#it takes soooo long to upload dear god

[lost-in-fandoms]

Max and Crane sharing the braincell

[mel-the-fangirl]

The Escort

Walter Marshall x Reader

Words: 2,064

Warnings: none

Happy super late Valentine’s, Cavillry! As usual, this is a very very late upload but in my defense, it does say in my bio that I am a procrastinator soooo... Anyway, I’m really excited about this miniseries because I love the movie (The Wedding Date, 2005) and I really wanted to write Walter, I hope I do him justice!

Feedback (good and bad!) means the world to me as rookie writer, so I hope you’ll like, reblog and leave me some replies!

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You could not believe you were doing this. You just couldn't. But there you were doing it, even though your mind screeched at you to stop and save a little dignity for yourself.

The fact that you even considered doing this was already a serious loss of dignity points, so what the hell. People did this all the time, didn’t they? There wouldn’t be a whole network of people clumped into this app if it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

It just wasn’t a normal occurrence for you.

Once you filled your head with rationalisations to make yourself feel better, you took a deep breath and began browsing through what the great city of New York had to offer.

Z, 6’, loving hands, fit, athletic, good manners, for water sports, caramel complexion.

For water sports? What in the hell did that mean? And that single initial in place of an actual name? Serial killer vibes. No, thank you.

Lenny, 6’2”, pretty fit Italian, excellent dinner companion, all occasions catered.

Alright. Okay. Now we’re talking. Tall, European, excellent dinner companion equals to good conversationalist, accommodating. Lenny goes on the list of possibilities.

Terry, 6’, my soft voice will arouse you, my strong hands will pleasure you,  let me show you how a woman should be treated, hourly/overnight rates.

Oh no no no. Major creep vibes from Terry. That ad alone had you reaching for another long swig of wine.

Joey, 5’8”, are you into champagne?, bodybuilder, will treat you like a queen.

“If you like piña coladas…” you sang in not even remotely the right key, topping off your drink

Josh, 5’9”, I can make you feel sexy and wanted. Fit, sensual, strong.

“Well!” you exclaimed drunkenly, almost spilling wine on your couch, “Tough beans, Josh! I don’t need a man to make me feel sexy and wanted!” you faltered a bit, your drunk mind still seeing the holes in your logic

“I just… Need a man to help me not look like a tragic spinster in front of my family and my ex...”

With that thought fresh in your mind, you reached for some more wine.

The ads went on and on as you scrolled through your phone, it was all a little overwhelming, how were you going to make sure you weren't hiring some psychopathic serial killing pervert to pose as your date to your sister's wedding?

The groan you let out bounced off the walls of your apartment. The reality of your situation was sinking in little by little. 

Yes. You were hiring a male escort for your sister's wedding. It was your baby sister's wedding, by the way. You were a hundred percent aware that what you were doing was completely and utterly pathetic but you’ve already weighed the pros and cons in your head countless times.

Showing up alone: pitying looks, whispering behind your back, having to face ex by yourself, staggering levels of embarrassment.

Showing up with handsome -hired- date: mother can finally get off your back, date is more handsome than ex, ex will want to shrivel up and die, no one will know date is male escort except you and him.

Now, let’s break down some of the guests just for the sake of being thorough. 

There’s your slightly overbearing mother (slightly meaning every call you have with her opens with the question: “how's your love life, dear?” or “I have the most amazing man to set you up with!”), all of her judgy eagle-eyed friends (mostly rich widows whose sons your mom shamelessly shoves your way), your extended family (some terrifyingly old school great aunts and uncles who will definitely ask if you’re married and smile sympathetically when you say you’re not), and last but certainly not the least, Jeffrey, your ex-fiancé (best man, but apparently not the best man for you, his words not yours).

"Lordy fuck." you exhaled hard, chugging your wine straight from the bottle

How on earth did you get here? Sitting alone in your apartment, working your way through your second bottle of wine (or third? Who was keeping count?), clicking on ads that spoke of "hot single males in your area" waiting to meet you.

Would it be fair to pin it all on the end of your engagement?

Picturing that moment, you decided that it was only fair. Those were five years of your life you would never get back, you were prepared to sign on for more but, yeah.

