#and once again... you completely miss in the vanilla camera angles

[leopardmuffinxo]

BLESS YOU FOR MAKING THAT GIFSET OF HALSIN'S ROMANCE SCENE.

Because, srsly, his romance scene needs to be DISSECTED frame by frame 🥵😩

eeeep! you're welcome nonny. ♡

i think my favorite freecam find in his romance scene is this particular animation. him smiling against Tav's mouth after throwing them against a tree. just being completely enamored with you. especially since he probably was under the impression he messed up his chance with you with the whole bear transformation. nope, you're still here. ♡

[duchessfics]

Business and Pleasure Part 3

Billie x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): NSFW, Cunninlingus, Fingering, D/s Dynamics, Some Language

Summary: This is the first time seeing Billie since having sex with her, but how do you navigate your working obligations and your feelings for Billie? And does she even feel the same way or are you expendable? 

Word Count: 6210

A/n: Here’s part 3! I have a family gathering so if there’s errors I’m sorry! I’m trying to post this really fast. 😬 This one is less fluffy, but I still think it’s not too angsty. Definitely not as angsty as A Lasting Mark pt. 4. 😅 I hope you enjoy! 

Part 2

After having Saturday off, on Sunday morning you wake up at 7:00 in the morning to get ready for the day and find yourself putting a little more effort into your makeup and hair. It’s not that you didn’t before, but it feels different when you see a person who you like and realize the feelings are reciprocated.

By 8:00 you’re out the door and driving over to Billie’s house. However, on the way there you stop at a nearby Starbucks to get her usual order: a grande nitro cold brew in a venti cup with two shots of espresso, two pumps hazelnut syrup, one pump vanilla syrup, a splash of almond milk, and a light sprinkling of cinnamon on top. You just order an iced coffee with an extra shot of espresso to keep you going. But you’re not finished yet.

Next you drive to McDonalds and buy the medium’s guilty pleasure: a sausage biscuit with hash browns. There weren’t many details in the NDA you signed when hired by Billie, but one of them was not disclosing her favorite breakfast choice or how much she ate it.

After purchasing the items, you speed over to the medium’s house so the items are fresh and before you get out of the car, you put the sausage biscuit and hash browns into a Starbucks bag you specifically requested to partially conceal her meal of choice, leaving the discarded fast food bag in your car. Because you’re working today, you let yourself in and hear Billie speaking from the nearby sunroom.

So you walk to the room that’s always so sunny and warm because of the expansive windows that span from floor to ceiling along the length of one of the walls. This is one of your favorite rooms in Billie’s home because you can see her polished backyard and it never fails to impress anyone who sees this gorgeous view, including yourself.

Billie sits in one of her cushioned chairs facing the windows so the natural light illuminates her face while one person does her makeup and another person fixes her hair. When she sees you walking in, a smile forms on her lips making your cheeks warm.

Fuck. Keep cool. Just like you practiced: calm, cool and collected.

“Morning, sweetheart.” She greets you. You give her a smile back but try not to act out of the ordinary since there’s others around. It’s not like the stylists take much notice. They’re used to you being around and are busy working on Billie. But honestly��you want to tread carefully. You sport a polite smile when you reply, “Good morning, Miss Howard. I got a small breakfast for you.” Then you hand her the coffee and paper bag with her food items.

That makes her eyes light up and she tells you, “Thank you.” letting her fingers linger on yours for a second longer than necessary. Before you can get too flustered you back up take out your legal pad filled with notes from your tote bag and say, “While you eat and get your hair and makeup done, I can tell you what to expect for the interview.” After finishing your sentence, you glance up and she says, “Go on.” Waving her hand as an emphasis.

You look to your notes and try to hide how your hands tremble in nerves. It feels like it’s your first day with her all over again. Then you clear your throat and begin, “The person interviewing you will be Robin Harker. She works in the television and film section of the New York Times and has interviewed Jennifer Aniston and Chris Evans in the past year.”

You venture to look up again and her response is to nod you on with a casual smile while throwing her hash brown packet in the bag.

What did you expect? For her to drop everything and proclaim her love for you? Get real. This is Hollywood.

So you continue with your notes, “I read through those interviews to get an idea of what to expect for questions and came up with some possibilities.”

“In both interviews she asked about how they got started and I’m sure she’ll ask you too. A couple ideas for responses are to explain the first time you saw an apparition and what that felt like. Or you could explain what inspired you to start a TV show documenting something so intimate. Those reading won’t be interested in the production details of a tv show. Something that will keep their attention is reading about the phenomenon of capturing the paranormal on camera. Sensory terms always keep people interested.

“I would also expect a question about what a typical day on you tv show is like. People will want to know things like if you see ghosts every day, how you prepare and protect yourself, and what happens after the cameras shut off. Basically, how you decompress. My suggestion would be to use more general terms. Crystals and stones are very popular at the moment so you could mention that. On the other hand, I would stay away from talking about essential oils, perhaps choosing incense or sage instead. There could also be a certain tea you drink or a bath product you use. 

“I don’t mean to repeat myself, but the key is incorporating the five senses. For example, with your white light of protection you could explain how that feels both physically and mentally. Maybe you feel an electricity to it. The reader wants to feel a special connection and resonate with your words. The happy middle is sounding exclusive enough to stand out, but also relatable.”

You pause for a moment, knowing this is a lot. But this time you don’t look up before speaking, 

“I promise I’m almost done. The final thing I would expect is a question about the validity of communicating with the paranormal. Rather than trying to reason with science, it will be more effective to take the angle of how much we don’t know. And how the concept of communicating with ancestors or non-human beings is not new and has been around that for thousands if not millions of years. You’re just using the tools available in the 21st century to provide insight and more information.

“There is also a chance that she’ll mention the influx of phony mediums out to make money on people’s grief. But if you bring up the large amount of people who claim to be doctors, psychologists, lawyers, and other professionals and base their knowledge off of google searches it should be sufficient. You can also remind her that viewers can take as much or as little as they want from the show. But don’t put it on them too much. People don’t like being blamed even if it’s the truth.”

You take a deep breath and pause a moment before slowly asking, “Does that make sense?” When you look up from your notes her face is partially obscured by the make up artist applying finishing touches. But she hesitantly replies, “I think so.” You back up a little to keep out of the way and assure her, “In case you forget something, I put the basics of what I said on a couple of post-it notes.”

Right away the medium lets out a sigh of relief and tells you, “Oh, thank you, sweetheart.” Your body warms at the praise and you’re glad you don’t have to look at her directly in this moment. Instead you calmly reply, “You’re welcome. I’ll plug in an extension cord with your charger so there won’t be a risk of your computer shutting down. And I’ll set up the post-it notes so you’ll be ready to go.”

When you begin to walk away, you hear Billie praise, “You really are an angel.” You smile and look back to thank her. However, it feels like a punch to your gut when you see she looks at her reflection and speaks to the makeup artist.

Shit. That hurt more than it should. You should’ve never done anything. There’s a reason for professional boundaries.

Before anyone can take notice, you step over to the formal sitting room that’s set up to look casual without being used.

Fortunately, the laptop and table are already set up so you begin your search for an extension cord, a sun filter to make her look well-lit, her wireless headphones, a box of tissues, and a water bottle. Finding all of those items is a job in itself. Then you start to set up, placing the laptop so it’s able to keep connected to the charging cable and you use the laptop’s camera on yourself to find the best angle.

It’s much quicker to complete the tasks of setting the water bottle and tissue box nearby but out of frame. Next you place the sticky notes along the top border of her laptop screen, but not obscuring the camera. So if she needs to reference them, she won’t have to look down. 

Finally, you position the filter and set her fully charged wireless ear buds that are still in their case right beside the laptop’s keyboard. Once you’re finished you stand back to admire the set-up, feeling proud of yourself.

You may have screwed up in fucking your boss, but you’re a damn good assistant.

“Well look at this.”

You whip around and hate the fact that your heart flutters when you hear Billie’s voice. This time she’s alone and saunters up to you with a familiar smirk. Before you can make direct eye contact with her eyes and melt into a puddle of affection, you back up and gesture to the table while saying, “I think this should be everything you need.” She looks to the table and lets out a satisfied hum, but quickly returns her gaze to yours before purring, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, y/n.”

Then she moves to take your hand, but in your panic and self-preservation you back away, stammering, “I-I actually need to make a couple phone calls. And emails. Plus, I-I wouldn’t want to mess up your make up.”

For the first time you actually see her suave expression crack and you feel horrible right away. You know she needs to go into this interview feeling good, so you take both of her hands with your own and soothe, “I’m sorry, Billie. I didn’t mean to come off harsh. After this I’ll have lunch all ready for us to eat.”

Her lips return a half smile, but her brown eyes still flicker with doubt. So you continue and genuinely mean it when you say, “I know you’ll knock this interview out of the park. She’ll love you.” Then you place a light kiss to her cheek, taking care to not disrupt her makeup.

By now her confident demeanor is restored and you ask, “Do you need anything else before the interview?” She smirks and lowly teases while squeezing your hands, “I can think of a couple things, but we wouldn’t have the time.” You roll your eyes at the comment, but smile and ask, “Well would you like anything specific for lunch?” 

Billie pauses for a moment before answering, “I’ll take some…Mexican food. I’ll say a taco salad.” You nod and tell her, “One taco salad will be out there for you when you’re done.” Then you release her hands and say, “I have your phone so there won’t be any interruptions, but if you need anything at all I have your messages set up on your laptop. And I told housekeeping to not do anything too loud or come around to clean this part of the house for the next two hours. So you should be good to go.”

Her eyebrows raise and she comments, “You’ve really thought about everything, haven’t you?” The compliment makes you look down and stammer, “Well I—I try to.” She chuckles at your bashful demeanor and murmurs, “I should thank you for getting all of this ready for me, sweetheart.” 

You dare to look at her face and reply, “I’m just doing my job. But I’m glad you’re happy with it. I’ll see you at lunch.” Then you wish her luck one more time before walking out. After closing the door, you lean back against it, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to re-center yourself.

Stop overthinking this. Pull yourself together and move on. You can look for another client after these two weeks. That’s it and you can make it two weeks. You’ve got this. You can handle anything for two weeks…

An hour and a half later Billie enters the kitchen to see you setting up her requested lunch with a freshly made strawberry lemonade to drink. She struts over and takes a seat at the island while saying, “Thank god. I’m starving.” You smile at her hyperbolic statement and watch her begin to eat. Then you return to your seat at the island next to the blonde to finish the remnants of your burrito.

Not wanting to stir up anything between you two, you ask, “Did the interview go alright?” She nods and replies after swallowing her bite, “It went exactly as your notes said. Of course there were some additional questions, but they were manageable.” Then the medium turns to face you and teases with grin, “It’s almost like you know what you’re doing.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment and you look down to your plate, resting your chin on one of your hands as you twirl your fork in the remnants and murmur, “I only write down some tips. It’s your charisma that makes it good.” Billie chuckles and comments, “We make a good team.” For a moment you still your movements and glance at her out of the corner of your eye. But she’s looking to her salad. However, her gaze meets yours and she compliments, “Your hair and makeup look good today, sweetheart.”

She noticed. Billie Dean Howard noticed.

You can’t contain your smile but look back down to your plate before meekly saying, “Thank you.”

Billie continues to eat her meal while you throw away your takeout plate and utensils. Then you empty the clean dishes out of the dishwasher. However she breaks the silence by asking, “Did anything come up while I was in the interview?” You shake your head, finishing up as you respond, “Nothing for you to worry about. Just some requests for you to promote different products or companies.”

So she picks up her halfway finished beverage and tells you, “In that case I’m going to start packing things. But I’ll have my phone on me if you need me.” You automatically nod and try to conceal the crack in your voice when you reply, “Of course. And don’t worry about your trash. I’ve got it covered.” The blonde gives you her devastating smile and purrs, “You’re the best.” The butterflies in your stomach make a reappearance and you shyly tell her thank you before she steps out of the room.

After making sure she’s gone you let out a breath and lose the façade of being perfectly okay with everything. You try not to take it personally, but her distance affects your replies to phone calls and emails you respond to. Of course, you don’t sound upset or disgruntled. You remain professional, but don’t have the zeal and passion you usually have.

By late afternoon, you’ve contacted everyone who contacted you on her behalf. So you go onto google and search for PA openings. If nothing else you can leave at the height of her tv premier and make a clean break. However, before you can get to the second page, Billie texts you, “Could you come upstairs to my bedroom for a minute?”

Knowing her needs are your first priority, you exit out of the website and quickly reply, “Of course. Headed there now.” Then you trudge up the stairs, trying not to have any expectations.

When you enter her bedroom, she has numerous different clothing items laid out on the bed and you hear her rustling around in her massive closet that’s a room in itself. But she must hear you enter because she walks into the main room and says with a smile, “Y/n, just who I wanted to see.”

She sets the clothes that were draped over her arm onto the bed as she says, “I need some advice.” You step a little closer and reply, “I’ll try to help.” So she holds up one hanger that holds a silky, floral blouse and another that has a simple ivory undershirt with a dusty pink cardigan over it. Then she looks to you and asks, “Which one do you think looks better?”

You bite your lip and look between the tops, hoping this isn’t a test. Then you slowly answer, “I think they both look good…but the cardigan and shirt would be more conducive to the cooler temperatures in New York.” Billie grins and takes your advice right away, setting it next to her suitcase, however you hold up your hands and tell her, “Wait, I’m no fashion expert or anything. I can call your stylist to come over.” 

