You knew exactly what you were doing and before you could take another bite, Ben had abandoned his bowl on the coffee table and pounced on you, tickling your ribs. You managed to set your bowl down before it could fall and half-heartedly tried to push him off of you. He continued until finally you couldn’t take it anymore and blurted out, “Sour cream! Sour Cream!” You gasped for air. “I put a small dollop of sour cream in the macaroni and cheese.”

           Ben hovered over you, reveling in your surrender. You looked up at him and hoped that he was feeling what you were. Chemistry. Pure, raw chemistry. You took the plunge, lacing your fingers into his gorgeous head of blonde locks and pulled his lips down to yours. He moaned and allowed himself to collapse lightly on top of you. His soft pink lips matched your pace, pushing and pulling against your mouth. He held himself up on his elbows, holding your face in one hand and allowing his other to rest on your waist. You gently tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth, inviting him in for more, and he hungrily forced his tongue into your mouth. “Ben,” you murmured, and he moved his lips to your neck.

           “Yes, love?” His accent made you melt. As much as it pained you, you sat up a little more, prompting him to look at you with those wide eyes of his.

“I don’t want to be just another notch in your bed post.”

“My bed doesn’t have posts,” he chuckled. You swatted his arm. He feigned an “ouch.”

“I’m serious. This job, it’s important to me. It’s more than a job. It’s my career, and I’m just starting out. I don’t want to be another girl who fell for an actor who only wanted a one night stand.”

Ben was paying attention now. His heart ached that you would think that of him, but he also knew how some actors treated women who worked on set. He ran his fingers through your hair before letting his hand rest on your cheek. “I don’t want a one night stand, Y/N. I like you and everything I’ve learned about you so far, and I want to learn even more.” Your heart skipped a beat at his revelation. How could a man like Ben Hardy possibly be interested in a girl like you? “If it helps, I pinky promise not to try and get in your pants for the rest of the night. No promises for our next date, though,” he said with a flirtatious wink.

You smiled and nodded, now feeling more at ease. Ben tossed you the TV remote before picking his bowl back up to finish the meal. You still hadn’t gotten used to British television shows, so you settled on an interesting documentary about the Wars of the Roses. Though it was not something he would have ever chosen, he loved the way your eyes lit up as you absorbed information you’d undoubtedly already heard at least a hundred times.

The warm glow of the fireplace radiated throughout the room, but you still managed to catch a chill. Ben noticed you shiver, and reached over the arm of the couch to pick up a blanket. He opened his arms out to you. “C’mere, love.”

You scooted across the length of the couch until you reached Ben, who maneuvered so that your back was flush against his chest before he wrapped the oversized blanket around the two of you. Even through his clothes, you could feel the warmth of his body. You laid your head back, and he snaked his arms around your waist before placing his head atop yours. The weight of the long day settled over your body and you could feel yourself nodding off.

Ben was overwhelmed by the feeling of you in his arms. It felt so natural, a perfect fit. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to ravish you right there on his couch, but he understood and respected your reservations and he desperately wanted to prove to you that this was more than some flirtation to him. He knew the instant he first laid eyes on you that he needed you. He tried to pay attention to the documentary, but he felt your head fall lax on his chest. Peering down, he was flattered to see that you had fallen asleep in his embrace. Carefully, he scooted down a bit so that his head rested on the throw pillow that had been stuffed behind his back. He was still slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare wake you up. Frankie, who’d been lounging by the warmth of the fireplace, wandered over and jumped up onto the back of the couch. The three of you slept there together all through the night.

Tag List (If I missed you send me a message): 

@onceuponathreetwoone @disasterdeacy @thetinyfiore @queenislife-1974 @derekxsammy @itsametaphorbriansblog @caborhapch @thessxoxo @wint-er-voices @sebspeach @stfxlou @queeniesteiins @mazzlandtn @theyrealllegends

[inkskinned]

literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips

source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole

just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names

talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-. 

if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.

physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.

nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you

about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound. 

this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!

no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.

you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.

if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.

college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff

oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest

i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.

if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.

white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)

steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush

write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall

DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.

like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.

PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.

also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.

you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.

watch kaplan nike just do it 

if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.

“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.

the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.

i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!

literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.

i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh

take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.

make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it 

the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression. 

if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost. 

don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out

don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed 

on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.

when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it

ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”

get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it

the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes

bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect

switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense

when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried

[escapingreality1992]

Secret Pen Pals Ch. 5

Keira’s POV

           Thanksgiving showed up faster than expected. Meaning, I needed to pack for the trip to my parents’ house. It also meant I would live up to the promise to send a letter to Steve detailing my time spent with family. While packing, I made sure to pack the essentials like clothes, toiletries, and the like. In two separate bags, I made sure I packed the beginnings of Steve’s blanket, plus the writing items I needed to send him something. If anyone asked, I could pass it off as getting back into writing. Who knew? Perhaps I could work out something anyway.

           Once I was packed, I hailed a cab to JFK airport, my flight being at 12:10 p.m. I’d arrive in Greensboro close to two and at my parents’ around 2:30 or 3 depending on the traffic with it being Thanksgiving. The thing about me is that I tend to get to some places early, arriving at the airport two and a half hours earlier than my flight. Most people did this anyways, preparing for delays in security and checking in luggage. Not too surprising, given that it was busy during the day itself.

           It only gave me an excuse to sit down and read in my boarding gate. This time it was a book I needed to read for a book club I joined a few days ago. Unfortunately, this particular book bored me; I guess I could attempt to get it over with while sitting here. It would allow me to move onto the next Dresden Files book on the plane. As it happens, the goal was achieved and I wrote up a quick review about the book; Where the Crawdads Sing, one of the most hyped-up books this year. Not my favorite, a little slow, and a bit shocking at the end.

           I guess I couldn’t figure out why everyone loved it, but then that’s their own opinion. I’m not going to condemn them just because I didn’t like it. It didn’t live up to my own standards, but I have always had weird tastes to begin with. It’s not like people can’t enjoy the book, but I didn’t really care for it and that’s okay.

           Satisfied with the review, I shut down my laptop and put it away, tuning into the next book of interest. I didn’t get very far into it when they called us to board, a full flight; thank goodness I brought my earbuds to tune out the surrounding noise around me. I breathed a sigh of relaxation as the plane glided through the air, reading taking over any unnecessary thoughts roaming around in my mind. The only ones that sought out freedom from the story playing out before my eyes were the ones about Steve.

           How would he celebrate the holiday? Would it be with friends or family? If we had met, would he travel with me? Meet my family? Would he invite me to spend it with his? A small smile tugged at my lips at those thoughts when they popped up, enjoying them and the scenarios that came with them. I imagined my parents and the rest of my family welcoming him with open arms.

           Dad would probably grill him about his intentions and try to find out every little detail about him. Mom would talk his ear off, making subtle remarks about marriage. These scenarios prompted a giggle from my throat, silenced by the look I caught from the person sitting next to me. Wouldn’t it be lovely if Steve was by my side at this moment?

             We landed and I waited for people to get off the plane to head to baggage claim. Before I booked the tickets, I had gotten Dad to agree to pick me up from the airport and planned on meeting him outside in the carpool lane of the PTI airport to return to their home.

           “Hey, daddy. Happy Thanksgiving,” I greeted him, handing off my suitcase to be put in the trunk of the car. The other bags were put in there as well before he embraced me in a tight hug.

           “Hi, honey. Welcome home. Everyone should be arriving at 3 for dinner. Did you have a nice flight?”

           “Yeah, it was fine. Full, but fine,” I told him, getting in the passenger side and closing the door.

           “It is Thanksgiving. It’s to be expected. Your mom is excited to see you and I imagine Newt will want to see you as well,”

           “He’ll tackle me and then lick me to death. Still, I’ve missed the big furball,”

           “Just a heads up, Keira. I’m sure your grandmas will want to know about what you’ve been up to. They’ll want to know about your love life, so expect a lot of questions,” Dad warned me.

           “Wonderful. I can’t wait,” I grumbled, my happy mood now dampened. I was under the illusion that I’d get through the holidays without more people wanting to get involved in my life. It appeared everyone wanted nothing but to invade how I was getting on with it; if I was dating, where I was heading in my career, if they could offer any unwanted assistance. If only I could become invisible to avoid all the pestering.

           “You’re staying until Monday, right?” Dad asked, getting off the subject of the impending interrogation I’d be receiving upon the arrival of other family members.

           “That’s the plan. Unless I decide otherwise,” I answered. If things. If things went awry, I wanted to fly home immediately, avoiding the crushing drama, which happened each time our family got together. If things appeared normal, then I’d stay, enjoying the company of my parents. It’d all depend on everyone’s attitude and if they chose to piss me off, intentional or not.

           “Alright. You’re in your old room. Not much has changed, except we repainted the walls this summer,” Dad stated.

           “Thanks, Dad,” We pulled up to their two-story house and parked behind the second car they owned. He helped get my things out of the trunk to carry them inside; scraping claws sounded from the living room to the kitchen where we were entering, followed by a loud bark. A giant German Shepherd jumped on me, the force of his weight making me stumble back a little.

           “Newtie! Hey, buddy. Who’s a good boy? Newt is. I’ve missed you Newtie,” I stated, pushing his front paws to the floor and petting him as he spun around in circles. He sat and the proceeded to lay down in the middle of the floor for me to rub his belly. I dropped to my knees to give him the attention he wanted before getting up to place my luggage in my room for the weekend. I unpacked and found my brush, running it through my long hair, getting the tangles out from it getting bunched up on the plane. A knock sounded at my door and I turned to face my mom.

           “Welcome home. I trust you had a good flight,” she greeted me. I nodded and walked over to hug her.

           “Happy Thanksgiving,” I told her.

           “Others will be arriving soon. Come on down,” she said, letting go and exiting the room. I sighed and descended the steps, preparing myself for the dinner of possible drama. At least, I could count on Newt to keep me in a good mood.

  Steve’s POV

           Sounds of things being banged around roused me from sleep; a section of blonde hair falling in front of my eyes when I sat up. My first thought is someone was breaking in and I needed to go help resolve the situation. Not caring if I attacked them without a shirt on, I bolted from bed and sprinted downstairs, ready to spring into action.

           Listening for where the noise was coming from, I follow it to the main dining room, trying my best to be stealthy. I peek around the corner to find Thor, Wanda, and Tony hanging Thanksgiving decorations. Standing straight from my crouched position, I walked in to address what is going on.

           “Tony? Thor? Wanda? What are you guys doing?” I asked, confused as more decorations are put into place on the walls.

           “Thanksgiving. I’ve invited a few people over to eat. It’ll be kind of a big family feast. Strange will be here as well as Wong, not to mention it’ll be good to have a break from things for a few days,” Tony stated, moving chairs down to make more room at the huge conference table we held meetings at.

           “Thanksgiving. Right. I didn’t realize that was today. Do you need help with anything? I could grab supplies at the store. Maybe cook the turkey,” I said.

           “You can go with Natasha for the food and help cook. We’ve got the decorations covered. I might suggest you put something on that isn’t sweatpants though,” he responded to my question. I nodded and returned to my room to change into a gray shirt, jeans, boots and my favorite leather jacket. I met Nat downstairs by the entrance.

           “Ready to go?” I asked her, receiving a shake of her head.

           “We’re waiting on Bucky. Don’t get mad, but I’ve invited him because I think you should tell him about…her,” She told me.

           “Nat. I’m not sure I need to tell anyone else about Keira,” I argued.

           “Steve, he’s your best friend. He should know. In case you need him to talk about her with. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to tell anyone else,”

           “I’ve got you, don’t I?” At the quirk of one of her eyebrows, I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face.

           “Alright, fine. I’ll tell him. Only him. I don’t want anyone else to know. Not until after we’ve met. Not until I know for sure,” I said. She smiled, patting me on the arm. A minute later, Bucky joined us, and we walked out to one of the SUVs in the garage. Natasha drove us to the store we normally shopped at, my heart hammering at the thought of telling someone else about the letters and Keira.

             “Wait, wait, wait. You mean to tell me you’ve been writing to a complete stranger? A woman named Keira. And you didn’t tell me?” Bucky said when I revealed the secret to him.

           “Yeah. I tried to keep it secret until Natasha discovered one of the letters. Tony technically saw one first, but I grabbed it before he had a chance to ask any questions,” I answered. I carded a hand through my hair, a bit nervous about his next reaction. He pulled a couple of bottles of wine – both red and white – from the shelves and placed them in the shopping basket with the other supplies we acquired.

           “Why?”

           “Why keep it a secret? I don’t know. I-,”

           “No, why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t judge, and I don’t spill secrets. Why didn’t you say something?” Bucky asked, his expression turning to anger.

           “I guess I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I didn’t expect to develop feelings. It just sort of happened. I feel connected to her in ways I never knew existed. This is nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Especially not with Peggy when we interacted,”

           “How long? How long have you been writing to her?”

           “A few months. Since September. It started as an event from a bookstore. No deadline, but I thought after the first letter, we might stop, get bored. Except her first letter drew me in and I found I didn’t want to stop corresponding to her.