You were blindsided, that's the only way to describe it. All the while, you thought that you and Jeffrey were on the same page, at the same place in life. You were the golden couple, the couple that all the other couples wished they could be, when you two walked past, girlfriends would give their boyfriends a slap on the shoulder that meant, "Why can't we be more like them?"

It was so out of nowhere, one minute you were discussing wedding cake options over dinner, then suddenly you're putting the ring in his palm, completely in shock. 

After that, you threw yourself into your work despite the fact that you were already a budding workaholic to begin with. That's how you ended up earning six figures a year. 

Six figure salary, check. Doing pretty well in life all things considered, check.

But even with all that, there weren't any conversations over casseroles and cobblers about your many achievements. Nope, your mother and her friends would much rather discuss their worries that you would essentially, die alone.

Your little sister, Amy, getting married before you didn't exactly help to put a lid on all the chatter. And with Jeffrey being the best man? And you being maid of honour? 

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

Maybe you could make up an excuse believable enough to get you off the hook so you wouldn’t have to go?

Were you really thinking about bailing on your little sister’s wedding? If she wasn’t taking cues from your mother, it would be the only one she ever had.

Not one of your finest moments as a sibling.

With the complications of your situation fully realised, you took to reading the ads with a little more effort. Luckily, you didn’t have to look for long.

Nick, 6’, male, tall, good looking, strong build. You will not be disappointed.

The ad was considerably less flashy than the others but you supposed that’s what drew you to it in the first place. It was understated, simple, and his ad wasn’t entirely made up of overcompensating flexing pics.

Mostly because he didn’t need them.

Call off the search, send the boys home. You had a winner here!

Staring up at you from your phone screen was the most handsome man you have ever seen in your life. Literally.

A mane of thick, artfully disheveled curly hair, eyes that were a light shade of blue that had a sort of dark intensity and intelligence that you could spend days trying to understand, and a smile. Oh, that smile was absolutely suckerpunching. It was odd though, something in your head was telling you that this man did not smile often.

You couldn’t tell if the warmth blooming in your chest and creeping towards your cheeks was from all the wine or from examining this prime specimen. Jeez Louise!

“Phew!” you fanned yourself upon stumbling on a photo of him crossing his arms in a tank top. Good God, you hoped he had a license for those guns!

You had to set your phone down for a minute to think things through although it seemed absolutely nuts that you had to think twice at all. It’s just that after the initial excitement and hormones wore off, it was becoming more and more evident that this man was too good to be true.

Just look at him! Were there actually men that looked like that? And why didn’t they live closer to you? A quick sweep of his profile placed him in Minneapolis.

What were the crime rates like there? And did they have a high rate of murders relating to escort services?

Before you could even google anything related to that, you stopped yourself. If you kept at this rate, you would never get anything done! Finally, after a methodical deliberation (aka ogling the pictures on his ad), you saved Nick’s contact number to your phone.

Aaand that’s as far as you’d go for the night. You could call him tomorrow when you weren’t a floundering drunk. It was like your mother always said, “Always be sober for a business transaction, but anything else calls for a cocktail.”

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

The following morning, you sat at your little breakfast nook, eggs still piping hot and untouched, and a hangover in full effect. You’ve been staring at the phone number for so long, you could say it in your sleep.

Come on, Y/N, the wedding is five freaking days away.

What if this guy was fully booked? You didn’t want to spend five days surrounded by family with Mr. my-soft-voice-will-arouse-you, did you?

You slammed your finger down on the call icon and stuck the phone to your ear. Your heart beat faster and faster with every ring and your palms became so slick with sweat that you almost dropped your phone a couple of times. 

Maybe you should have taken your mother up on the multiple occasions that she wanted to set you up with someone. Alright, on second thought, you didn’t really want to be with someone who only looked good on paper but was actually an insufferable mama’s boy.

“Hello?” a male voice answered, catching you off-guard

Oh, God. Okay, you’re really doing this.

“Yes, hi! Hi. Uh, I’m looking for Nick!” you chirped, in a startled high pitched squeak you didn’t dare recognise as your own

The silence on the other end was starting to make you sweat behind the knees. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t mention any specifics.

