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stillmonsterz · 2 months

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it's gonna get better (teaser)

(this is the final part to brave it together)

pairing: jay x reader genre: suggestive, angst, slight humor summary: your tumultuous tryst with jay might have ended, but your relationship with the karma club and its members has only grown more entangled. a winter trip to the swiss alps tests your friendships, your willingness to lie, and your resolve in staying away from jay. despite your previous inclinations towards isolation, you're starting to realize, a little too late, that being around people isn't too bad. content: drinking, drug usage, sexual themes, rape mentions, murder mentions, suicide mentions, threats, more to come. estimated word count: 20k

taglist: @moon7jay @belowbun @bambangan @praliliaaa @jjklvr9 @iveivory @magicshop1913 @sseobonggs (if i forgot you, please let me know!)

It took you until evening to gain even a semblance of your composure. You had spent some time working on your scarf, mindlessly purling and knitting. You had tried to watch a movie, but your eyes grew unfocused. Finally, you had decided to lie on your bed as you did at the motel, staring at your ceiling. If you focused, you could still smell Jay's woodsy, spicy scent, as though it had permeated the very walls of your room.

When dinnertime approached, you stripped down to your underwear and examined yourself in the mirror. Your body was a patchwork of fresh skin and mottled bruises that Jay had given you over the past month. When you raised your arm, you could see the nail marks he had made. As usual, bright red hickeys adorned your neck. You’d have to cover them up again so no one would get any ideas.

Then you realized that this was the last time you’d have to cover up a mark that Jay had given you. After this, the evidence of what the two of you had had would fade away, your cells would replenish, and it would be as though he had never touched you in the first place.

It didn’t seem right, that you and Jay were finished. At any second, as you rummaged around in your closet for an outfit to wear, you imagined that Jay would burst inside of your room, demanding something. He’d lie on your bed again, smoking your cigarettes while complaining about how they tasted. He’d tell you that he had been joking, that he had never intended to leave you, that you were his. He would kiss you again, choking you in his grip.

Instead, the minutes dragged on, and Jay never showed up. You pinched the inside of your arm and once again, you didn’t feel a thing. Just a dull register of a sensation.

After you got dressed in your usual sweater and long skirt, you checked your phone. You had gotten a text from Riki.

Riki: how’s my favorite traitor 😂

You: Not a traitor. Didn’t betray anyone.

Riki: when you give me an explanation for saying one of my friends raped you in a group chat literally called “anti-kc”

Riki: then you can be not a traitor

You had to admit, the evidence against you was stacked.

Riki: are u ready yet

Riki: i’m hungry

Riki: i’m thinking i’ll get the “she lied” salad with the “our friendship is ruined” combo

Riki: the “i can’t believe i was going to take her to cliffside laser tag” meal

You: That was never going to happen.

Riki: stop

Riki: haven’t u done enough

Riki: maybe a side of “lying wench�� chips

You: Are you done?

Riki: not even close.

You: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Riki: good

Riki: that’s plenty of time

Riki: the “hoes mad” burger with the “she’s a bird” fries

Riki: crisp waffle fries with extra salt

Riki: ketchup representing the shed blood

He kept going on like that, so you turned your phone off. It bothered you that you couldn’t tell Riki the truth. Well, you could. But if you told him that Jay raped you, and Riki somehow found out that you had been hooking up with Jay for the past month, you would look insane. Or like an idiot. How could you explain something that you didn't even understand? No, you’d rather have Riki hate you than tell him the convoluted truth.

You were used to Karma Club members hating you, anyways.

–

Dinner with Jake and Riki at Stoker’s cafeteria was as insufferable as you had imagined. Bundled under a coat and a high-necked sweater that masked the marks made last night, you wordlessly ate your meal while Riki and Jake talked. Riki sat on the right side of you, jostling you whenever he would gesticulate wildly as he recounted some story. You weren’t really paying attention to anything he said. Your focus was on Jake, on the way he bit his lip as he looked between you and Riki.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jake said slowly, setting his fork down, “but are you and Wednesday, uh…”

Riki winced, and you marveled at his acting prowess. “It sort of just happened,” Riki said. “ We were at the party, and she came to see me, and well, I just went for it. It wasn’t like I meant to steal your girl or anything.

“No, no, no,” Jake said, waving his hands furiously. “No, it’s fine. She wasn’t my girl, never was, never…haha. You guys are cute together, honestly. Same age and everything.” Nervously, he started folding his paper towel into small, neat squares.

“No, I really should have told you,” Riki lied, swallowing a bite of chicken breast.

“It’s cool,” Jake said through gritted teeth. “Why would I want to know if my best friend and the girl I, uh, know, have a thing? That’s none of my business.”

“Glad you understand,” Riki said, beaming at Jake.

Jake got up from the table. “Gonna take a leak,” he muttered before staggering away from the long bench.

As soon as Jake disappeared from view, Riki’s face fell.

“What are you doing?” you asked. “Why are you telling Jake we’re together?”

Riki leaned towards you so that he could whisper. The Stoker dining hall was relatively full at this hour, mainly by students from other dorms, and you were beginning to learn that there were eyes and ears all over Sadame University. “Because,” he began, voice thick with anticipation, “things were getting way too dicey in our dorm. “For whatever reason, things between Jake and Jay got worse after last night. Jake’s skittish as fuck, and Jay’s acting like he wants to kill Jake. I figure this has something to do with you.”

You winced.

“It’s no good,” Riki continued. “Jake’s been going to Jungwon’s room and pacing around and shitting himself and whatever. Remember how I told you that there has to be a balance to shitstirring?”

“I do recall that.”

“This is it,” he said. Riki used his hands to mimic a scale, one hand representing a plate dipping too low. “Right now, tensions are too high. That’s no fun, you know? So I have to even things out.” Riki brought both of his hands to the same level. “If I redirect their attention, make myself the target, then they’ll both hate me instead. But they like me, so nothing bad will happen.”

With your index finger, you pressed down on the palm of one of his hands, forcing it downwards. “What if something bad does happen to you?”

Riki pushed against your finger, steadying his hands once more. “It won’t. I know you and everyone else loves to pretend like the Karma Club members have their own special brand of evil, that we’re just, like, complete sociopaths, but I know them.”

“It’s been three months…”

“A lot can happen in three months,” Riki said. If you reflected on the path your life had taken in merely one month, you would be forced to agree with him.

You pulled your hand away from his and sighed. “Why do you like bad things so much? What about good things?”

“That’s not true,” Riki said. “I love good things. I like bad things too. I’m a very deep person.”

“As deep as a kiddy pool,” you said.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Riki said. “I’m still mad at you for trying to fuck us over.”

You thought about arguing with him, but you decided against it. Riki felt like a true friend to you - at least, he had felt like a true friend - but the thought of baring your soul to him only for him to be unreceptive to your sorrows made you feel sick. You pushed your plate of food away.

“You know, for a while there I almost thought Jay had like a weird thing for you,” Riki said offhandedly, cutting another piece of chicken breast and spearing it with a fork. “I know, I know, it doesn’t make much sense considering he hates your fucking guts. But the dedication with which he hates your guts was scary. Elite hatred. What did you even do to the guy, anyways?”

“Nothing,” you said, “which seems to be the problem.”

Riki chewed his food, staring into space with a thoughtful expression. “He still hasn’t brought Isa over,” Riki said.

“Maybe you just haven’t noticed,” you said. Memories of that night with him in his dorm room, sex tinged with a faint hint of romance, your limbs tangled together in post-coital bliss, spun through your mind.

“No, he explicitly said, ‘Don’t let that bitch Isa get near my room or I swear to God I’ll kill you all,’” Riki said, mimicking Jay’s voice perfectly.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, then.”

“I just always found it weird,” Riki said slowly, “I’ve never seen him be nice to her at all, besides when I would come to the library to pick you up to get a smoothie and I would see them flirting or whatever. Isn’t that so weird? Like, why would Jay get close to Isa in public? Specifically, at the library.”

The hickeys still marring your neck felt as though they were burning, and you scratched at them absentmindedly. “Yeah, weird…”

“Hey,” Riki said in an unusually light voice. “How did you get home last night?”

Riki’s long bangs had fallen into his face, obscuring his eyes. For the best, as you didn’t know how you’d be able to look into them. “What?”

“How’d you get home?” Riki repeated.

“Uber and a bus,” you said.

Riki nodded and leaned away. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Jake asked. He swung his legs over the bench and settled into his spot again.

“Interesting she’s okay with us sharing a room, considering she’s just so, so shy,” Riki said, putting his arm around you in a constricting half-embrace. “The third-floor bedroom has two single beds, right?”

Jake’s lips twitched. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “It does. Jungwon and I were thinking about taking that one, though.”

Riki waved his free hand dismissively. “Just sleep together, Powerpuff girls style.”

“Fuck off,” Jake said with a smile, playfully pushing at Riki.

