#jennie lock screens

[19kisoir]

✧ ' 📸 i hope you get to spend lots of time with your loved ones @elwitas ︵ -o-)

[admireforever]

[sparky-is-spiders]

Why tell when I can show?

you can tell a lot about someone based on their phone background. it shows what’s most important to them

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured VI

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader

Summary: Jenni returns to you

Mapi and Ingrid come over a lot now that you don't see Mami. They visit you and Tia Alba all the time and bring you things like new trains and toys and Ingrid even buys you new ballet pumps when you tearfully tell her that you left your ones at Mami's home.

It's different living with Tia Alba. She works from home a lot and she has plenty of time for you. That's a little weird, you think. The attention is nice but it's a little scary.

All of this is a little scary.

Last week, when Abuela came to see you and you asked the bad question, she cried. Abuela cried and cried and you cried too. She said that she would fix this, she promised you that she would fix this but one look at Tia Alba's face told you that no one was sure that this could be fixed.

You wish things were back to normal. You don't want to live with Mami right now but you miss her. You miss the Mami from before, who would take you to the train store after her games and read you fun bedtime stories with all the special voices.

You miss the Mami who would give you little kisses all over your face and call you her most favourite little girl in the whole entire world. You miss the Mami who would let you crawl into bed with her and sit on her knee before a game.

But now, Mami loves Miss Olga and baby Jaume and the train store near Mami's house is shutting down.

There is no Before anymore and you don't think you can get the Before back ever again.

You don't see Mami and you don't want to, even if you really miss her sometimes. Tia Alba looks like Mami and sometimes you can pretend that she is Mami, if you close your eyes and try really hard.

Tia Alba gives you cuddles and kisses and plays trains with you and takes you to your ballet lessons on time. If you try really hard and squeeze your eyes shut nice and tight, you can pretend that it's Mami doing those things and you're in the Before again, when it was just you and her.

"We have a surprise for you," Mapi says as she gets ready to leave," Me and Ingrid. Would you like to see it?"

A surprise makes you scared. Mami told you about baby Jaume as a surprise too.

You look up at Tia Alba and she nods in encouragement so you nod as well.

Ingrid covers your eyes and that makes you nervous too, straining your ears.

You don't want the surprise to be Mami. You really, really don't want it to be Mami.

"How's my favourite little girl in the entire world?"

Ingrid's hands peal away from your eyes and you're already moving.

The arms around you feel nice and safe. You're tucked securely into the neck of a very familiar body. Familiar hands card through your hair and squeeze you with just the right amount of pressure that makes you go all limp and boneless.

You sniffle.

"Jenni?"

"Hi, Bambi," She coos at you. Kisses land on the top of your head.

You don't even notice Mapi and Ingrid leaving, so nice and secure in Jenni's arms.

"I missed you," You whisper.

"I missed you too. I always miss my favourite little girl."

You sniffle again, pulling away. You don't believe her. Mami used to say the same thing. You want to believe Jenni but you don't because you believed Mami once and all she did was lie to you.

"I missed you so, so much. See?" Jenni says. One hand lets go of you to pull out her phone. She turns on her lock screen.

It's a picture of you and her from the last time you saw each other.

You're smiling and Jenni's smiling too and more tears run unchecked down your cheeks.

"I missed you, Jenni," You whimper.

"I missed you too, Bambi. Do you want another cuddle?"

You nod.

You're absolutely tiny compared to her, so tiny and weak and completely broken. Jenni could scarcely believe it when Mapi called out of the blue.

She was in the middle of training but something told her to pick up and she did. The words came out of Mapi's mouth like an avalanche and Jenni didn't believe them.

"Alexia wouldn't neglect Bambi," She'd replied," Don't be stupid, Mapi. Bambi is the greatest thing in her life."

It was only later that Jenni realised that maybe she was projecting. You were the greatest thing in her life and had been since you were born.

You were even smaller than you were now, swaddled in a pale pink blanket Jenni had seen at a store one day and bought randomly. You had fit so beautifully in her arms with your tiny little limbs. You were everything and more and Jenni had felt jealousy stir within her that you were Alexia's.

You were the greatest thing in Jenni's life and she couldn't understand that there was a world where you weren't the greatest thing in Alexia's too.