“Uh, sorry! I got this number from the, uh, the ad. I’m looking for Nick?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s right, but Nick isn’t in right now. This is his manager.”

Was that a good sign? That a male escort had a manager? Did all male escorts have managers? You clearly didn’t know enough about this stuff.

“It’s a pleasure, Mister..?”

There was another beat of silence before the person on the other line answered, you tried your hardest not to overthink about what that could have meant.

“Foley! I’m Foley, Nick’s manager.” Mr. Foley’s voice returned to your ear, sounding much too bright for your liking. 

Christ, what were you, a cop? To be honest, you were exhausted. Despite all the alcohol in your system last night, you barely got any sleep. You spent the rest of the night reading through some reviews of Nick’s service as an escort.

He had a glittering five star rating.

One woman hired him to pose as her husband at a high school reunion and by the end of the night, she ended up proposing to him. He respectfully declined and even bought her dinner afterwards.

That review alone was enough to convince you that you would be in good hands. So, it was time to buckle down, swallow the nerves, and handle your business like the adult you were.

“Mr. Foley,” you shook your hair out and put on your professional voice. “I’d like to book your client for five days, give or take. I need a plus one for a wedding. Is he available to leave on the-”

“Please hold. I’ll check his schedule.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mention when I-”

“He’s available. Would you prefer to pick him up at JFK or will he meet you at your place of residence?”

“Oh. Uh, I guess I could pick him up. Do I pay for his ticket or..?” you were feeling a teensy bit of whiplash at how fast this was all going

There was some rustling on the other line and the muffled sounds of bickering. You tried not to let that concern you.

“We’ll handle that, Ms. Y/L/N. We have your number, we’ll be in touch for further details. Good bye.”

The line went dead and you were left staring at your phone in confusion. Did you tell him your name?

[dahcyst]

A Flower for the Bee [Chapter 6]

[AO3 link : http://archiveofourown.org/works/9238850/chapters/21205610]

The next day, Yuri had waken up with some difficulties. He hadn't drunk last night for his birthday, as he was still underage for the two incoming years, but going home so late after the small party had just left him dead in his bed. Dealing with J.J. had been quite weird and totally impossible. Dark eyes had been looking down on him when he'd tried to get the man's cellphone, and the smirk on J.J.'s face was really pissing him off. Victor had soon stopped both them, claiming the phone as his -and it actually was true: J.J. hadn't been using his own cell the whole night and Yuri learned later that Victor had lent an old one of his to the Canadian. It seemed that his coming from so far wasn't that prepared as he hadn't made the advances for a journey phone credit.  

He'd tried to ask Victor –more or less roughly, violently, even threatened the man, but the skater never returned the phone, and didn't even bother answer to Yuri's rude words.  

"None of my business, boys," he'd said despite the protests.  

After that, the party hadn't last for long, and Yakov had drove him back home; it appeared that J.J.  was really sleeping at Victor's during his stay. At the end of the evening (or the early morning? He wasn't sure), the man looked pretty exhausted and Yuri had suddenly remembered the huge jet lag between Russia and Canada. It was already quite impressive that J.J. had survived that entire time –or maybe he'd taken a nap in the afternoon before taking him to Victor's place.  

Speacking of J.J., Yuri hadn't seen any pictures of the small party on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr...He'd checked Victor's, J.J.'s, aven Yakov's account even though the old man wasn't one to take pictures and didn't quite understand how to upload a photograph, let alone make a publication alone. He used to ask Georgi or Mila when he needed some help.  

J.J.'s accounts on social medias didn't have anything new published since...Days. Weeks. It had made Yuri frown a little since J.J. had always been someone who posted a lot of things –especially things that made others feel like they wanted to punch him right in the face, and especially Yuri. But the last thing Yuri saw in tCanadian's feed was that selfie Isabella and him had taken together at the end of their wedding. He was still wearing her white veil, her dark hair hair tied up in an amazing bun that Yuri was petty sure it had taken hours to make due to the lack of lenght.  

"Wow, got new clothes?"  

At Mila's words, Yuri raised his eyes up to her as he was lacing his skates and nodded silently. With that gaze of hers, he knew that she was aware of what had happened the night before –or at least about that gift. Did she knew about Otabek, the incoming duet and why she was training so much with him lately?  