“You’re going to knock your soup over,” you said, but it was too late. Jake’s chicken noodle soup sloshed over the table, staining the crisp, white tablecloth.

“Aw, man,” Jake said, pouting slightly.

Riki shoveled the last of his chicken breast into his mouth. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “This is the second tablecloth we’ve fucked up.”

“Third,” Jake said, picking bits of pasta off of himself. “When we left Sunoo alone with the chili and he fucking-,”

Riki laughed. “Oh shit, yeah.” Riki stood up and held his hand out towards you, his gaze imploring. Reluctantly, you loosely joined hands with him, and he pulled you to your feet. “Come on, let’s go watch the Scream movies.”

“No,” Jake whined. “I wanted to watch the Amazing Spiderman.”

“No one asked,” Riki said, pulling you along with him. You stumbled after him, disappearing into Stoker’s dorms. Despite yourself, you scanned every possible corner for a hint of Jay, a trace of his breath, the sound of his sardonic laughter.

He wasn’t around.

–

Halfway through the second Scream movie, Riki announced that he had to take a massive shit.

“And why did you choose to tell us that?” Jake asked, slapping Riki’s leg as he got up from his plush bed.

Riki shrugged, shimmying between piles of laundry he had left on the floor. “I thought you might need to know about my bowel movements.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know, that’s up to you,” Riki said, leaving to use his ensuite.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Jake scrambled on top of the bed to sit next to you. He had been sitting cross-legged on the floor; Riki had insisted that you sat next to him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jake asked.

“Tell you what?”

Jake gestured wildly. “That you had a crush on Riki. I guess I could have guessed, but like, come on. Instead, you sort of made me feel like, I don’t know, I might have had a chance at some point…”

Had you? “Uh, it sort of came out of nowhere,” you said, belatedly realizing that you had copied what Riki said almost verbatim.

Pushing his tousled hair back, Jake licked his lips and sighed. “Right. Right, yeah. It’s just that I feel like kind of a dick now.”

“You didn’t do anything,” you said awkwardly.

“I mean, I don’t want to seem like I’m being pushy or that I’m entitled to anything, but you could have told me. Or Riki could have told me. I mean, like, you guys were pretty close and everything, but I didn’t think he was into dating…”

The name “Sieun” came to your lips, until you remembered that no one knew that Riki had dated Sieun. “Well-,”

“Like, you didn’t lead me on, I knew you had your own issues and all to sort out, but if you were going to date one of my best friends, I think it’s only fair to tell me. You know, out of…respect for my feelings? And so it wouldn’t be like I was hitting on my friend’s girl.”

If this was how Jake reacted to the mere idea of you and Riki getting together, you didn’t want to know how he’d react if he found out about you and Jay. “Sorry, Jake.”

Jake sighed again, his entire being seeming to deflate. “It’s fine, whatever. It’s cool.” After a period of silence, Jake said, “I don’t even care, you know? I mean, it wasn’t like it was serious. Like I like you and all, but it wasn’t serious.”

“Right.” Then you recalled what he had said at the party, when he had came out of the bathroom so flustered. “You said you had something to tell me, back at the party?”

“Oh. Yeah, that.” Jake slowly made his way to the floor again, one knee tucked into his chest, the other leg spread straight. He looked at the plasma-screen TV mounted to Riki’s wall blankly. “Well, I was going to ask you to go on the KC trip with me. I was going to pay for everything, but I guess Riki is going to take you now…”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you. “Yeah.”

Jake bobbed his head up and down slowly, his lips pursed together. “Cool.”

When Riki came back, Jake stood up as though being pulled by strings. “I’m gonna head in,” Jake muttered. “I’m still a little hungover.”

Riki clapped Jake on the back. “See you, Jake.”

Jake made a little wave, bid you goodnight, and left Riki’s bedroom. Riki sat down beside you and smiled. “So, what’d you guys talk about?”

“He had an episode,” you said flatly.

“Perfect,” Riki said. “It’s all going according to plan. Now get out of my room.”

You didn’t have to be told that twice. “Good night,” you said, gathering your long skirt up and standing.

“Good night,” Riki said, zipping his hoodie all the way up and covering his jet-black hair with his hood. “I mean, just night. Bad night. I hope your night is shit.”

You squinted at him. “You’re really bad at this.”

Riki had turned the lights out to fit the gloomy atmosphere of the movie, but you could make out his features via the light from the television. Suddenly, he looked older than his age. “I’m bad at it because I genuinely liked you a lot,” he said quietly. “I saw you as a friend, like a real friend. Everyone knows I really liked you. But you lied on one of my friends, and not something petty. You lied about something really fucked. I thought you’d be above doing something like that. It’s something… something I would probably do.”

“Riki-,”

He pointed at the door. “Out, before I lose my nerve.”

You wouldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t respect you at all if he knew what you did with the man who sexually assaulted you.

With some horror, you realized that Riki didn’t know that Jake had a problem. If Riki kept pushing Jake, who knew what he would do? The only thing you could do is trust that Riki knew how to balance the scales of his bizarre game.

The walk to Fawcett left you with far too much time to reflect. You knew that you had never fully had Jay, that he wouldn’t allow you to possess him in a tangible form. But you hadn’t realized that you would lose your friend, too.

#enha smut #kpop fanfiction #enhypen smut #jay smut #kpop smut

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chibrary · 2 months

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Some at the team knew he was the man for the job, but Charles Leclerc's procurement of a seat relied on a neat bit of manoeuvring in order for their boss to agree to a deal.

We're not talking here about the delay that followed Sergio Marchionne's death before Leclerc gained a 2019 Ferrari Formula 1 drive, rather his maiden season of car racing in the '14 Formula Renault ALPS series.

Fortec Motorsport engineer Martin Young knew all about the talents of the 16-year-old Monegasque driver.

"My background is in karting," he explains. "I used to work for the factory teams in Italy. I knew the drivers to watch from karting would be Max Verstappen, Ben Barnicoat and Charles Leclerc, and Fortec wanted to run teams in Eurocup, NEC and ALPS."

It's worth explaining here that in those days Formula Renault 2.0 operated as a pyramid structure, with the Eurocup at the top, and the Dutch-promoted Northern European Cup and Italian-run ALPS series as the base. Fortec was already established in Eurocup and NEC, but was venturing into ALPS for the first time.

"At the time it looked like Verstappen would be doing Eurocup, and we had Ben signed for NEC," continues Young. "I spoke to Jamie Dye [Fortec managing director] and said that if we wanted to move forward in ALPS we needed to get Leclerc.

"We did a test day at Motorland [Aragon] and we sort of lied about his times - we'd put Charles up against a lot of experienced drivers, so he was 1.2-1.3 seconds off - so that Richard [Dutton, team principal] would stay interested in giving him a bit of a deal. Richard was asking, 'Is he really good?', and we said, 'Yeah, we know he's really good.'"

Barnicoat, now a factory McLaren GT racer, was already familiar with Leclerc - as a Racing Steps Foundation protege, he was part of the ART Grand Prix line-up in international karting in 2012 and '13, while Leclerc belonged (and still does) to the All Road Management stable of ART shareholder Nicolas Todt.

"I had two years as team-mate to him in karting," says Barnicoat. "The first year I was directly racing with him, and in the second he went into gearbox [KZ] karts. He was one of the best team-mates I ever had, if not the best. A great guy.

"That first year, Charles won the WSK series and I won the European championship - that was up against the likes of Verstappen, so the competition was extremely high. I feel sort of left out!

"He had a bit more track knowledge so in the first half of the year he was beating me, but then we pushed each other really hard and that worked for the team - we got a lot from that.

"Looking at how good he is, it's nice to know I beat him on occasions, to know that I had the talent and ability to do that."

Fortec was one of the teams that tested Verstappen, and was also eyeing a deal with another talented karter: George Russell, whose plan was to combine Renault ALPS with what was then BRDC Formula 4.

Russell, who now is on course to succeed Leclerc as Formula 2 champion, eventually joined Prema Powerteam for ALPS, but that deal fell over on the eve of the season and he secured a last-minute berth at Koiranen GP.

"We wanted George; we tried to sign him," says Dutton of what could have been a mighty line-up had Russell joined Leclerc. "But he signed for Prema and then [Lawrence] Stroll [who had taken a majority shareholding in Prema] stopped him from going there."

"Me and Charles were testing for Fortec," says Russell, "and at the same time Verstappen was there with Josef Kaufmann Racing, I think. We were in talks with Fortec, but we decided to sign with Prema."

When it's pointed out what a mega line-up that would have been alongside Leclerc, Russell laughs: "In hindsight that could have worked out better for me than Koiranen. That [the late Prema split] put us in the shit a little bit, and three weeks before the first race I didn't have a deal. We took the gamble on Koiranen."