You still fit so perfectly against her, like when you were younger, even though you're so different to then. You're so different yet completely the same.

Your trains are scattered around Alba's living room floor. You swing your legs when Jenni picks you up and you rest your head against her shoulder until all she can feel are the soft, sleepy puffs of your breath against her neck.

"You didn't have to come," Alba says softly," I don't want you to miss your matches."

"I took time off," Jenni says dismissively as she moves you until you're tucked more securely against her, completely asleep after crying yourself out," Bambi comes first."

"Jenni-"

"I almost adopted her, you know," Jenni cuts her off, blinking her own tears away," When Alexia and I were still together. Everything was nearly finished. I still have the papers. I'd signed everything. I just needed Alexia's signature giving her permission."

It's new information to Alba, clearly, but Jenni had assumed that. It was meant to be a quiet thing, a surprise for you and the rest of the family.

"And then you broke up," Alba replies.

"And then we broke up." Jenni looks down at you. Even in your sleep, you look troubled, your hand tightly making a fist around her shirt like you're afraid that she's going to disappear. "I was still happy to go through with it but I was going to Mexico and Alexia thought it would cause too much stress on Bambi. She was right, of course, but...I can't believe she's done this."

Jenni's still in shock from it all. She'd left for Mexico thinking that you would be loved, that you would be so loved by Alexia and whoever she ended up with, whoever else would adopt you in Jenni's stead. She didn't think anything like this was even possible.

"Have you got a place to stay?"

"There's a hotel-"

"Stay here," Alba says," I've only got one spare room but I don't think Bambi minds sharing. She's been sleeping with me most nights anyway."

If Jenni didn't care as much, she'd try to resist but you feel so soft and small against her that she doesn't care. She doesn't want to get a hotel room across the city. She wants to be right here, with you.

"Thank you, Alba."

"She's got ballet at three. You can take her if you want. Parents can stay in the reception area and watch."

When you wake up from your impromptu nap, it's to the shocking realisation that Jenni is real. She's real and she's holding you, lounging back on the sofa and watching tv. She's holding you and she lays soft kisses on top of your head every so often. She's laying soft kisses on your head and her nails are gently scratching at your back.

"We've got ballet soon," She whispers to you when she notices your staring," Do you feel better?"

You nod, dropping your head back down onto her chest as more kisses rain down on top of you.

"Do you enjoy ballet?" Jenni asks. Her voice is still soft and low and it wraps you up in a nice bubble that feels like the Before.

"Yes." Your voice is as equally quiet and soft.

"More than football?"

The thought of football makes your stomach go wavy. It churns and swirls and your throat closes up. "Mami was upset," You whisper," Because I was not very good when she took me."

A few months before Jaume was born, Mami took you to a team of kids your age. She had watched you with eagle eyes the whole time as the other kids left you in the dust. She hadn't yelled. She hadn't screamed but she had gone quiet.

You'd asked her what was wrong when she was driving home, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tight her knuckles went white.

"Nothing is wrong," She'd said to you," I'm just disappointed."

She'd taken you back a few more times but every time it was the same. Every day ended with 'I'm just disappointed'.

It was Abuela that told Mami to put you into ballet, spending weeks convincing her that you not playing football wasn't the end of the world.

You're scared Jenni is going to be the same so you scrunch your eyes up tight and wait for this familiar words.

"Do you really like ballet?" Jenni asks instead.

You wonder if this is a trick. You don't know what you're supposed to say so you settle on the truth. Tia Alba always tells you that you can't get in trouble for saying the truth.

"I think I like it more than I like my trains," You murmur and Jenni lands a kiss on your head.

"Well, you've got ballet in a bit," Jenni says," Is it okay if I come to watch?"

"Please, Jenni."

The ballet studio wasn't too far from Alba's house, a walkable distance between it and Alexia's.

You seemed to get more and more excited the closer you got until you were practically vibrating as Jenni swapped your trainers for your ballet pumps, twisting your hair back into a bun for you.

There's a space of parents to sit and wait, able to peer in on the session through the glass doors.

"I haven't seen you here before," One of the mothers say," Usually, Alexia drops her off and leaves. It's nice that someone is staying."

"I'm Jenni."

"y/n's other mother then? It's nice to meet you."