           The second letter made me realize I wanted more. After the third, I knew I needed more. The last one I sent to her, I knew I wanted to meet her,”

           “A few…Steve, you should’ve said something. Especially, if you think you’re falling for this girl. Have you looked into her? Found out who she really is?” Bucky said, tossing in blocks of cheese when we approached the deli department.

           “No, and I don’t want to. Something about her words makes me feel I can trust her. You can’t tell anyone. Please, Buck. I’ll tell them eventually. After I meet up with her, once I know for sure she’s the one I want. The letters are wonderful, but I’d like to see what happens when we actually meet face to face,” I replied. He raked a hand through his hair, taking in what I said, a sigh escaping his lips.

           “I’m not saying anything to anyone, I promise. When will you see her?”

           “After the holidays. I would like to start the new year right. Create new beginnings. See how things go. I’ve sent her this request. I have to wait to see her response. Of course, there’s the possibility that she won’t respond if she feels I’ve crossed a line,”

           “What happens if you meet before the holidays are over? Will you be prepared for it? Will you be prepared if things don’t pan out the way you want them to?” he asked.

           “Don’t worry about me. Everything will be okay, whether Keira and I connect more or not. Let’s just get through Thanksgiving,” I stated.

           “If they don’t end up together, we can always set him up with someone else,” Natasha chimed in, throwing in packets of gravy. I managed to nod and chuckle at her comment, secretly hoping Keira and I would work out, so that didn’t happen.

             We finished up shopping, returning to the compound to prepare the feast. Tony told us guests would be arriving around 5, leaving us plenty of time to get everything together and to change into nice attire – I changed into a dark blue, button up shirt, black trousers, and black leather loafers to complete my outfit – celebrating with our huge family.

           Often, I found myself wandering to thoughts of Keira; how she was getting along with her own family, if she was thinking about me, how, if she were here, would she get along with my own version of family. I’d look at Natasha and Wanda with their arms around each other kissing or Tony and Pepper gazing at each other with adoration and wonder what Keira would feel like in my arms.

           Even Strange had brought a date and the same pang of loneliness I felt at the benefit returned; I shoved it away taking in the happiness of the group around me. I was loved by many, my friends always being there for me. Bucky was even like a brother to me. It didn’t stop me from wanting to be loved by her, by Keira. I knew she had gone to North Carolina. Again, as I approached a window, peered out of it, glancing at the stars, I thought of her.

  Meanwhile, in Greensboro

Keira’s POV

           During one part of the night of Thanksgiving, I drifted over to one of the windows and peered up at the stars, lost in thought, already broken away from conversations with those who were there. Other members of the family showed up; first my mom’s mother who I called Mimi, then dad’s side – his brother Andrew, my aunt Kelsey, my cousin Callie and her son Jonathan, plus my dad’s mother – Grandma Luanna, all being on time to the feast.

           As expected, everyone inquired into my life, asking about if I was seeing anyone and my career, which all in all wasn’t too bad. It appeared to die down when food was ready, and everyone sat down to eat. Still, I wanted to disappear, to write to the one person I wanted to talk to. The one person I wished was here. Later when everyone has cleared. When my parents have gone to bed, I thought. I knew if I left for too long, questions would be asked, secrets would be discovered.

           Feeling the need of a brownie, I strode over to the counter and piled three of them on a plate and sat down at a table before Callie came over. Currently, as I nibbled on the brownies, a conversation was held between the two of us about New York.

           “I wish I could’ve gone with you. It’d be nice to have my own place. Especially in New York,” she said.

           “It’s not too bad. It’s prettier in Fall and Winter,” I said, taking another bite of the chocolate treat.

           “So, you haven’t found anyone yet? To date, I mean?”

           “Please, not this again,” I groaned.

           “Why not? You’ve been up there for two years and no one’s asked you out? Not even any of the Avengers? Like Tony Stark?” she pressed.

           “He’s engaged, Callie. It wouldn’t work even if he wasn’t. He seems nice, but he’s not really my type,”

           “Stephen Strange?”

           “I thought you didn’t like him because of his supposed arrogance. Alas, no, he hasn’t. I’m not really in his world though. He’s kind of hot, but I don’t usually date someone based on looks. Trust me, I’ve seen his pictures before and after the accident,”

           “Thor? Captain America?”

           “No and no. Callie, don’t worry. I’m okay.

           “You don’t want a boyfriend? Aren’t you lonely?” she asked, the last question hitting home. Sure, I was a bit lonely, but I didn’t think any of the Avengers would be the right choice. Maybe Captain America, but I would like to get to know the man behind the mask and costume. Not that I knew his real name. I’d like with that anyone, really. I liked to get to know the people I dated before I dated them. I fell for personalities, not necessarily looks. I was a firm believer that someone could be good looking but could end up being a jerk.

           Steve was one I really enjoyed finding out about, getting to know. He appeared to be warm and gentle; a captivating soul. Not to mention he made feel warm inside.    

           “Don’t tell me you’re interested in women. Is that why you dismissed the men I offered?” Callie asked, a look of disgust on her face.

           “No. Of course not. I’m a little lonely, but I’m not in any rush to get married right now. When I meet the right one, I’ll be sure to tell you. By the way, there’s nothing wrong in liking women,” I told her, annoyed by her attitude. Callie scoffed and changed the subject before we joined everyone else. The celebration lasted a few more hours, going until around 8 when everyone went home, leaving my parents and me alone for the rest of the evening. We mainly watched movies, the cheesy kind in which everyone lived happily ever after. You know, like Hallmark movies.

           Around midnight, my parents retired to bed while I crafted a new letter to Steve.

  Steve’s POV

           “Explain to me why you’re still single. You could have any woman you want and yet you haven’t found one single girl to date. To settle down with,” Tony stated, knocking me out of my thoughts.

           “I don’t know Tony. I’m not rushing into anything. You know how I am. I like to be friends with people, or women, before I do anything,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

           “I still think you would have found someone by now,”

           “It’s not that easy. Plus, we’ve been busy these last couple of weeks, not to mention all of the years we’ve been fighting enemies,”

           “I don’t think you’re trying hard enough. Maybe-,”

           “Tony, leave him alone. He’ll settle down when he’s ready. It took you years before you found Pepper,” Natasha cut in. Tony surrendered and the subject was dropped. I mouthed a thank you to Nat and tuned into the funny stories everyone was sharing. The night started becoming late, coming up around 1 a.m. and soon Strange, his date, and Wong returned to the Sanctum.

           One by one, people left to return to their rooms, giving me leave to go to mine. I picked up a book, deciding to read for another hour, but kept losing interest. My attention kept wandering to my desk where my notebook lay, a letter waiting to be crafted. It’s not that I was afraid to write another one, but after the last one I sent, I wasn’t sure if I should write one. What if Keira had decided I had crossed a line and wanted to cut off communication.

           Write her, Steve. You can still be friends with her, I thought. Closing the book, I walked over to the desk, crafting a new one. I stuck to asking about how she celebrated Thanksgiving and wishing her a good one. I tried not to confess my feelings to her again, instead telling her about Bucky and Natasha, followed by some fears I had. I even wrote her a story with warmth, an imagined scenario I wanted to happen between us.

  Four Days Later

           Our routine hadn’t returned during the rest of the week, allowing us the freedom to do what we wanted. I still went out for runs, the cool air distracting me from waiting by the mailbox for another letter from Keira. I managed to stay out of the compound as some of the couples were being a little loud with their own activities.

           Even Bucky and I hung out at coffee shops and movie theaters to get away from it all. In fact, I had ventured out to a coffee shop this afternoon to relax and read, returning in time with the mail truck, approaching the box after the mail man had left a stack of mail in it. Thumbing through the stack, I found the one I was looking for. I strode inside, leaving the rest on the coffee table. No one was home except for Bucky, leaving me to look at the contents of the letter without anyone being nosy.

           I threw it down on the bed, pacing back and forth. What would be her answer? What did she think of me now? I picked up the letter immediately putting it back down, nerves encompassing every part of me. I ran a hand through my hair, squeezing the back of my neck as I stared at the envelope. Unable to bear the unread contents, I sat down in the middle of my bed, opening it with shaking fingers and pulling out the paper within. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I unfolded the letter and started reading.

           Steve,

           Believe me when I say you haven’t crossed any lines. Thank you for the confession. Truth be told, we’re on the same page. I believe I’m falling in love with you too. Your words have me made me feel like nothing I’ve ever felt with anyone before.

           I can’t stop smiling every time I receive something from you. I feel more alive, more confident when I write to you. I feel I’m a lot braver when writing, the words flowing like water on these pages. I think it’s time we meet. See where this goes. I agree with your suggestion. Let’s meet after the holidays. Start fresh with a new year.

           Start somewhere small. Maybe coffee or lunch. Or maybe a movie. Do you want to set a date and place to meet? Would you like me to? I can send over my schedule and you can send me yours to figure it out.

             “She wants to meet. Keira said yes to meeting,” I stated out loud and in shock. A wave of happiness washed over me next, my lips stretching out in a huge grin. I’d have to get with Tony to figure out some sort of schedule and find out a good time to get together with her. I wanted lunch to spend as much time with her as possible. Maybe we could stretch it out into a dinner. I continued reading, interested in every word.

             Perhaps, you’re also right. Maybe fate will have us meet earlier. Still, I think a plan should be made in case it doesn’t happen. I want to see you, to touch you, to feel your skin against mine. I imagine you’re warm and gentle. Your words alone have me thinking it. I have no doubt we’ll be happy when meeting. I believe we’ll get along great.

             Yes, I watched the storm. I believe I said so in my last letter. My power went out and I resorted to candles when it was over. It’s funny and lovely that one storm brought a connection between us, drawing us in. It’s not only the letters, but nature must be telling us something. Maybe we’re meant to be.

           I loved your list of favorites. For your next musical, once you’ve watched Rent, you should give Phantom of the Opera a try. The movie is beautiful. So is the show. I saw it live in Vegas a couple years back. Reduces me to tears every time. I’ve always loved the Phantom even though some of the choices he makes are awful. I’ve seen the Goonies. It’s fantastic. It took me a while to see it, though. I thought it was something different than it was. I…I’d like to have your arms around me. Especially, during the Winter.

           Some country singers I think you might like are Lady Antebellum, Dan + Shay, Hunter Hayes and Kip Moore. They’re pretty good and have some softer songs I think you’ll enjoy.

             As you can probably see from the address on the front of this envelope, I’m at my parents for Thanksgiving. Things weren’t as bad as I thought. Yes, they grilled me again, but at least it didn’t last the whole night. Of course, I’ve discovered I can’t drink a whole lot if I haven’t had that much food. I had a killer headache towards the end of the night, but I took Advil to make it go away. It gave me enough focus to write to you. I’m writing late at night, as when everyone left to go home from my parents’, we watched cheesy Hallmark movies until they went to bed.

                       This got a small laugh out of me. I imagined doing this with her next year, one arm draped over her shoulders, the other linking with her fingers. We’d be buried under one of her blankets, our bodies close.

             Want to know something interesting? I found myself over at a window glancing up at the stars, thinking of you. I thought about what you were doing, how you were celebrating Thanksgiving. What it would be like to have you here with me.

           Oh FYI, I’m here for four more days, so I may not get your letter until I get back to Brooklyn. It’ll be worth the wait, though I really want it much sooner. We need to meet, soon if possible. I miss you even though I haven’t seen you yet.

 Until next time. Until we meet. Please write soon.

Waiting for you,

Keira

              Tears welled up, a couple escaping down my cheeks. Clearly, we were more connected than we thought. Both of us were drawn to a window, both of us thinking of each other. A soft knock echoed at my door; I quickly wiped away the tears from my cheeks and blinked back the others that threatened to fall before I answered the door.

           Behind it stood Bucky, who seemed to want to invite me somewhere. He took one look at my face and worry crossed his features.

           “Everything okay?” he asked.

           “Everything’s fine. Did you need something?”

           “Danvers texted. She wanted to invite everyone out to drink and play darts at our usual bar. Want to come?”

           “Sure. Let me grab my jacket and put shoes on,” I answered, turning back inside my room. I put up the letter and placed it in the box I had the others.

           “Keira again? Did you get the answer you wanted, or did she reject you?” Bucky asked, once I got my jacket on and stuffed my feet in my shoes.

           “I received the best answer one could get. She wants to meet. Turns out we’re more connected that I thought. Let’s go before everyone gets suspicious,” I told him.

           “You’ve got it bad for this chick. I can only imagine what will happen when you finally meet her,” Bucky said. He was right. I had major feelings for Keira, and they would only grow stronger once we came in contact with each other.

  Monday Night

Keira’s POV

           I got back to New York around 8 p.m. and took a cab back to my apartment after picking up my luggage. I made a stop at my mailbox to pick up the missed envelopes and magazines I had gotten while away, taking the elevator to rummage through them.

           My fingers landed on one special envelope, the address and name standing out. Steve. I smiled, eager to open it, waiting until I got into my apartment before I did so. I didn’t even make it to the bedroom before my fingers were under the edge of the envelope and pulling out the paper inside it. I sat down on the couch, pulling off my boots and began reading.