"You look a bit tired, is it gonna be ok today?" She asked sitting near on the same bench.  

"I'll go easy for today," he sighed. "Yakov's been pretty irresponsable for once, taking me home soooo late..."  

He knew for sure that Victor wouldn't be here in the morning : the man was a heavy sleeper and knowing that J.J. was at his place didn't help with that feeling. Before leaving his phone on the bench with his towel, Yuri gave an eye in his mailbox in case he would get a new message from Otabek. He actually hadn't been sleeping right away after getting home last night, sending some words to the Kazakh. The man had answered almost immediatly, putting his nerves to the edge. For God's sake, when was he even sleeping!?

 Yura : "When are you coming in Moscow then?"

   Ota-bee : "By the end of the week, I'll tell you"

   Yura : "Ok then"

Oh man. It had kept him from sleeping for a good couple of hours more and he wasn't sure if he had even sleep a complete hour that night. His brain was feeling like dead, not running properly to his liking –he didn't have strenght enough to answer back Mila's bad jokes. His body was painful enough to make him grunt even more than usually. But the idea of skating with Otabek Altin was somehow worth it. Well, not somehow. The simple thought of being able to stand by his side on the ice made his heart jolt and beat so hard that he wasn't sure if it was due to the excitment or the tireness or anything.  

Mila laughed gently, then patted his head with her thin hand. "You're a lot on your phone lately," she said. "Finally got a girlfriend?"  

Before he could even think about his answer, Yuri gave her a dark death glare as he was leaving his phone screen for a few seconds. "What?"  

"Wow, don't look at me like that, you're scary!"  

"Your fault! What kind of nonsense are you saying!?" Yuri spit. He had tightened his grip on the frame of his phone, his thumb pushing pretty fast on the main button to darken the screen. But she grinned anyway; he hadn't been quick enough for it not to be noticed.  

"Sooooo, what's her name?" She continued.  

Yuri grit his teeth. "There's no 'her', stupid!"  

She opened her eyes wild. "Oh! That's a 'he' then? I didn't know you were into guys!"  

Yuri coughed pretty hard at her suggestion and the lace slip off his hands as he was giving her the most threatening gaze of his. Or at least he tried but the sudden heat all other his face wasn't  helping and he wasn't sure if being red to the ears was something convincing enough against Mila.  

"WHAT!?"

"What 'what'?" She shrugged. "Aren't you?"

"I'M NOT GAY OF COURSE YOU DUMBASS!"  

The silence that fell between the two of them suddenly took him deep and he felt a heavy lump forming in his throat as Mila was staring at him. Her gaze was as curious as puzzled. The few people not so far around the rink had turned their attention toward them and it made him feel pretty bad. But the young woman soon sighed softly, standing slowly.  

"Yeah," she simply said. "You're not, of course. Sorry if I've upset you, okay?"  

Once again this week, Yuri felt the guilt taking him deep in his stomach. Mila's features had suddenly changed and if he didn't know why, he knew it was because of what he'd just said. That subject was something he'd never really thought about. A girlfriend, or even a boyfriend, weren't something that had their place in his life right now. He didn't have enough time or energy for such things –let alone nobody was interesting enough in his current daily life to even consider the idea.  

"O-okay," he mumbled.  

She quickly left, gone for a little warm-up on the ice and Yuri sighed, pushing again on the button of his cellphone to enlight the screen again. Otabek was online and he counted. It was something like lunch time for the Kazakh and he didn't even got surprised when the picture of a plate full of letuce and chicken suddenly appeared in their conversation.  

 Ota-bee : "Seriously I feel like a girl on a diet"  

Yuri hardly held his laughter back.  

 Yura : "wtf why are you eating that?"  

   Ota-bee : "Coach said so?"

   Yura : "don't tell me you're one to listen to your coach!"

   Ota-bee : "why not, it worked pretty well till now"

Yuri stared at it for a few good seconds, trying to imagine Otabek purposely doing whatever his coach would be asking him to do. Was his body, his final frame, his strength, the result of what his coach had decided? Or did Otabek himself asked for this. Their was something that Yuri knew about Otabek: his skills on the ice were ones that had make Victor coming back in competition, and for this the Kazakh was a serious rival. He had't been the only one to be that reason, of course, just a part of the story, but still. Victor had taken an interest on the young man –or, more specifically, his body.  