The blonde chuckles and purrs, “Sweetheart, the only opinion I care about is yours. Now help me out with these other shirt options.”

The choices start off innocent enough, but soon she’s having you choose her sleepwear and intimates. While the whole thing feels a little arousing, you keep to the other side of her California king bed trying to be extra cautious. But she foils that plan by suggesting, “How about I try these dresses on and you can tell me which one looks better.” That makes you pause, but you can’t deny your curiosity to see her after she’s seen all of you.

And if she really didn’t want you to see her, she could change in her bathroom or closet.

So you nod and rasp with your suddenly dry throat, “Ok.” But her smile grows, and she asks in a voice dripping with innocence, “Y/n, would you be a dear and unzip me?”

You know exactly what she’s doing. But are you really upset? You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted since this morning.

At this point your throat feels too dry to speak so you dumbly nod and walk over to her side.

The medium’s eyes sparkle in lust and mischief when she purrs, “Thank you, sweetheart.” Then she turns so her back is to you and you walk up, feeling like you’re in a trance as so many emotions run through you at once.

The first thing you do is gather her silky smooth hair in your hand and drape it over one of her shoulders so most of it is out of the way, save for a few stray curls. Immediately her jasmine perfume envelops you and she doesn’t miss your deep inhale of the intoxicatingly sweet fragrance. Then your trembling fingers come up to the top of her dress and you take the zipper between your thumb and pointer finger, struggling to keep a grip of it with your shaky hands.

The room is quiet enough to hear the zipper slide down the back of her dress, stopping at the small of her back. You look to the well-endowed swell of her ass but flick your eyes up before she can catch you. 

Billie twists her head to look back at you and once again your faces are inches apart from each other. Rather than saying anything, she leans towards you with hooded eyes and presses a light, questioning kiss. Then her eyes look to see your reaction and you reciprocate, slowly brushing your lips against hers.

Both of you move slowly while Billie fully turns around to face you and places her hands on the small of your back. The way you both take your time cautiously opening up to each other makes it seem like it’s your first kiss. But it feels nice to slow down and savor the moment. 

This time when you smooth your hands up the exposed skin of her back she doesn’t protest. Rather she presses up against your body even more to get closer. So you work on the clasp of her bra and somehow undo on the first try.

Your lips part from each other and she helps you shrug off her dress and bra so the only items she wears are her panties and her pearl necklace. You pause and look over every part, trying to take in every detail. Meanwhile the blonde just smiles and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear while crooning, “You like what you see, sweetheart?” Your eyes scan up her toned middle, briefly pausing at her rounded, perky breasts, before ascending past the string of pearls on her neck to her proud face.

You’re practically drooling when you whimper, “Yes. Billie you look…god you look perfect.” Her cheeks threaten to turn red while her smile expands and she murmurs, “Just like you do.”

Automatically you shake your head and look down so your hair falls forward to guard your face. But her hands cup your face and guide you to look back at her. Her palms feel smooth against the sides of your face when she kisses your lips and affirms, “You are perfect, honey. Now, how about you make yourself more comfortable and take off those clothes for me.”

In the far reaches of your mind, the thought of confronting her about everything passes through. But Billie Dean Howard is here, completely exposed to you and you don’t want to stop.

Your eyes flick down and you grin as you reply, “O-ok.” So she backs up to let you pull off your shirt and bra. But when you move close, she places a finger on your sternum in the valley between your breasts and says, “Ah, ah, ah, pants too.” You bite your lip to conceal your demure smile, ducking your head as you tug your pants down. After kicking them aside you come back up to the medium and being to kiss her again.

While it felt nice to kiss Billie the other day, actually feeling her flesh brush and meld against yours makes it even better. Every time you think you’ve peaked; she takes you higher than before. When you break to catch your breath, Billie breathes, “Where do you want me, sweetheart?” 

Your brows furrow and she grins before asking the same question. The thought of ordering her around sends a thrill through you and you look around the room before hesitantly saying, “On the edge of the bed.” The medium nods and playfully answers with a wicked grin, “Yes, mistress.”

Now that makes you laugh and tell her, “If anyone is a mistress it’s you.” You move her clothes that were laid out on the bed to the side so they won’t get in the way and the blonde helps while teasing, “I’ll grant you the title of mistress for one day.”

Without thinking you roll your eyes at the supposed ‘generosity,’ making Billie raise her eyebrow and say, “Unless you don’t want to do this?” You place your hands on her shoulders and push her to sit on the bed while quickly answering, “I do!”

Your intense reaction makes her chuckle and purr, “Well your wish is my command, sweetheart.” Your body simmers with arousal and you guide her legs apart enough to step between them. Then you look down at Billie’s face and your hands come up to cup her face. In response she slides her hands up to rest on the swell of your hips. 

However, you raise your eyebrow and mimic her when you ask, “Did I give you permission to touch me?” Billie takes her hands away and looks up to you through her long lashes when she says, “Sorry, mistress.” Letting her lower lip jut out enough to give a perfect pout before biting down on it. The way she worries her lower lip drives you wild.

But you want to tease her more. Why not take this opportunity all the way?

So you lean in to kiss her lips, but when she leans up to meet you, you back up to kiss the tip of her nose.

Her darkened eyes glow and the blonde chuckles before murmuring, “Such a tease, y/n.” That makes you giggle and this time when you lean down to kiss her, you meet her desired location. And even though your lips and tongues intertwine with each other, Billie stays true to her word and lets you lead her along. So you keep going, and don’t move her hands back when she smooths them up your thighs and pulls you closer to her after gripping your hips.

For once she’s the one who gasps for air and you take the opportunity to place slow, deliberate kisses along her jawline down to her neck. Your lips gently kiss and suck at the delicate skin of her neck, but pause when Billie moans, “Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart, this feels amazing. But I don’t know if the makeup artist will appreciate having to cover multiple hickeys for filming tomorrow.”

On no. You completely forgot about that.

You automatically back up and stammer, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Billie. I never even though about that.” She silences you with a kiss and soothes, “It’s ok, sweetheart.” But the medium can tell you’re pulled out of the immersion so her thumbs brush along the swell of your hips and she purrs with a smile, “Now what do you want me to do, mistress?” 

Her reassuring smile makes you smile and respond, “Stay.” Then you gently kiss down her neck to her collarbone. Along the way your lips brush against her pearl necklace, but when she moves to take it off you command, “No.” Her eyebrows raise, but she grins and answers, “Yes mistress.” Those words send shivers down your spine and by the low hum of amusement emitted from her throat you can tell she knows.

Then you resume your descent starting at her collarbones down to the swell of her luscious breasts. The medium gasps when you take one of her nipples in your mouth and tease her by sucking and nibbling at her sensitive bud. You look up to her face to see she closely watches you use your mouth on her one nipple while you tease the other with your fingers. 

Then you switch sides and by the time you’re finished with her buds they are peaked and stiff. The sound of breathy moans and whimpers is unfamiliar to your ears, but progressively gets louder when you continue down to her navel. After teasing it with your tongue enough to make her gasp, you back up and pull off her lacy, cream-colored thong.

Once the garment is cast aside you take a moment to look at her most intimate area practically dripping with arousal. Then you look up to Billie with wide eyes and your mouth slightly gaped in shock. Before you can ask, she smiles and croons, “That’s all for you, baby.”

That’s all you. She gets that aroused because of you.

Your eyes gloss over with a concoction of happiness and unbridled lust and rather than taking the time to instruct, you grasp her legs and place them over your shoulders. Then you lean close and inhale her sweetness before delving your tongue into her velvety folds.

Her muscled calves flex against your back and she moans, “Oh god.” as your mouth sucks and licks at every part of her. But she lets out a guttural moan when you find her clit. Her low sounds of pleasure go straight to your own soaked pussy and you can’t help but squeeze your thighs in need. You look up to her face while you continue to tease her sensitive pearl and see she watches you with lust-blown eyes and her lower lip worried between her teeth. 

You grin and back away before taunting, “Now don’t hold back, Billie. I want to hear all of those pretty little sounds you make.” That makes the blonde toss her head back in laughter before breathily praising, “Wow, you’re pretty good at this whole dominatrix role.” Even now her praise drives you wild. You grin up at her and reply, “I learned from the best.” Before diving back in.

This time her head falls back for an entirely different reason and she groans, “Fuck, sweetheart, that feels so good.” Her words make your stomach warm in arousal and you increase your movements driven by her praises in words and moans of pleasure.

Before long Billie crosses her ankles behind your back, effectively pulling you close to her pussy and unable to back up like before. But you couldn’t care less. Eating her out feels like everything you want and more. Your mouth mercilessly sucks and nips at her sensitive nub and she whimpers in a higher tone than even her regular tone, “Just like that, baby. I’m almost there.”

You happily listen to her request and within a minute her legs lock up, keeping you in a vice-like grip while she gasps. Then she cries out and unravels before your eyes, moaning and whimpering in a way that sounds like music to your ears while you lick up all of the sweet nectar she provides.

Before you get the chance to rile her up, she takes her legs off of you and scoots further back on the bed as she breathes, “C’mere sweetheart.” You whine at leaving her sweet core but listen and she guides you to straddle her lap so you face each other again.

You cross your legs behind the blonde so your ankles rest against the small of her back and wrap your arms around her neck before dipping your head to kiss Billie’s lips. She smiles against you and slides her hands up your back while kissing back, not afraid of getting a taste of herself. Even though you wished to remain buried in the juncture of her thighs a moment ago, being held close in her embrace as she takes your breath away is nowhere near a downgrade.

When you pause to catch your breath, you still keep your forehead down against hers and ask, “I take it you liked it?” She gives that warm chuckle that feels like an embrace in itself and purrs, “Oh I loved it, sweetheart.” Then you let out a squeak of surprise at her hand sliding beneath the elastic band of your panties.

How did she sneak her hand around to your front without you even noticing?

Your small sound causes her to smirk and she says with a dramatically innocent voice, “Let’s see how you’re doing.” And that smirk on her lips morphs into a shit-eating grin when her fingers slide down to find your core practically dripping with slick.

Your hips roll of their own accord when the pads of her two fingers brush against your clit. The instinctual reaction prompts Billie’s eyebrows to raise and she begins to make torturously slow circles over your sensitive bud. Meanwhile your arms shift so your hands can grip her shoulders while whimpering, “I’m not going to last long.”

The blonde giggles at your claim and leans up to kiss your lips, gradually moving her hand faster. Then she gets closer so she’s right beside your ear when she murmurs, ‘Are you all worked up from telling me what to do?”

Oh, you are definitely not going to last long at all.

A gasp leaves your lips and you shift in her lap responding, “Yes.” Now she moves her fingers in a steady motion and purrs, “But I think you liked something else too. I think you liked licking my pussy until I came. Is that what’s got you all hot and bothered, sweetheart? Acting so dirty and eating me out has you nearly creaming yourself?” 

Her words prompt you to cry out, “Oh god, yes!” squeezing her shoulders and letting your head fall forward.

Her pearls feel cool against your perspiring forehead and her fingers speed up to the point of making you get those pre-orgasm twitches as Billie taunts, “Are you gonna cum, y/n?” Your eyes slam shut and you moan, “Yes!” 

However somewhere in the recesses of your mind you remember her comment about good girls and whip your head up to look at Billie before blurting out, “Wait! I mean, can I please cum Billie?” The golden flecks in her darkened orbs spark in approval and with a satisfied smirk she responds, “Good girl. Go ahead and cum for me, baby.”

Your eyes slam shut just before a burst of white light shows up and you desperately cling to the medium, toes curling as high-pitched moans and whimpers fall out of you.

This time your aftershocks pass sooner and when she withdraws her two coated fingers you watch her languidly suck off any remnants of your juices. You’re still in a daze when she asks, “Do you wanna know what you taste like?” 

Your brows furrow, but…you can’t deny that you are a little curious. And Billie had no problem indulging in herself. So you nod, albeit hesitantly. She chuckles at your timid behavior and teases, “I promise it’s good.” Then she takes your chin by her thumb and index finger to tilt your head down to meet her lips.

The taste has a tangy bite to it but also a subtle sweetness similar to the blonde, but not quite the same. Before you even realize it, your tongues are tangling with each other and your lips search and press for one another.

It feels so nice to be so close to Billie without all of the glitz and glamour. You’re together, unguarded, and sharing a passionate exchange for both parties. All that has stock in the world is you and her. However, eventually you have to breathe.

So you reluctantly break from her lips and come closer to tuck your head into the crook of her neck. At the same time your hands move to her back so you can hug her close. Her lips come down to rest on the crown of your head and you feel her lips curve into a smile. Then she shifts so her cheek rests against you, softly teasing, “I still need to try those dresses on.” 

However she makes no move to get up.

So you snuggle further in, tightening your arms and legs around her and murmur into her hair, “Pack the red one.” She chuckles and smoothes her hands along the length of your back while asking, “What about the other one?” 

You let out a sigh of contentment and bury your face further into the bend of her neck to conceal your embarrassment as you reply, “Than one looks good…But the red one…it’s flattering at all angles…and it hugs your form well…Trust me the red one will turn heads.”