             Keira,

           It’s Thanksgiving. Something I forgot about until this morning. I almost attacked a few of my friends when they were setting up for the feast. You’d probably love them. Especially Wanda, who is a sweet girl. She’d love to watch movies with you, and she loves animals. Thor would wrap you into a bear hug because everyone says he’s a giant teddy bear.

             Thor? He’s friends with an Avenger? I thought, recognizing the name right away and the next after.

           Tony will talk your ear off about technology but he’s fun and intriguing. Anyway, a couple of us went to the store to pick up supplies to help out with the huge dinner. There’s a bunch of us attending the dinner and my friends are practically family since my real family passed away a while ago. Though, I wouldn’t trade this family for anything. I’d only introduce someone new to the group. I’d love to introduce you to this group.

           Thanksgiving was enjoyable. We drank and ate a lot, having fun talking and hanging out. At one point, I went over to one of the giant windows we have here at home and looked out to the stars. My first thought was about you and where you were at that very moment. I knew you were in North Carolina of course, but I kept asking myself if you were at a window as well, staring up at the stars or if you were talking to someone you love.

           I know I haven’t received your answer yet, but I still want to meet. I still want to see your gorgeous face. I’m being patient and I’ll gladly accept any answer you give even if…it’s a no or you don’t want to write anymore.

           I’ll accept it even if it kills me, but it’s ultimately your choice. I only want your happiness, even if you might not want it with me. Based on your last letters, I feel that you want this, but I could be reading into it wrong.

             Believe me, I want this. I want you, but you’ve sent this before you’ve gotten mt answer. You’ll be in for a surprise, I thought. I kept reading, soaking in his words.

             I hope your Thanksgiving went well. No drama, no judgment. I hope you enjoyed your fill of turkey and dessert. As I sit here, I find I want to know what you’re thinking about. What you’re doing. Are you asleep? Are you wide awake? Are you writing to me or are you working on something original? Will you write me something you’re working on? Write me something that came from your imagination.

           Send me something beautiful. Send me something romantic, though your words are just that. Send me something that speaks volumes of your soul. Something from your heart. Let me see it, let me feel it, let me hear your heart. Each beat, each color of your soul. Please?

             You asked me to tell you about my oldest friend. His name is Bucky. Well, technically speaking, his full name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I’ve always called him Bucky. He’s my closest and we grew up in the same area. He’s the one that immigrated here. He’s originally from Romania in case you were wondering. Both of us grew up poor, but we got by when we could. We had our friendship too, which is nice. He was there when my parents died and has been by my side ever since.

           He’s sweet and kind. He’s been through a lot though, but still has a kind soul. I feel like you two would get along great. You’re both gentle and loving. He’s the same one who made me get on the Cyclone at Coney Island and I threw up afterwards. He’ll most likely be the first person I’ll introduce you to after we meet…if we do meet. Bucky is the one I talk to most.

           Apart from Natasha. She’s sweet too, but she’s got a fiery attitude. A good thing, a Natasha thing. She’s currently dating Wanda, a romance I don’t think anyone expected to happen. They’re happy together and that’s all that matters. In love, in fact. Their relationship blossomed extremely well.

             I wonder if he’s friends with the same Natasha, I met a few weeks ago, I thought.

             I don’t have a story to keep you warm at night. At least not something real. I can only give you a scenario involving us. I’ll try my best to give you something you can picture in your mind.

           Close your eyes after reading this.

             Imagine us in a cabin during the Winter months. It’s just us, no one else. It’s snowing. Not heavily, but it’s gentle, beautiful. Like you. Maybe it’s Christmas, maybe not. We’re sitting on a couch or bed, curled under a couple of your blankets. You’re pressed close to me. My arms are around you, your head is on my chest, my lips pressed into your soft hair as I kiss you there. Soft music is playing in the background, a fire crackling in the fireplace near us, surrounding the cabin in warmth as well as the blankets; as well as our bodies close together.

           I lift your chin up to give you a kiss on the lips. It’s soft but lingers after a few moments. Even once we’ve pulled apart from it, your olive-green eyes gazing into my light blue ones. You snuggle closer, link your fingers with mine. We don’t even have a book. We’re reveling in each other’s company, enjoying the snow, the sound of the crackling fire, sharing kisses. Talking, loving one another.

             I close my eyes once I’ve read it all. Re-live it in my head. It’s a lovely view. Something I desire to happen between us. Steve’s painted a beautiful picture and I release a sigh, wishing it was real. To have him sitting here with me, to have his lips on mine. I open my eyes to read the rest of the letter.

             Can you see it? It’s not much, but it’s what I have. Something I’ve thought about before. Something I’d love to happen.

             My fear right now is that we’ll never meet. That you won’t want to. I’m trying to stay positive. Other fears include losing those I’m close to, the world coming to an end. A world where you’re not in it. I fear that most of all.

 Patiently waiting for you,

Steve

              I can see it, Steve. I want it, I thought. I knew I was in danger of falling for him. Eager to set up a day to meet after the holidays, I checked my schedule for January. There were two weeks I was booked with dogs, but the 16th through the 20th, I would be free. Even some days towards the end of the month had some availability.

           Fate would have other plans in mind that we wouldn’t foresee in the form of coffee. As if it wanted us to meet sooner and fall faster. If I must fall, then I’d gladly fall for Steve Rogers.

[corpulentus]

All of those headcanons and scenario questions that people have been asking me since I started this blog and then some: The Compiled List

What was the best thing in your character's life? What was the worst thing in your character's life?        This is a difficult thing to answer because Torvald is still living his life into current canon, but if I don't want to be difficult about the question, here are a few ideas?

       BEST THING(S): The birth of Adelynne, When he met his first dog, Joining training with his best friend Gylfis        WORST THINGS(S): When Marek ran away, When his parents passed, When he fought Marek on the battlefield, When Marek murdered his only 2 friends in the world

What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?        Because of the way that he lives, there is not a lot of small memories that he tends to hold onto. Most things, if they don't make an intense impact one way or the other ( that being positive or negative ), he tends to easily forget them. However, there are some things that he's otehrwise forgotten that ought not to have been.

       A better way to answer this would be "what seemingly insignificant moments stuck with your character" -- This has one answer and it was the moment that Torvald had to be pulled back from dark depths by Gylfis. Torvald was about to give his blood to a dark warlock in search of his brother and Gyl swooped in and talked him out of it. It was not necessarily a threat to his life, nor was the woman that was to perform the magic particularly dangerous, but it is a moment that Torvald can never repay.

How does your character feel about sex?       Torvald is not, generally, an overly sexual person. His first thoughts upon seeing a woman are not usually of a sexual nature and, admittedly, this may have a lot to do with the fact that I, as a woman, do not know what it is to be a man or to feel about sex as a man does. However, I think this gives him his own, softer, qualities towards love and romance. Torvald would much prefer to wine and dine before intimate relations than just -- "jump right in", as it were.

       He's a good boi, okay. I love him.

What are Marek's feelings for Torvald? Does he feel any kind of sibling jealousy?        Oh Y E S.

       Marek has, of all of his adult life, all of his teenage years and some of his young childhood been very jealous of Torvald for many reasons. He was jealous of Torvald's natural talents, of his social skills, of his relationship with his friend, Gylfis, of his relationship with their parents and younger sister. Marek felt very much like he was the social outcast and was unsure of how to overcome this hurdle. Torvald was an obstacle that her felt he had to destroy or his own life would never be his own. He would always remain in the shadow of someone better and his pride would not let that happen.

       But that is merely the jealousy aspect. As far as his other emotions go, Marek feels a great deal of anger toward his brother, but he also loathes this fact about himself. However, after so many years of brainwashing and devotion to his own hatred, he has become numb to anything pleasant toward his brother. He can no longer tell if he loves his brother or if those feelings have been suppressed to the point of its self extinguishing.

After what tradition were Torvald, Marek and Adelynne named? Did their parents follow a certain idea when naming them? Would the siblings name their children after the same traditions or just go after what they like?        The trio were not named after any particular traditions or ideas. It was very much an on the spot decision for them when it came to naming their children. However, due to the lack of information given to the actual answer -- Have the literal definition of their names? Just because? IDK, have this!

       Torvald From the Old Norse name Þórvaldr, which meant "Thor's ruler" from the name of the Norse god Þórr (see THOR) combined with valdr "ruler".

       Marek Polish, Czech, and Slovak: from the West Slavic personal name Marek, a vernacular form of Latin Marcus (see Mark). Czech: from a pet form of the personal name Martin.

       Adelynne Adelyn is a new American coinage. As an invented name, Adelyn is thought to have been inspired by one of two more traditional names. The first, Adelaide, comes from the Germanic elements “adal” meaning 'noble' and “heid” meaning 'kind, sort'.

What is Adelynne's relationship with Torvald and Marek? Which of her brothers does she feel closer to emotionally ( by moral character, appearance, etc )?        Adelynne's relationship with her brothers are very different from one another, though she does love them both in a far closer measure.

       Adelynne and Torvald share a closer bond because they have spent much more time together than she and the other. They have shared in grief, loss and happiness together. They have shared in memories insurmountable by a great deal of other siblings they have encountered in their lives. It is a bond that neither would surrender for anything else in the world -- particularly now -- since they are all one another have left.

       Adelynne and Marek have a different bond. Though he left when they were still children, for all her life, Marek assured she was kept safe. It was an uncanny coincidence that was nearly becoming passed off as luck. Adelynne continued the search for Marek when Torvald was in his coma and there was always a part of her that knew he wouldn't be coming home. She has forgiven him for leaving them, but continues to struggle knowing what had happened to him and what he has done. They are destined to encounter again on the Broken Shore, but it is undetermined whether this is to take Adelynne into the rank of the LEgion, or to finally see Marek submit to his past life and have his current taken from him.

       Appearance wise, Adelynne and Torvald look much more alike than either of them look like their brother.

What are Adelynne's crafts? Does she share any interests or hobbies with her brothers? Id so, which ones?        Adelynne doesn't have any professions in the game, but she does like to collect herbs and brew elixirs in her spare time. She has used amateur potions on the field before and had Torvald test some questionable ones as well.

What is the age difference between Torvald and his siblings? How does this difference influence their relationships with eachother? How does it affect how they see one another? Torvald is 4 years older than his brother, Marek and 8 years older than his sister, Adelynne. Because they are all so close in age, it had very little in means of affecting their relationships, not nearly as much as their life views. The same is for their opinions and views on one another.

Which of the siblings is the most similar to their parents? How is this shown? Torvald is most like their father, certainly. Both he and Roderic are loyal to a fault, dedicated to their morality and their emotions and share an equal love for history and peace, in any capacity they can attain.

Adelynne is a fine blend of both their parents. Compulsive, patient and strong willed.

Marek is most like their mother. They share similar qualities, as well as Marek displaying some of the worse of the woman's dark side. He is selfish, narcasistic and greedy. He lives in a great amount of delusion, something which their mother had been prone to in her youth.

If you were not bound by the ingame models, how would you design the siblings appearance and their individual clothing styles?

Adelynne, Left. Marek, Center. Torvald, Right

What are the siblings favorite meals? Is there a reason they have these favorites? Can they cook for themselves? Do they cook for one another? Torvald's Favorite Meal: Smoked Eel, Crusty Bread and Malt Beer Marek's Favorite Meal: Rabbit ( Over A Flame ), Roasted or Raw Vegetables and Spring Water Adelynne's Favorite Meal: Roast Pork with Thyme and Rosemary, Baked Potato and Honey Milk

Torvald and Adelynne have done their fair share of cooking and enjoy it quite a lot. However, most often, Adelynne will be the one to cook meals for her brother, since her personality is generally the giving type. As far as Marek is concerned, over the years, he didn't do much in the way of eating unless it was prepared for him or it was unnecessary for him to do much work in it's preperation.

In the Warcraft Universe, what is Torvald's relationship and opinion of Orcs and those who look like them? ( Like Mar! ) So, given the fued between Orcs and Humans in Warcraft history ... You would think that Torvald would hate them, right? Well, he's one of those weird people that don't judge people by thier skin, for example, but rather, by their actions. So, follow these examples below ---

Durotan of the Frostwolves. Yeah, he would 100% be close compadres with Durotan. He is full of honor, truth and faith in his sense of morality. He is a good soul and Torvald would know this. He would perhaps even go out of his way to befriend him.

Garrosh Hellscream. Fuck. That. Guy. Torvald would most likely have been a huge part of the downfall of Hellscream were he not focused entirely on personal life matters at that point.

Mar Muthand. His favorite 'orc', honestly. She can be rough and gruff, but she has a kind heart and soul. He cares deeply for her and would rather spend his day with her than several of his own kind. But! B U T! As I said, he judges by CHARACTER, not RACE.

Does Torvald prefer to live / travel alone or with family / friends, significant others, etc? Torvald is a flip flopper when it comes to this subject. He was alone for so long, after being 100% involved in his family as a child, then he started to open himself up after he 'finally lost' his ambitions to hunt down his brother. He will definitely have his moments where he needs that time to himself and others where he needs to be in contact, he needs a hug, he needs a kiss, he needs affirmation of his worth to other people.

How does Torvald usually dress in daily life? How does Torvald usually dress for a fancy event? How does Torvald usually style his hair? What jewelry, if any, does Torvald usually wear? Torvald's Appearances are below, listed in simple forms.