Jenni knows that she should correct this woman. You're not hers. You're Alexia's. But...she doesn't. She doesn't correct her because, just this once, she wants to live this fantasy where you're hers and you're happy.

"You too," Jenni says, neither confirming or denying this woman's assumption.

Her eyes don't stray from you, not even for a second. You're more animated than Jenni thinks you've been in a while. You're smiling and you're moving and that lingering air of sadness is almost completely gone.

Jenni could pretend that you were happy if it weren't for the fact that you keep glancing out the door, looking genuinely surprised that she's there every time you make eye contact.

"It's so nice that she has someone to support her," The mum from earlier continues," It's such a shame that Alexia never stays to watch. She's so talented."

Jenni's eyes stray to the door, a bolt of lightning shooting down her spine when she notices a very familiar women trying to peer through the reception doors.

"Excuse me." Jenni dismisses herself. She grabs the woman's arm as soon as she's out the door. "You've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here. I heard Eli banned you from seeing her."

There's a fire in Alexia's eyes that tells Jenni all she needs to know. This wasn't a coincidence.

"How can I make amends if none of you let me see her? What are you even doing here, huh? Last I checked, you live in Mexico."

"And last I checked you were a good mother!"

Jenni balls her hands up into fists to stop herself from lashing out. She pushes away from Alexia, taking a few deep breaths away.

"Just...go away, Alexia."

"No!" Alexia looks half to tears. "No, I won't! That's my baby in there! I just want to see if she's okay!"

"She's going to be okay! But you need to leave her alone!"

"I'm her mother! I shouldn't have to leave her alone! She's mine!"

Jenni sighs, turning her back to her ex. "Go, Ale."

"Jenni...Jenni, please. That's my baby."

Jenni ignores her, shoving the door open and letting it swing shut right in Alexia's face.

"Coparenting issues?" The mother from earlier asks. She tuts. "I remember those days. It'll get better."

Jenni makes a noise of acknowledgement and focuses back on you.

When you come out nearly an hour later, you're so excited, grabbing Jenni's hand and pulling her all the way over to your dance teacher.

"You're not Alexia," The woman says.

"Jenni. Jenni Hermoso. I'm y/n's-"

She has to stop herself. She's not sure what to say. She's not your mother. She's not your step-mother. She's the woman that could have adopted you, once upon a time.

"I'm Jenni," She settles on.

"Well, Jenni, if you could pass this along to Alexia? I run another class on Thursdays for the more..." She glances around, lowering her voice. "Advanced students. I really think your y/n would fit right in."

She hands Jenni a permission slip and information pack and Jenni just nods dumbly, one hand holding yours and the other this stack of papers.

"Er...yeah," She says," I'll get it to her."

The teacher smiles and bids you goodbye as the older children flood into her studio.

"Advanced, huh?" Jenni says, beaming at you as she hoists you up onto her hip.

You don't make eye contact. "Is that okay? Mami says sometimes that dance is hard to fit in with her schedule."

"I'm not Mami," Jenni says, her eyes flicking to where Alexia is standing in the car park, just watching," It fits perfectly into my schedule."

Alexia looks pathetic, Jenni thinks. She looks small and curled in on herself, nothing like the strong Barcelona captain she knows Alexia is. She looks exhausted too, more exhausted than someone with just a simple newborn.

It's eating her up inside, Jenni knows this but she can find no sympathy in her for the woman she once dreamed of parenting you with.

She dug her grave. Now she must lie in it.

But Jenni's certain that she's not going to let Alexia bury you too.

"That's Mami." Your smile drops from your face and your shoulders slump when you notice Alexia.

"It is," Jenni confirms, standing in the middle of the pavement.

She doesn't want Alexia to see you but she doesn't want you to stop seeing Alexia if you want to see her.

"Is she here to take me away?" Your voice wobbles and you look over at your Mami from under your lashes.

"I think she's just here to see how your lesson went."

"She got me a train and another present," You whisper," I haven't opened them. Will she be angry at me?"

"No, Bambi," Jenni says and her next words taste like ash in her mouth," Your Mami loves you too much to be angry at you."

"And she won't take me from you?"

"No one is going to take you from me."

You bite at your lip and Jenni hates the uncertainty in your eyes. "Can...Can we see Mami?"