She laughs and leans close to your ear when she murmurs, “I’ll pack it for you, baby.” Her voice immediately calms your nerves and you feel at home in her arms. After sitting in silence for a moment, you mumble against her neck, “What would you like for dinner?” 

She slides her hands down to grip your ass as she replies, “You.” And that provokes your higher-toned schoolgirl giggle. Then you say, “Ok besides that.” Her lips trail down the side of your face until she reaches your jawline and murmurs, “How about…Italian.”

You feel her hands massaging your butt and before things get too heated you ease into sitting up straight to see her brown eyes slowly scanning over you. But you cup her face with your hands and guide her to look at your face, saying, “I’ll get dinner ready and you can finish packing. Ok?” 

She grins and turns her face to kiss one of your palms before she teases, “As long as you can be dessert.” Then she moves further up to kiss the pulse point on your wrist and purrs, “And an evening snack.” Then she kisses the inside of your forearm, looking to you with a mischievous grin as she continues, “And a midnight treat.”

You shake your head at her behavior, but chuckle and respond, “Ok.” The medium smirks in victory and releases you from her hold. You slowly stand up, making sure to not lose your balance and throw on your clothes. 

Before you walk out, Billie takes your shoulder and turns you to face her. You look to her with a questioning gaze and she pecks your lips, but keeps close when she purrs, “I’ll see you in a bit. Oh, and be warned, my stamina is insatiable.” That makes you giggle, and you assure her, “I think I’m up for the challenge.” Then Billie releases you with a smile and you walk out to the kitchen, not regretting spending the night here whatsoever.

Tagged:  @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess​, @natasha-danvers​

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

[marvelous-writer]

Revenge With A Side Of Avenging

Summary: In which Peter is kidnapped and wakes up tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse, struggling to remember exactly how he got there.

Word Count: 2,207

Genre: whump, emotional hurt/comfort

Link to read on AO3

A/N: Day one of @whumptober2020

The first thing Peter registers is pain, a horrible pounding at the back of his head, radiating to his eyes and all the way down his neck. It feels almost as if the throbbing is in sync with his heartbeat.

Peter lets out a groan as he goes to reach up to touch his head, but he finds that he’s unable to lift his arms. He opens his heavy eyes, blinking away the stubborn blurriness he’s met with, only to find that he’s wrapped in thick rope, bound to an extremely uncomfortable chair.

That doesn’t make any sense... how did he get wrapped up in rope?

He sluggishly blinks as he lifts his head, only managing to limply roll it on his shoulder. He’s in a large dark space, the only amount of light coming from the small windows surrounding the place. There are a few stacked boxes surrounding him, looking a little like a warehouse of sorts.

What’s he doing in a warehouse?

The last memory he can recall is walking off stage with the decathlon team after they won the final round against Cal Tech... and that journalist walking up to him and wanting to ask a few questions on their win... but something ended up hitting Peter on the back of his head when they stepped out in the hallway.

Oh, right—the reporter knocked him out.

But why would someone knock out and kidnap a high schooler from a decathlon competition, of all places? Unless it has something to do with Tony or knowing that Peter is Spider-Man.

That’s not good. Peter distantly thinks, panic freely flowing through him at the sudden realization.

May and Tony were both in the audience, so they have to know he’s missing by now, right? They have to. They were going to go to that new Italian place down the street from the Tower after the competition. Peter wanted to get some cannoli for dessert, too.

Mmh... cannoli, stuffed with chocolate and vanilla, topped with deliciously fluffy whipped cream.

No no no. He can’t be thinking about food at a time like this. He has to focus on getting out of this place, wherever the heck he is.

Peter closes his eyes, trying to listen for any sounds that could give him a clue as to where he is, but he’s met with an unsettling silence. He can’t smell any traces of salt in the air, so he can’t be near the Hudson. So... maybe he’s someplace upstate? Hopefully that means the team will be able to find him faster.

Maybe he could try to get out of these ropes? Surely whoever took him would have used something a lot stronger than rope if they knew he’s Spider-Man. So maybe they didn’t know that little detail.

Peter weakly pulls at the ropes, wincing as they painfully dig into his arms. This isn’t right. He should be able to break out of these easily. Either he got hit on the head way harder than he thought... or they drugged him. That would explain why he can’t think straight at the moment.

Peter drops his head forward in defeat as he lets his impossibly heavy eyes slip shut—he’s so tired.

Tony will find him. He’s probably out there right now with the team looking for him, and May—she’s probably at home, freaking out about where Peter is. They have to know he’s missing.

For now, maybe Peter can get a little more sleep since it looks like he’s not going anywhere. Maybe all his super-metabolism needs is a little jumpstart to get rid of whatever sleepy drug he was injected with.

Tony’s coming. Peter hazily thinks to himself, feeling the last remains of consciousness slipping away from him.

It’s the last thought he has before darkness consumes him.

….

Awareness comes back to Peter all at once, as well as a painful stinging on his face from someone slapping him. He opens his eyes with a gasp as all of his senses come back on all at once, lights and sounds attacking him from every angle. He slams his eyes shut with a pained groan, letting his chin drop to his chest.

“Ah, welcome to the land of the living, Mr. Parker.”

Peter jumps at the sudden voice, as much as the ropes around him will allow. He weakly lifts his head, squinting against the harsh LED lighting, suddenly realizing that there are way more lights than there were before he passed out. There are at least three tripod work lights surrounding him, all facing him.

“Well aren’t you going to say hello to our captivated audience?”

A figure moves out of the darkness to stand in front of one of the lights, blocking a little bit of the light, but not allowing Peter to get a good look at them. The figure gestures to something to his right, and that’s when Peter sees it—a video camera hooked up to a tripod.

This can’t be good.

Peter licks his dry lips. “W-Where am I? Who are you?” He asks, hating how raspy his voice comes out.

The figure laughs. “So many questions and so little answers. I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Peter.”

A cold shiver races down his spine hearing his name. The figure steps away from the light, their shoes clicking against the concrete floors and echoing throughout the space.

“Why did you take me?” Peter asks.

“One word,” The voice says close to his left, causing Peter to flinch. “Revenge.”

Revenge? Peter thinks. Revenge against who? Spider-Man?

The figure’s shoes click against the floor again as they slowly approach Peter, until they’re standing in front of him, blocking the light from him. Peter looks up into the face of his captor, only to see a somewhat familiar face. The man is short, unruly brown hair with glasses perched on his nose. Peter’s seen this man somewhere before… but he just can’t remember who he is.

“I’ve been keeping my eye on you for awhile now, Peter. You’re smart—you won your Decathlon team a slot into the finals. I was very impressed at you hitting that buzzer and answering correctly every time. You’re the top of all your classes, with one of the highest GPAs in your entire school as a sophomore. I can see why Stark hired you to be his personal intern.” The man tells him, flashing a pearly white smile. “But let me tell you one thing about Tony Stark. When he finds interest in something, he’ll play with it for a while… boast and brag about it, until he gets bored with it and throws it away.”

So this guy’s clearly out to get Tony. Tony’s made a lot of enemies in the past, so there’s no telling what this guy’s problem is. Judging by the guy’s expensive looking suit and tie apparel, this guy seems like he means business. And not the good kind.

“For years, I’ve spent my life trying to get back what I lost. My career, my reputation, but it’s too late. Stark ruined me! He took everything from me!” The man suddenly yells, causing Peter to violently flinch as his voice booms off the walls. The man turns away from Peter and walks back to the camera, grabbing it and something off of a nearby table before walking back to him. He stops next to Peter and holds the camera out with both of them in frame, probably live recording. “You took everything from me Stark… so now I’m going to take everything from you.”

The sudden press of cold metal against the side of Peter’s head has him freezing, the air caught in his throat. He’s been in this position far too many times by now to know it’s a gun—but it’s somehow more scary this time around.

“I’m giving you until midnight, Stark. I want you to meet me at the Cold Storage Facility in Albany—just you, none of your fancy suits, no Avengers and no police. If you fail to meet my demands, the kid gets it.” The man says into the camera before abruptly turning it off. He turns to Peter, pressing the gun further against his temple. “And if you try anything funny, I’ll shoot you.”

When the gun drops from his head, Peter lets out a shaky breath, keeping his eyes on the man as he goes back to the table across the room, tossing the camera on it.

“What do you want from Mr. Stark?” Peter asks.

“I just want to have a little chat with him face-to-face,” The man answers with a grin as he grabs something off the table and walks back to him. “I’ll have him right where I want him—alone, weaponless, desperate, and completely vulnerable.”

It’s a trap. Peter knows Tony would do anything for him but he’s not stupid like this guy think he is. The team will be waiting nearby for the right time to strike and take this nut-job down.

The man bends down next to Peter and puts something underneath the chair he’s tied to, flipping something with a faint beep.

A bomb.

There’s an actual bomb underneath him that could go off at any second.

The man stands up and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small roll of duct tape. “Just so you don’t ruin all the fun.” He says with a grin before he rips a piece off and shoves it on Peter’s mouth despite his weak protests. “You have approximately three hours until this bomb detonates, unless I come back and turn it off. So you better hope the next person who comes in here is me, or else it’s curtains for you.”

The man bends down and grabs a thin string, which is probably attached to the device, and walks across the space to an open door and ties it to the knob. Without another word, he slips outside and closes the door behind himself.

The warehouse is engulfed in a tense silence, the only sound being from the ticking bomb underneath Peter, taunting him with the very real and terrifying threat of going off at any second from just the slightest tug of that string of someone were to fully open the door.

…

Peter doesn’t know how long he sits there, listening to the sound of the ticking, trying to carefully wiggle his way out of the ropes. He can feel them going a little slack around him until he hears a noise outside. Peter freezes, tear-filled eyes widening as he stares at the door the sting is attached to. There’s another noise, sounding almost like someone walking on gravel.

“...has to be here. Sam, Clint, on my mark…” A familiar voice says from outside the door.

It’s Steve.

Before Peter has a chance to feel any kind of relief, fear shoots through him when he sees the door handle begin to twist.

“MMMH! MMMH!” Peter tries to yell around the tape.

When the door suddenly swings open, Peter’s stomach drops when he hears the string snap off and the bomb lets out a shrill chorus of beeps. He sees Clint run inside with Steve right behind him and before Peter registers what’s happening, Clint grabs him and throws them away, just as Steve drops his shield on top of the bomb, taking the brunt of the explosion.

Peter’s ears are ringing horribly as he lies on the ground, distantly aware of the hands on him, untying him from the chair. He opens his eyes as someone helps him sit up and carefully take the tape off his mouth, only to see Steve kneeling in front of him.

“S-Steve? T-Tony—he...he’s going to—”

“I know. We caught the guy that did this to you. Tony’s safe. He’s back at the compound.” Steve tells him in a gentle voice, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Relief crashes into Peter like a tidal wave, flowing through every vein in his body. He closes his eyes as more tears spill out and throws himself at Steve, wrapping his arms around the soldier as a sob escapes from his lips.

Steve wraps his arms around him in return, rubbing a hand up and down Peter’s quivering back. “You’re alright, Peter. You’re safe now… you’re safe.”

…

It’s dark outside when Peter walks down the Quinjet’s ramp with Steve close at his side, stepping on the landing pad at the compound. Peter hasn’t been able to stop shaking since they took off in the jet, making it a little difficult to walk with how wobbly his legs are.

Peter looks up from the ground and his eyes settle on Tony, who’s already jogging over to meet them. Before he knows it, arms are wrapping around him, the familiar and calming scent of motor oil and cologne meeting his nose.

Tony.

A sob escapes Peter’s lips as he clutches the back of Tony’s shirt in his hands, feeling a hand at the back of his head. “T-Tony…” Peter cries.

Tony only hugs him tighter, his chin resting at the top of Peter’s head. “I’m right here, kiddo. You’re safe… I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

[folklore-musings]

Camera Shy Part 10

Summary: AU. Jughead is an aspiring photographer. His final project requires him to shoot nude photos of someone who inspires him. With no one else to ask Jughead asks Betty. Insecure of her body Betty is quick to shoot the idea down, until Jughead reminds her that she owes him.

Find all previous parts on tumblr HERE

Read on AO3 HERE

A/N:  thank you to everyone who's kept up with this story and badgered me into continuing it. It's been rough but this story is my baby, and I'm relieved I was finally able to update. The next two chapters will be much longer, but with school in full force I don't know when I'll be able to update, but I'll try my best. Much love to you all <3 (PS Riverdale season two starts back up in 24 days!)

Betty waits in the patient’s chair, leaning back and letting her knees rest against each other as she holds the dressing gown closed. There’s an old episode of Friends playing on the TV up in the corner that catches her attention, and she watches it to help soothe her nerves. She was finally about to get the pregnancy clarification she needed.

She’s so enraptured in the show that she misses when Jughead enters the room with his Polaroid dangling from his neck. “I thought I told you no pictures?” Betty reminds him upon noticing his arrival.

“Technically you said no videotaping. Photographing and videotaping are two completely different things.” He tells her, moving to her side and bending forward to place a chaste kiss to her forehead. He pushes the loose pieces of her hair behind her ear and rubs his thumb along her jaw lightly. “Are you scared?”

Betty purses her lips and shakes her head. “Not so much scared as anxious. I need to know if this real,” she mumbles, reaching up to grab Jughead’s hand and hold it against her cheek a little while longer. She hadn’t been sick since that fatal morning, but somehow she felt different. Different good or different bad she was unsure, it was just different.