Daily life includes ;; Leather boots, a pair of light cotton 'boxers', a heavier pair of leather pants and a light tunic. He carries his axe with him most places he goes, but if he isn't in need of it, it will be just an accessory.

Fancy Event includes ;; Lighter, more ornate, boots paired with sleak black trousers. Cotton boxers, of course. Something similar to his light daily life tunic, but probably with some more baubles then he might generally consider. If someone else has dressed him, like Lysirae for example, then there is no telling what he might get put into.

Hair looks are generally very much the same. He will wear it down, consider braids to keep it from his face or up in a 'man bun' as it were.

Torvald doesn't make a habit of wearing anything dangling or lose fitting when he's on the battlefield, but he does carry with him several charms from important figures in his past. He has a locket from his mother, a set of gritting gloves for his weaponry from his father and a ring from his sister, Adelynne which she made herself. At some point in his past he carried, and then lost, a knife that once belonged to his brother, Marek.

What scars, if any, does Torvald have? What tattoos, is any, does Torvald have? What birthmarks, if any, does Torvald have? Over his years, particularly during the time when he's started being actively involved in wars and conflict, he has accumulated many scars. They range in size and location, but namely he has a pair on his shoulders from a felbat that plucked him from the ground. He also has another around his upper thigh from an incident in Westfall where a pack of wild dogs latched onto him and ( the alpha ) tore pretty good at him. The rest of the wounds heal as much as they can and have not left many lasting impressions.

Torvald, in a few words, looks like a living canvas. He has many tattoos that are, generally, hidden by his clothing. It is difficult to define many of them, as they are runic in nature and resemble pagan symbolism. If you ask him about them, he will probably tell you that they were a result of a spell gone wrong, but in truth, he got them when he was searching for his brother, Marek. A lot of them look like endless loops, all of them representing major leads on his brother that ended up taking him in circles and leading him nowhere.

Torvald has no significant birthmarks.

How tall is Torvald compared to his peers? How thin/heavy is Torvald compared to his peers? Honestly, we all know already that Torvald is a pretty husky man. He's very strong and he's also very tall. He is 6'2, well over 200 pounds and he can lift 3 children with one arm ( you know, with their fingers latched around his arm and he just lifts them up while they dangle ). He is also a trained warrior who has dedicated a lot of his life to sword skill and strength training.

Now, in relation to his peers, at least the ones he has actually interacted with ( Khadgar, Lysirae, Alamor, Eryis, Mar, to name a few ) -- He is literally the tallest of everyone ( as far as my knowledge goes ). Funny, considering 3 of them are elves. He is probably also the most strongly built, looking more like an orc than a human -- minus the green skin.

Want to know more about Champion of the Alliance Torvald        CHAMPION OF THE ALLIANCE TORVALD WOULD BE GREAT FOR THE FOLLOWING REASONS

       1. Despite not being a seasoned war veteran like Genn or Varian, he does know the ins and outs of strategy and has seen battle first hand.        2. Torvald spent a great deal of his youth studying and becoming, on some level, a scholar. It undoubtedly increased his reasoning skills and put a damper on his anger and violence ( which seems only to come out when he is fighting a war). This would likely make him a good diplomat when it comes to political matters.        3. Torvald is only in his early 30s which means, with any luck, he would have a long and prosperous life ahead of him with which to attend to and fix many wrongs he has personally observed within his lifetime as a traveler.        4. Torvald is a personable person, okay. His social skills are fairly good and his ability to conform with speech of his audiences is pretty good as well. Got a rally full of people? He will just use multiple definitions. It works like a charm.        5. Torvald does not like war, but he can understand the necessity for it.        6. In a lot of ways, Torvald is the ideal mixture of Varian and Anduin.

       In short, @blizzard, Torvald Starsk for King of the Alliance 2020?

What do you see in your muses future?        Torvald, as my main muse both on tumblr and in the game, has an undetermined future. I would like to see him live into old age with a wife and family, but as we have seen before in the good ol World of Warcraft, this is not always the fate of brave and noble warriors. His fate will be determined at a later date.

        Marek is almost certainly destined to perish just before, or during, the Battle for Azeroth. His power has been robbed from him, his cause as well, and here is no returning to the Alliance for him. Though I have though on having him build his own group ( like the Twilight's Hammer ) from the ground up, I do believe he would be unsuccessful and he would be met with death regardless.

       Adelynne has recently gone through some changes that has had her leaving her comfortable home and the Cathedral of Stormwind to become a paladin. She has just begun her adventures in the world and I would like to see a lot more out of her before her life is ended. However, just as with Torvald, this is not always the case in the good ol World of Warcraft. Her fate could be determined at any time.

What is something about Torvald that annoys me?        This asshole literally finds every person he encounters a beauty to behold, okay. He could compliment you to death and then mourn for you without skipping a beat. It's almost malicious, I tell you.

       Terrible. Unnecessary.

Does Torvald have a mount that is just his? Wht is it ingame? Does this mount have a certain name? What about character and personality traits? Does it cooperate? Is it difficult? Does this mount have certain ingame details or is it completely its own being? Does the mount have its own story and relationship with Torvald that has influenced Torvald in some way? If he doesn't have a mount, how does he usually travel?         Torvald generally rides a horse in the game, but I do not canonically have a SPECIFIC mount that he would call his own.

Mag'har - How Important is freedom to Torvald? Hunter - Does Torvald have any pets? Mage - Does Torvald have any special talents? Priest - How empathetic is Torvald with others? Lightforged Draenei - Are appearances important to Torvald? Warrior - How athletic is Torvald? Shaman - Does Torvald follow any traditions? Human - Does Torvald have a personal hero? Zandalari - Is Torvald a proud person? Demon Hunter - Has Torvald ever sacrificed something?        Torvald, should he lose his freedom, would be a very different man. He would definitely become more aggressive, more manipulative and extremely intolerant to those around him. He would devote all of his time and energy into getting out of whatever means of capture this mysterious party had used to get him in the first place. ----;; In short, Torvald values his freedom greatly.

       Torvald, in his later life, after he'd 'finished' with adventuring and fighting wars, would adopt himself a Gilnean hound dog that his son, Leopold, would name Sir Woof.

       Torvald's not especially good at unusual things, but he does seem to be good at a variety of things, as it were. He is a fine person to share a battlefield with, he is a good enough strategist and he is quite knowledgeable in many historical Azerothian verse. And, I suppose, he is adept in a few languages that are not just human common. This likely comes from his interaction with many different races throughout life and his travels.

       Torvald is as empathetic as one can be without being an empath. He feels very much for other people and he does, essentially, live to serve others as best he can.

       Appearances are not particularly important to Torvald. He could be sporting a heavy load of clothing or barely anything at all and still he would feel just about the same -- If not a bit colder than if he were bundled up tight.

       Torvald can lift a grown man with his own strength from a squatted position. He is mighty strong, my friend.

       Torvald doesn't follow many traditions himself, but he participates in the Azerothian holidays when he finds time. Her particularly enjoys Brewfest and spending that extra time with his dwarven companions.

       I would say no, Torvald doesn't have a personal hero, but like most kids, he thinks his father is a pretty respectable guy. He taught him who he was meant to be and he was always there for him when he needed support the most. He also quite admires his lifelong friend, Gylfis, whom saved him from himself on more than one occasion.

       Torvald is not at all proud. He greatly values his friends and he is proud of THEM, but of himself, he is not at all proud.

       Torvald has sacrificed a lot of his own life and his own sanity throughout the years in pursuit of his brother, in particular. It cost him many years that he could have spent in happiness and joy with the rest of his family. Instead, it cost him dearly in his relationship with his parents, sister and friends as he, essentially, was completely consumed by his hunt for his brother.

What are Torvalds Ingame Professions and how do you play them In-character out in rp? Or does her ingame professions do not belong to the character ic? Does he possess professions beyond his ingame professions (Like for example not a alchemist but possess a knowledge of healing herbs and how to make healing oinments, not a smith but can recognize a proper blade or not a Tailor but knows how to sew and stitch etc etc etc...)        In the actual game, Torvald is a blacksmith and a miner, but I slack horrifically at professions in the actual game. HOWEVER, he utilizes these skills in writing quite a lot. He makes his own gear, at times, or at the very least, he improves upon and repairs his own gear. He mines and sells the smelted bars for money at times, but he also uses it to craft jewelry for gifts or further cash.

[adulttalk]

Tip Sheet: Business and Dining Etiquette

This post and any other later posts labeled as tips sheet come from a college website I found while searching around about jobs. I’m bringing it to you all to save you the hassle. Enjoy!

How you conduct yourself and treat others in a business or dining setting speaks strongly of who you are as a professional. Research worldwide tips and strategies before traveling as different cultures have different protocols.

General Tips

Use titles (Mr. Ms. Dr.), not first names until instructed to do so.  

Be on time or 5-15 minutes early. Earlier than that can be awkward and invasive.  

Prepare for meeting, developing an agenda if you are leading.  

Do not interrupt meeting agendas, but in a timely manner, be confident in concisely sharing on-topic ideas/opinions.

Do not get intoxicated at work functions.  

Do not use profanity or tell off-colored jokes.

Do not engage in office gossip.  

Bring a positive attitude and leave personal drama at home. 

Do not air work-related frustrations via social media (e.g. These people make me sick. #ISITFRIDAYYET)  

How to Approach a Group

Present yourself with confidence.

Smile and extend dominant hand.

State your name (and company).

Know how to introduce yourself (and company) in 15 to 30 seconds.

Avoid "closed" triads: two people facing shoulder to shoulder are likely having a private conversation.  

Do not fold your arms or put them in your pockets.

Greetings

Hi, Hey, Yo, What’s up?, What’s going on? are not appropriate.

Hello is appropriate.

Introducing Yourself

It is your duty to introduce yourself.

Look people in the eyes and smile in order to seem confident and approachable.

Name tags should be placed high on right shoulder.

When should you introduce yourself?

When you realize someone does not recognize you.

When attending a business or social gathering.

When seated next to someone.

When person introducing you forgets your name.

When it is a friend of a friend whom you are talking to.

Introducing Others

Use proper titles when introducing others.

Omit titles when introducing people of same rank and position.

Never introduce a co-worker/superior by first name.

Introduce person lowest on the totem pole to the one highest.

The name of the person of greater authority is spoken first.

This means you look at the most "important person" and say, "Ms. Important, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Student, an intern in our IT department. Mr. Student, this is Mr. Important, the director of technical marketing."

When dealing with people outside the company, clients are more important than company employees, and hiring managers are more important than job seekers.

If you are seated while being introduced, stand to shake hands.

Have a firm handshake, but avoid death grips.

Tell something about the person whom you introduce.

During the Conservation

Learn how to make small talk.

Be current on domestic and international events. If you’re not and the topic is brought up, say something along the lines of “I’m not familiar with the topic but I would enjoy learning more about it.”

Know what events impact your company or client’s.

Ask questions that focus on other person, not you.

Do not interrupt and/or finish people’s sentences.

Avoid conversations about health or diet habits, cost of things, personal life, gossip, off-color jokes and controversial issues.

Don't gaze around room in a conversation—it's rude and makes other person feel insignificant.

Do not touch others unless you know them well.

Ending a Conversation

Do not just walk away if you see someone more interesting— ALWAYS make a closing statement before moving on:  

"Please excuse me. It was nice talking with you."

"It was really a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to seeing you again soon."

“I enjoyed talking with you. I hope to see you soon.”

Summarize, "Oh, it looks like you have a fascinating job and I wish you good luck on your project.”

If graceful disengagement doesn't work, be more direct: "I see it is really getting late and I really must go,” then back up physically. As a last result, say a parting statement while you are shaking hands and saying good-bye.

Business Cards

Always have enough and carry in a case.

Should not be wrinkled, written on, outdated or dirty.

Present the card with the print facing the recipient.

Your name should be the largest print on the card.

Don’t write on business cards in front of others.

Don’t exchange business cards while dining.

Never pass them out like you are dealing cards.

It is polite to comment on card before putting it away rather than immediately stashing it in a pocket without looking at it

If someone offers you their business card, offer yours in return

Before offering your business card, first say, “May I give you my card?”

Do not force your card on anyone or offer it too early in a conversation

Let senior executives ask for your card. Do not offer it to them.

Meetings/Networking Events 

 It is polite to offer to pay if asked to a lunch/dinner meeting. However, whoever extends the invitation typically pays. 

Know why you are attending and who you want to meet. 

Bring business cards; Remember you represent your company. 

Do not carry a bag or notebook that fills your hands. 

Step to the right when you enter room, pausing to first observe.

Greet hosts first, if possible but do not monopolize their time. 

Introduce yourself to others, not just talking to people you know.

 Do not immediately head for the bar or food; don’t go hungry.

 Avoid foods that are messy or can’t be eaten in one bite. 

Hold food or drink in left hand to leave right hand open. 

Write a thank-you note within 24 hours. 

Work Relationships: 

Co-workers

Cooperate and develop a relationship of mutual support.

Focus on positive qualities and potential of co-workers (strengths, not weaknesses). 