Yuri sighed.  

 Yura : "ok ok why not"

   Ota-bee : "How is your training btw?"

   Yura : "terrible"

   Ota-bee : "?"

   Yura : "wanna sleep"

   Ota-bee : "Ahah same to be honest"

He caught himself smiling at the written laughter; he coud imagine the soft giggle from the man, the dimples at the corner of his mouth and his eyes, sweet and dark at the same time as he would be shaking his head a little.  

 Yura : "Take a nap dumbass"

   Ota-bee : "I will"

   Ota-bee : "but it's kind of crowded here now"

   Yura : "Really?"  

   Ota-bee : "Yeah small demo this afternoon"

   Ota-bee : "Hope I won's sleep on the ice lol"

Yuri huffed a little at the unusual 'lol' at the end of the message. It wasn't so...Not Otabek? The man wasn't one to use that type of shortcut –most of the time he typed full sentences, except sometimes when he was in a rush or something that kept him from being able to take his time to write properly on his cellphone.  

 Yura: "sleep now then?"

   Ota-bee : "no way"

   Yura : "man, you're stupid?"

   Ota-bee : "We are chatting, i don't want to sleep now"

Yuri had suddenly been holding his breath and the only thing that made him inspire again was Mila's call for him. Oh dears. What could he honestly answer to this when he only wanted to be a few days ahead of now?  

 Yura : "I'm off see you"

Then he shove his phone between his folded towel layers to hide it at least a little and decided to finally join the young woman. What was that, seriously? Yuri didn't like what he'd just done, leaving Otabek so suddenly when the man had just said...Uh. Well, when he'd just said that. Had the Kazakh absolutly no pride to be able to say such a thing to a friend?  

"Hey Yuuuuriiiii!" Mila called again.  

With a deep sigh and a grimace at his painful articulations when he'd stand up, Yuri reached the young woman. Mila's hair was finally long enough to tie it up in a very small ponytail and it showed up her so little ears. With her pale skin and puckish blue eyes, let alone her deviish smile and than damn body of her, the boy was pretty sure she was incredibly attractive and might have tons of suitors. But he'd never seen her with someone until now.  

She watched him coming, hands on her hips and tsk'ed a little at him, making the blond raise a eyebrow. "Boy, you look sooo down! Are you really tired?"  

"I already fucking told you, Mila! They trapped me last night in Victor's apartment! I've barely slept, I'm DEAD, how can't you get something so simple?"

She laughed a little at his mad expression. "Right, riiiiight!"  

Cheeks red from being suddenly annoyed, Yuri mumbled and started sliding on the ice to get used to the thing again during a few seconds. Here. Like that. He needed that. He wanted that soft feeling of air brushing his face, his body suddenly so light as it was heading straight on this line. His knees were still as fuck, the dull pain irradiating from his articulations to the muscles of his thights. Sometimes, it was unbearable and he wondered how he still hadn't given up on all that shit.  

Georgi soon joined them in the training. The man wasn't preparing the new season. If he hadn't retired, his life had slightly changed since he met his new girlfriend and to be honest, his personnality was way smoother than when he was dating that superficial Anya.  

"Hey, Yuri!" Georgi suddenly called.  

The boy stopped strenching his body at the sound of his voice and turned his attention to him. The man was scratching his head and slid with curiosity near Yuri before suddenly grabbing his sides with both hands. He earned a surprised sound.  

"GEOR--"

"Are you injured or something?" He simply asked.  

Yuri blinked a little. "What?"

Georgi was frowning a little, visibly concerned. "Aren't you?" He continued. "I thought so, your skating is quite different lately."

The blond Russian froze a little at Georgi's words. Was it so obvious that something was happening? Had he been so freacking bad that even Georgi had noticed? Not hat Georgi was a bad skater, not at all, but he wasn't one to really care about others' way of skating.  