Autosport reminds Dutton of an awards evening over the 2013-14 winter when, asked about Russell, he said: "We've got someone even better - a lad from Monaco..."

"It was really quite a late deal," recalls Dutton. "He missed most of the winter-test programme. But you just knew he was the real deal. In and out of the car he knew what he wanted. In lots of ways he reminded us of Verstappen when we tested him."

Young confirms that the sum total of Leclerc's pre-season mileage was four days at Aragon, and two at Barcelona, before going straight into the pre-weekend test for the Imola opener.

"The first three race weekends his experience was a bit low," says Young, "but as soon as he got on the podium he was there every weekend.

Leclerc went on to finish runner-up to the flying - and experienced - Nyck de Vries in the ALPS points, with two race wins at Monza under his belt, but perhaps the more impressive performances came in his three 'wildcard' outings in the Eurocup. The first was at Spa, one week before the Belgian track's ALPS round.

"He was 30th in qualifying at the Eurocup," says Dutton. "We changed everything - we couldn't understand what the hell was going on. One week later he qualified third for ALPS. That was really, really special."

In his next Eurocup outing, Leclerc took a fifth and a second at the Nurburgring, and in his final one he took a brace of seconds at the Hungaroring.

"I was looking after Matt Parry and Jack Aitken in Eurocup," says long-time Fortec driver coach Matt Howson. "I'd heard [Leclerc] was something maybe a bit special, but you hear that all the time, and wait until you see it yourself.

"Usually you understand the driving style straight away - what's good, what's bad - and the thing with Charles is it didn't matter whether there was understeer or oversteer, he seemed to deliver a lap time."

The cerebral approach of Leclerc and engineer Young frustrated Howson at the Nurburgring.

"He'd never seen the place, and there were only two 45-minute [test] sessions, and furthermore Martin was determined to try things on the car," says Howson.

"I said, 'Don't do it, leave him out'. He was last in the second session, and then he was P3 on the grid for the second race - that's unheard of in Eurocup [for a newcomer]. Renault is a very finicky formula, and it all has to come together to deliver results, but Charles seemed impervious to everything.

"Based on that first year, I knew he was a little bit special. Whenever he was tested in Eurocup, he defied his experience. That's a marker - that you can break all the accepted rules."

Talking about that Nurburgring episode, Young says: "That literally sums up Charles Leclerc. That year we were struggling in Eurocup, and I said I'd come in with Charles and we'd do some testing. Going into qualifying he'd never run new tyres, but he went from last to the front. Nothing ever fazed him."

In Young's view, he also compared favourably to Lando Norris, who tested FRenault cars with Fortec in 2014 before his first steps into single-seaters: "I worked with Lando towards the end of the year, and Lando eventually got to the same point [as Leclerc] but needed a lot of testing, but Charles could just get in and drive. It was second nature to him."

Russell took a distant fourth in the ALPS standings, although he did claim the 2014 BRDC F4 title.

"With Nyck winning the championship it didn't make any sense to me, but I think at the time there were a few dodgy chassis around," he says. "When I tested Nyck's car it was extremely different in terms of characteristics. I wasted a season there, but it was character-building."

He also suffered from chicken pox that caused him to miss the Monza round, where Leclerc took his two wins.

"I didn't think it affected me at the time, but I struggled a bit for no reason in the following few F4 races," says Russell. "It was quite severe - I've still got some bad scars. I put my family off their dinner a few times!"

But Russell trumped Leclerc by joining Tech 1 Racing for the final Eurocup round at Jerez as a wildcard - and winning: "I got my self-confidence back a bit, jumped in that car and won."

Both Russell and Leclerc had initially targeted a full season in Eurocup in 2015, but such were their reputations by the end of '14 that each went to the Formula 3 European Championship, Russell with Carlin, and Leclerc with Van Amersfoort Racing.

Fortec tried to hang on to Leclerc for F3. "We tried so hard to get him for F3, but we lost him to VAR," says Dutton. "We did some tests with him in the F3 car and he was straight on the pace. At Silverstone he was quickest of everybody there, and then we went to Valencia with him and we had a nightmare with mechanical issues. I think that didn't do us any good."

All who worked or raced with Leclerc agree about his qualities as a man.

"Of all the drivers in F1 who've come through us, Charles is the one who gets [guest] passes for the British Grand Prix," says Dutton. "He had Martin [Young] and Jamie [Dye] there this year the whole weekend, in Sauber hospitality. He's a proper guy."

"I still speak to Charles every week or so on various topics," adds Young, who attended Leclerc's initial grand prix free practice outings in 2016. "He's still exactly the same person."

Barnicoat, who is one of the drivers for the McLaren hot laps at F1 events, bumps into Leclerc regularly.

"When we raced against each other in Renault there was quite a lot of rivalry from what we'd had in karting," says the Briton, who added three 'wildcard' ALPS outings as direct team-mate to Leclerc to his title-winning NEC campaign.

"But it would have been nice to get more direct comparisons. In 2013, when we were in karting, I went to the grand prix with him in Monaco and stayed on his uncle's boat, and had a really good time. We spent a lot of time together, and although we were rivals we helped each other out. He was a good friend of mine and still is."

Leclerc is also resilient. "Jules Bianchi came to the Hungaroring Eurocup round to mentor him," says Howson, "and I understood then how close they were. After that incident [for Bianchi] and his father [who died in mid-2017], he's probably been tested off track more than anyone else, but it's not bled over into anything on track.

"He's incredibly mature. He's relatively introverted - he doesn't come in and make lots of noise, but he's polite, considerate and always looks you in the eye when he talks to you. It doesn't matter whether he's got loads of cameras on him, he'll always come over for a chat."

Russell, meanwhile, is "100%" sure that Leclerc will flourish at Ferrari.

"Charles is one of a handful of others I put in the best-of-the-best group," he says. "In my opinion he absolutely deserves his chance at Ferrari. He's got the speed and the talent, and I'm excited to see how he fares next year. I've no doubt that he will be competitive."

#series:f1 #year:2018 #driver:george #driver:ben.barnicoat #format:article

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

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König meeting civilian reader Scenario (part 1)

Masterlist

Part 2 is here

Meeting for the first time. Civilian reader. I know, you all have your personal headcannons for his real/civilian name, so I tried to leave it blank for you. Boy is just homesick, so sorry for that “Austria is better than...” thing.

It was Friday night, you gathered with your friends at the local bar. Your neck and shoulders were aching after a week of sitting in the office, barely having time to stand up.

So when you saw an unoccupied coach at your table - you knew it was your choice for this evening.

You see, the coach is good for relaxing, even drinking maybe... but you all were hungry after a long day and sitting down there, you were too low to eat something from the table. Your nose was literally at tabletop height. So you were left alone on the couch.

Not that you minded extra space.

It was until your last friend showed up, bringing this mountain of a man with them.

"Everybody, say hi to *Königs` civilian name*. He is a friend of a friend, he'll be staying in our town for some time."

Despite being warmly greeted, he glances at you all cautiously and answers something under his breath.

You figure, the guy must be tired or just doesn't like big companies. So when he lands on a couch near you and almost immediately moves away, as if trying to take up less space, you just smile and reassure you don't need the whole couch just to yourself.

Even sitting on a low sofa, he rises above the rest of you.

You are quickly distracted by the conversation with the rest of your friends and turn back to the table. From time to time, someone from your company asks the giant next to you about his life, but his answers are always short and reserved.

Sometimes it seems to you that you feel someone's gaze, but when you turn around to your new acquaintance, he turns out to be absolutely fascinated by reading the label of his beer bottle.

At some point, one of your friends is going to the bar and asks what to get you. You glance at the menu without much enthusiasm.

"I don't even know... What are you drinking?", you turn to König.

"It's Villacher...", he answers almost automatic and looks so concentrated and nervous, as if you already knew the right answer and was just testing him.

"I don't see it in the menu... it must be in German exported list, yes?", you ask him without second thoughts, and it is where his face changes.

Anxiety is replaced by surprise on his face as he answers you in much slower pace now: "It's Austrian. You don't place Austrian beer in German list..."

And before you have a moment to consider, if you offended the guy, he starts a whole freaking TED talk on how Austria and Germany approach brewing. And how far the traditions of Austria surpass those of Germany.

But somehow he sounds not angry at all. He is actually very happy to share his knowledge with you. He even scribbles view from a window in a typical village in the Tyrolean Alps (yep, good luck figuring out how is that related to his lecture. IT JUST IS).

You notice small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smiles, talking to you. You listen to his accent, remember his name, and put two and two together.

"So, I take it, you are from Austria. Miss your home?", he suddenly pauses at your question.

"Well, a bit... But I'm ok here, I guess".

You two spend the rest of the evening chatting. The more you talk to him, the more relaxed he seems.

It is until it's time to say goodbye, and you casually ask him for his number. Man frowns. Seems like he stops breathing.