"If you want."

"Please, Jenni."

Her steps are careful and measured and Alexia stands up straight when she notices you both coming. She wipes her hands on her shirt and straightens out her clothes.

Jenni places you on the ground and Alexia kneels, her arms open for you.

You shy away, ducking behind Jenni's legs and peaking out.

Alexia feels like crying as she drops her arms. "Hola, Bambi," She says, trying to control the wobble in her voice," How was dance?"

"Good," You say," I...My teacher says I can move up. She gave Jenni papers."

Alexia frowns, her eyes flicking up to Jenni. "That's nice."

Jenni holds the papers out to her. "It's a permission slip and information pack," She says," For the advanced class. Bambi is very good at ballet."

Alexia flashes you a smile. "That's good, isn't it, Bambi? You're very good at ballet, huh?"

Your head bobs up and down. "My teacher thinks so."

"I'm very proud of you."

The look of shock on your face is heartbreaking, like you can't quite believe she's saying those words to you.

"Really?" Tears glisten in your eyes and Alexia hates herself for what she's done. You never used to be so uncertain around her.

Her throat closes up and she has to push past the lump to speak again. "So, so proud of you, Bambi. I'm glad you're doing so well at ballet. Maybe I can come and watch soon."

It's clear in that moment that Alexia has maybe pushed too far. The wounds of your neglect are still too raw for you, still open and weeping blood.

You recoil again and squeeze Jenni's hand.

"I have Jenni," You say," She watches me dance."

The look on Alexia's face is heartbroken and finally, Jenni feels the smallest bit of pity.

"Maybe not soon," She says, a hand stroking down the flyaways from your bun," Maybe one day."

"Maybe one day," You repeat softly and Alexia gives you a watery kind of smile in response.

"Maybe one day," She confirms. She stands properly again, looking at the papers in her hand. "I'll...I'll get these back to you signed off soon."

Jenni nods. "I'll talk to your mother. Supervised visits might not be out of the question."

"Thank you."

Jenni picks you up again as Alexia gets into her car. You don't leave her arms all the way back to Alba's place.

Jenni wasn't your mother. There was a chance, a long time ago, that she could have been but Alexia never signed on the dotted line, a line drawn in the sand that's now a gaping chasm.

Jenni isn't your mother but that doesn't mean she doesn't wish she was.

[zeezelweazel]

I would love it if you started writing for Chloe kelly

Chloe Kelly| Lost in euphoria|

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My girl is having such a great season, hope we can win the league cuz Chelsea needs to be humbled. Anyway I'm still not over that world cup final so have this.

First Chloe fic let's goo

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You can't sleep. Of course you can't, the world cup final is tomorrow. You bled sweat and tears to get to this point. With your captain and best player in the world barely back in shape and the federation being full of sexist assholes you feel like you've fought a war to reach the final.

Nerves are normal before matches like this one. The winner takes it all and you have to make sure that you are the winner. You've learnt how to live with it and get over it so you can give it your all on the pitch. This time though it's different, because you're playing England in the final.

You dread the moment you have to step on the pitch. They want this as much as you and they need this as much as you. How will you be able to play against your girlfriend in such a game? Sure, you play eachother often enough, in the league and even the cup sometimes and you're definitely used to the rivalry given how she plays for manchester city and you for united but this is different. This is a world cup final. An entire nation depends on you.

Just as you're about to turn around and try to sleep your phone lights up with a notification. You look at the screen to see a message.

Baby blue 💙

Hey

I can't sleep

You smile when you see Chloe's text, immediately forgetting about the match tomorrow. You grab your phone and text her back immediately. You probably should be getting some sleep before such an important game but it's not like you'd do anything but roll around in bed all night. Plus talking to Chloe always helps you relax, right now it also helps you forget the fact that tomorrow she'd be your biggest rival.

|•••••|

No words can describe the feeling of playing in a wolrd cup final. The atmosphere is electric, your whole body pumbed with adrenaline and nerves that only got worse when the whistle blew. You were equal parts relieved and upset that Chloe wasn't on the starting line up. She deserves to be on the starting eleven, you know this but you can't help but feel relieved that you can prolong playing against her.