She’d done a complete 180 with her diet. No more Chinese food and pizza multiple times a week. She focused more on salads and organic chicken. Much to her dismay, Pop’s chicken tenders were not organic. Instead of cereal she opted for smoothies for breakfast and tried to avoid Pop Tate’s milkshakes. Although Jughead had promised her a vanilla shake with her name on it after this appointment and Betty couldn’t wait. Consciously eating healthy was hard.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Jughead nods his head towards the door and Betty’s eyes follow his motion, noticing the doctor had joined them.

“Hello there. I’m Dr. Greyson.” The doctor’s young, maybe early thirties and she smiles friendly at the two of them. She reaches out to shake Jughead’s hand and then Betty’s. “Could you please sit up Betty?”

“Of course,” Betty sputters, making sure to hold the patient’s gown close to her body as she adjusts her position, the paper beneath her on the bed crinkling obnoxiously with every slight movement.

The regular check-up ensues. Betty’s reflexes are great, her blood pressure is near perfect and her lungs are healthy. As she sits Betty hears the click of a camera go off and gives Jughead a look that she’s sure could kill. “Ignore him.” Betty tells Dr. Greyson.

Dr. Greyson looks back over to Jughead and smiles. “I think it’s sweet that he’s excited to be here. Most young men refuse to step foot into this room for the first check.” The doctor turns her back to grab a few items from the counter and Jughead cocks his head to the side, a smirk on his face reminding Betty that she’s pretty damn lucky she has him in her life.

The test happens so quickly Betty can barely believe she was so nervous to begin with. A quick sample of her blood was all Dr. Greyson needed in order to determine whether Betty really was pregnant or not. “You should receive a call by tomorrow afternoon notifying you of the results.”

Betty nods her head, wondering why the nurse had instructed her to don the ridiculous patient’s gown if she wasn’t even going to need it. Oh well. “Thank you! I look forward to hearing from you.” Betty watches as the doctor exits, leaving her and Jughead alone once more in the room.

“Turn around Jug, I need to change.”

Jughead shifts the weight on his legs and crosses his arms, looking at Betty with a dumbfounded expression on his face. “Betty, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. I think I can handle watching you change.”

Inwardly groaning, Betty hops off the bench and turns her back to Jughead, letting the gown fall from her shoulders softly. When she hears the familiar click of Jughead’s camera she whips her head around so fast she practically gives herself whiplash. “No.”

Jughead stands there, shaking the most recent photo of her in his hand delicately. “No what?”

Betty sighs and pulls on her clothes quickly as she thinks of what she wants to say to him. Despite everything they’d been through the past two months, Betty was still extremely uncomfortable with her body. The rough angles of her skin and 10 pounds of comfort weight she’d gain since they started dating were beginning to show in all the wrong areas. She pulls her shirt on over her head and grabs her purse, ready to leave. “No more pictures! Don’t you have enough naked photos of me to last a lifetime?”

Jughead smirks and grabs her hand, Betty hesitantly accepting the feeling of his calloused fingers against her palm. When it came to Jughead, she could never stay upset for very long. He presses a kiss to her temple and leads her out the door. “Never Betts. Never.”

When they get home Betty slumps right into her favorite spot on the couch, content to with one of Pop’s milkshakes clutched in her right hand. She’d been too tired to eat in, and Jughead was not opposed to ordering takeout. Together they spent the rest of the afternoon binge watching anything and everything Betty wanted, which mostly consisted of old 90s cartoons. The more Betty was afraid that she really was pregnant, the more she wanted to stay young and carefree.

꙰

“Mama Copper is going to castrate you.” Archie says while purchasing a popcorn for the movie he and Veronica were about to see. It’d been a few weeks since the news of Betty’s possible pregnancy became common knowledge and Archie wouldn’t let Jughead forget it. Veronica jams her elbow into Archie’s side, forcing him to shut up. “What was that for?” He complains, rubbing his ribs tenderly.

Jughead laughs and Veronica’s quick to respond. “If you knocked me up would you want your best friend reminding you that my parents would remove your testicles because you got me pregnant?” Archie winces at the thought and Ronnie continues on, barely noticing his reaction. “No, you wouldn’t. So shut up about it already, can’t you tell he’s freaking out?”

Ronnie stomps ahead of the boys, leaving them standing there next to the concessions, watching her leave with their jaws dropped in unison. “Is she right?” Archie asks, turning to Jughead. “Am I really being that oblivious?”

Jughead grabs his own popcorn from behind the counter and pops a few buttery pieces into his mouth. He nods. “Since when do you know the meaning of oblivious?”

Archie grins and moves to pay for his popcorn, purchasing a cup for a soda. “It was today’s Word of the Day in my calendar.”

Unable to stop himself from laughing, Jughead grabs a cup from his coworker at the register and gets himself a drink as well. “That is fucking fantastic. Best news I’ve heard all day.”

“Yeah OK go ahead and laugh. Ronnie got it for me for Easter.” Archie admits. They begin to follow Veronica towards the theater. “I am really sorry though if I’ve been making things worse for you. I just can’t get over the fact that Betty’s pregnant. And that it’s yours.”

Jughead claps a hand on Archie’s shoulder and directs him to his theater. “It’s OK Arch. Just please refrain from any more mentions of me losing my balls. I’m very attached to them.”

“I will. Now get back to work.”

They bid each other goodbye as Archie headed into the theater, while Jughead continues on towards the Projection Room. There he set down his popcorn and his drink and adjusted the film reel. Reaching for the switch he dimmed the lights in the theater and began to show the previews. He grabs his pop and leans back in his chair, setting his feet up on the desk in front of him. He can’t help but think about what Archie told him about Betty’s mom, Alice Cooper. Alice was a force to be reckoned with, and suddenly Jughead had a serious fear of losing one of his favorite appendages.

While the movie plays Jughead constantly checks his phone, waiting for an incoming update from Betty. It was already three in the afternoon and he couldn’t believe the doctor still hadn’t called with Betty’s test results. He was surprised he was even able to eat; he was so worried about the potential outcome. Then again who was he trying to fool? Jughead never lost his hearty appetite.

The movie’s in full swing when Jughead’s phone lights up on the desk in front of him. Knocking the popcorn over in the process, he lunges for his phone, picking up midway through the first ring. “Betty?” he asks hurriedly into the receiver.

“Hey Jughead, how’s it going?”  Her voice is silky smooth on the other line and Jughead’s silently praying she has the news he’d been waiting to hear about all morning.

How’s it going, he wonders to himself incredulously. I’m going out of my fucking mind is how its going. Somehow he keeps his cool when he answers, although how he’s not sure. “Everything’s going great. Archie and Ronnie are here to see that new Avengers movie. We’re pretty busy for a Sunday afternoon…” He pauses, inhaling a quick breath before continuing. “…Did they call?”

The other end of the line is silent for what feels like an entire eternity, and when Betty responds, it’s not what Jughead expects to hear. “Check your messages,” is all Betty has to say.

Jughead removes the phone from his ear and hastily clicks on the green messaging icon. The only message he has is from Betty, and when he opens it up he’s surprised to find a photo. There on his screen, is a picture of a Polaroid. And within that Polaroid is another Polariod, one with a positive pregnancy test captured with the caption ‘Oh Baby’. The new Polaroid is captioned in Betty’s tidy scrawl labeled ‘Coming Soon December 2017’.

He brings the phone back up to his ear, trying to hide emotion in his voice he speaks next. But before he can get a word in Betty cuts him off, “Did you get the message?”

Jughead leans back in his chair and covers his face in his hand. “We’re going to be parents.”

“It’s official – I really am pregnant.” She’s silent before she speaks once more. “What are you thinking about, Jughead?”

For once Jughead isn’t thinking about anything. He’s not hyperventilating or freaking out like he thought he would. Instead his mind is as free and clear as a cloudless day and they only words he can think to respond with are, “I’m thinking I’ve never loved you more than I do right now. We’ll talk more when I get home.”

They bid each other goodbye, and it’s only when the line clicks dead that Betty’s news really sinks in his stomach like a ton of bricks cemented together. How in the hell was he, Jughead, supposed to raise a baby on a movie theater employee’s income?

[kimjongdaely]

Façade [Chapter 5]

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Warning: Language

Summary: You thought you wanted fame. You thought you wanted this. But a part of you still yearned for that normal life, a normal love: finding someone that you love and will love you back with all his heart. So soon enough, this became too much for you.

Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Epilogue

First day on set and you already know this isn’t really going to work.

If it wasn’t because you signed the damn contract, you would’ve bolted the second you saw Chanyeol’s familiar figure talking to a few staff members in one of the corners. Instead, you put on your calm façade and act as if you never saw him.

“Wow,” Yixing breathes as he takes in the place, his eyes practically sparkling. “This place is so big…and there are so many famous people.”

“Better get used to it.” You tease him with a grin, and he smiles back widely. You’ve already taken a look at the script, and overall it seems fine.

It was a sappy romance film, for all you know. Pretty cliché, but those films always bring in viewers.

But upon reading through your lines and understanding your character, you know why Junmyeon wants you in this film.

Because it’s literally you.

This character is so similar to you, it kind of scares you. You would’ve believed it if Junmyeon told you the script was written according to your life.

“Hey,” You jump upon hearing the voice. Chanyeol greets you awkwardly, but you see how hard he’s trying to make this work. You force a smile and greet him back.

Everything will be strictly professional. You’re an actress, he’s an actor. This is a movie.

Whatever happened with Chanyeol is in the past. You’re over him.

You need to remember that.

“Everyone ready?” Junmyeon calls and immediately all staff and actors get into position. “Ready, set, action!”

You suck in a deep breath and act out the first scene.

“Acting is a lot harder than I thought.” Yixing admits when the director gives everyone a ten minute break.

You giggle at his tired face and pat him gently on the back for encouragement. “You were great.”

“Liar.” He pouts. “I was stiff as a board. Might as well have me act as a tree.”

You laugh harder at this, but he continues to sulk.

“You’ll get better.” You tell him confidently. “No one can act right off the bat.”

He lets out a weak smile, feeling a little better at your reassurance.

The next few shots is with Yixing. It’s an outdoor shot where the two of you go out as ‘friends,’ according to the script.

You kept rereading the script while you were in the van to your shooting destination. You smile as you read over Yixing’s lines. Junmyeon definitely chose the right person to play this character, because the character is as kind and gentle as Yixing while also incredibly fun. Honestly, Yixing doesn’t even need to act. He can just be himself and the film will turn out amazing.

You feel the soft breeze once you step out of the van. Apparently, you arrived at an amusement park. Typical place for this scene. Since the amusement park is one of the sponsors for the film, entry is free and so are the rides. Small price in exchange for advertisement.

After entering, Junmyeon goes through a few directions with the both of you, but mostly it’s freestyle.

The crew steps back to give the two of you space to act, and honestly it feels a little awkward. You’ve done these scenes so many times with so many other actors, but with Yixing you just feel a little weird.

You hear the director yell action, the cameras rolling, but you’re stuck and you don’t know what to do. You haven’t felt like this since you first started your career so many years ago.

You suck in a breath sharply, thinking that you’ll have to start this scene over, but Yixing smiles at you, grabbing your hand and excitedly yelling, “Let’s go on that one first!”

He’s pointing at a rollercoaster, and to be honest you’re slightly terrified of heights.

“Uh, sure.” You croak and he pulls you over. Like hell you’re going to admit you’re scared.

You’re strapped down in the ride and literally you can see your hands shaking. You grab onto the handle with all your might, your knuckles turning white.

You hear Yixing chuckle next to you. “Are you scared?”

“No.” You state firmly, until you hear the beep and the ride starts moving. You gulp. “Yes.”

He chuckles again, louder, before you feel his hand grab on yours and suddenly it doesn’t seem that scary anymore.

You forget that the camera is still rolling. You forget that there’s a crew of people following wherever you go. You forget, because Yixing makes you forget.

Being with him is so fun, so casual, you thought you were really just hanging out with a friend.

He buys you ice-cream, him with vanilla while you with chocolate, and you whine when he swiftly dabs his ice-cream with his finger and lands it on your nose. He laughs at your disbelief, only to have you smear some chocolate onto his cheek.

The chemistry is amazing, you think as you briefly glance over to the crew and Junmyeon who was watching the entire time, seeing his grin and approval. This movie will be a hit, you can feel it.

“Okay, where to next?” Yixing asks with a hum to his voice once you reenter the hot sun. You’ve already ridden a handful of rides, only a few left.

“Ferris wheel.” You state, staring at the large structure a few ways from where you’re standing. “For sure. But let’s go on that when the lights come on?”

“Sure,” he chirps. “Then…let’s go on the remaining rides first.” He leads you over to the closest ride and gets on.

The sky darkens quickly. Blotches of scarlet, violet and caramel orange covers the sky, beautiful, but only lasting for a moment. Night falls and city lights become brighter than ever.

You see crowds of people on the main street, waiting, distance sounds of music filling the air. A parade. You tug at Yixing’s sleeve, and he doesn’t even need to ask to know that you want to stay to watch.

He knits through people, finding you and ultimately the crew a place to stand. Too many people are in front of you, but with the help of crew members, an empty space is easily created.

You stand there with Yixing, watching the parade march by, their lights and music flashing in front of you. You don’t remember the last time you had so much fun like this, so carefree, even if it’s still part of your work.