"No-no, you got me wrong, I just want to add you to our group chat. That way, you'll have a bunch of acquaintances in the local area. Plus you'll know, when we are gathering next time", you laugh, hiding your own embarrassment.

He answers "Sure" not breaking eye contact and completely ignores the smartphone you placed before him on a table. Instead, he takes a napkin and scratches a number on it with a pencil (this gentle giant is so caught up in a moment, he doesn't have a single idea, what is he doing).

Back at home you understand, you've fetched the napkin with his sketch as well by mistake. But you keep it - such a wholesome reminder of that nice evening.

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syninplays · 9 months

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Modern Ikke - world download

The idea behind Ikke was to create a scandinavian/swiss inspired world, but most importantly a place where sims can go (fake) skiing and be surrounded by pine trees and snow. I took inspiration from the Swiss/French Alps (especially Verbier) so naturally all buildings go along that vibe.

I kinda made it my mission to leave CC to a minimum, so I used only a few cc items and the rest is from expansion/accessory packs or ts3 store. - So make sure to at least have Supernatural, Pets, Into The Future and Late Night in order for the world to show up properly.

Note: the world file is pretty much empty, so I strongly recommend to download the world AND the save file so Ikke can look the same way it does in my game. - I am going to share furnished lots too, but finding cc takes time so bare with me :p

All relevant info is under the cut, so please read it!

>DOWNLOAD< (early access until 20/10/23)

>CC: there's two folders included with the download; the one called CC has all the necessary stuff you need so the world looks exactly as it does in my game. I didn't include some mods objects, so if you don't already have these then grab omsp, omsp resizers by Buckley, medium size rocks here, (more) medium size rocks here, city hall/police station/military base rug shell (you only need that one) & this set of patterns (I didn't use all of them, but I love them and highly recommend getting all of them hehe - I used the ones from the wood category) / the second folder called CC Recommendations is not necessary for the world to show up properly, but everything there goes along with the vibe and would look great in most buildings (;

>Modern Ikke.world: as said above, it's almost empty except for some scarce decor and the chairlift (but without it's start/finish bit) / Goes in Documents>Electronic Arts>The Sims 3>Installed worlds

>Save File: Has all the buildings I did (14 lots), plus a few other details I changed from the original world file. I tested it along with my bf, so you'll start with my Svensson household and there will be some npcs (with randomized Spanish names as he has the game in Spanish hehe) - obviously just get rid of them all and start with your own simmies (; / Both folders inside 'save file' go in Documents>Electronic Arts>The Sims 3>Saves / you NEED to install the world file too or the save won't work!

>Additional note: If you downloaded the shell rug linked above, then you'll find a "city hall" icon in Ikke's Hotel; I put it there mostly so you can change NRass settings if you're using it. Otherwise (or when you're done setting things up) feel free to get rid of it.

#s3cc #ts3cc #ts3 custom content #s3 custom content #ts3 world #ts3 world download #download #my cc #modern ikke

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healixhospitals24 · 3 months

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Reading And Interpreting Your Liver Function Test - A Guide To Commonly Used Liver Tests

The liver is a vital organ responsible for numerous metabolic functions in the body, including detoxification, protein synthesis, and bile production. Monitoring liver health is crucial for early detection and management of liver diseases. One of the primary tools for assessing liver function is the Liver Function Test (LFT). In this guide, we will delve into the commonly used liver tests, how to interpret the results, and what they indicate about your liver health.

Understanding Liver Function Tests

Liver Function Tests (LFTs) are a group of blood tests that provide valuable insights into the health and function of the liver. These tests measure various enzymes, proteins, and substances in the blood that are indicative of liver health.

Key components of Liver Function Tests

Alanine Aminotransferase (ALT): Elevated levels suggest liver damage, commonly caused by conditions like hepatitis or fatty liver disease.

Aspartate Aminotransferase (AST): Similar to ALT, elevated AST levels indicate liver damage but may also be elevated in conditions affecting the heart or muscles.

Alkaline Phosphatase (ALP): Elevated ALP levels may suggest liver or bone disease.

Total Bilirubin: Increased levels may indicate liver dysfunction or obstruction of bile ducts.

Albumin and Total Protein: These are measures of liver synthetic function; decreased levels may suggest liver disease.

What are the causes of abnormal liver function test results?

Causes of abnormal liver function test results can vary and may indicate different underlying conditions. Some common causes include:

1. Build-up of Fat in the Liver:

* Non-alcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD) can lead to abnormal liver function tests, especially in overweight or obese individuals.

2. Liver Inflammation and Damage:

* Infections, toxic substances like alcohol or certain medications, and immune conditions can cause liver inflammation and subsequent abnormal test results.

3. Liver Overworking:

* When the liver is under stress from processing medicines or toxic substances like alcohol or paracetamol, it can result in abnormal liver function tests.

4. Bile Duct Blockage:

* Blockages in the bile ducts, such as by gallstones, can lead to abnormal liver function test results.

5. Liver Conditions and Diseases:

* Underlying conditions like Wilson's disease, haemochromatosis, or Gilbert's syndrome can affect liver function and result in abnormal test values.

6. Liver Injury:

* Physical injury to the liver, trauma, or presence of abscesses or tumors within the liver can cause abnormal liver function tests.

7. Medications and Supplements:

* Certain medications, over-the-counter drugs, herbal remedies, and traditional medicines can also impact liver function test results.

8. Other Factors:

* Factors like high alcohol intake, viral infections, autoimmune conditions, metabolic liver diseases, heart problems, and tumors in the liver can contribute to abnormal liver function tests.

Continue Reading: https://www.healixhospitals.com/blogs/reading-and-interpreting-your-liver-function-test-a-guide-to-commonly-used-liver-tests

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finelinevogue · 2 years

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distant promises

summary - Bucky has been on a mission for a long time and you miss him

warnings: insomnia, long-distance relationship, swearing, Christmas sadness (only slightly)

pairing: boyfriend!bucky x reader

word count: 2k

Bucky had been gone for 6 months now.

He was currently on a mission in the French Alps, taking down some military base that had connections to HYDRA. The mission meant a lot to him, not thanks to having been tested on and tortured with over a multitude of years. It had taken him a while to be comfortable with who he was and rid himself of the Winter Soldier. You could see him coming accepting himself for who he truly was more each day. He wasn't afraid of who he was anymore and it was an honour to have helped him through that.

It was currently 1 in the morning and you still had yet to fall asleep. You had been finding it harder and harder to fall asleep as the months went by without Bucky. It certainly didn't help that you were taking extra shifts at Starbucks, in order to pay off some debts you owed to banks and Bucky.

Bucky kept telling you to cut back on the shifts and let him pay off some of your debts you owed him too much already that you couldn’t justify anymore.

So insomnia it was.

You honestly couldn't think of what you'd done to deserve him.

Turning in bed to check your phone, you started scrolling through your Instagram to like photos on your dashboard. There were some pictures of friends who were out clubbing, singing Christmas songs at the top of their lung. There were also some celebrities posting magazine shoots and as always there were the cat accounts that you religiously followed.

You were scrolling and liking for about ten minutes before you had an incoming call from Bucky.

"Hey Buck." You sounded surprised that he'd called you. Normally it was too risky to call since he didn’t want anyone to track his phone and give away his location, but here he was.

"Hi babe." You could hear the smile in his voice.

"What's up?" You asked as you snuggled further under the warmth of your fresh, clean, duvet.

"I saw you were active on Instagram, but I know it’s really early morning where you are so I just wanted to make sure everything is okay?"

Knowing that Bucky kept tabs on what time it was where you were was just one of the small things he did which meant a whole lot more than anything his money could buy you.

"Yeah everything's good.” Buck stayed silent as you answered, knowing there was more to it. “It’s, um, just that I wish you were here with me."

"Oh darling, I miss you so much. I promise you it won't be long before I see you next." Now it was your turn to remain silent. "Y/N? Please don't cry darling."

“Sorry.” You sniffled, getting yourself worked up over something so trivial.

"Hey, no. Don’t apologise. I have to go really soon love, but I'm not going to hang up until I know you're alright."

"No need to worry about me Buck. I'll be alright." You tried to say as happily as possible, but you knew Bucky would catch on that what you were saying was far from the truth.

"Babe, you know I worry about you constantly." He laughed.

“Like literally ALL the time.” You heard Sam shout in the background, making you laugh.

"Is Sam there?" You asked Bucky.

“Yeah. Y’wanna say hi?”

"Mhm."

"Y/N I can’t deal with this emotional softie anymore." Sam said without a hello.

“Emotional softie? Are we sure we’re talking about the same man?” You teased Bucky, knowing that he most likely had you on speaker phone.

“The bionic-dude right?” Sam made himself laugh and you heard a grunt from what sounded like Bucky punching Sam. You rolled your eyes over their stupid playfulness, before Bucky came back to the phone.

"Yeah, that's enough of that.”