Be friendly, but do not join a clique.

Spend time observing how people act, who performs well and who takes a positive view toward the job and organization. 

Beware of the gripers and avoid office gossip. 

Do not talk about co-workers behind their backs. 

Voice concerns, challenges and accomplishments.

 Remember that a peer may someday be your boss or you his. 

 Be nice, polite and friendly to everyone, including individuals who work outside of your department. 

Observe organization’s gift giving policy and be discreet when exchanging gifts if only exchanging with a few coworkers. Work Relationships: 

Supervisors 

 Approach tasks with a willing attitude. 

Enthusiastically complete “grunt” assignments. 

Demonstrate poise and maturity in everything you do. 

Ensure quality work is completed on-time. 

Supervisors are your ally, not your enemy. 

Supervisors train and develop; they aren’t best friends.

 Do not ask supervisor for personal and financial advice. 

 Cell Phones 

 Turn your phone off during meetings. 

Invest in a watch so you don’t check phone for time.

 Avoid answering in restaurants. If expecting important call, let those you are dining with know, and leave table to answer. 

In public, be aware of voice volume and move at least two arm lengths away from those around you (or out of the room). 

The people you are with should take precedence over calls. 

If you expect a call that can’t be postponed, alert your companions ahead of time.

Public phone conversations are not private. 

Email Etiquette 

 Craft a compelling subject line. 

Treat email like a business letter; always be professional. 

Keep it short and simple. 

Use proper spelling, grammar and punctuation. 

Never send an email when you’re angry.

 Email is NOT confidential and can be forwarded. 

Read it and check your spelling before sending it. 

Confirm attachment you intended to attach is attached.

 Answer an email within 24 hours. 

 General Dining Etiquette 

Do not order foods that are eaten with your hands.

 Pass food from left to right (counterclockwise). 

If asked for the salt or pepper, pass both. 

 Never season food before tasting it. 

 Food is served from the left, dishes removed from the right. 

Butters, spreads or dips should be transferred to your serving dish before spreading or eating. 

Do not ask for a “to-go box” unless it is an informal situation.  

For hard to scoop items, use bread, not your finger, to push items onto fork.  

If hot food is burning mouth, discretely drink something cool.

 Napkins belong in your lap. 

If you leave table, loosely fold your napkin (do NOT refold your napkin or wad it up) and place it beside your dinner plate. 

Meeting materials or briefcases should be left under your chair until it is time to discuss business.  

Do not ask to taste or offer to let others taste your food. 

Do not blow nose at the table. Politely excuse yourself. 

Casual Dining Exceptions 

 You may order foods that are eaten with your hands. 

 When sharing chips and salsa, you don’t have to transfer salsa to your plate, but do not double dip.   

Leaving a Tip 

 Fifteen to 20 percent of the bill total is customary, but for exemplary service, a greater percentage is accepted. 

For poor service, ask to speak to the manager; still tip. 

Place Setting Tips 

 General rule: use silverware from outside in as meal progresses. 

When finished, do not push plate away. Instead place fork and knife across the center of the plate, handles to the right.

Between bites, your fork and knife are placed on the plate, handles to the right, not touching the table. 

1. Napkin

2. Salad Fork

3. Dinner fork

4. Dessert Utensil

5. Dinner Plate

6. Dinner Knife

7. Teaspoon

8. Bread Plate

9. Bitter Knife

10. Water glass

11. Wine Glass

[parkhabits]

Dating Lessons {Part 1/2}

GOT7 Jaebum x Reader Genre: Bartender!JB / Fluff/ Angst / Suggestive  Warning: No real warnings… just coarse language. The real warnings come in part 2 Word Count: 11k+ A/N: i’m drowning in Jaebum feels. someone help me. I broke down this “one shot” into two parts because I realized it was getting really long. Part 2 will be released as soon as I can!  (I should be studying for my final). ALSO mature content to follow…

Part 2:

Summary: 

You never imagined that you would request help on your dating game, especially from the random bartender you barely knew. Could he do it? Would he be able to transform you into a tempting seductress who would have men falling at your feet? Jaebum always liked a challenge when it came to women, he just never thought that this sort of challenge would arise. He closed himself off from love, but would he be able to help you find it? 

To say you were out of your comfort zone was an understatement. You never came to a place like this but there was a reason you sat waiting at the bar amongst the dimmed lighting and musky surroundings. The man you had been seeing for the last couple of weeks had asked to meet you. You were excited, the feeling that circulated your surroundings was intimate. You hoped things were finally going to progress between you and Hanbin. You had hoped that this was the moment where he might actually ask you to be his girlfriend. In truth, you had fallen for him so hard and fast and it surprised you that he had even spent time with a woman like you. You were the type that  preferred comfort over style,  always wondering how other women had the time and motivation to go beyond the basics of mascara and foundation. In short, you were completely opposite from the women you expected him to be interested in. He was already fifteen minutes late but you figured it may have been traffic. Then you started getting carried away with your imagination, maybe he was stopping by to get you flowers or a gift. The thought of him showing up with your favourite flowers in hand had you flushing, the giddiness spreading over you.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” The dark haired bartender asked you while setting a coaster down in front of you.

Jaebum wondered if he should have asked you for ID first. You looked a lot younger than most of the other women who frequented a place like this. aEven the way you acted was as if it was your first time ever in a bar. However, the sound of your honeyed voice and your taste in wine hinted to him otherwise.

“Do you have riesling?”

He grinned, “I’m sure I can crack open a bottle.” He placed the wine glass in front of you then proceeded to uncork the bottle of wine. You continued to glance around the bar, shifting in your seat to view the entrance and sitting straight up whenever someone walked in only to slouch back in your seat.

“Waiting for someone?” he asked as he started to pour the wine for you.

“My boyfriend,” you answered, preoccupied while watching the door. Then you caught yourself, “I mean, friend. A guy that I’ve been seeing, who’s not my boyfriend but that I hope to be my boyfriend. I think we’re taking the next step.” You rambled. “We’ve been seeing each other for a couple weeks.We’re probably getting serious.”

Jaebum smiled, “Congrats.” His attention diverted to the brunette that sat on the other side of the bar who he noticed was staring at him throughout the night. Now that was the type of woman he was used to seeing here. She differed from you in which she wore her tight fitting top and no doubt her push up bra that accentuated the swells of her breast through the dipping neckline. Jaebum had been part of this scene long enough that he started developing a sense of people. The man in the rugged grey suit who had requested a bottle of Jack’s was obviously drowning his misery. Job lay off? Divorce? Middle aged crisis? Either or Jaebum knew to avoid going there as much as as possible unless he wanted to get his ear talked off and lectured about when the man was as young as Jaebum once. The man who ordered two dirty martinis who kept facing away from the bar and looking out to the rest of lounge was obviously on the prowl. Looking for a woman who would most likely be out of his league to hit on. Jaebum would keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t make any unwelcome advances on women. The sultry brunette who had been eyeing JB through the top of her glass. No doubt by the end of the night she would try and slip him her number or if she was bold enough she would even ask him what time he’s off. Some days, depending on his mood he would take them upstairs to his loft where he lived. Then there was you. In a place like this you stood out. You looked like you were meant to be at home snuggled on the couch, the cream sweater you wore doing little to accentuate your curves, if you had them.

Twenty minutes had passed and Jaebum still noticed that you sat there by yourself. Anxiously waiting for your soon- to- be boyfriend to arrive. He had seen this many times before, you were getting stood up. He felt sympathy towards you after seeing your excitement earlier. He was about to walk over to you and offer to pour you another drink to console you when a tall, well dressed man wearing a suit came and sat beside you. That was another type that hung around places like this. Well off no doubt, as he noticed the extravagant watch on his wrist. He noticed how excited you had become and Jaebum smiled to himself. In all his years working here something always managed to surprise him. Good for you two. It was a nice change for once to see such polar opposites be together. The man beside you held up his hand, snapping his fingers at Jaebum and signalling him to come and take his order. Typical, treating him like a dog yet Jaebum put on a face as he walked over.

“What can I get you?” He said laying out the coaster.

“Whiskey,” Hanbin ordered barely acknowledging Jaebum, his eyes scanning the rest of the lounge.

“Was traffic bad?” you asked Hanbin.

“Hmm? Oh no, it was smooth sailing.” Hanbin answered. Jaebum set the tumbler down in front of Hanbin and then proceeded to top up your glass with more wine. Then why was he late? Jaebum thought in his head.

Hanbin sipped at the whiskey then scrunched up his face, “You think they’d have better quality,” he muttered under his breath. Jaebum pretended not to hear it as he wiped down the counter near you two. “Anyways Y/N, I’m sure you probably know why I wanted to meet you here.” He grinned at you and you felt the flutter in your chest.

Jaebum didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he found it intriguing. He lingered by you two, acting as if he was preoccupied with wiping the glasses and stacking them.

“I think I do know why,” you bit your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Actually the reason I was late was because I was getting this,” Hanbin said as he started reaching into his pocket.

This was it. Your big moment and what was going to be the start of your new relationship with Hanbin. The last time you been in a relationship was the summer after your first year in college with your chemistry lab partner Jinyoung. You didn’t even know if you would consider it a relationship or just a summer fling considering two hadn’t even really dated or gone out in public. Most of your time together had been spent in bed. The physical chemistry was completely there but emotionally, you two were on different pages. Hanbin was smart, charming and a well known successful entrepreneur. You were even surprised that a man like him had even approached you in the first place. You had to admit that he wooed you just by saying ‘hello’. Now three weeks after your first meeting and after multiple dinner dates where you spent the evening being wined and dined with in depths conversations about his work things were about to progress. Eagerly you waited for his little surprise, the anticipation growing more and more.

“Here it is,” he grinned.

You tried to mask the confusion on your face when he pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. Then you softened, did he write a letter confessing his feelings for you? You didn’t peg Hanbin as the soft romantic type.

You grinned up at him, “Hanbin you didn’t have to do this kind of gesture. All you had to do was just ask,” you started unfolding the piece of paper.

“I didn’t know if that would be too forward,” Hanbin sipped at his whiskey then tapped against his glass, signalling Jaebum for another refill.

Reluctantly Jaebum started to fill the tumbler. Glancing at you from the corner of his eyes to watch your reaction and to see what he had prepared for you. When the tumbler was full Hanbin waved his hand, dismissing Jaebum. The annoyance started to build up within him, who did this guy think he was and what were you doing with some pompous jerk. Still despite being “dismissed” Jaebum lingered near you two, now even more intrigued.

“Don’t be silly Hanbin. I wouldn’t find it-” you paused when you finally read the letter. This was not a note of endearment confessing his feelings for you. You looked at him to see him staring back at you eagerly.

“I was thinking you can pass it to your father. I heard he’s looking for new investment opportunities and so I drafted a business plan that he could look into.”

“A business plan,” you repeated, staring blankly at him.

He nodded, taking another big gulp of whiskey. “It’ll be the perfect opportunity for development and certainly worth his money.” you continued you stare at him. “And you know Y/N…” he flashed his grin at you, “I was thinking you can talk to him since we’re both acquaintances.”

“Acquaintances?” you repeated him once again. You knew it was too good to be true. Hanbin hadn’t approached you for you. He had approached you because of your father and your father’s money. You felt hurt, almost betrayed. All that time spent together was not for Hanbin and you to develop a relationship but for him to grease his way into a meeting with your father.

Hanbin noticed the expression on your face change, “Y/N, you weren’t expecting something else were you? I mean, this is just business between the two of us,” He gulped the remaining contents of his drink. “I mean, you aren’t the usual type I would go for but I wouldn’t mind a quick f-”

“More whiskey?” Jaebum interrupted. He had heard everything and guessed that Hanbin’s next proposition wasn’t about to be a business one.

Hanbin shifted his glass towards Jaebum, “Watch it!” Hanbin said yanking his hand away when Jaebum had “accidently” spilt on his hand.

Jaebum looked at you, “More wine?”  You shook your head, focusing your attention back to Hanbin and what he was about to say to you, feeling the anger build up. “What was it you were about to say?”

That caught Jaebum off guard, were you naive?

Hanbin reached for your hand, “I was going to propose a deal. You be a good girl and give your father my business proposal and set up a meeting with him and I. Then to commemorate I’ll reward you with a good fuck. You would like that wouldn’t you?” His words had begun to slur and you could smell the whiskey from his breath. What had made you so attracted to this guy in the first place?

Jaebum cursed under his breath, about to interject and say something but you spoke first. “You know what, Hanbin,” you smiled at him and watched as the glimmer of hope crossed his face, “Go fuck yourself.” You said as you pulled your hand away from his, reaching for his whiskey glass and splashing the contents directly to his face.

You could see the bartender smirk from the corner of your eyes. The rest of the lounge focused their attention towards your little show.  “And no. I will not be giving this business proposal to my father because he has better things to invest his money into,” You said ripping up the plan.

“You bitch,” Hanbin sputtered, “Hey you, give me a napkin will ya?”

“Sorry, I don’t think it’s quality enough for you,” Jaebum said sarcastically.

“Screw this,” Hanbin stormed out of the lounge.