You stand there for about fifteen minutes, halfway through the parade, before you feel Yixing tug on your hand, feeling his warm breath against your ear as he leans in to ask,  “Wanna ride the ferris wheel now?”

The two of you slip away from the crowd, and it feels like just the two of you even if the crew is still following you closely.

In the night, the light that the ferris wheel emits is definitely the most eye-catching. You and Yixing exchange excited looks before quickly making your way to the last ride of the day.

With everyone at the parade, the long line that existed before is merely a few lingering people now. You get into one of the cabins, the crew making sure to install cameras and mics at every angle. You breathe a sigh of relief after a long day from fun, glad to be in a place that’s quiet and calming and beautiful.

You gaze out the cabin to see the pretty lights of the amusement park, the parade still marching underneath you.

And then you suddenly remember that the last time you went on a ferris wheel was with Chanyeol.

“Are you okay?” Yixing asks you softly, noticing your sudden change of attitude. You immediately smile convincingly, shaking your head to reassure him that you’re fine.

“Do you still miss him?” His eyes are softer, his voice a whisper.

It takes you a while to realize that he’s still in character, and is improvising the script.

You purse your lips tightly. “I miss him.”

“He left you.” Yixing’s voice almost breaks. His eyes doesn’t meet yours.

It doesn’t feel like acting right now.

“But I still love him.” You say, reminding yourself of the script and the storyline and who you’re supposed to be right now.

You’re not you right now.

You’re an actress.

“You should give him up.” Yixing suddenly looks at you with wide eyes. “He doesn’t love you anymore. Stop letting him destroy you like this.” He sucks in a deep breath before avoiding his eyes again. When he speaks again, you could barely hear him. “…Aren’t you happier with…me?”

Wait.

This isn’t where his character confesses.

This is too early.

You stare at him for a while, wondering what you should do. Stick with the storyline? Tell Junmyeon to cut this part out later?

It’s not like you can completely change the plot now, can you?

“I am.” You finally manage, your throat dry. “But you’re not him.”

And that’s the closest to the truth you can muster. Is this what you wanted to say, or what your character wanted to say?

Yixing looked so heartbroken you almost burst into tears just looking at him. He nods once, taking a while to whisper, “I know.” For the rest of the ride, the two of you are silent.

Once you get back on ground, the crew cheers and congratulates the both of you with a bear hug.

“The two of you are better than I thought.” Junmyeon praises with a wide grin. “Especially you, Yixing. You’re very promising. How about you become a permanent actor?”

He flushes at the compliment, subtly denying the request by saying he’ll think about it. You don’t dare look at him after that, but you still find yourself glancing at him.

Was that really acting? Or…

He catches your gaze. “Good job today. You were amazing. I almost didn’t know you were acting.”

You force out a tight smile. “You too.”

“Really?” He grins. “You think so? I really tried super hard. You know, the lines in the cabin? I completely made up those lines because I couldn’t remember the script. I didn’t want to ask for the script because I was scared it would ruin the whole thing. You think I was okay?”

You nod. “Of course. Super convincing. Almost got me too. I’m pretty sure the viewers will love you.”

He beams happily at this, sprinting to catch up with the crew that’s already starting to leave.

You don’t know why you’re hurting. Is it because your words were true? That you still love Chanyeol? Or is it because everything Yixing said was just acting?

You can’t decide.

“Hey, good job.”

You jump at the voice, not expecting Chanyeol to talk to you first in the least. You smile and thank him, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he plops down next to you in one of those plastic waiting chairs while the staff runs around to get things in order.

“You and that Yixing guy…” He starts softly. “You guys are pretty close.”

“We’re good friends.” You tell him, wondering what kind of expression is on his face right now, but you keep your eyes looking ahead. “He helped me find a job at the café.”

Chanyeol stays quiet. You realize he’s been a lot quieter after you left; he’s usually laughing and doing something crazy.

“How have you been?” You ask, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to start a conversation with him. You try to keep everything lighthearted, but one glance at his face makes your heart drop.

“Honestly?” He tries to force out a smile, but his eyes are so dark it’s as if he can’t even see you. “Not too great. I’ve been missing you.”

Your heart pounds. What does that mean? Does it mean he loves you? Or is it only as a friend? A partner?

Your mind races, so you end up not saying anything for several moments. Then you finally choke out, “It’s too late for that.”

He let’s out a soft, broken laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

Silence for a moment longer, then he speaks so softly you could barely hear him. “On that ferris wheel…it should’ve been me.”

He stands up to leave.

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A/N: What do you guys think? Idk, I’m having a little trouble writing this story...it doesn’t flow as well as Taken. 😕 Some encouragement would be great~ Thanks for reading again guys 💛

©kimjongdaely

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[dontfindyourcenter]

Chapter 23:  You’re Lanakillin’ Me

Rules: https://dontfindyourcenter.tumblr.com/post/177027661290/rules

Previous chapter: https://dontfindyourcenter.tumblr.com/post/178481441120/chapter-22-i-dont-know-about-you-but-heres

After getting a tiny bit lost looking for it, I eventually found that last section of Vast Poni Canyon!  None of the healing items I was hoping for were there, but I did find a rare candy, the T.M for Flamethrower, and an old man called Terry who was practicing karate by himself in the dark. Still a less embarrassing hobby than making up arbitrary rules to make pokemon games harder, if we’re honest.

Then I remember a whole other place I haven’t explored for healing items yet - the Haina Desert!  I skipped over this place last time I was on Ula’ula island because I didn’t think it was worth going into a place where it was constantly a sandstorm if I couldn’t heal my pokemon afterwards, but now I don’t have to worry about that because I’ve got a couple of max repels going spare!  Let’s see what I can be having here!

Nothing.  No healing items here either other than a Max Elixir.  Bit of an anti-climax, but oh well - at least I got the psychic-type z-crystal, which none of my pokemon can use because they don’t know any psychic-type moves.  Yay!

With that done, I pop to the foot of Mount Lanikila, where Gladion is waiting for me.  “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.  He’s holding his hand in front of his head again, but it looks a bit less melodramatic this time; maybe it’s the camera angle or the fact that he isn’t vibrating slightly, but this time it just looks like he’s having a mild headache.  That’s character development, that is.

Anyway, he tells me that he wanted to thank me for helping out his family in that Ultra Space adventure.  No prob, Bob!  Then he says “the only thing I can offer you in thanks is a great battle.”  You’re being a bit harsh on yourself there, Gladion - I’ll bet you could arrange a really lovely fruit basket if you wanted to.  But no, he wants to show me his full power “with the z-ring that old man gave him.”  I know that he probably means Nanu when he says “that old man,” but my headcanon is that he’s just talking about a random old man that I’ve never met before.  Gladion clearly has a life outside of the game I’m playing, after all.

Loki goes first against Gladion’s crobat.  Instead of actually attacking the crobat, though, Loki’s just there to paralyze it with Thunder Wave and then set a couple of layers of Spikes, so that all Gladion’s other pokemon will get hurt now when they come into battle.  Loki’s a devious little pisser like that.  When Loki has had enough of being hit by the crobat’s Acrobatics attacks, I switch out Digit Al to finish it off with a Volt Switch attack.

Next into battle is Gladion’s lucario, who’ll be fighting Donna.  Surprisingly, the lucario turns out to have a z-move - Corkscrew Crash, which he uses here without much effect.  I would have expected one of the pokemon Gladion’s had for longer to have been given a z-move, but props to Gladion for being original, I guess.  Anyway, a couple of Flame Charges later, the lucario is out for the count.

Gladion sends out his newly-evolved silvally next, but I keep Donna in the fight.  Why not?  It seems a waste to witch her out when her speed’s just been doubled, and she has a couple of moves which are good against fire-types, which I’m pretty sure this silvally is.

Ah.  It turns out Donna still isn’t faster than this guy, and it uses Crunch, which brings Donna down to less than a quarter of her health.  I guess that answers that “why not” question.  I switch Donna out for Mr Nancy, who’s able to finish the silvally off, but not before taking a lot of damage as well.

Gladion’s last pokemon, weavile, then faces off against Digit Al.  Though the weavile didn’t stand a chance of surviving Al’s Flash Cannon attack, it’s able to do an obscene amount of damage first by getting a critical hit with Night Slash.  That’s a pretty good description of the whole battle, actually - Gladion didn’t stand a chance, but he did an obscene amount of damage anyway.  I bloody hope the plot heals my pokemon before I face the elite four.

Then Gladion flashes me a creepily genuine-looking smile and hands me a Max Elixir which Lillie apparently wanted me to have.  Since Lillie once gave me a bag to keep contact lenses in even though my character seems to have perfect vision, I can absolutely believe that she would believe a Max Elixir was a nice gift to give someone.   Then he says “I know we aren’t friends.  But we aren’t enemies anymore either.”  You just described strangers, Gladion.  That’s no fun.  Haven’t you ever heard the term frenemies?

It’s at this point that I never beat that dancer back on the Poni Wilds who would only fight me when I beat everyone else there.  What the heck, I decide; she might give me an item that Loki can hold that’s more useful than the Occa Berry she’s been uselessly gripping for the last three chapters.  And sure enough, the dancer tells me before fighting that her pokemon use Focus Sashes, which probably means that’s what she’ll give me when I beat her.  Nice!

Oh boy, I was wrong.  That wasn’t nice at all.

It turns out that the trainer’s four pokemon are the four different forms of oricorio.  The fight starts off great, with Digit Al beating both the fire/flying type one and the electric/flying type one.  Unfortunately, for the third oricorio, I sent out Hedwig.  I swear there was a reason that I sent my starter pokemon out against a strong bird pokemon, even though he’s vulnerable to flying-type moves and the oricorio was guaranteed to survive my first attack.  I guess I was just pretty sure Hedwig would survive long enough to finish off the psychic/flying oricorio and level up.

No points for guessing that I was wrong, but man, I was really wrong.  See, it turns out the light blue oricorio isn’t psychic type after all; it’s ghost type, and it’s just knocked Hedwig out with a tremendously powerful Revelation Dance attack.  Oopsie doodle.  That means I have to use one of my four max revives.

Anyway, I did manage to beat the dancer and get that Focus Sash in the end.  Will the item end up being useful enough to justify using up one of my lifelines this late in the game?  Time will tell.

I go back to Mount Lanakila now, and considering that it’s this game’s victory road (according to google, Lanakila is Hawaiian for victory), there sure aren’t any trainers about.  I run through and am able to pick up a full restore, a max revive (yes!  Back up to four!) and the ice type z-crystal without seeing anyone at all.  What’s the deal with that?  I can remember the victory road in pokemon Ultra Sun being much longer and full of trainers, just like it is in most other pokemon games.  Maybe they just ran out of time when they were making the vanilla Sun and Moon version.  The hilarious part is the rotomdex saying “Mount Lanakila is famous for being the most impregnable of all of Alola’s mountains.”  I was able to pregn it in about ten minutes, mate.

I take the lift to the very top of the mountain.  I walk past the pokemon center, because that’s the whole point of my challenge, you know?  I don’t even totally know why I even bothered typing that.  If you were expecting me to use the pokemon center at this point then you haven’t been paying attention to my entire journey.

A few steps later, I’m stopped by none other than Hau!  Mate, it’s been ages!  Where’s he been all this time?  It turns out that after the business on Aether Paradise, Hau cleared the rest of his trials and then “went back home to train with Ilima a bit.”  You went back home… to train?  Did you think that through, young man?  Did you really weigh up all your options and think “gosh, the best place I could possibly go to train is the island where the very strongest pokemon around are on level twelve”?

In any case, it turns out Hau came to Mount Lanikala to try out the pokemon league, heard from Gladion that I was on my way up here and dashed his way on up to meet me.  He tells me that it’s the fastest he’s ever moved in his life.  He probably shouldn’t brag too much about that - if Gladion was still at the bottom of the mountain when Hau got there, I had time to fly all the way to Poni Island and all the way back before he caught up with me.

Anyway, Hau challenges me to a battle to work out who should go up against the pokemon league first.  And my god, this is a surprise - he doesn’t heal my pokemon to full health first!  Maybe he did learn something from training with Ilima after all.

As always, Hau leads with his raichu.  Having completely forgotten that Hau would be here, the first pokemon in my party is currently Wash, but that’s ok - his thunderbolt attack misses entirely when I switch Wash out for Loki.  And what did I expect from Hau?  Hell, I’ve faced off against Hau often enough to know how little to expect of him; I decide I might as well lay down a layer of spikes on Loki’s first turn, since there’s no way this raichu is gonna do any significant da -

What the heck? The raichu’s Thunderbolt just did 96 points of damage!  That’s a LOT of damage!  What’s with the power boost, Hau?  Should I have been training with Ilima this whole time?

I switch over to Digit Al to save Loki from death, but it soon becomes clear that even Al’s not safe from the raichu - after Al does a fairly low amount of damage with Tri Attack, the raichu uses Focus Punch, and while the attack misses, it’s clear that it would have done a heck of a lot of damage if it had hit and might even have knocked Al out.  I’m forced to switch over to Hedwig to finally beat the raichu with a Spirit Shackle attack.  I mean, it’s good that I eventually managed it and all, but I had to switch out more than half my team to do it.  That seems like too much.