“Surprised you two have kept each other alive.” You laughed to Bucky, eyes feeling heavier now that you’d safely heard from him.

“Barely.” You shuffled again in bed. “Okay darling, I have to go now. As much as I don't want to I'm gonna have to love you and leave you. Just promise me you'll try and get some sleep?"

“As long as you promise to come home for Christmas.”

"I promise."

“Then I promise too.”

"I love you." Bucky just kissed the microphone to make it sound like he was really kissing you. You kissed yours back and you both stayed on the phone for another minute as you wrapped up your goodbye, before you attempted some better sleep.

•••••

Needless to say, when you woke up the next morning you felt awful.

There was still no surprise Bucky waking up next to you. There was a lack of smell on his side of the bed where he should be sleeping. There was no mess on his side of the room or whistling from a silly tune he’d make up.

It was going to be another day without him and with only a few days until Christmas, you were starting to lose hope on spending it with him.

Your scheduled alarm went off at 7am for your morning shift. You aspired to open up your own cafe one day and so you wanted to get the knowledge of how business operates and be able to tackle customer experience first hand. That’s why you worked in Starbucks. You were also taking an online degree in finance and business, to help you for when you open your cafe.

You got ready by putting on your black jeans and the Starbucks t-shirt. You threw on your basic vans and grabbed your bag before going out the front door to work. Starbucks was about a 30 minute walk from your shared house. Normally Bucky would drive you, because that's the gentleman he is, but because he hasn't been here you've been walking to work. It’s mostly a pleasant walk, but you hate having so much time to yourself and your thoughts.

Your manager told you that you'd be managing the shop floor today, meaning you had to give all the employees individual jobs, whilst help make the drinks and also be in charge of the tills’ money. It was going to be a stressful, but worth the experience.

Plus, anything to keep your mind off Bucky and how he was doing

It had been about 2 hours into your shift and you'd managed to get through with no complaints, so you’d given yourself a break. You weren’t feeling hungry just yet though, so you just got a cappuccino and went into the back office for your 20 minute break.

Not even 3 minutes into your break one of the employees came in.

"Hi Y/N. Sorry to disturb you but there's a customer out front who wants a manager to complain to."

This was a reason why you didn’t want to be a manager all the time, because you were really bad for getting upset when someone shouted at you.

"Ok. Thanks Nina. I'll be there in 2 seconds." You wiped your hand around your mouth to make sure there's no froth left behind and then went back out front. "Nina, where are they?" You asked her, as you couldn't see anyone obvious who looked like they wanted to complain.

"Umm..." She scanned the room. "Oh, that gentleman sat by the window over there." She pointed to a man who had his hoodie slightly pulled up and was looking out the window.

Walking over, you wiped your clammy hands on your red apron because as much as you put on a brave face sometimes social interactions gave you anxiety. You took a deep breathe before being prepared to get screamed at. Why anyone would want to scream and shout this close to Christmas you didn’t understand. Where was the Christmas joy?

"Hi. I'm Y/N. My colleague said you had a complaint?" You asked politely.

"Yeah I just wanted to complain that this cup of coffee is not nearly as good as the one that my girlfriend makes at home. So, why is that?" He turned around to you and took down the hood from his head and sunglasses off to look directly at you.

You took a step back, reaching for the counter to support yourself from fainting in disbelief.

Bucky was in your Starbucks making a "complaint".

You covered your face with your hands as you sunk down to the floor crying. You were so shocked that he was actually here that you didn't even know how to act. He laughed at as he stood up from his chair and slowly walked over to where you were crouched down on the floor.

You stood up and looked around to see customers and colleagues smiling and Nina was filming the whole thing. "You knew! Oh for fuck sake!" You cry-laughed, as you pointed at Nina.

"Surprise?"

You just shook your head. You could hear Bucky laughing at the whole situation - a laugh that you'd missed more than you'd allowed yourself to believe.

"Do I not get an ecstatic run, jump and a hug from my girlfriend?" Bucky joked, holding his arms wide open for you to be engulfed in.

"You're a knob!" You joked at him, shaking your head because you couldn't get over he was actually in front of you.

"Sam said you'd say that!"

You slapped your hand on your forehead when you actually realised what was going on. "What the actual fuck? You're really here?"

"I'm worried it's taken you this long to realise it, darling!" His arms were still wide open.

You laughed as you ran and jumped into his warm and loving embrace. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, whilst he wrapped his arms firmly around your waist to support you from falling. You started to cry again whilst inhaling his sweet cinnamon scent. He just smelt like home. "I'm going to have go on missions more often if it means I can surprise you like this!" He said, but you were too busy crying over the fact your best friend was back in your arms.

"You're actually here." You whispered into his neck.

"I am, love. I am right here." He whispered back to you, pressing a multitude of kisses to the side of your face. "I'm always going to be here." You didn't care that he was being the stereotypical smushy boyfriend, right now you were just glad you were back with each other.

You let each other go. Bucky wiped your tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed your forehead.

"I've still got like 2 hours of my shift left." You said, wondering what he's going to do now.

"Yeah, fuck no. I spoke to your manager and she was more than happy for you to go home early. With me, obviously."

"Really?" Your eyes lit up over the thought of spending the rest of the day glued next to him.

"Let's go home and get some well deserved sleep for a change." He took your hand and squeezed it, just once more for reassurance that he was home with you.

#bucky barnes blurbs #bucky barnes fight #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #finelinevogue ficmas 2022 #finelinevogue ficmas #ficmas

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | two | three

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Julianna is a real princess. As the niece of the Queen, her title is official. She’s been a princess all her life, and it’s a detail you can’t miss.

James’ hand is hot but amicable against your shoulder blade. He hasn’t stepped away from you since Julianna arrived, though what threat she poses has yet to be seen. She doesn’t seem particularly volatile. You can’t imagine her in all her dewy skin and fine clothing lifting a finger, let alone her fist.

“Mama says you’re an artist,” she drawls.

“Not really.” How her mother knows anything about you is a mystery. “It’s a hobby, is all.”

“And you didn’t finish university?”

“No.” You don’t owe her anything. You know you don’t. But it’s not just her you want to defend yourself to, not when Remus is sitting by the window of the parlour and James is close enough to hear your heartbeat. “I tried to, obviously, but I couldn’t, uh, afford to not work.”

“Ah.”

You don’t expect her to understand it. You know most people don't. Studying and working, the majority can handle both. You’d been ashamed of yourself for failing, but you’d come to the realisation that it was sink or swim. You could sink —hate yourself for being a little more fragile than others, for needing more time, more space, more accommodation— or you could swim. Accept your ‘shortcomings’. Make the most of what you have.

Find yourself in a foreign country surrounded by the highly educated and the ridiculously wealthy. People who might never comprehend why you’ve struggled, or how.

In that moment, you decide to treat this heart-wrenching trip as nothing more than a holiday. James is nice to you. The food is free and apparently plentiful. The grounds…

Fuck, the grounds. The scenery. The royals aren’t currently living in their most famous residence, Loswell Castle, but are instead mourning the Prince at the more private and more subtle Bellaverden House. Subtle, yet gorgeous. The grass is green and stretches as far as the eye can see in all directions, broken up only by the silhouette of the alps to the east and the shimmering Lake Orlo to the west. The palace itself is nothing like you’d expected, and so far from the capital city of Genovia it is no surprise to find that the royals let their personal tastes bleed into every corner. It’s tasteful, silent wealth, no crystal chandeliers hanging from the eaves but instead a Rembrandt in the hallway. No solid gold cutlery, but instead Noritake porcelain tea cups and their matching exorbitant saucers.

“Loswell is the gaudier of the two houses,” James had said, evidently pleased by your wide-eyed surprise.

A nice boy who’s being paid to spend time with you and his funny friends. All you have to do is survive the paparazzi (check!) and your suspicious possible relatives (less so).

Any hour now, the paternity test will come up negative and they’ll be shepherding you home in search of the actual princess, wherever she may be.

If she exists at all.

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” James says softly, for your ears only. “Should we go down to the kitchens?”

It’s hard to describe the true and daunting scale of the palace, but James’ use of ‘kitchens’ rather than ‘kitchen’ sums it up nicely.

Julianna rolls her shoulders, reaching for a black telephone on the side table. “No need. We’ll have it brought up. What do you like? They have yards of fresh pasta prepared by now. Doesn’t matter, I’ll ask for some of everything.”

“Oh, no,” you say, stepping out of James' reach. “I don’t want to be an imposition while I’m here.”

“That ship has sailed,” she says neatly.

Ouch. You look back to James without intending to, an automatic movement. He’s become your safety net too quickly. His job is to protect you from harm, not your catty maybe-cousin’s mild disdain.

“Sit,” Julianna says. “James, you can take up station in the hallway. Go on.”