When Hanbin was gone and out of sight you sunk in your seat, breathing out a sigh of relief. Even if you looked like you were composed at that moment you weren’t and you were even surprised you managed not to miss. Your hands were shaking so much from anger and nerves.

“You idiot. Stupid stupid stupid,” you mumbled to yourself, running your hands over your face and then fisting them into your hair.  Then you groaned resting your head against the counter. “What is my luck with men?”

Jaebum smiled, he was impressed with the you, watching you throw the whiskey in his face had been extremely satisfying to watch. Then when you ripped up the business plan and told that dirtbag to go fuck himself Jaebum felt a sense of pride and it was strange. Just who were you?

You looked up at the bartender across from you, the color rising to your cheeks. “Do you have anything stronger than this?”

Jaebum chuckled, “You bet,” he said as he set out another glass for you. Instead of giving you just plain hard liquor he started mixing his own concoction. Thinking of the flavours he thought you might like, basing it off your taste in wine.

You watched the way he poured a mixing of contents into the cocktail shaker. Then as he mixed the drink, you noted the way the white dress shirt strained against his body as he moved. The buttons of his sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearm flexing with each movement. Your eyes lingered to his face, a sharp defined jawline but soft eyes. You would have noticed him earlier if you hadn’t wasted your thoughts on Hanbin. He was handsome no doubt, and the way the busty brunette eyed him you knew you had no chance.  

He poured the drink into the glass in front of you and you smiled at him, “Thanks. Sorry about the scene earlier.”

“It’s okay. Sorry he was such a jerk.” He watched as you took a sip from the high ball he created, and was satisfied when your face lit up in response.

“Excuse me,” the brunette signalled for Jaebum, impatient and annoyed that he wasn’t giving her the attention she wanted.

“One second,” he said as he made his way over to the busty brunette.

He leaned over the counter. You watched the two of them interact as you sipped at your drink, she would giggle and then place her hand on his forearm. Brushing her hair behind her shoulders no doubt to give him a full view of her cleavage. She would bite her bottom lip whenever he spoke and whisper into his ear in response. That was one thing you didn’t have. Game. How did one flirt so casually like that and pick up guys from the bar? You started feeling the buzz build, although the highball he had fixed you tasted like juice it packed a punch as you felt your insides warm. The tingling feeling making its way throughout your body and numbing the unpleasant experience with Hanbin. You watched as she paid for her bill and as she got up from her seat you saw her slide the white napkin towards him and you already knew she was giving him her number. He winked at her, casually taking the napkin and sliding it into his pocket. When he turned he made eye contact with you and you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, shifting your attention back to your empty glass.

“Sorry, that took longer than expected,” the bartender who’s name you had yet to learn said. “Can I get you another?”

You nodded, feeling the alcohol run through your system sending you into a type of euphoria. “I bet that happens often,” you mused resting your elbows on the bar as you watched him fix you another drink.

“A few times.”

You sighed, “I wish I had moves like that.”

“She didn’t have moves,” he chuckled.

You cocked your eyebrow, “She didn’t? But she slipped you her number and you were totally flirting with her too.”

“I figured she’d tip good,” he shrugged, setting the glass down in front of you. He rested against the counter, “She knew how to work her body language that’s for sure.”

“So what should she have done differently?” You leaned in, intrigued.

“Giggled less,” he joked.

You laughed, “No seriously,”

Jaebum paused to think about it. Trying to think of a serious answer to give you. “Let me put this metaphorically,” he smiled and leaned in, “Let’s say someone had a basket of the best apples and someone was interested in those apples.” You waited to see where he was going with this “And the person gave all of those apples to the one interested. What would keep them coming back?”

You caught onto what he was trying to say. Then you smiled, “Let me guess. Her breasts are the apples,” Thinking of how her shirt dipped extremely low leaving little for the imagination.

He grinned and held up his hands in defense, “I didn’t say it. You did.”

You sighed, “Well maybe if I start wearing low cut shirts my luck with men will turn around,”

“Are all guys you date like that asshole?” Jaebum asked.

You took another full sip from your drink and shook your head, “That asshole was the first guy I dated in six years,” using your fingers to put air quotes around the word.

Jaebum whistled, “You’ve been out of the dating game a long time. What happened? Rough breakup? Wanted to focus on your career first?”

“I wish that was my excuse. I suck at dating,” you shrugged, “It’s so complicated. How do people even meet someone and start dating?” The alcohol was starting to buzz through your system.

“A lot of ways. You could even meet someone at the bar and have them randomly approach you and offer you a drink.”

“Is that what you would do?”

“It’s part of my job,” Jaebum grinned, “I’m sure your luck will start turning around.”

“Would you date me?” The alcohol in your system starting to take over your actions before you could even process things. As soon as you realized what you said you ran your hands over your face, “Sorry, that was lame. See, I have no game.” You hiccuped.

Jaebum chuckled, “Maybe you need lessons. And to answer your question, I don’t date women whose name I don’t know.”

You smiled, “I’m Y/N.”

He held out his hand, “I’m Jaebum.”

You shook his hand, “Now will you date me?” You teased.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not your type.”

“Oh really? And what is my type?” You cocked your eyebrow. .

“Reliable, committed, wants to settle down and have a family and a dog,” Jaebum grinned.

“And you don’t want a dog?” You pretended to gasp in shock.

He smiled back at you, “I prefer the lone lifestyle,”

“So you don’t date?”

“I date, I just don’t commit.” Jaebum admitted, picking up the empty glass in front of you. After one experience, he learned it’s better to not invest all your feelings into someone because in the end you just get hurt.

“Fear of commitment?” You asked.

“Just don’t see the benefit in relying on anyone else but myself,” he shrugged, not wanting to open up old wounds. “Do you want another?” He asked

You shook your head, “I think I’ve reached my limit for the night,” you stood up, losing your balance as you did so. Jaebum reached across the bar, grabbing onto your hand.

“Are you okay to go home?”

You nodded, “I’ll call a cab and be fine,” you reached for your purse, “How much is my tab?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house,” he smiled.

“Are you serious? Won’t you get in trouble?” You looked at him in disbelief.

Jaebum smiled, “Don’t worry about it. My boss and I are pretty close. I’m sure he’ll understand”

You frowned, “Are you pitying me because of my sad dating life?”

Once again he held his hands up in defense, “You said it not me,” he laughed.

“Well thank you. I’ll take your advice too, I won’t give all my apples away,” you winked, “If I have any apples to offer,” you muttered under your breath.

“Yeah it’s hard to see under that sweater,”Jaebum teased hearing what you said.

You shook your head at him and laughed, “Thanks again.”

“Nice meeting you Y/N,” Jaebum waved, already noticing through the corner of his eye the greasy guy from earlier not getting the hint from the two girls sitting on the couch. He sighed, “Please, no fists today.” he said as he walked over to intervene.

He preferred evening shifts over day shifts. Who even came to bars during the day? Despite that, he felt guilty for leaving Felix to man the bar by himself so he opted to work although the day was slow. Normally, there was an afternoon lunch time rush but only a few people had trickled in. He used the afternoon lull to go over the stock and start making count for the next order.

“Jaebum, you have a phone call,” Felix called over.

Jaebum looked up from the order sheet, “For me? Who is it?”

Felix shrugged, “It’s a woman and that’s as far as I know.”

“Take over count for me,” Jaebum said as he passed along the order sheet to Felix and swapped with him for the phone. “Hello?”

“Jaebum? Hey. It’s Y/N from the other night,” there was a pause, “the one who splashed whiskey in that asshole’s face.” You clarified.

“Yes, I remember. What’s up?” he chuckled.

“I was.. Just wondering if you’re working today?” you stuttered, “Ah, I guess since I’m talking to you and I called the bar, I answered my own question.” You rambled.

“You called me to see if I was working? Why?”

You sighed, “I need your help.”

Jaebum could picture you in his head, pacing back and forth and smiled at the thought. “With?”

“Will you still be around by five?”

Jaebum glanced at his watch, five was the beginning of happy hour and he wasn’t planning to work the shift considering Felix was working a double and two other bartenders were coming in but he found himself intrigued,  “Sure, I’ll be around.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you later!”  You hung up.

Felix walked over, “So who’s the lady caller?”

Jaebum took the order sheet back from him, “Just a woman who came into the bar a few nights ago.”

“Ah, another one of your conquests?” Felix teased.

Jaebum laughed, “Get back to work, kid. ” He started checking over Felix’s inventory count to verify for himself. “By the way, I’m sticking around for happy hour.”

Felix looked at him, “Is happy hour going to be a lot happier because your lady caller is coming in? Is she hot? ”

Jaebum hesitated, “She’s not your type.”

Felix grinned, “I thought you knew me by now. Female is my type. If you aren’t interested you can always push her into my direction.”

Jaebum thought about the way you told that sleazeball from the other night off and grinned, “Trust me. You won’t be able to handle her.”

Once again you found yourself walking into the intimate surroundings of the bar. A live band playing and the lounge filled with more people than last time. Most of them still dressed in their business casual attire stopping by for a quick drink before heading home and enjoying the socialization of happy hour. You wormed your way through crowd, keeping an eye on the empty chair at the bar. When you sat down you searched for Jaebum. You couldn’t believe you were here and about to ask for his help. You didn’t know the guy. All you knew was that his name was Jaebum, he was a bartender and that he has a way with women. You didn’t even know if he would agree to what you were about to request.

It didn’t surprise you when you saw him there, leaning against the bar counter talking to not just one but two women. Did those two women have game? Or were they giving away all their apples as Jaebum had put it before.

“What can I get you?” The young copper haired bartender asked.

“Riseling please,” you ordered.

You debated if you should tell him to let JB know you were here but you decided against it. Not wanting to interrupt his moment with the two ladies, in fact you wanted to observe the two women, study their body language and see if you could imitate any of their actions.

Jaebum could barely focus on the conversation with the two ladies in front of him.  He wondered if it was because he had been working and standing for more than eight hours or if it was because he was curious about what you needed help with.

“As we were saying,” the blonde in front of him leaned in, “Both my friend and I are from out of town and we’re looking for someone to show us a good time,” she hinted, biting her lower lip as her gaze trailed down his torso. Her red-haired friend giggled, stroking her fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass.

Jaebum was about to respond when Felix brushed passed him, “Sorry, to interrupt I just need to get the bottle of riesling,”

As soon as Jaebum heard he glanced down the bar and saw you sitting there. “I’ll take care of it Felix. Excuse me ladies,” he said grabbing the bottle under the bar and walking towards you, leaving the two women gaping after him in shock. This time instead of a baggy cream sweater, you wore a chic black turtleneck, your hair in a loose low bun.

“You should have told me you arrived,” Jaebum greeted as he started to pour your wine.

You smiled, “I didn’t want to interrupt you,” You said motioning to the two women who had started to glare at you.

“Ah, they’re from out of town or something,” he glanced back towards them, fully aware that he had just passed on an opportunity to spend the night with not one, but two women with no strings attached. However, the curiosity of what you needed help with had been eating at him since you hung up.

You sipped at your wine, “Okay, I’ll just cut to the chase.”

“Okay,” he said leaning in, relaxing his posture.

“Remember when I was talking about my pitiful dating life and you said something like ‘maybe you need lessons’. Well, I want you to help me date.” You put forth.

“What?”

“I just…” You stuttered, already embarrassed that you had made this sort of request in the first place. “Look, you’re a man.”

���Yeah,”

“And from what I’ve seen you seem to know women, and how women should act and I’m just going to say it but I have no game at all. As you could probably tell and from what you have witnessed.  I know you don’t know me but I promise I’m a good person just looking for love. So please will you mentor me and teach me how to date.” By the end of your little spiel you were out of breath.

Jaebum remained silent for a second, trying to process everything you were saying. “So let me get this straight. You want me,” he said pointing to himself, “To help you date?” he said pointing back towards you.

You finished the remaining contents of your wine, “Yes.”

“Surely you can’t be that bad,” Jaebum tried to reassure.

You shook your head and laughed, “I’m horrible,”

“What about online dating? Speed dating?”

You continued to shake your head, “I’ve tried all that. Nothing is working.”

It sounded like a ridiculous request but as you sat in front him laughing at yourself Jaebum found himself considering it. Although what did he really know? He couldn’t recall the last time he had ever taken a woman out on a date or got to know more about her other than her drink preferences and what was underneath her clothes. It surprised him that you had even thought about asking him, a random stranger who you had met. He had to admit though that it took a lot of guts for you to make such a request and maybe that even stemmed from desperation. He personally couldn’t figure out what the big deal about dating and relationships were but to each their own. He pondered it over, analyzing you as you sat in front of him. Could he do it? Would he be able to transform you into a tempting seductress who would have men falling at your feet?  Jaebum always liked a challenge when it came to women, he just never anticipated that this sort of challenge would arise. It was tempting to say the least.

“Alright, I’ll help you.” He caved in, the intrigue pulling him into make the final decision.

“Really?” you grinned with excitement. “Thank you! What can I do to repay you?”

“You can repay me by buying me dinner tonight,” Jaebum said loosening the collar of his shirt. “I’ve been working for more than eight hours and I’m starved.”

“That’s it? Sure, when are you off?”

“Now.” Jaebum said tossing the cloth that was thrown over his shoulder off to the side.