Next out on Hau’s side is his flareon, which means it’s Mr. Nancy’s time to shine.  But once again, Hau demonstrates an insane leap in power since I last saw him when the flareon uses Flare Blitz, which does so much damage that Nancy (who started the battle with about three-quarters of his health) is left with only about a third of his HP left.  That’s insane, especially since Mr Nancy’s ability is that fire-type attacks do half as much damage to him.  At least Mr Nancy’s able to do an awful lot of damage with his Scald attack, but that won’t be a whole lot of comfort if he gets killed on his next turn.

I consider switching to someone else in my party, but no; the only member of my team with more than half their health left is Wash, and while Wash has a lot of strengths, he also has a lower defense than any other member of my party.  Switching to him, or any of my other pokemon, would be signing their death warrant.  I’m gonna have to use a Max Potion instead.

It pays off; while the flareon’s next Flare Blitz attack does more damage than I’d like once again, Mr Nancy has just enough health left that he should survive his next turn.  And that’s exactly what he does.  He doesn’t get the chance to finish the flareon off, though - the knockback from his own attack knocks the flareon clean out.  Good riddance!

Hau’s penultimate pokemon is a komala, which faces off against Wash.  This, finally, is a much more straightforward battle.  First, after getting hit by komala’s Sucker Punch, Wash uses Beak Blast.  Then, correctly guessing that the komala would use Sucker Punch again, Wash uses Roost and ends up back to near-full health.  Finally, Wash finishes the komala off with a Drill Peck.

And finally, Hau sends out his primarina, and so I let Digit Al out once again.  Al uses Charge Beam, doing a lot of damage and raising his special attack.  That should be enough for Al to beat the Primarina on his next turn.

Unfortunately, Al doesn’t get a next turn.  The primarina uses Hydro Vortex, the water-type z-move, and knocks Al out in one hit.

Damn!  I let out Hedwig and use a Max Revive on Al.  I’m really, really lucky here, as it turns out - the primarina uses Moonblast and Hedwig survives, but with only 1 HP remaining.  Hedwig is able to beat the primarina with Leaf Blade on his next turn, but that battle’s still caused a serious dent in my healing item lifelines.

Hau is a good sport about it to the last, telling me to go ahead and beat the Elite Four so that next time, he can come beat Champion Tori.  Christ - if only the modern Labour Party had half that much determination.

Ooooh, and then he gives me 3 Max Revives.  I always liked that boy.  And he’s even healed my team up before the Elite Four!  What a lad!

I jump back into Mount Lanikala to very quickly give some training to the members of my party who are closest to leveling up, then use the handful of Rare Candies in my bag on everyone else.  And you know what?  That’s enough for me.  No more training - I’m not going to risk heading into the Elite Four with anything less than perfect health.

I step into the Pokemon League headquarters.

End of Chapter 23.

[wlg-cdg-blog]

Week One / January 8 - January 14

Sunday 8 January 2017 4:37pm - Auckland, New Zealand Today, I set off on my journey. Mum, Dad, Chadz, Nana, Grandad and Amanda came to see me go. We said goodbye at the airport, and I know that if I’d turned around to wave them goodbye properly, I would be crying for days. I was still crying when I sat on the plane. The lady next to me made sure I was okay, giving me hugs and sharing her own experiences of he exchange. She’d been back in New Zealand for six years and shared lots of stories about her love life and job. She’s a chef, and prior to returning to New Zealand, had been overseas for 25 years, learning how to cook. She helped a lot. Currently sitting just outside duty free in Auckland International Airport, waiting for my gate to appear on screen. Too nervous to vlog at this moment - maybe I’ll start once I get to France, on the prep course. 6:53pm - Emirates Plane AKL - BNE Meal has just been served. For dinner, I have a mini fruit salad, dried fruit, fruit bread, water, salmon (both hot and cold), with a mini salad (lettuce, a cherry tomato, some other vegetable I think) and hot carrots, courgette and mashed potato and a little chocolate too!! I’m going to eat while watching ‘The Light Between Oceans’ - I now don’t have to pay $10-$16 for it! Going to eat, drink and then sleep - my priorities for the night! 7:04pm - Emirates Plane AKL - BNE The other vegetable in the mini salad is cold cubed potato. 4:23pm - Emirates Plane AKL - BNE, AU Time Zone. Cold cubed potato is not nice. Also, gluten-free bread is always dry. That’s okay! I added the dried fruit and have orange juice now too! The highest abomination is that the FRUIT SALAD HAS GRAPES WITH SEEDS IN IT!! SEEDS!!! 7:05pm - Brisbane International Airport, Gate 75 Arrived at about 6:45, took about twenty minutes to leave the plane. I went up to Gate 75 to transfer, and found it completely deserted! Needless to say, I started crying because !! I’m in a new country, there’s no passengers or staff around, and I don’t know if I’m supposed to be there or not. At this point, a wonderful young family, who were waiting for their daughter, came up and asked what was wrong. After explaining the above predicament, they assured me that everything was fine! Although, they did say then say that they were on the same flight and didn’t know where to go. At least we had each other! I entertained their two year old and chatted with the mum while the dad went to find answers. Unknown time, somewhere over Northern Australia I slept for three hours, had dinner (chicken breast, mini salad, bread roll, chocolate brownie) which was great! Chicken breast came with mashed potato and tomato paste, both of which I mixed together and put on the roll as gluten-free rolls are BLAND, and mint mushy peas. Chicken itself was lovely! Salad came with a slice of chicken, chopped tomatoes and cucumber and spinach - yum! But the BROWNIE was so good - so rich and chocolatey! I had two glasses of apple juice and one cup of water too. Now my eyes are straining, so I’ll head to sleep. There’s a super nice flight attendant called Charlotte who calls me Miss Maisie. She’s from England. Also, HELP! My nose is running and I only have two hours left to last 11 hours! Monday 9 January 2017 1:55am - Emirates Flight BNE - DXB, above Colombo, Sri Lanka According to the screen, we have 4 hours and 20 minutes left to Dubai. I’ve used all my tissues so have resorted to using the ones in the bathroom - which is both a negative and a positive as I’ve run out of tissues but at least it lowers my chances of deep vein thrombosis! I just popped up to the galley to ask for water or juice , it seems like I slept with my mouth open - it’s all dry and funny! I may go brush my teeth on my next trip for tissues. My in-flight entertainment unfortunately has not been working the entire flight - it used to only play Finding Dory for anything I selected, with no audio, and once that finished, it just went black and I can’t play other movies, tv shows, music or games! It’s alright though. Instead of looking at the flight cameras, which were also affected by the Finding Dory situation, or turning off the screen (ditto), I’ve been doing homework that’s I’ve set myself (Year 12 French textbooks), been sleeping, or been playing games on my phone. Fingers crossed that it works on the next flight! I’d like to watch the last half hour of The Light Between Oceans and then the movies below: Imperium: Harry Potter pretends to be Muggle white supremacist (alt-right?) to get information for the police. The man next to me was watching it and I saw a clip on Graham Norton, so I know it looks interesting! Finding Dory: Ellen Degeneres finds herself. Good reviews from my brother and sister. Let’s hope it doesn’t break my entertainment system again! I JUST LOOKED UP AND THE AISLES HAVE TINY LIGHTS THAT LOOK LIKE STARS. I love space. So much. I’m sitting next to the Big Dipper! Obviously I’ve never seen it before, having lived in the Southern Hemisphere all my life, so that’s amazing! Probably not as cool as the real thing, but I’m still in awe. I’ve also calculated on my next flight (DXB-CDG), I’m sitting really close to the front, so I can get off quicker! TV Screen up fronts announced there’s four hours now until we land. I might play some Broken Age - Mum, tell Alby that for his birthday I’ll transfer $20NZD into his account, but only if he uses it to buy an iTunes card and get the game. He loves it, after all. I forgot to mention! There’s another exchange student from the same company on this flight, she’s going to France too! Except she’s going home. I just realised my Flight Information isn’t working either. It still says 7628 miles until destination. 3:46am - Emirates Flight BNE - DXB, across from Delhi I BROKE A NAIL! I was trying to pop my wallet back into the seat pocket and my nail caught on the tray table and snapped! Quite a shame, considering I just got them done two days ago. Anyway, I wanted to write down how many people are watching various films (that I know of and can see) 1x The Magnificent Seven 1x Florence Foster Jenkins 1x Iron Man 3 1x The Avengers 1x The Avengers: Age of Ultron 2x Now You See Me 2 (they’re sitting right next to each other) 8x Bridget Jones’ Baby (at least). Breakfast is here soon. The lighting for morning is so much better for my eyes than the lighting for the night, but I still have a bit of a headache. Will tell you what I get for breakfast when it comes. 3:21am - Emirates Flight BNE - DXB, somewhere over India 1.5 hours left to go! Breakfast is: Bread roll (1) Jam and margarine (1 each) Fruit salad (pineapple, grape, melons) Omelette (1) Baked Beans (1 serving, multiple beans) Yogurt (1) Roast vegetables (courgette, potato, pumpkin) 4:04am - Emirates Flight BNE - DXB Coming into Dubai now. Had a splitting headache so tied scarf tightly around my head and eye. Eye socket feels swollen. Got paracetamol from flight attendant, as mine was in the overhead locker. Started crying because I know Mum always carries parasol on her, so I could’ve asked. Half an hour away from destination, says the screen.  11,791km away from Brisbane. -19 degrees outside. Unknown Time - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Lunch is: Water Coleslaw, a slice of tomato, ham, salmon Fruit salad ( pineapple, melons, a grape) Gluten Free muffin Strawberry reserves Milk Will be grabbing lemonade asap! 10:21pm in Paris. Emirates Flight DXB - CDG I just put on Tarzan after the man next to me caught me watching his screen - he’s watching The Shallows. I got confused with time. The previously described lunch was actually SECOND BREAKFAST. I truly feel like a hobbit now. Actual lunch was: Mini salad (chilli chicken, cucumber, lettuce, lemon, tomato) Fish and quinoa, broccoli and tomato Bread and margarine Chocolate and a little chocolate cake, which had yummy vanilla frosting. I just got spooked because a man sitting behind me stretched out his foot and I thought it was an animal. Anyway, we’re currently flying over Budapest! This is cool, I’m officially in (or over) a part of the world I haven’t been to yet. An hour and forty minutes left of the flight - just enough for a nap. 10:02am local time - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Update! Flying over Germany - caught sight of Munich on the monitor. Only one hour left! 11:37am - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG The home stretch! I just saw on the map both Lille and Paris - so close now!! 11:41am - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG 27 minutes left!! We are coming up to flying over Ardennes. I’ve also realised my camera won’t turn on, which means iPhone vlogging but that’s okay!! It’s very foggy in Paris apparently - only 700m of vision and you can’t see the sky, but it is clearing up! At least, that’s what the pilot told us. 11:47am - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Passed Luxembourg and had the PA for landing. 11:51am - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG it’s quite unfortunate that the weather is allegedly so dull in Paris, the skies above are beautiful and bright. 11:53am - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Passed Reims! Honestly my sense of geography is so bad, I don’t know what that really means, but we look pretty close on the map. Only 16 minutes left until arrival now! My screen says 61 miles until destination, but that means nothing. I’ll have to look at the main screen. Apparently 90km!! Not long now!!! You can tell I’m getting excited by the amount of exclamation marks I’m using!!! 11:75am - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG 9,153ft. Outside temperature is -4 degrees Celsius. I can see Dijon on the main map and am eagerly awaiting seeing buildings below us on the cameras. 12:00pm - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG We are 61km away, and still above the clouds :( 12:04pm - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG GOING THROUGH CLOUDS 12:07pm - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Still going through clouds. Watching three different screens to see different angles of plane. Looking at the screen of the main next to me, we’re getting close! On my screen, I can see dark through the clouds but nothing definitive yet. The outside temperature is 2 degrees celsius, I’m expecting it to stay around this temperature due to the winds and general winter coldness. 12:10pm - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG The cameras were blocked by cloud for a bit and then we came through that… to see more cloud. At this point, Paris may as well just be Cloudland. 12:12pm - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Definitely in fog now, the tail camera is getting wet I SEE THE RUNWAY 12:13pm - Emirates Flight DXB - CDG Landed. It is 5 degrees outside. It is surreal just being on the runway. 2:44pm - the TGV to Lille I had to run to get the train! My representative met me after I collected my baggage. We went to Paul, a patisserie (I’m making the assumption it’s like Brumby’s, as I saw two of them in Dubai Airport as well). I got a ‘le Parisienne’ - that is, a ham sandwich. She also bought me a chocolate tart for the trip, as well as water. And now I’m zipping through the French countryside, trying to catch my bearings. I’ll be in Lille at 15h37 according to my ticket. Tuesday 10 January 2017 17h38 So sorry for not writing! We had a bunch of activities and dinner, after which, I was too tired to write. We had tartan at L’Arriere-Pays followed by crêpes for dessert. Before that, we quite literally got lost in the streets of Lille, and had to ask for help. We stopped at the supermarket and H&M, the latter of which had Wi-Fi. We also stopped at Notting Hill Coffee for… coffee, where we people-watched. This morning, breakfast was a slice of apricot jam toast, fruit and juice. We had classes today, going over the rooms of the house, school, holidays and body parts. We also had ‘galette du rois’ for l’Epiphanie. We broke for lunch - ciabatta with ham and cheese, pain au chocolat, water - and managed to get lost again by retracing our steps from the night before. We stopped by H&M so I could grab tights, and I stopped by the supermarket again to buy two packets of lollies for Alby’s birthday, just like he asked. He also asked for a souvenir from France, so i might pick one up tomorrow when we do our day trip to Paris. Iris at this moment is getting the same, unless she messages me asking for something else. I did see a cute shop I might go to and see if there’s anything. I’m going to head off for dinner and then I think we’re doing laser tag. Talk tomorrow about Paris and laser tag! Wednesday 11 January 2017 9h04 - the TGV from Lille to Paris We haven’t left Lille yet, maid aujourd’hui, nous voyageons à Paris! I think that the plan is to go to Sacre Coeur, then the Louvre, the down the Champs-Elysées to l’Arc de Triomphe and then La Tour Eiffel. if we have time, we’ll go to Notre Dame. When we get back, there’s going to be a trip to the shopping mall if we’re not too tired. A man has sat next to me, and I don’t know if he knows that I speak French or not. Going to put this away and do some reading Much love, will talk on the way back. Fingers crossed that I’ll vlog from Paris! Saturday 14 January 2017 10h15 - Perpignan I have so much to write about! In keywords: Laser tag was exhausting, but tremendously fun Paris was beautiful, I vlogged, it looked like pictures La Piscine (the museum) was gorgeous The train was long, I slept Perpignan is also gorgeous. Ma famille d’accueil sont très sympas. In detail: Laser tag! After dinner at La Chicorée, we went to laser tag, where we had two twenty minute games and we found out just how competitive everyone is. In the second game, we played teams, and the blue team (not mine) figured out how to attack us from above. Paris was amazing! We visited Sacre Coeur first, where I was swindled out of five euros, but then I found five euros on the side of the street so all was restored in the world. We then went to the Louvre, and ate lunch there. Unfortunately, we didn’t go inside, but the pyramid itself is gorgeous (I use that word a lot, I’ve realised in this entry.) It was just surreal. We next wandered along to Notre Dame, where all I could think of was Philippe Petit, the tightrope walker (The Walk is one of my favourite films, and Joseph Gordon-Levitt one of my favourite actors.) The inside of the building is BEAUTIFUL, After that, we went to the Eiffel tower, which was very exciting, and I bought two Eiffel tower souvenirs for Iris and Alby. After that, we went to the Arc de Triomphe. where alas, we couldn’t go up. That was because as under-18, we were free, but we also needed an adult with us. We then wandered the Champs-Elysées, where I bought a new knit jacket from Zara. On Thursday, we went to La Piscine, which is a museum in Roubaix. The story behind the name (which translates to ‘swimming pool’ in English) that the main building itself used to be a swimming pool. You have to go through an old changing cubicle (or at least, we did) to get to the museum. The main hall’s architecture is beautifully structured, with high ceilings and coloured glass in the shape of the sun. There’s many sculptures spanning the length of the old pool, and even more in other rooms. There’s even more paintings in all the rooms, and even one on the ceiling!! And yesterday, I caught the TGV from Lille Europe to Paris Nord, from Paris Gare Lyon to Perpignan - all in all, it took six hours, which was okay because I slept most of the time. I can’t say much, it was nice and warm on the train. I was picked up at the station by Marc, Rose, Marion, Myriam, and Myriam’s student, Clara. We went to school and I got my timetable and textbooks. I’m in Premiere-L, or Premiere focusing in literature (English literature or litterature anglaise is one of my subjects). I thought I was going to be in Seconde, which meant struggling through maths again! We had pizza for dinner. Today, I’ve been sitting at the dinner table while Marion does homework, I work on both the blog and the vlog, Rose makes lunch, and Maxime plays rugby. I’m about to find music for the vlog, but I think that tonight (or this afternoon), we’ll head out to get school supplies and anything else I need, like my bus card, shampoo and conditioner, etc. There may be another update tonight, otherwise I’ll chat next week. 