The first half is obviously in your favour. England's attacks are disjointed and messy, most of them not leading to anything good. You and Ona didn't let anything get through, closing down every English attack. The forwards are doing their job successfully, as expected with Aitana bossing the midfield and pulling the strings. Sure enough after a stady and good performance Olga manages to open the scoreline with a good shot.

Your first instinct is to turn to Irene and hug her tightly before running to meet the rest of the girls up ahead and join in the celebrations.

After the half time whistle blew you were very eager to finally get the chance to catch your breath. You blocked the annoying drill of Vilda's voice and instead focused on keeping your head clear and your mind set on the target. You know England wasn't going to give up easily.

A few moments later Jenni places a hand on your shoulder and shakes you out of your thoughts. The second half was about to start, but when you get up from the bench and move to the pitch you see Chloe doing the same. Of course she'd be subbed in on the second half, England needed to get better on the final third and your girlfriend was the perfect choice alongside Lauren James.

You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the awful feelings that tried to crawl up your chest. You thought you were used to playing against her but this is different. This is the world cup.

Right before the whistle blows you try and catch her eyes but Chloe's gaze is firmly locked on the ball. You gulp down any last remnants of nervousness and focus.

Chloe and Lauren change the game immediately and England's attacks start gaining momentum but with how well you and the rest of the Spanish defence are playing said momentum is quickly crumbling.

The clock is ticking and even though Jenni missed a penalty England is getting desperate for an equaliser. They've come close a couple times but still nothing and now with the final minutes of extra time it looks like it's over. But of course, life is never that easy.

Two minutes of extra time remain when a fatal mistake is made. England steals the ball in your half of the pitch and with Ona out of position there's a huge open space. The ball is thrown ahead by James and within a second Chloe is on it with you chasing behind. The crowd is already starting to go wild for something that looks to be a certain goal. Chloe is closing in on goal but just as she's about to lift her foot to take the shot you slide on the pitch and manage to knock the ball off her feet in a clean tackle that has half the crowd gasping and groaning in defeat and the other half cheering and clapping wildly. Chloe gets up and goes for the ball immediately, the blonde not one to give up until she hears the whistle but you're on her once more and you cut off her desperate attempt at a last minute cross to the Spanish box.

Once the ball goes out of play the ref blows the whistle and it's all over.

The crowd erupts in a loud roar, players and fans alike jumping in happiness or slumping in defeat. Before you can react half of the team is swarming you, patting your back and kissing your cheeks and ruffling your hair. Alexia pulls you in a tight embrace and you can't help but return it with teary eyes.

"You saved us Y/N. You won us the world cup."

You release a watery laugh and shake your head at your captain.

"No Ale, it was all of us. We did this."

It takes a while for all the girls to spread on the field but when they do your eyes instinctively scan the field for a familiar blonde ponytail.

You see Chloe sitting on the side of the pitch, seemingly not having moved since the final whistle. Lauren Hemp is by her side rubbing a hand down Chloe's back. She notices your approach and leaves the two of you alone. You sit down beside her and for a while neither of you talk. The atmosphere is tense and you feel like if you don't say something soon you'll lose your mind.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry."

You both look at eachother before you burst out in a short fit of light giggles. When you stop laughing your smile falls slightly at the sight of Chloe's puffy eyes and you softly wipe some stray tears from her cheeks.

"I ruined it for you, I'm so sorry I-"

Chloe looked at you with surprise evident on her face. She shook her head and took one of your hands holding it tightly.

"You did what any great degender would've done. That was like, the best tackle I've seen."

You laugh and lean closer to her. You knew that your girlfriend wouldn't be upset about what happened but part of you feels guilty that you stripped her of that moment. A moment of silce washes over the both of you as Chloe plays with you hands.

"We failed."

Her words were soft and defeated, so different from her usual loud and confident attitude, that it tugged on your heart strings painfully. You placed your hand on her face and softly urged her to look up to you.

"You didn't fail Chloe. You finished second in the world cup. I understand how painful it is to get so close to a trophy just to lose it on the last minute but failing is not even making it past the group stage or getting eliminated in the round of 16. You did amazing, I'm so proud of you."

Your insides feel warm when a big grin breaks it's way into Chloe's face.

"God, I wish I could kiss you right now."