Her voice possesses all the snobbish airiness you’d expect it to. She’s regal, elegant, and rude. James’ hand stretches toward yours, but your skin never touches. You think it might be his silent way of saying he won’t be far.

He gives you a reassuring look, not quite smiling. “If you need me,” he says.

“Tutor,” Julianna adds once James is at the door, “you can leave us.”

“Remus, please.” You smile at Julianna appealingly, piping up before she can steal your last lifeline. “I need him to tell me what silverware to use. If I have any hope of catching up, I’ll have to start learning about proper etiquette straight away.”

You look to your tutor to make sure he’s on board. Remus gestures for you to sit and crosses the hardwood floors between you, his soft shoes barely making a sound. Julianna sniffs, your suggestion agreeable but tiresome for her, and pulls the telephone receiver to her ear.

Remus settles into the chair next to yours at the table.

“Don’t worry. We won’t leave you for wolves,” he says.

You’re grateful. You nod to the book in his hands. “What are you reading?”

He turns the book around. A Comprehensive History of Contemporary Genovia.

“I’ve never had to educate someone who didn’t already know a very specific, very intricate history of our country,” he says in his rough voice, the barest hints of his accent peaking through. He says our country like you already belong as he does, not native but citizen anyhow. “Honestly, I provide supplementary education for the well-educated, I… I’m like a second chance for rich slackers. You’re neither, and so I’m unsure how I can make this easy on you.”

You admire his thinking. You’ve been lucky to find yourself in the care of people who put your comfort first. Remus, James, Sirius, even the ambassadors of the country, and the matron you’d been introduced to upon your arrival here, they’ve all been so conscientious.

But it won’t matter.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says.

“You do?”

“You’ve made it clear how much faith you have in the current situation. I believe…” that you’re who we suspect you are, you think he might say, but he parts his legs to bump his knee into yours. “I believe we’re going to be good friends.”

That is… “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He nods.

“So, what’s with the bruise?” Julianna asks abruptly. “And the bad makeup. Mean boyfriend back home?”

Her cavalier attitude rubs you the wrong way immediately. “I was a little too close to the door when someone opened it.”

“Ah.”

Again with the Ah. Extra syllables must be at cost.

Positivity, you remind yourself. This is a vacation. This inane and insane need to constantly prove yourself to the people around you is going to make you crazy, especially when all of this is temporary. Who cares what princess Julianna thinks of you now when, in a day or two, she’ll remember you as nothing more than the girl who they brought by mistake? And wouldn’t it be nice to just… not care? Who cares what Julianna thinks.

You stand and walk to the door where James is standing, because calling for him would make you feel like an entitled dick. He turns his head to you obligingly.

“Would you come back inside?” you ask. “The painting is giving me the heebies.”

“That’s a portrait of your great great grandmother.”

“She’s scary.”

He claps your shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze. “If the test comes out negative, princess, I’ll happily commit royal espionage for you and fix the results.”

“That is not a joke you should make,” Remus calls mildly.

“Probably not. I’ve made it now. Sit down, princess, the food’s arriving.”

The food they bring up to you is incredible. Genovian cuisine is actually mostly stolen from the Italians, and how fortunate you are for that. You have no clue where to start, surrounded by rich smells of broth and stewed vegetables, the spritely aroma of white wine and tomatoes so fresh their roasted skins split under the gentle bottom of your spoon.

James refuses to eat with you, as he’s on the clock, but Remus sits down at the table as promised to guide you through the fascinatingly awful etiquette of a new royal.

“That’s Cioppino,” Remus says, pointing to a dark red stew bragging large pieces of crab, smaller chunks of a white meat you’re unsure of, and the distinct dark brackets of mussel shells. “It’s actually an Italian-American dish. It’s served with sourdough or french bread, but in our case, where you can’t necessarily use your hands, we’ll go without.”

“Well, there’s nobody here I need to impress, right?” you ask quietly.

You swear you can hear Julianna twitching.

He ignores your comment, but his voice is riddled with amusement when he says, “It’s more common for the crab to be served in its shell, but I don’t suppose they want the royals using crab forks and crackers." He points to a second bowl. “This, from the looks of it, is a variation of stufato di capra e fagioli, Italian for ‘stew of goat meat and beans’. Self explanatory. It’s very popular here in the winter, it’s,” —his voice drops to a lower register— “Sirius’ favourite. Shoulder meat, onions, carrots, celery, white wine and white beans. I don’t suppose I have to tell you what that is.” He nods to a heaping bowl of gnocchi coated in a green, buttery sauce, and its familiar wingman — fettuccine alfredo.

“Now there’s one I know,” you say with a smile.

“I think they’ve gone easy on you,” Remus says. “Given you something they knew would be familiar. The head cooks, Marl and Marsha, hardly ever serve fettuccine without ragù di pollo. Chicken ragù. It’s a sacrament in Marlene’s eyes to separate the two.”

He moves so easily from English to Italian. You wonder if he speaks Genovian. Is there a Genovian language? You’re too embarrassed to ask, and instead pile some unadventurous fettuccine into your bowl.

Julianna picks up the telephone again and you let yourself relax as her conversation begins. She picks at her food and talks in Italian down the line, staring straight at you as she says the word, ‘principessa’. You don’t have to be a linguistics expert to know she’s talking about you. Eventually, her attention fades. Remus relaxes with you.

“This spoon,” he corrects, before opening his book and sagging into his seat.

You're famished, but now all this rich food is making you feel sick. You pick at your fettuccine alfredo and a little of the cioppino. Weirdly, you miss the ordinary smells of your kitchen. You think you might prefer a white bread sandwich and a packet of crisps.

A figure moves behind you, James shadow shifting to cover your hands. “Unladylike it might be,” he says, “but you’ll regret it if you don’t try the bread, princess. Freshly baked, pretty much soaked in pesto, it’s what us peasant folk fight over at the end of a shift.”

You hold your hand to a beautiful sliced baguette, “This one?”

“That’s the one.”

You pull the bread apart and enter a stodgy, olive oily sort of heaven. The only thing better than how it tastes is James' happy sound when you set aside a huge slice in a napkin and usher it behind your back, as inconspicuous as you can possibly be about it. He has no choice but to take it. You don’t look, but a telltale crunch comes quickly and poorly smothered.

Julianna excuses herself, and a maid, maybe, comes to take her plates and dirtied cutler on a silver cart. You lean toward Remus with a hand over your mouth. “What do you call them? The ladies in uniform.”

“Princess, you could call them whatever you wanted to,” James butts in. He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sits in one of the chairs facing the door and windows. He’s always on the alert.

“But what’s nicest? I don’t want to be offensive.”

“You’ll learn their names in time,” Remus says easily. “You’ll be fine. Officially, they’re ‘attendants’. Maids, cleaners. Oh, you’ll have a lady in waiting–”

“A what?”

“A personal assistant,” James says.

Your face heats up like an instant flush, all hot pinpricks and embarrassment, “No,” you beg, standing up, “please, that would be entirely unnecessary, it’s not like I’m some sort of–”

“Princess!” A familiar voice shouts. Sirius has weaselled inside the door and closed it tight, his back pressed against it for a moment like he’s keeping someone out. He wears an exuberant smile and a brilliant dark ensemble with fine pinstripes that mess with your eyes as he approaches. He’s practically running. “I’ve spoken to Delilah who’s spoken to Bella who’s spoken to Lily who’s been in contact with the legal team in charge of Y/N’s care here in Genovia, and they’ve heard from the medical team who have been fighting tooth and nail to be put in talks with you,” —he looks at you now, and there’s something about his expression, part wide-eyed awe, part sympathy, that freezes you to the spot— “because it’s technically your care, and–”

“Sirius, mate, just put her out of her misery,” James says. He’s looking at you in a different way. Like he’s waiting for you to fall over.

“Your father,” Sirius says, promptly deciding to start again. “The paternity test came out positive. Your DNA is a match for the Prince, may he rest in peace. You’re a princess. You’re the princess, by blood. You’re a Thermopolis.”

There’s a stretching silence. You wrap your hand around the back of your chair and stare at the velvet upholstery of the seat.

“Terrible last name,” he adds sympathetically.

You don’t want to be the girl who faints. That would be ridiculous, to fall over and crack your head. So, though you hate to ask for anything, you mumble, “James?”

He wraps a shapely arm behind your back and under your armpit before you lose the feeling in your legs.

“I think I need to sit down again,” you say.

“Reckon you do," he agrees, as he pulls the chair out with his foot and arranges you in it efficiently, the tip of his thumb pushed into the pulse point on your neck. “We’ll get you something cold, princess. You can breathe.” He gives you a little shake, hand spreading wider as it drags down your collar. The pressure is like the safety release of a suction cup. You take in a huge breath. “Breathe. There’s a good girl.”

“I’m fine," you say meekly.

“It’s alright,” he says, with his impossible softness. He’s unafraid to be kind, even when there are people watching.