[jbankai89]

Kittens and Kings [2/5]

Chapter Two - Minou

The locker room was free of JJ's presence that evening, and Yuri hated that it bothered him.

He yanked his locker open, and withdrew his bag. He changed into a sturdier pair of jeans to fight against the cold, tucked his damp braided hair under a hat, and before pulling on his gloves, he withdrew his engagement ring and slipped it on. His stomach knotted with guilt at the sight of it. Even for Otabek, who was probably more than comfortable with all his sponsors, the thing must have cost a fortune. White gold with an emerald in the place of the usual diamond, it was beautiful.

Thank God that he had a long walk home to arrange his face into something neutral.

Yuri tugged on his gloves to hide the physical representation of his guilt—gorgeous leather gloves that fit him like they were made for him. Another gift from Otabek for his birthday last year.

Yuri tried to ignore the way his eyes began to burn as he shouldered his bag and walked out of the rink.

Why had he let it get this complicated?

Why hadn't he ended it sooner?

Why did he let himself say yes out of burning guilt, instead of being honest?

Already, all the gossip magazines were buzzing about his engagement to Otabek—and overshadowing JJ's shocking and sudden split with Isabella.

Yuri didn't care. JJ's life was his own, and the fact that he'd broken up with his fiancée meant nothing. It certainly didn't mean that he felt anything for Yuri other than lust.

Yuri dropped his gaze and glared at the ground.

He didn't know what to do. It felt too late to back out. At the same time, he knew that he needed to. This wasn't fair to Otabek. He was such a good man; he didn't deserve this—any of this.

Yuri's plans to change into his pyjamas and crash with ice cream and Cloverfield were dashed the second he got home, when he was overwhelmed with five people shouting “SURPRISE!” at him, and tossing glittering confetti all over him.

He sputtered, and brushed the little bits of sparkling silver plastic from his shoulders. It was only then that he was able to take in what he was seeing—Yuuri, Viktor, Phichit, Christophe, and JJ all grinning at him, while Otabek sauntered up to him with a warm smile of adoration. He slipped an arm around Yuri's waist, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Surprised?” he asked gently, and Yuri snorted.

“That's a word for it,” he replied, “what's going on?”

“What does it look like?” JJ asked as he threw more confetti at Yuri, making him sputter as he tried to bat it away. “It's your engagement party!”

“It would have been nice to have a little warning,” Yuri remarked as he gave Otabek a sidelong glance.

“Don't be such a spoilsport,” Otabek replied, and leant in to kiss him. Somehow, kissing Otabek in front of JJ felt deeply wrong. “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“No, it's fine, I just...” Yuri trailed off and shook his head. “Never mind. Just let me get changed.”

~*~

Yuri abandoned the bedroom when he felt like he looked decent enough to appear all over Phichit's Instagram account, in tight black jeans, a white The Clash T-shirt, and a black zip-up hoodie layered over top. He'd taken the time to straighten his hair, which gave him enough time to calm his violently beating heart.

Outside the bedroom, Yuri nearly careened directly into the last person he wanted to be alone with right now.

“Sorry,” JJ said, though he didn't sound very sorry.

“I don't even know why Beka invited you,” Yuri muttered, “he hates you.”

JJ raised his eyebrows at Yuri, and Yuri felt his face warm. Clearly, JJ had not missed Yuri's emendation of his usual phrase, he hates you more than I do.

“Can I see your ring?” JJ asked delicately, and Yuri narrowed his eyes at the Canadien suspiciously. He raised his arms in mock surrender. “I just want to see it, I'll behave myself.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Yuri lifted his left hand and lifted his ring finger a little higher to show off the piece of jewellery, and he shivered at the way JJ's palm danced against his, cradling his hand as he looked at the ring.

“It's beautiful,” he said in a low tone of voice that made Yuri shiver. “Otabek has great taste. Are you happy?”

“Don't ask me that,” Yuri said, his voice dropping to a whisper, and he jerked his hand from JJ's grip. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn, and the last thing he wanted was to cry in front of him.

“Yura?” Otabek said suddenly, his head poking into the hall just as Yuri had begun to step away from JJ. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he said quickly as JJ took a step back, his face carefully blank as Otabek stepped up to him. “Just, uh, I think I'm getting a cold or something.”

Or something.

“Hmm...maybe we should postpone? I don't want you exerting yourself if you're sick,” Otabek said, and kissed his temple lightly. JJ watched them for a moment longer before he silently stepped out of the hall to give them a little privacy.

“No, it's fine,” Yuri replied quickly, “everyone's here now, and it's just a little sniffle.”

“All right, if you're sure...” Otabek trailed off as he eyed Yuri uncertainly, and he got on his toes to offer Otabek a kiss.

“I'm sure,” Yuri said as he lied through his teeth; he'd never been less sure of anything in his whole life.

~*~

The dinner, apart from being painfully embarrassing, being the centre of attention like that, went off a lot more smoothly than Yuri had been anticipating. It certainly could have been worse, especially with the knowing smiles that JJ kept shooting him, or the way he casually hooked his ankle around Yuri's while they ate pizza and drank cheap beer, or the soft looks of longing he adopted when he thought no one was looking.

It could have been much, much worse. JJ could have easily 'outed' him to the whole party, but he didn't. He smiled and joked and laughed and was more or less his usual annoying self.

That was, until Phichit broke out the selfie stick and insisted on a group photo, which Yuri was so not in the mood for.

“Just one, please?” Otabek pleaded, and gave his hands a squeeze, “then I'll kick everyone out—”(“hey, that's not nice!” cried Viktor and Yuuri indignantly)“—and get you ice cream and put on a bad horror movie.”

Yuri groaned. He did not want to do this. He was emotionally wrung out, and he just wanted to sleep.

“Oh, come on, Kitten,” JJ cut in with a teasing tone, “one little picture won't kill you.”

Yuri's cheeks burned at the nickname as the others laughed, and JJ gave Yuri a knowing look.

“Fine, fine,” Yuri said quickly before JJ could use that damn nickname on him again. “One picture. We're not doing one hundred shots at one hundred fucking angles.”

“Yay!” Phichit cried as he punched the air, “JJ is the new hero!”

A few laughs followed the statement, and Yuri felt the warm, familiar weight of Otabek's arm around his waist.

“But I'm still your hero, right, Yura?” Otabek asked gently, and he pressed a kiss to the blond's temple. Yuri was painfully aware of how the room had gone curiously silent as everyone waited for Yuri's answer.

“Of course,” Yuri said quickly in an effort to get the focus off himself, and he turned to kiss Otabek properly.

“Oh, look at them,” crooned Chis, “that's just so sweet. How come I never get any of that?”

“Buy me a drink first,” Viktor quipped.

“Such hard work!”

“But worth it.” Viktor grinned, and a chorus of laughs broke out while Yuri pulled back from the kiss. Otabek's arm tensed around him, stopping him from going anywhere.

“Are you sure you're all right, Yura?” Otabek asked softly, while the others resumed their chatter. “You've been kind of...depressed all evening.”

Yuri touched his cheek, and offered him another kiss.

“I'm fine, really,” Yuri replied, his lips scant millimetres from Otabek's. “I'm just tired, that's all.”

Otabek seemed uncertain how much of Yuri's explanation was simply bravado, but thankfully, he didn't press him any further. Yuri forced a smile as Phichit brandished the selfie stick like a sword, and took the promised one picture of them all. Otabek stood at Yuri's back, holding him close, and the taller of the group—Chris, Viktor, and JJ—surrounded them, with Yuuri at Yuri's side, and Phichit a little closer to the front, cracking one of his ridiculously happy-go-lucky smiles.

One picture, of course, turned into ten, as Yuri complained that he did not like the first few. Only Yuri seemed to notice the flaw, the way JJ's eyes were constantly on him, and not on the phone's camera lens.

On the eleventh try, JJ finally seemed to catch the hint, and levelled his blue stare with the camera, grinning in his trademark, annoying-as-fuck sort of way that made Yuri weak in the knees.

After the picture, Otabek broke his promise and did not kick everyone out, but ended the meal with a vanilla sponge cake piled high with whipped cream and glazed strawberries, and a round of coffee and tea.

Yuri did his best to act normal, but the picture mishap was grating on him. JJ wasn't teasing him anymore, and was instead chatting amiably with the group (though for all the attention they paid him he may as well have been talking to himself). Yuri tried to not look at him, and focused instead on his barely-touched slice of cake, but the guilt bubbling inside him was almost too much, and his hand shook at the effort it took to quash it down and not make any sort of dramatic scene.

This is too much, Yuri thought miserably through the forced smiles and kisses with Otabek, I think if I don't come clean soon I might explode, but how can I?

Yuri looked at Otabek.

He was always quiet, never one to reach out and talk much. But he was warm, and his bad boy routine was such a ridiculous front, that once Yuri really got to know who Otabek was, it seemed almost funny.   He didn't know anyone as sweet and caring as his fiancé, and that made his betrayal feel even worse.

Yuri shifted his glance to JJ.

He was completely different to Otabek, despite the fact that they looked a little similar. JJ was outgoing, arrogant, and rough. He was fiercely passionate, never sat still, and knew just the right buttons to push to make Yuri crazy. It was passionate, and always left Yuri feeling totally and completely satisfied.

But was it enough? He wasn't even sure he felt anything for JJ beyond lust, if he left Otabek for JJ, would he be making a huge mistake?

Yuri came to no conclusions, and as they bid their guests goodnight, Yuri was quick to rush to the bedroom and collapse into bed.

Otabek sauntered in a few minutes later, and Yuri felt the bed dip as Otabek sat down.