“You can’t just leave you’re in the middle of a shift” You gaped at him, “First you give me free drinks and now you just up and leave during your shift. You’re sure to get fired,”

“It’s pretty hard to fire myself,” Jaebum chuckled, “Felix! I’m heading out for the night. You’re in charge of closing up.” Jaebum called.

“Sure thing, boss” Felix waved.

You stared at him in shock as you watched him make his way around the bar. “Shall we?” he said pointing towards the exit.

“You own this place?”

Jaebum nodded, “I guess if I’m helping you, we’ll get to know each other more.” He grinned.

There were so many driving factors that had pushed you to ask Jaebum for help with dating. Your incident with Hanbin had been one of them. Another was during family dinner when they discussed your little cousin Lily’s upcoming wedding and how you should “bring a date”. Short after that your little sister had made side comments about how her older sister would turn into a cat lady. Your father had tried to defend you by saying that if you had no significant other at least someone would be able to hold the family name, which did little to boost your ego. The tip of the iceberg had been when you had run into an old friend who kept raving on and on about her new happily married life. She tried to stick her nose into your dating life, and even gave you a pity pat on your shoulder saying how “not everyone is meant to find someone. At least you’re a strong independent woman.” That had been the tipping point for you. Her words had meant to be comforting but all you felt was bitterness.

Why Jaebum of all people?  One, was that he seemed to know a lot about women and women seemed to flock towards him. If he was able to tell you the dos and don'ts of what women can do to get a man’s attention that could aid you in your quest for love. As cheesy as it sounded. Second, Jaebum was a complete stranger. If he had said no then that was that. You would never have to see him again and face the humiliation that you had made such a request. You still couldn’t believe he had agreed. That night when you two had gone out for dinner you were expecting instant advice and him to just dive right into it, thinking it’d be a one night lesson however that wasn’t the case. During dinner he had gotten to know you a little more or rather interviewed you. What you did for living, family dynamics, past relationships and the type of men you were into. After that Jaebum had asked you what your end goal was out of this. Did you want to just date as many men as possible? Was there a timeline? To which you responded that you were just in search for a good guy, that could possibly lead to a long term relationship. You didn’t know about marriage and all those future details. All you knew was that you wanted someone you could go to talk about your day, to go out and have dinner with and sweet walks with in the evening. Who checked up on you just to hear your voice and send you flowers at the most random times. Romance, that’s what you needed and you threw in intimacy. You clarified with him that you didn’t mean intimacy in the ‘you wanted to get laid’ kind of way but just intimacy related to companionship. There was no deadline for this to happen and you weren’t expecting to instantly get a guy. However, if you did happen to get one before your cousin’s wedding that’d be a bit of a bonus. You had expected Jaebum to laugh at all your answers and tease you. Maybe even say it’s unrealistic but he had listened intently. Taking you seriously when you might not have if someone had said those answers to you. You didn’t know what was driving him to help you. He clarified that he didn’t want anything in return.

Weeks had passed and you had found yourself visiting the bar at least once or twice a week. You had frequented the bar so often that even the rest of the staff started to know who you were, already setting out a glass of riesling before you would even order. While Jaebum worked you would sit there, scribbling down notes on a notepad so you would remember little things he would tell you. Jaebum always teased you saying it wasn’t necessary and that you were being too keen but you wanted to gain as much from this experience as possible. His advice or “lessons” were simple. If the guy doesn’t make the effort to see you or speak to you he isn’t worth it. He will make it happen. You loved when he reminisced on a story of when he was in high school, long before social media and texting how he would sit inside a convenience store, drinking strawberry milk just to see his crush walk past every day after school. You couldn’t picture it now, Jaebum waiting for a woman to notice him. Every time you had come into the bar he managed to grab the attention of at least one woman. Other time’s Jaebum’s advice had been put metaphorically. He had once said that dating is like shopping. You think you find the right pair of jeans but when you put them on they don’t fit right no matter how much you like the idea of the pants. You keep trying to find a way to make it work, squeezing into them, trying to change yourself to fit the look of the jeans. When really you should just move on, let go of the idea  and try on others. The main point that he said was to not try and change yourself just for that one pair of jeans when there are others or in this case, don’t change yourself for that one man.

When you had initially asked Jaebum to teach you how to get into the dating game you would have assumed it would have been like the movies you see on tv. The ones where the guy or girl go through drastic changes, makeovers looking like a completely new person but that wasn’t the case with Jaebum. In fact, nothing about your physical appearance changed. There was a time when you walked into the bar, a shopping bag full of cosmetics.

“You don’t need all that,” Jaebum said placing a crate full of freshly washed glasses on the counter.

“The lady at the store said if I use this thing called ‘highlight’ it would make me glow, or something like that.” You shrugged.

“ I don’t see how adding more makeup would fix your dating game. You’re already beautiful.” Jaebum shrugged as he started wiping down the glasses.

Your jaw dropped when he said that, “You just called me beautiful,”

“What, you never had a guy say that to you before?”  Jaebum grinned as he started wiping down the glasses.

“Not any guy who wasn’t my relative. Do you really think so? You aren’t just being nice about it?” You pushed.

Jaebum paused what he was doing to look at you. You shifted in your seat as you watched his eyes trail over you and felt a clutch in your stomach when his gaze stopped at your lips for a split second, then it continued down. You tugged at the plain white t-shirt you wore, feeling yourself magnified under his gaze. You hoped that he had really meant it, but you didn’t know why him saying that affected you so much.

Jaebum broke his gaze reaching for another glass and started to continue what he was doing before, “Yeah, you’re beautiful.”  He commented.

There were many moments throughout the time you had spent with Jaebum that left you feeling shook. The first time he said you were beautiful was the top of your list. It hadn’t just been about receiving dating tips from him. In the short amount of time that you had spent with Jaebum, you truly enjoyed his company. You frequented the bar often but it wasn’t the only place where you and Jaebum spent time together. Some nights you would go out for dinner if he had enough staff to man the bar, sometimes a quick bite for lunch when he’d show up unexpectedly at your work. If you two both had a long day, a night in either at his loft or your place had become a thing. He had become more than acquaintance, he had become a friend.

Jaebum didn’t understand why you felt like you needed to come to him for advice on dating. If anything he thought what you needed to work on was your confidence. That had been his number one tip that he frequently told you. You were intelligent, funny, cute and beautiful though you found it hard to believe even after he had openly admitted it.  

“So why the fear of commitment?” You said reaching over to the box and grabbing another slice of pizza.

“What?” Jaebum’s attention moved from the tv to you.

You were the first woman to ever have come to his loft more than once. On the nights where he wasn’t manning the bar you two would spend your “lessons” upstairs at his place. He didn’t complain, you were the one bringing over takeout or on the rare occasion even cooking dinner for the both of you. He glanced at you, already you had made yourself more than comfortable in his place already familiar with your surroundings from being over so often. You sat there cross-legged on his sofa, you even helped yourself to wearing one of his sweatshirts and he watched as you ate your third slice of pizza. Once again he noted how different you were from the women that frequented the bar or the ones that he usually had come over. That was another thing, ever since you two had started spending time together he hadn’t been with any other woman. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why he kept turning down the opportunities but oddly enough he was okay with it.

You bit into the pizza, wiping at the corner of your mouth with your thumb. “Way back when I met you said you don’t rely on anyone else other than yourself. Why is that?”

“I just have my reasons,” Jaebum shrugged thinking about old wounds.

“Come on, I talk to you about my lame dating life. Spill,” you prodded.

Jaebum sighed and you knew that you had cracked him though you weren’t expecting he’d give in so easily. You set aside the slice of pizza and folded your knees against your chest getting into a more comfortable position.

“It’s your typical story. I fell in love, gave her almost everything I had only to have everything fall to pieces and left with nothing but that empty void for a while.” you watched as a far off look came into his eyes. “After that I see no reason nor do I wish to invest my feelings into anyone else.”  There was a silence between you two, the tv playing in the background but neither of you paid attention. It was a long time ago yet the wounds felt fresh. Since then Jaebum kept himself guarded and at a distance from any other feeling besides lust. Only accepting the basic desire that everyone craved but not letting it delve beyond that.

It was sudden and out of the blue but the next thing Jaebum realized was that you had moved and wrapped your arms around him. Your body was soft against his, there was a faint smell of lavender from your perfume, something he never noticed you wore before.  

“I know this is weird,” You murmured resting your head into the crook of his neck. Taking in the subtle scent of fresh linen. “I just felt the need to comfort you. Thank you for sharing with me.”  You wouldn’t have thought to associate this scent with him, you were expecting him to smell of sandalwood but that wasn’t the case. Fresh linen, reminding you of comfort except masculine and something about it had you wondering what he would taste like it. His lips. There were so many times where you had found your gaze focused on his mouth as he talked to you. As your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders a feeling of yearning delved deep into your body.  It had been so long since you even had any form of physical contact with a man.

Comfort. Jaebum ruminated over that word. Something he never sought or had other than in the forms of physical needs. When he thought back on the empty feeling he had felt before, the distrust he experienced and betrayal he had never thought that anything or anyone could ease that feeling and negativity he had. Yet, with you in his arms he felt it. Comfort. That new and sudden realization now brought forth something else in him and he couldn’t have that. He wouldn’t allow it.

He cleared his throat, bringing his hands to your arms and pulling you away from him. You looked up at him, your soft eyes and smile, wearing his sweatshirt. What was this? Jaebum thought to himself and as soon as he asked himself that he knew that was the number one red flag. He put more distance between himself and you on the couch.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to invade your space like that,” You were glad that the room was dimly lit,  hiding the color that rose to your cheeks. You tried to ignore the upset feeling you felt at the slight rejection and the way he had tensed up from your actions. What were you thinking? He would never consider you like that. You weren’t his type and you were fully aware of that, remembering your end goal. Jaebum was just there to help you date other men.

Jaebum brushed that confusing feeling he felt to the back of his mind. Trying to refocus on what you needed, what you wanted and he knew that he wasn’t that. “You know, I don’t think there’s much else I need to help you with. I think I gave you most of my advice.” he stated.

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, but felt the disappointment develop. Was all of this going to come an end? What other reason could you have to spend more time with Jaebum?

“Why don’t we put things to the test? This weekend there’s a private event being held downstairs at the bar. It’ll be a great way to start socializing,” Jaebum offered, yet when he did a part of him had started to regret it but once again he pushed that feeling away.

“Do you think I’m ready?”

He smiled softly, “I’m telling you Y/N, all you need is confidence.”

Confidence. That was something he had reiterated so many times but something he was worried about. Did he instill confidence in you? Would the weeks leading up to this be successful? And the thing that had occupied his thoughts and the main reason behind this anxious feeling he felt, was he confident that he could fight past whatever effect you had on him? If you met someone tonight, he’d be happy. As he thought about it there was a heavy feeling in his chest that had himself doubting and once again he questioned himself. He’d be happy for you, right?

The lounge had started to fill with people. No one had particularly stood out to him, so far Jaebum deemed them all as not good enough for you. He thought he had a system going, he would do it based on their order of drink and style. Yet that method wasn’t doing any good. The guy who ordered a beer and wore a light denim dress shirt was not classy enough for you. Then the man who came in wearing a well tailored suit who ordered a brandy was too classy and he assumed high maintenance. The private event seemed to host a variety of different people, both women and men. He had been in the midst of a conversation with a brunette woman when you had walked in.

“Um?” the woman had said when Jaebum stopped mid sentence, looking at the entrance when he saw you.

“Sorry?” Jaebum said reverting his attention back to the woman in front him. He still watched you from his peripheral, making your way towards the bar.

He had been completely wrong. You had curves, they were just hidden underneath all those loose fitting sweaters and modest clothing. The black satin material clung to your body, moving with every step you took towards the bar. He had once said that you didn’t need makeup and that still held true, your face was almost bare aside from your glossed lips and the faint color of blush that added warmth to your features. Your hair had been tousled off to the side, accentuating  the daintiness of your neckline. He wasn’t the only one who noticed. As you walked through the lounge several other gazes lingered on you and he saw the approval in the mens eyes. It was strange that as he noticed them staring he felt an annoyance build up in his gut, and he actively had to unclench his fist that rested against the counter of the bar. In this moment as you walked towards the bar, everything around him seemed to quiet. The voice of the woman who sat across from him muffled, all he could focus on was you. Then when you finally sat down, you smirked at him and he swore for a minute his breath was taken away. What was going on and who the hell was this woman sitting just inches away from him?

It took every amount of effort not to tug on the hem of your dress as you sat down. It had been awhile since you wore anything like this. This dress wasn’t even new, it was tucked in the back of your closet amongst the other clothes you had worn back in your college years. You had tried to put more effort into your face however your hand eye coordination failed you when you tried to put on eyeliner leaving you to wash off all your makeup and stick to just the basics. Even your hair hadn’t worked for you, you wanted loose curls yet it ended up falling flat, therefore pushing it off to the side had been your only option. Despite all that you had tried to remain confident, even noticing a few glances and heads turning as you walked through the familiar surroundings of the bar. When you saw Jaebum at the bar, a breath of relief washed over you, feeling that sense of comfort. Except, something was strange. The way he looked at you was different than other times. It had you shifting in your seat uncomfortably.  Did he not like what he saw?