“I’m fine. I–” You can’t finish your sentence. You’d wanted to say you’ll be okay. That this is just some melodramatic episode, but it isn’t. This is a human reaction to unbelievable news. Because you’re a– you’re a princess.

You cover your face with both hands and curl in toward your thighs. Silence pervades, your ears abuzz with white noise. You aren’t sure how long you sit there paralysed, but soon James’ gentle murmuring and shushing cuts through the ringing. “It’s alright,” he’s saying, his hand at your elbow, “I swear, it’s alright. You take as long as you need.”

“Mickey’s at the door,” Sirius says.

“Good. Tell him to radio in a level two security detail and stay by the door. Who else knows, Sirius?”

“By now? Everybody in the castle. Including government officials.”

“And you’re sure?”

Sure said severely.

“Of course I am.”

You’re trying very hard to keep your pasta down. This can’t be happening. It can’t be right. Their test is wrong. They swabbed the inside of your mouth wrong, or got it mixed up with some other person test, or the doctors are lying. Not once in your whole life has there ever been any indication that you are more than the nothing you’ve always been. All your worst insecurities rip to the surface. Not me. Not me.

“Level two isn’t as bad as it sounds,” James says gently. He’s been talking to you again. “All it means is that I’m not at full attention, and I need someone else to watch the room. That’s all it is.”

“I’m not,” you say.

“You’re okay.”

“I’m not a princess,” you say, peeking at him through your parted fingers.

His hand curves around your arm. He pulls it toward him. Encouraging rather than demanding. You let him.

“Whatever it is that you are,” he says, meeting your eyes, “I’m here to take care of you. Okay? Try to calm down for me.” He nods, hoping you’ll nod back no doubt. You worry at your lip, your teeth scratching delicate skin.

“Sorry,” you say.

“No one’s expecting you to feel a certain way right now,” Sirius says. The urgency in his expression has departed completely. He has an air of regret about him now, an uncomfortable set to his jaw.

It’s not just James in the room witnessing your wobble. You cover your face again and try to become one with the furniture.

James stands off of his knees, having seemingly decided that you aren’t in any mental peril. He stays hovering behind your chair. You think you might’ve found them all at a loss for what to do.

The door opens. You imagine a nightmare, Julianna coming to play nice, but it’s the British ambassador Lily once again. She looks as perfect as she did when you saw her last with an immaculately straightened sheet of hair fluttering behind her, her steps hurried. Despite her speed, she doesn’t look unhappy. She’s smiling. Genovian ambassador (in particular, the ambassador that facilitated your movements between the two countries and the establishment of your dual citizenship status) Emmaline follows behind her.

You try to straighten up.

“We have wonderful news,” Lily says.

“You’re the princess!” Emmaline squeaks, her tiny stature no bounds for her excitement. “Welcome home!”

She begins clapping. It slows when nobody joins in.

“What?” she asks cluelessly. “Has something bad happened?”

That’s what you’re trying to work out.

—

James can hear you sniffling.

He rests his shoulders against the wall by your bedroom door and sighs. You'd held it together for hours now after the announcement, but Sirius' last amendment had toppled you over.

You have to meet your grandmother tomorrow to begin preparing for your father's funeral.

James thinks you might have reached your breaking point. He can't imagine the grief of losing a father you didn't know you had, and the stress of being pulled out of your life so suddenly, carted across Europe and left under the judgemental eyes of royals and officials with little direction. Now that the paternity test has been conclusively positive and checked by many, many professionals, your confirmed identity should hopefully provide a more stable schedule. From James perspective, the days ahead will be easy. For you, they are going to be very, very hard.

You'll meet the Queen tomorrow at breakfast. The plans for your permanent residency in Genovia will be decided. Your entire life is about to change, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Well… James doesn't really want you to stop it, but it's not entirely true that you can't. You could reject your heritage and go home to your flat, your art, your degree equivalent classes. Maybe you're crying because you're scared you don't have options.

James thinks about knocking on the door to talk to you. He meant it when he said he has a duty to all aspects of your health, the mental as well as the physical, but it's difficult to define the line between professionalism and being friendly. He's already crossed it.

He sighs and rubs his weary head. He's fucking tired. Today has been the longest day ever. You'd slept for an hour in the car from the airport to Bellaverden Castle, and James had watched you half jealous and half enraptured. He won't mind looking after you no matter how you look, but your being easy on the eyes is a brilliant plus. Well, when ignoring the huge bruise staining your cheek.

"Fuck," he says.

He hasn't been doing very well. Honestly, his failure to keep you from harm in your flat (even if the harm had been him) and then his screw up with the paparazzi…

He pulls out his pager. He should swap with one of the night guards now and he trusts them all, having picked them himself, but he wouldn't feel right walking away while you're crying.

He clicks in Remus' code and waits until he hears it back. It's shorthand between them. If he wasn't awake or didn't want to see him, Remus could've ignored James' page and there'd be no hard feelings. But he answered. Tonight, once James has made sure you're okay, he'll crawl into Remus' bed like when they were kids in a cold dormitory and missing home and sleep for a glorious eight hours. He might even tell Remus how stressed he is. He knows his friend will listen.

He'd invite Sirius, of course, (and that's assuming he isn't already there) but it's well past ten. Sirius is definitely asleep.

James hasn't had a proper night's sleep in a week. He feels poorly. He misses his mum. He's hungry. This job is great, he loves what he does; he gets paid to take care of people. It's also too much. It eats at him.

"Fuck," he says again.

"James?"

He flinches hard.

There it is, his third mistake. He's very lucky that the chief of royal security is busy making funeral arrangements, because if Mary were here she'd gut him.

You've crept up on him in his distraction and that is so fucking dangerous. How could he not notice your footsteps across the floor, or your door handle's heavy metallic thunking?

"Princess," he says, biting his tongue when you wince. He'll have to call you something else. "I'm sorry, I–" James squints at your sore eyes.

"It's okay. I just wanted to ask… are you alright?"

His shoulders hunch slightly. "Am I alright?"

You fluster. "I just heard you and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay. You sounded… stressy."

"You don't have to worry about me. That's my job." He frowns at the remnants of your tear stains, dampness shining at the corners of your eyes and your lashes sticking together in darkened triangles. "I was just about to come and see you, actually. I know today's been hard, and I know I haven't helped you. I'm so sorry, again, for your cheek. And at the airport, I know the scuffle with that photographer didn't help your nerves. I know," he stresses, "this is hard. I swear things will be smoother from now on. You have my word."

You rub your elbow wordlessly. He's about to backtrack, or perhaps dig himself a bigger hole, but you look up at him and give him one of the softest smiles anyone's ever given him in all his years.

"It's forgiven. Believe me, James, this is the least of my worries," you say, gesturing to your cheek. It only takes a second for shame to stick its hooks in you, yanking your gaze to the floor. You're wearing an expression he's seen a thousand times on the people closest to him.

He flicks you under the chin gently.

"Things are gonna get easier. I swear it," he says.

You plaster a smile on. James figures he can push it some more and wipes the smudgy shine of old tears off your cheek.

"There. Looking good, angel."

Definitely unprofessional. He keeps getting this weird feeling like you're his friend and not his charge. It's fleeting and it's making him stupid. This and the sleep deprivation. He swears to himself he'll be better tomorrow.

You bid him goodnight. He listens to your night time motions until another guard comes to release him from duty. James rushes to his room for a shower and a cereal bar, giving his teeth a half-hearted brush before setting off for Remus' room halfway across the castle. Remus and the other scarcely employed scholars don't have to sleep in the servants' quarters like he and Sirius do. Schmuck.

He finds the door unlatched. Mercifully, James decides to spare them both the safety related lecture. He tries to be as quiet as he can, but a head of sandy brown hair turns his way.

"James?" Remus asks, his voice thick with fatigue.

"Sorry. You can go back to sleep."

"I was waiting for you. Drifted off."

James scrubs a hand through his damp hair and knocks off the light. He can find his way in the dark.

"Sirius isn't here?"

"James…"

"What, are we still pretending?"

"James."

"I'm sorry. Forgive me, Moony."

"Yeah. Don't lean on my left side. I'll move over."

"What's wrong with your left side?"

"I don't know. Maybe from carrying the bags. Maybe not."

James slides into the warm space Remus has made for him and tries not to go into overprotective mode. Loving someone who's constantly in pain can be confusing. You don't know how much love you're allowed to give before it starts to look patronising.

Remus can take care of himself, but he doesn't need to.

"Anything I can do?" James whispers.

"Tell me what's bothering you."

"Oh, you know… Everything. Nothing. I'm so happy we're all together again, I mean, what are the fucking odds? How long has it been since I could come and see you guys after work without making an appointment? And I didn't love the Prince, but I hate that he's dead, and I…"

Remus turns his head to James. They're a pillow apart. When James looks at him, he can't remember what he looked like when they were young, but he can feel the years of knowing one another stretching out between them. A straining curtain of yellow light from the hallway catches the edges of Remus' features. James can see the corner of an uneven smile.