“You're gonna be uncomfortable if you sleep in skinny jeans, Yura,” Otabek said as he placed a hand against the small of his back. Yuri grunted, and lifted his head off the pillow just enough to glance at Otabek.

“I'm fine, Beka,” he mumbled, but found himself wholly unsurprised when Otabek took to the task of peeling him out of his jeans and wiggling him into a pair of flannel drawstring pyjama pants.

Otabek finished by tugging Yuri's shirt and hoodie off before settling in bed himself, and he pressed a kiss to the side of Yuri's neck. His large hand ran up and down the centre of Yuri's chest, and Yuri shivered.

“Are you upset that I surprised you?” Otabek asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “I just wanted to cheer you up; you've been so depressed lately. Are you...do you...”

Yuri clenched his eyes shut, but the physical act of closing his eyes still did not prepare him for Otabek's question.

“...do you regret agreeing to marry me?”

“No,” Yuri said quickly as he rolled over to face Otabek, whose face was lined with worry. Yuri leant in and kissed him lightly. “Of course I don't, Beka. I love you.”

“Because, if you're just not ready, we can wait, I don't mind breaking off the engagement if you want a little more time, I know we're still kind of young, so I just—”

Yuri interrupted his fiancé's rambling with a kiss, and Yuri felt virtually every bone in Otabek's body relax. Yuri reached up and stroked his hair as they kissed, and he felt nothing but deep, overwhelming shame at his lies.

Yuri tried to imagine how he could even begin to tell Otabek the truth.

I've been seeing someone you hate behind your back for nearly a year.

When we make love, I feel nothing.

I didn't tell you because I was afraid of hurting you.

There was no way Yuri could tell him, he knew that. It would break his heart.

It was supposed to be just sex, Yuri thought miserably as Otabek's kisses became more feverish, and he dropped his hands to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. An indescretion that happened once because fucking JJ figured out that I get weirdly turned on by his damn nickname for me, and now...

Otabek's large hands pushed down the garment, and he closed one of his hands over Yuri's cock. Yuri gasped, and let out a soft groan as Otabek began to stroke him. The touch effectively clouded his mind, and he moaned again as he trembled and shuddered under Otabek's practiced hands.

“Ngh...s-so good, JJ...”

Otabek's hand froze, and Yuri's eyes snapped open.

Oh, fuck.

“What did you say?” Otabek asked. He snapped off each word coldly, and he removed his hands from Yuri with a jerk, as though he'd been burned.

“Beka, please, I didn't mean it, I...”

“I'm sure you didn't,” Otabek interrupted sarcastically, “I know all sorts of people who say not just the wrong name in bed, but a person they hate instead of the name of their fucking fiancé!”

Otabek jumped from the bed and began to pace, his hands buried in his hair.

“How long?”

Yuri bowed his head, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, but he didn't answer. A firm hand grabbed him by the jaw, and forced his gaze back up. Yuri yelped in surprise and pain, but Otabek did not let go.

“How long?” he snarled. “How long have you been lying to me, cheating on me? How long have you worn my ring, while you let him fuck you?”

“Get your hands off me,” Yuri snarled as he pushed him away and jumped from the bed. Otabek stumbled back, but his look of anger did not fade.

“How long, Yuri?” He demanded again, his voice jumping up in volume to something just shy of an angry shout. Yuri flinched at the sound of it.

“Just shy of twelve months,” Yuri mumbled, not looking at his fiancé as he spoke. Out of the corner of his eye, he did not miss the look of shock and pain that registered upon Otabek's face.

“Give me my ring,” Otabek said, his voice even and cold.

“Wh-what?”

“I said give me my fucking ring! Do you think I'd ever want to be near you after you after—”

“—it was a mistake, all right?” Yuri interrupted as his vision began to swim and it registered what was about to happen. “Please, Beka, I didn't mean to—”

“—what, you tripped and fell on his dick?” Otabek sneered in a very uncharacteristic tone of voice that made Yuri shiver. “That's is the biggest load of bullshit I have ever heard. Try again.”

“I—I...I don't know,” Yuri stammered nervously, “he just...I just...he seduced me!”

“That is so painfully, laughably pathetic that I am not even going to dignify it with an answer,” Otabek snapped, and stepped towards Yuri with purpose. “Give me back my ring. I mean it, Yuri, don't make me pull it off myself.”

Yuri's eyes flooded with tears again, and with shaking hands, he yanked off the piece of jewellery and threw it at Otabek. It bounced off his chest and he caught it, his expression still burning with anguish at the betrayal. He stepped back from Yuri, grabbed his empty backpack off the ground, and shoved it into his hands.

“You have exactly five minutes to pack a bag, then I want you to get the fuck out of here,” Otabek said coldly, and Yuri blinked as tears began to streak his cheeks.

“Where—where am I supposed to go?”

“Go to him,” Otabek sneered, “obviously that's where you'd rather be. I don't give a fuck, Yuri, all I know is that I want you out. Get packing. You have four minutes and forty-five seconds left.”

His hands trembling slightly from shock, Yuri went to the closet and yanked out his clothes, took his laptop off the desk, grabbed his phone, got dressed, and picked up his sports bag before heading to the bathroom to cram his toiletries in on top of everything else. As he packed, Otabek followed him, his expression closed off, but Yuri could still feel the rage coming off him in waves. Privately he hoped that Otabek might have a change of heart, and at least let him stay the night, but that proved to be nothing more than wishful thinking when Otabek all but shoved Yuri out the door and slammed it in his face.

Yuri stared at the door, his breath escaping him in visible puffs, but Otabek did not open it back up. He heard the lock shift into place, and tears stung his eyes again. He knew he could just as easily unlock it with his own set of keys, but at the thought of being tossed back out, Yuri instead stepped down from the doorway, and looked at the empty, darkened street.

The sidewalks and pavement were covered in a thin layer of snow, and more flakes fluttered idly in the light of the streetlamps. A car would occasionally drive by, leaving distinct tread marks in the fresh powder. Because of the late hour, Yuri was the only pedestrian on the street.

Where am I supposed to go? Yuri wondered miserably as he stepped down from the door and looked up and down the empty stretch of road. The idea of going to JJ felt wrong so soon after being found out by Otabek, and the thought of going somewhere else—like to Viktor and Katsudon felt wrong, too, but for a very different reason. If he went there, he'd have to explain why Otabek had been thrown out, and that was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

I'm so fucking stupid, Yuri thought miserably as he began to walk aimlessly. If I had just stopped, or, I don't know, not cheated, none of this would have happened...

The wind picked up as Yuri walked, and he grimaced as it stung his cheeks. He followed the sidewalk, uncertain where to go, and he weighed his options as the apartment buildings around him gave way to expensive houses, then to lines of shops as he moved onto the busier roads.

It had taken nearly forty-five minutes of walking in sub-zero temperatures to make it to this particular street, and Yuri could feel himself trembling from cold. Luckily, there was a twenty-four-hour Starbucks nearby, and Yuri made a beeline for it.

The interior smelt of good coffee and warm pastry, and was a welcome reprieve from the budding snowstorm outside. Despite the late hour, there was still a few clusters of university students around the place, all their laptops open and tables flooded with paper coffee cups and textbooks.

“Venti black coffee and pumpkin muffin please,” Yuri said absently as he sidled up to the counter and dug in his pockets for his wallet, only to curse when he realized that he'd left it at home.

Not home, not anymore, Yuri thought suddenly, and was almost overwhelmed with grief.

“Um,” Yuri coughed in an effort to get rid of the tremor in his voice. “Do you take that digital debit thing?”

“Yeah,” the bored barista replied, “there's a fifty-cent surcharge though.”

“That's fine, I'll do that,” Yuri replied, and fished out his phone.

After paying for the grossly overpriced coffee and baked good, Yuri selected a table near to the front window, and watched the storm howl outside. He was exhausted, and he wanted to sleep, but at the same time he had no idea where he could go. Without ID he couldn't check into a hotel, and he still mentally balked at the idea of going to Viktor and Yuuri for help, or JJ.

As Yuri sat there he fished out his phone, and began to scroll through his social networking platforms, but it seemed as though almost no one was awake, save for one vague yet ominous tweet from Otabek.

#nowplaying Good Fucking Bye. #shock #whathappened #fuckyou

There were a few hundred responses from Otabek's fanbase, all of whom were speculating on what he could mean, and a few gossip Twitter accounts had already got hold of the tweet. The presence of it was shocking, to say the least. Otabek rarely used social media, and to send off such a personal tweet seemed wildly out of character for him.

Unless he's been drinking, Yuri thought sourly as he sipped his coffee, then he's all about oversharing on twitter and instagram.

Unable to look at it anymore, Yuri locked his phone and flipped it over on the tabletop to focus instead on the coffee in his hands.

Yuri stayed in the coffee shop for the rest of the night.

With nowhere to go that didn't make his pride bristle with negation, he sat in his booth, drinking coffee after coffee, both in an effort to stay awake, and to keep the baristas from gently kicking him out.

Around four or five the storm had blown itself out, and by six, the snow plows were out in force, clearing away the mountains that had accumulated overnight.

As the sun began to rise properly, Yuri began to feel the effects of his sleepless night more strongly. He felt sick and dizzy, and his stomach was cramping up from the countless strong coffees he had drunk. He was trying to decide if it was safe to sneak back home and get his wallet, presuming Otabek was either passed out from drinking too much or already at the rink, but a voice speaking his name quickly drew him out of his bubble of thought.

“Yuri?”

The uncertainty in the tone, paired with the use of his proper name and not some sort of nickname meant that at first, Yuri didn't recognize it.

Yuri looked up with bleary eyes, and blinked hard when he saw JJ standing there. He was a little pale, as though he hadn't been awake for very long, and the bottom quarter of his black track pants were caked in melting snow.

Yuri grunted in response, and dropped his gaze down to his unfinished coffee. The non-answer did not placate JJ in the slightest, and he hurried over to Yuri's table to sit next to him.

“You look awful,” he said in that same soft and unfamiliar tone. “What happened?”

“B-Beka found out about us last night after you guys all left,” Yuri mumbled before he could think better of it, and sniffed sharply when he felt his throat begin to tighten. “He kicked me out. Had nowhere to go, so I came here. Didn't want to tell people what happened...as a matter of fact, I'm not totally sure why I'm even telling you.”

“Because I am handsome and charming, and everybody loves me,” JJ replied smoothly while he crouched down to scoop up Yuri's bags, then eased him to his feet. Yuri snorted at the self-compliment, and grudgingly followed JJ's lead, stumbling a little as the Canadien wrapped an arm around his waist and led him to the doors. “Come on, Kitten, I'm taking you home so you can get some rest.”

A/N:  If you like my work, please consider throwing a few bucks into my Digital Tip Jar. I am a starving artist, and I like not actually starving to death :P

KAK Masterpost

[albino-ottsel]

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It is the primary time in 119 years that they've needed to cancel a days displaying. Splendidly the alpaca showing and the colour championships would carry on regardless. Much less foolish inquiries to reply at the pens and a concentration of breeders without distractions. Vickery was in first and was awarded Reserve Champion Grey Male behind Di Davies' large boy. What a begin to the day, once more. It was then brown time and Tsar was also awarded Reserve Champion brown male behind a Classical Mile Finish junior with a stunningly dense fleece. No complaints there and feelings beneath management. Tsar, exhausted by his exploits spent the rest of the day quick asleep. Total a massively profitable and enjoyable present for us. I now have two days at house earlier than setting off with the Mighty Patou Present group to the Royal Bath and West Present. This time I will probably be accompanied by Gus and his finest mate George so I'll as soon as again be relegated to my role of Patou photographer and cooker of sausage.

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By putting in plenty of perches on your ladies to roost on at evening you may help them to feel protected and this is fairly essential and shouldn't be underestimated. There actually isn't any want to fret about your DIY expertise not being up to grasp carpenter stage. It's as simple as choosing up your tools and following a incredible set of plans that information you through stage by stage. Before you understand it your chickens shall be settled into their new residence. Constructing a home rooster coop is the proper means to boost chickens and provides them the perfect housing you probably can, it can be completed actually economically too. Now you recognize what is critical in creating hen housing – would not you need to get the remainder of the particular construct data right? Uncover all of the secrets and techniques to elevating chickens at residence by taking a take a look at one of the crucial comprehensive and informative hen related web sites on-line. Writing has turn out to be a little bit of a two pronged sword to coin a phrase. I am not allowed in the ring very often these days, Gus and Sue take pleasure in it a lot and do a terrific job, so I am relegated to crew photographer and common dogsbody. We had taken a staff of 6. The 2 junior black Qjori women, Violet and Willow had been first up. Right here is Gus with Violet, personally selected for Gus, by me, as being the best of the two. What do I know as a brief while later they had been unplaced and doing the 'stroll of disgrace' back to the pen. Look how attentive he's although, excellent! Sue, in the meantime, was with Willow who took a really good third place. We have been up and running! Subsequent was Vanilla, a junior brown Qjori lady. Another giant class and Vanilla took a fourth place rosette. The judges bought it spot on with their feedback noting the brittle fleece and her situation as well as mentioning that she had a lovely extremely structured fleece, nice words to hear. Gus demonstrates the easiest way to carry a rosette once it has been bagged! After Vanilla came her mum, Amelie in the senior brown female class.

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