Yuri swallowed the lump in his throat with some difficulties. "I...Might have some cramps," he lied. Or rather, it wasn't completly a lie. He was, at least, admitting that something wasn't really ok. Georgi raised an eyebrow.  

"Aaahh, I was right then! Since when? Is it painful? You skate a little as if you had, uh, well..."

"As if I had what?"

"A tree up in your ass, actually."  

Yuri stared at the man for a moment, not sure if he had really heard what he had just heard. But Georgi was still standing before him, intensively thinking about the situation.  

"What the fuck did you say?"

"Oh, I mean, you still skate like a damn goddess –DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, you were the prima ballerina after all!"  

"SPIT IT ALREADY POPOVITCH!"

"But that's a bit weird, I mean, you're stiff and all that, like, well, I mean, that's just why I'm asking? You look so uncomfortable with your body right now, that's the weirdest thing I've ever seen from you!"

"Shitty bast--"  

But Mila's hand suddenly on the top of his head stopped Yurio in his incoming colorful cursing litany toward Georgi. Her fingers were cold and her looks concerned.  

"What?" He growled.  

But she only shrugged a little with a small odd smile –and for once he was prtty sure it wasn't made out of pity.  

"Georgi, go train somewhere else," she said. "And leave us some room, ok?"  

"What the...Yeah, ok, ok!"  

The man mumbled when she scowled him a death glare, and Yuri could swear that he wouldn't have looked better himself at that 'dark eyes' game. Once Georgi was gone, or at least far away enough for her liking, she turned back to him.  

"So..." She grinned at the boy, stretching a little on place, arms above her head. "What can't you do anymore?"

Yuri frowned deeply. "I didn't say I--"

"I said," she cut out. "What can't you do anymore?"  

He clenched his jaw, almost painfully, silent for a few good seconds as she was staring at him. "Mila, I--"

"Don't you want to dance with Otabek?"  

The question suddenly went out, lingering in the air for a moment as he froze. Before he knew it, she had put her arm around his neck, body close enough to his and wa whispering to hi ear. Her breath was hot, like damn, how could she be like that when the place was made of ice?  

"I'm here to teach you, Yuri," she murmured. "So, don't you want it? Dancing with him? Do you really think that you're powerful enough to be paired with the guy?"  

Powerful was the word. Yuri gulped despite himself at the memory of the srong body evoluating on the ice and Mila scoffed a little at his discreet reaction.  

"Now, you'd only be a pain in the ass for him, ok? You don't fit his style at all, and as I'm the one who know the choreo, I can tell that you have a lot to do in such a few time, baby tiger..."  

She laughed a little more openly at his decomposed expression, especially when his green eyes were looking for an escape on her face. She suddenly burst into a huge laughter this time, and gave a big hit in his back with her hand, making his cough so hard that he thought he was going to spit out his lungs.  

"Don't make such a face, babe!" She said. From the distance, Georgi was giving them a curious look, full with his lack of understanding. She didn't give him any attention.  

Yuri sighed, this time without holding hmself back. As tired as he was, Mila's words had made their way to his brain and he could feel the hint of excitment making his guts twitch with need.  

"Why are you doing this?" He asked.  

"Victor told me," she shrugged and he winced a little. "Plus, it's pretty funny to see you in this situation. And somehow..."  

She leaned a little, back to his ear. Her nose brushed against his lob and he gulped softly at the feeling. Dears.  

"...I wonder how Otabek would answer to such a strong and amazing danse with you, don't you?"

[jetsjanorra]

So About This Norway...

To answer the first question that I get a lot : Yes, I plan on writing about this new season of my life. It will happen right here so save this page somewhere in your notes. Hey, Jette! What will you do in Norway? Are you going to a university over there? For the next 8 months I’ll be attending Discipleship Training School. It’s organised by Youth With A Mission which is a global movement of Christians dedicated to knowing God and making God known. A Discipleship Training School seeks to bring people into a more intimate relationship with God. It also gives you an opportunity to discover your passions and your part in God’s purposes for the world. “It is for those who long to follow Jesus in new ways with a different perspective.” It is not an university and no, I won’t get any college credit for it. It’s a year fully dedicated to root myself in God. Soooo.... What will you be doing? Knocking on people’s doors for 8 months? I’m going to be a part of Impact DTS in Skien, Norway. It lasts for 8 months and consists of a lecture and an outreach phase. The first few months (lecture phase) of the school will be teaching weeks together with “team weeks” where smaller teams will be sent to different cities in Norway. This way we will get to practice what we’ve learned. In a team week we will get to work with local churches and schools with a special emphasis on youth ministry.