You laugh and nod in agreement but there's no rush. You'll have all the time in the world to spent on celebrating your win with your girlfriend. Your little bubble pops when you notice Alexia beckoning you to get up. You guess it's time for the ceremony. You turn to Chloe one last time and smile. She pats your cheek and gets up before helping you rise off the pitch as well.

"Come on world champion, you have a trophy to lift."

___________________________________________

[isaut]

𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓— f!reader x chrollo lucilfer. 2.5 k, refurbished. original: ao3

synopsis: during a simple heist job two years ago, chrollo offered you a cigarette outside the library. it isn’t his fault he fell in love with you, is it? I finally felt it was time to give this fic a face lift. I’ve changed a lot since I started her, and it only felt right. If this gets a sign off from tumblr.com I’ll change the ao3 version

The skyline of Sirap is stunning, with the silhouetted buildings twinkling with lights, a hum bubbling from the streets and from the blimps in the sky. It’s a place that Chrollo has found solace in, has even made a home and a routine for himself in the past few years. He’s overstayed his welcome, set by his own nature. It’s been years since he’s fallen back into his mysterious, nomadic ways.  

Sitting in his study, Chrollo’s gaze is not on the skyline. He is not taking in the movements below him, taking up an old pastime of watching as people scurry by and wondering where they are going. Instead, his gaze is fixated on his computer, the blue light of the screen singing his eyes, drying them out. The pen in his hand clicks steadily against the stained oak of his desk. 

The steady click click click of the pen does little to soothe the worries that have begun to stir in his stomach. The unsettling feeling on his soul as he reads the message before him.

It’s an email. From his bank. A simple request for 10 000 000 jenny. With a simple message attached. 

I took care of the man who requested I eliminate your lover. I’ve forwarded his balance to you. You should receive a file from me shortly with details. Congratulations on your relationship. 

In a brief fit of rage that is quite unbecoming of the man he wishes to present himself as, Chrollo slams his hand against his desk before lending back in his chair, stewing over the message. He tears his eyes away from the message, looking instead out the large windows before him. He takes a deep breath of the not fresh air, and it does little to calm his emotions. 

As he watches a blimp float by in the sky, red light blinking against the darkness of the night, Chrollo can’t help but feel silly at how emotional he’s being. He can’t help but remember how he used to feel so indifferent, how everything felt stale. 

Stale like the air around him. 

With little reluctance, Chrollo sends the money over to his somewhat of an ally, Illumi. Their relationship was little more than constant transactions. He stands, stretches his arms above his head. Calling himself a banker had its pros: boring enough no one asked about it. It also had its cons: sometimes sitting in front of a computer for too long, researching his next thrill instead of boring into an excel spreadsheet. 

Chrollo thinks that, at the end of the day, death suits him. Even if he’s falsely climbed into the carriage. Even if his back aches from time to time. He briefly considers doing a few of the stretches his lover had recommended. His lover who had gotten him in the mess. The one where he carefully removes bricks from the walls around him and lays new bricks as he lies to cover up his reality. His lover who was still probably perched in the living room, waiting for him to come out of his office.  

The idea of you patiently waiting on the couch fills Chrollo with an uncomfortable guilt. He scrolls through his phone, looking for a text chain. He can’t find it, and resorts to drafting a new text in a small group message of just himself, Shalnark and Machi. If he took time to be truthful with himself, it felt odd texting the two of them. Even a year later, there’s an uncomfortable void, two of them in fact, of accumulated grief that press against his soul. He can’t shake it, nor can he steep in it. 

We need to have a meeting. In the next few months. 

Not ready to linger in those feelings, Chrollo locks his phone. Perhaps he’d mellow in those thoughts of the all consuming grief tonight, with your head resting on his chest as sleep washes over you. His gaze returns to the skyline. It’s dark out, it must be well past dinnertime. 

Chrollo shuts down his computer with the forceful, long press of a button. Shalnark, who set up the device for him, is berating him for not using softer methods. Chrollo pockets his phone, eager to deposit it somewhere and forget about it until morning. The journey from his office to the living room isn’t a long one, and it’s one he can chart by the way you’ve dappled yourself along the path. 

Gentle music flows from the living room, playing on the speakers that were brought from your apartment when you moved in. There’s a sweatshirt of yours on the ground that he picks up without much thought. He deposits it on the back of the couch, upon arriving to a deserted living room. 