"Go on," Remus says quietly.

"She's nice. She's really nice. I don't want her to get hurt."

"James, you don't want anyone to get hurt."

"I thought this was a demotion."

"Isn't it?"

"If it is, it's one I deserve. I deserve another one. Once Mary sees the mess I've made…"

Remus reaches across the sheets to pinch James' bicep. "Nobody is good at their new job. Sirius didn't touch up the princess' bruise when we got off the plane, and while they're paid off for now, someone who needs the better payout is going to publish those photos, and soon. Sirius should've been doing his job, but he was too busy looking after me."

"I tried to cover it–"

"I know. You did a good job and I'm not blaming you, Prongs, anyway. My point is that he made a mistake. Does he deserve a demotion?"

"Ew. Hate you."

"And I should've better prepared her for meeting Princess Julianna. It was my fault that she felt embarrassed. I tried my best to fit in some coaching for breakfast tomorrow but the poor girl doesn't know a butter knife from a paring knife."

"That's not true."

"No," Remus agrees. "I'm making her seem less educated than she is to prove my own point… James, she isn't a princess. She has the blood, and soon she'll get the official title, the land and the money and the education and maybe some of the bad bits, as well. But right now, she's new to being a princess, and she's not very good at it."

"I get it."

"Yeah, I know."

Remus readjusts in bed. James almost misses the pain in his friend's exhale under the sound of crunching fresh sheets.

"Are you sure I can't do something for you?"

"I wish," Remus says. He isn't depressed. The opposite, he sounds way too spritely for the time. "You could stop hogging the blankets, for starters."

James feeds Remus some more blanket and sighs. The mattress is heavenly. The quilts and sheets and pillowcases are soft and thick. By all means, James should've fallen asleep the second his head touched anything mildly comfortable.

"You've asked Mickey to look after her tomorrow, right?" Remus asks.

James had radio'd Mikkelson after his shower to put the early morning shift and protocols in his jurisdiction temporarily. That means James will hopefully be able to sleep until his body feels like it can hold itself together again. He doesn't like leaving you to face the Queen by yourself, but it's not as if she'll hurt you, and Sirius will see you bright and early to help you get dressed. James isn't worried.

"I have. How did you know that?"

"You're the only one of us who knows how to properly take care of themselves," Remus explains easily. "Good. I'm glad you did. You haven't been sleeping."

"How do you know that?"

"I love you. I know everything about you."

James smiles at the ceiling. Beams. There is nothing quite as valuable to him than his family. He would do more to keep them all safe and healthy than he should admit on the record, so he keeps it all tucked inside and out of view. It's terrifying and freeing at once to look at someone you love and know you're going to do something awful one day if it means they'll come out on the other side of it alive.

"Not everything," he murmurs.

"Everything, James."

"Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up right now."

"One."

"Which?"

"Middle."

"Lucky guess." James laughs at their childish squabbling. "I love you too. I'm really glad we're in the same place again."

"What did you say? What are the fucking odds?" Remus quotes, so tired now that his words are running together. "I'm not sod enough to do the maths, I think it's gotta be deep in the decimals. Lily's and Mary's involvement definitely helped, but to have someone come along who needs security detail, special education, and a lady in waiting is unfathomable."

James laughs and feels his abdomen shaking. "I'm telling Sirius you called him a lady in waiting."

"Sorry," Remus says, and James knows his friend is genuinely repentant, even though Sirius would've laughed himself if he'd heard the joke. "I'm not trying to put him down. He's worked so hard, he– He's working so hard. He thinks it's easy work because he's good at it. He doesn't realise it's easy because he worked very very hard to be good at it."

James has to chew it over for a moment to understand what Remus is saying. Once he understands, he vehemently agrees. Sirius is skilled in so many areas. He can style both a model and their wardrobe spontaneously. He's a media liaison, a sleuth, a sweet talker. He understands the inner workings of Western media — Sirius can deduce the honesty of a smile from a precursory glance. He may not always trust what he's seeing, but he sees it undeniably.

"He's the best of us," James sighs agreeably, stretching down the length of the bed until his spine pops and his calves burn. "Shit. I need to start working out properly again now we're here."

"Tomorrow. We'll figure it all out tomorrow, James. Go to sleep."

James is obedient. He falls asleep, and doesn’t wake until the sun is warming his cheeks. His hair is still damp and he feels awful in a new way. Better for having slept with someone close by, and catching up on the hours he’s been missing. But his back is stiff.

He goes back to his room. His neck aches as he brushes his teeth. He does a workout in the small space of his room and stretches out his rigid limbs until he feels human again.

The black telephone on his nightstand starts to ring. He hates them. He wishes the royals would go back to bells.

“Hello, sir,” Lily says cheerfully down the line. James can picture her sweet smile. “I couldn’t help but notice your absence this morning.”

“How did it go?” he asks, trying to tug on a new pair of socks one handed.

Lily hums. “It wasn’t awful. It wasn’t good, but it could’ve been worse. Her majesty liked her. Y/N was quiet, she was awkward, but we all know they prefer quiet to mouthy. The last thing they wanted was another Julianna. I felt kind of bad, really. Like I was handing her over.”

“She…” James sighs. “She didn’t seem upset, did she, Lils?”

“No, I actually think she was feeling good. Your boys took good care of her.”

“Brilliant. Oh, and to answer your unasked question, I’m being slovenly. I’ll be back on duty by noon.”

“Slovenly,” she repeats. “I’ve never known you to be any sort of lazy.” She laughs. James is happy that the sound doesn’t break his heart anymore. “Alright, James. I’ll see you later.”

He appreciates what she’s doing, letting him know you’re okay while he’s away. It’s uncanny how fast the people in charge of your care can band together.

James gives himself a minute to wipe away yesterday and prepare for today. He closes his eyes and shakes his head ferociously, his hair flying every which way. He sorts through all his worries one by one, letting that anxiety eat at him methodically —he’s a bad bodyguard, he’s a bad friend, he doesn’t call his mum enough, he’s chicken shit scared of dying alone, the works— and then pushing it away. Today is a new day with new opportunities. He can prove to you and to himself that he’s good at his job, he can make sure his friends are doing alright, he can call his mum tonight before dinner, and dying alone? He isn’t dying today. So that one’s on the back burner.

He makes his way from his room in the quarter and into the main building, wary that he might come upon a duke or duchess. His radio, clipped as it always is against his left shoulder, chirps with chatter. He bites back a scolding about keeping the line clear and looks out the huge glass windows at the grounds below. A marble water fountain spurts proudly at the foot of the stairs, and an elaborate hedgework stands at pruned attention. It’s a nice day. He wonders if you’ll be up for walking.

He looks for you in the secondary parlour, the den, the library, the dining room. He swings by your room, and when you aren’t there he admits defeat and unclamps his radio, cutting through an inappropriate joke unapologetically.

“Afternoon. Location on Princess Y/N?”

He imagines his subordinates scrambling to answer, embarrassed by their unprofessionalism, but it’s likely they just don’t know where you are.

“If I don’t get an answer in the next five seconds, you can all expect to be running laps tonight. That includes you, Mikkelson, I don’t care how much overtime–”

“Sir, this is Daniels. Me and Roma are with the princess in the south wing.”

“Why?”

“She wanted a pencil sharpener.”

James grins to himself. The south wing (or, as James might put it, the guest wing), houses the scholars, the ambassadors, and whatever government official the royals are trying to butter up at the time. He’s feeling positively joyful when he finds you, sketching away with your face pressed to the window. The genovian mountainscapes take shape on your page one confident stroke of graphite at a time, a small leather bound sketchbook pressed flat to your knee.

“Settling in?” he asks.

You raise your head but not your eyes. “You could say that.”

“How was meeting Her Majesty?”

You frown.

“That bad?” he asks.

“No, I mean. You know. She’s a queen. It was terrifying.”

Despite your unhappy mouth, you look as relaxed as you have since the moment he met you. You’re in what’s clearly a casual Genovian dress, what with the subtle but remarkable stitching a shade darker than the dress itself and the squared neckline. Your calves are out and glossy in the daylight. They’re rather distracting.

“You look good,” James says carefully.

“I’ll miss the fancy lotions,” you say. Your pencil scratches away.

James’ hands falter where they’re clasped behind his back. “What?”

You meet his eyes properly. He hadn’t realised you’d been avoiding his gaze until you weren’t, your face ringed with guilt, an explanation slow to come.

“I’m not staying. I can’t be a princess, James.” You shake your head mildly. “I’m going home.”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks so much for reading! oh no, you want to go home!! rest assured, james and co aren’t letting you go too easily. i hope you enjoyed, reblogs are always appreciated, a thousand kisses for all of you either way <3<3

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