The outreach phase is really exciting. Once I’ve been able to soak in all the things that will (hopefully) equip me to serve others we’ll get thrown out of our comfort zones. The first outreach is 2 weeks long (Europe outreach) and will take place somewhere in Europe. The second outreach however will last for 2 months and is to countries outside of Europe.

“We believe that God has called us to give the good news to others, so that what has changed our lives will change theirs.”

Why did you choose this path?

As senior year of high school started, I just knew that I’m probably not going to go to university next year. I needed a break, but also I did not know what I wanted to study, so I didn’t want to waste my time doing (or studying) something I wasn’t passionate about. As I prayed, it hit me - the one true thing I wanted to do was to take a special time just for God. I just longed to be fully rooted in Him and to figure out some stuff about myself as someone who wants to serve and worship Jesus with all I’ve got.

After doing some research and talking to my mother and other dear ones, I realised that nothing else sparks this fire in my heart like youth ministry and missions do. To clarify: I’m not from a Christian background and I’m the first in my family to believe. Estonia has also been labeled as one of the least religious country in the world (and Estonians are often even proud of it). Christians can experience a lot of criticism so it’s not always easy to be one here. I wanted to have deep & steady roots to help me stand strong and still through any trial and storm that might hit my faith.

I’ve been serving in youth ministries for 5 years now. It’s been the greatest time of my life! Being able to be there for the young as they are in a place where life changes entirely almost every year is such a blessing. Seeing them opening up and taking next steps is the sight that brings me great joy. During summers I’ve been a small group leader in English Camps (Josiah Venture) where the kids get an amazing opportunity to hang out with some crazy American missionaries and learn about God. I’ve seen so many lives change and made friends for life. Serving in these camps really opened my eyes to this burning desire I have in my heart to be there for the young and to share the love of my Heavenly Father with them. Youth ministry and missions are deep in my heart. I’m just so excited to see the miracles and the change of hearts that God has planned for this year.

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?”And I said, “Here am I. Send me!” (Isaiah 6:8)

Have you got accommodation and such figured out?

Yes, yes, I have! The good news is that the price includes absolutely everything - food, lectures, outreaches, team weeks stuff & even accommodation! I will be living in an old prison! Don’t worry, it’s truly amazing! I’ll even have roommates which will be something new! When high school taught me how to manage on my own, now I get to learn how to share my life with others. DTS is really built on community.

Aren’t you scared?

I’m just really excited. Most of all I just hope that this experience could be a blessing to others as well. That’s why I decided to write - maybe you’ll find something encouraging or comforting in these lines as I begin and wander through this exciting and life changing journey.

What are my options for being a part of your experience?

If you’d consider adding me to your prayers list - I’d appreciate it more than I could say. I’ll be uploading some requests here as well. If you don’t mind then please do let me know about your prayers and don’t hold back sending me your prayer requests as well.

There’s also the question of money - How did you pay for all this? How much did it cost? I’ve been blessed with the most amazing mother on this planet Earth. She’s my biggest cheerleader even though she’s not a believer and sometimes doesn’t quite understand what this Norway means either. She’s super supportive and has covered all costs. The 55 000 NOK ( that’s 7,052.87USD or 5,946.65EUR) covers absolutely everything which is a great deal! I could not do it without my momma. She’s my angel and my superhero. She’s also providing for my little brother at the same time so it’s no easy task. Please keep her in your prayers as well as this year is not going to be easy financially and emotionally.

Of course you can simply keep an eye on my Facebook, this page here and my Instagram (@jettekas). Don’t be (/become) a stranger. This is exciting and all good things are meant to be shared with others so that the true joy could blossom.  Don’t be scared to contact me. I’m not disappearing anywhere - I’ll just relocate. I do have a Christmas break so we can always make plans to meet up.

I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:3-6)