For once Jaebum felt nervous approaching you. His heart was racing fast and he felt the adrenaline rush through his body. Why was he so nervous to approach you? You were the same woman who he had spent countless relaxed nights with over pizza and alcohol. Then again, during those times you weren’t wearing a dress that could make any men grovel on his knees.

“You made it,” Jaebum smiled, trying to make his tone sound as even as possible.

You grinned, “It took longer than expected to get ready,”

Already Jaebum started to pull out a wine glass when a man came and approached you.

“Can I order you a martini?” He rested his arm against the counter, already moving into your personal space.

You glanced at Jaebum and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shake his head. Taking his nonverbal sign of disapproval you looked at the man, although he seemed nice enough, you trusted Jaebum’s instincts. “I’ve already ordered a drink. Thank you though,” you said politely as Jaebum smirked and set out the wine glass in front of you.

Encounters like that happened throughout the night as you sat there sipping your wine. Men had approached you, offering to buy you a drink.  Some even had the other bartenders serve you a drink that they had ordered. Even if Jaebum wasn’t near you or manning the bar at a distance. You would always catch his eye in which he would once again shake his head subtly, taking it as your cue to politely reject the man. This was the most you had ever rejected anyone and as the encounters continued to occur the more your confidence grew.

You sighed when Jaebum came back to you and to check on how things were going. “If you keep having me reject every man that offers to buy me a drink there’s going to be no one left,” you pouted.

“I’m just waiting for the right guy to come a long,” Jaebum explained, so far every guy that approached Jaebum already felt like they weren’t the right fit, yet he didn’t know what exactly it was he looking. He just knew that no guy seemed right for you.  “Did I mention that you look beautiful tonight?”

That had been the second time  Jaebum had called you beautiful and this time more than the last your heart leaped in your chest, butterflies and giddiness rushing through your stomach at his simple compliment.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

It was a mild accomplishment. This time when he had complimented you, you didn’t question him or act in disbelief. Instead you had accepted it and Jaebum knew that in the time you had spent with him there had been some progress.

“I’m just heading to the back to get more glasses. Will you be okay by yourself?” He needed to grab the glasses a while ago yet he had been so hesitant to leave you by yourself. It was ridiculous he knew, but for some reason he just couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to reject every guy who tries to approach me,” you teased, “Unless it’s Zac Efron,” you laughed.

Jaebum smiled, “Be right back,”

A few minutes had passed and you thought this had been the end to guys approaching you. Thinking you had been in the clear you finally relaxed your posture, resting your elbows against the bar.

“Hello, beautiful lady. I took it upon myself to bring you a white wine spritzer,”

You turned to see a man with slicked backed hair.

“That’s very nice of you but no thanks,” you politely rejected.

Still the man took it upon himself to sit down beside you. Shifting his seat closer, “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing sitting at the bar by yourself? Would you like some company?”

The vibe you were receiving from the guy sent a chilling and creepy feeling down your spine. “I’m currently waiting for someone right now,” you said, anxiously keeping an eye out for Jaebum to return.

“Well if you don’t want some company now,” his fingers brushed along the hem of your dress, touching the bare skin of your thigh, “How about later? Come on, let’s not play hard to get darling.”

You frowned, feeling repulsed. Before you could say anything you heard a deep voice behind you.

“I believe the lady said she is waiting for someone.” The tone sharp and deep.

You turned around to see a man, with dark hair and broad shoulders. He looked down at you and smiled, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Sorry I’m late honey. Is this man bothering you?”

Honey? You looked up at the man in confusion and saw the subtle wink and it clicked for you. You smiled, reaching to touch  his hand on your shoulder, “Not at all, I believe he was just leaving.” You smirked at the creepy guy beside you.

He looked between you and the man who stood behind you. Knowing very well that he would lose if this came down to a fight he stood up, muttering as he walked away and distancing himself away from the two of you.

When you were sure he was far away enough from you, you let out a sigh of relief. Turning to face your white knight. This time seeing him fully, he was handsome. Strong cheekbones and dark brown eyes, his hair styled up and wearing a casual sports coat.

“Thank you, ”

He smiled, “No problem, he was a creep. I figured you could have handled it on your own considering you’ve been rejecting guys from left and right but I thought I’d help you move things along more quickly,”

You laughed, “Ah, so you’ve been watching me?”

“I was going to take my chances too but I didn’t have the guts to get rejected,” he chuckled.

“Guess we’ll never know if I would have rejected you or not,” you teased catching yourself off guard. Were you flirting?

“I guess not,” he shrugged

He started to turn around and you quickly panicked, was that it? “Wait!” You called out, “Why don’t you try asking me now?” You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was your newly found confidence.

He grinned, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I like Riesling,”  you answered.

You thought about it. There was nothing wrong with accepting a drink from someone who had just saved you from a gross encounter. Though you didn’t know if Jaebum would have approved of him or not. You figured it was time to try and take things into your own hands.

His name was Brian. He was a lawyer for Kang enterprises, a company your father had many dealings with. The two of you started to get to talking, wondering how you two had never crossed paths considering he had frequented your father’s office, where you worked too. Not only that but strangely enough you two were part of the same fitness club. As you were talking with him, in the back of your mind you kept repeating to yourself “don’t give all your apples away,” thinking of Jaebum’s first advice he had given you. To your surprise  the conversation seemed to flow nicely and you were impressed with yourself with how well you were doing.

When Jaebum came back from the back room he paused. The man beside you was certainly not Zac Efron, so why hadn’t you rejected him? Jaebum felt the urge to walk over and interrupt. He denied it to himself that it was jealous. As a friend, he  just wanted to make sure you were okay and that the guy you were talking with wasn’t some weirdo. It certainly was not jealousy.

“Jaebum.” He heard the all too familiar voice call out to him when he was about to walk towards you.  

He froze, feeling his stomach drop. How long had it been since he had last heard her voice? It was probably since that awful and traumatizing day. He turned around and saw her, doing a quick survey of her appearance. She still looked the same, still beautiful and he cursed her for that. The only notable difference was the ring around her left finger.

She shifted awkwardly under his gaze, flushing as he stared at her. “It’s been a while. When I found out the event was happening here I wondered if I would get the chance to see you,” she pulled a smile on her face but Jaebum remained silent. Only staring back at her.

This was the woman who had ruined it all for him. The one he had fell in love with, who he had hoped he was going to spend the rest of his life with. Before the bar and lounge became popular he had struggled to make ends meet. Yet with all his sacrifices he had saved up enough money to buy her the ring of her dreams. Keeping it in his pocket every day until he could find the right time to propose. Only to have one day come to visit her apartment to find her in bed with her more “successful” coworker. He had found out that those late night meetings in the office with that coworker, was more than just going over blueprints and project proposals. While he had worked his ass off for her to give her the life she deserved and wanted to have for her. She was off making love to another guy. The past three years he spent with her down the drain and a waste of his efforts. It was because of her, the woman who stood in front of him smiling as if none of that happened, was the reason he stopped believing in relationships and closing himself off from anyone. She was the reason he became so reliant only on himself.

Silence passed between both her and Jaebum. “I came here with John.” She said pointing to the crowd, “I’m not sure if you remember him. He’s my husband now,”

How could he not remember him. He was the bastard who he found her in bed with. Still he remained silent.

“The bar has really hit it off. Congrats, I know how hard you worked for this place,” she continued to ramble. Then she sighed, “Jaebum, I’m really sorry. How we ended wasn’t right and you didn’t deserve that. I’m really regretful. You were an amazing guy and probably still are. Better than my actual husband,” she muttered under her breath. “I was just thinking, maybe you’d like to go out for dinner or get reacquainted,”

Jaebum didn’t have to question what she meant by that. He could already see the unhappiness in her face as she spoke to him. Years of working at the bar with people and he had seen it happen before. She wasn’t happy and she came to Jaebum to seek comfort where her husband lacked.

He was about to say his first words to her in five years and along those words was him about to tell her to fuck off but before he could say anything he heard his name.

“Jaebum,” you said as you came to stand beside him, “There you are,”

Brian had left, after you two exchanged numbers and as he was leaving you noticed the little encounter that Jaebum was having. You had seen him with so many women before, talking and smiling. You weren’t used to seeing him standstill, staring blatantly at the woman in front of  him whom you would have presumed to be some sort of model. She was gorgeous. Yet his body language hinted to you otherwise. Curiosity had gotten the best of you as you made your way through the crowd to get a better view and be within ear shot. Was this the woman that Jaebum has briefly mentioned a few nights ago? The woman who had shaped Jaebum into the womanizing, un-open to love man? You had just moved close enough to hear the tail end of her conversation and something inside you had you taking Brian’s action from earlier and using it against her.

You linked your arms with Jaebum. Noting the surprised expression from both Jaebum and the woman across from him. Still, holding onto the boost of confidence you received from the night you looked at the woman.

“Who’s this babe?” You said throwing in a pet name to build on the facade. You didn’t have to hint to Jaebum or anything what you were doing, he caught on real fast.

He smiled at you, removing the link from your arms and instead wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer into him. Even though it was all an act, you felt your heart start to beat rapidly against your chest. Feeling the firmness of his body, press against yours.

“Just an old friend,” Jaebum answered. “Sorry it’s taking me so long to get back. I think she was just asking me something?” he raised his eyebrow at her and noticed the deep color rise to her cheeks.

“Nice to meet you,” You said reaching out to shake her hand, Jaebum’s arm still around you. “I’m Y/N. Jaebum’s girlfriend.” You proudly stated. You saw her jaw drop slightly. “I hope you’re enjoying the event. Are you here with anyone?” You asked.

She tilted her chin up, “I’m with my husband,”

“Oh how lovely. If you’ll excuse us, Jaebum and I have to go attend to other business,”You smiled, pulling Jaebum with you as you walked away. The two of you didn’t need to stand there and entertain her and you wanted Jaebum away from her as possible. In the the time you had spent with him you had never seen him so quiet and taken aback. It was a whole new side that you had never seen. You pulled him back towards the bar, breathing a sigh of relief when you had gotten farther.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“It’s not over yet,” you said as you felt her watchful glare. “I’m apologizing in advance.”

Maybe what you were about to do was pushing it, but you felt her gaze pierce your back. Jaebum deserved better than her and you were going to make sure she knew it. There was a look of confusion on Jaebum’s face when your hands fisted at the material of his dress shirt, pushing him against the counter of the bar.

You didn’t pause or hesitate, the drive from the confidence of your night and her lingering gaze fueled your motivation as you got onto your tiptoes and pressed your lips against Jaebum’s. You felt him stiffen at first, shocked and taken aback. However, you felt his lips start to move along with yours. Melding and syncing in perfect rhythm as the two of you kissed amongst the crowded bar. Warmth rushed over your body as the two of you remained lip locked. Your head was spinning, blaming it on the alcohol and not the taste of his lips. When you felt the display of affection had been enough to rile up Jaebum’s ex you started to pull away. This time it was him who had caught you off guard. He placed his hand on the small of your back, pulling you into him, the other hand cupping at the base of your neck as he deepened the kiss.

Jaebum didn’t know what came over him in that moment. When you had tried to pull away he realized he didn’t want it to end. He tried to convince himself it was all for show. He wanted to make his ex who had broke his heart jealous and regretful. He wanted to show her that he was unphased by her. Yet something else occupied his mind, all he wanted was you. He didn’t care that his staff was here, he didn’t care that there was an event happening in his bar right now and the two of you surrounded by dozens of people, and he sure as hell didn’t care anymore that his ex was in the same room as him. All he cared about was you, right here in this moment.

His tongue ran along your bottom lip and you felt yourself cave. Sinking into the kiss as you granted him more access, a light moan escaping you as you fisted your hands into his shirt and pressed yourself into him more. Had you ever been kissed by a man like this before? The answer was no. He was leaving you breathless, needy and yearning. You could feel his hand burn against the small of you back wanting him to do so much more. You wanted to know what it would feel like to have his hands run along the curves of your body, for his lips to trail and explore your skin. You wanted Jaebum. You couldn’t help but murmur his name softly in the brief moment when the two of you broke for air.

The moment you had said his name Jaebum was brought back to his senses. His mind clear yet his body riled up. It took him every ounce of willpower to pull away from you, taking a step away. You stared at him dazed, cheeks flushed and lips slightly swollen and internally he cursed. If you had been any other woman he would have already pulled you through the crowd and upstairs to the loft. But you weren’t just any other woman. You were different and he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to go through that again, the encounter with his ex tonight was just a painful reminder of that. Lastly, he was the last thing you were looking for.

He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with you.  “Thanks, I think she got the hint.”

When he said that you felt your chest constrict. This was all just part of the act and you felt the disappointment. You couldn’t even say anything before Jaebum muttered an excuse to leave and walked off, once again leaving you feeling rejected. You stared at him as he walked back towards the bar, a smile on his face as he talked with Felix. The high from tonight’s events and attention shattered. Your chest tightened and the empty feeling of wanting something you could never have flooded your body. All you wanted was Jaebum, but he didn’t want you.

Lea ♡ 

If anyone is studying for finals, GOOD LUCK!

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