It’s not deserted. There’s a blanket that looks like it used to be wrapped around you, slumped in the corner of the couch. There’s a stack of essays on the middle cushion, and a pen set upon them. Half a glass of wine sits on the coffee table, and beside it is your iPad, unlocked. 

Satisfaction brings the cat back. Chrollo leans over the iPad, investigating what you had been doing. He takes it upon himself to close the online shopping tab after seeing the total in the cart. 

Rounding the corner, you hold a mug of tea in your hands. The brightness of the lemongrass tea fills the air, and you take a deep breath, both of the tea and of the sight of your boyfriend. Both senses wake you up. 

Chrollo picks up the blanket, and sits in its place, throwing it over the armrest. He picks up the essay you had been in the middle of grading and flips it to the cover page. It’s thick, at least ten pages. A Turn About the Room: How Women Have Always Been the Secluded Ones. 

“Done working?” You ask him. 

Chrollo rests his arm along the backside of the couch to take you in. One of his shirts peeks out from below an oversized sweater of yours. Glasses perched atop your nose. He holds his hand out to you, palm up. 

“You should be too.”  

“I see how it is,” You say, coming over to his open hand. Your hand is still warm from holding the mug, and you slide your palm easily against Chrollo’s. 

Only, the man before you isn’t Chrollo, no, there is no mass murderer before you. No grandiose thief. He’s just Kuroro, a man with a penchant for reading and a sadness behind his eyes that’s curtained by charisma and a modern day definition of chivalry. 

A man who’s raising his other hand to take the mug from your own  hands, the heat barely bothering him. His fingers twine with yours, and he brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon it. 

“Do you?” 

You nod, leaning over the back of the couch and into his personal space and pressing a kiss against his cheek. He smells warm, of mellow, musky notes that you’ve come to associate when you think of him. Home smells like Kuroro, it smells like the cologne he wears and the aftershave in the morning, curling with a warm drink and incense in the air. 

It’s time to stop working for the day. 

Rounding the couch, you take a seat right beside Kuroro. Truly, you’re more so on top of him with the way your knee hinges over his thigh. Neither of you care. Not when you’re so close, not when the world seems to just be the two of you. 

Kuroro returns your mug to you, his now warmed hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“How’s work going?” You ask, blowing on your tea before taking a tentative sip. 

Kuroro hums at your question, resting his hand on your thigh. He rubs his hand over the smooth, plush skin. He ponders over how to answer, how to toe the line between being honest and being deceitful. It’s all for your safety after all. And here he has been, thinking he’d been doing a good job of maintaining your blissful ignorance to the world he hid in. 

“Stressful,” Kuroro admits, taking a deep breath before raising his gaze. 

“Mon pauvre,” You murmur, “Want some tea?” 

Pressing his brows together, Kuroro nods. You watch with infatuated eyes as he does just as you had earlier: blow on the warm drink, letting the steam lick up his face before taking a small sip. 

“Want to go get dinner?” You pose. “I haven’t eaten yet… We could go to the sushi place down the block.” 

The news Kuroro had received minutes earlier rings in his head. Bounces from ear to ear, unable to be ignored. He thinks of the mom and pop restaurant that had infatuated the two of you, of the kind couple who ran it. Of the grandma who greeted you everytime you came in. Who cooed over how cute of a couple you made. 

He thinks of an assassination attempt on either one of you. Of the chaos it would cause, of the rubble and the debris. He can envision your scared expression. The dead bodies of the kind family he’d come to know so well. 

It tugs at his heartstrings in a way he had believed was long since dead. Perhaps you had made him too soft. Too human. He felt the youth coursing through his soul again. 

With reluctance, Kuroro shakes his head. “I’ll make us something. Then you don’t have to get dressed.” 

“You’re so considerate,” You say with a smile. “What are we having?” 

“I have to check the fridge,” Kuroro replies. “Want to join me in the kitchen?” 

Of course you do. You’d altered your 10 year plan to accommodate the man. You’d follow him anywhere. 

Kuroro is, in his nature, secretive. It has always carried a certain charm with it: adds to the allure of his dark hair, his well-read nature and clean dress. However, you’ve picked up on a few tells he carries around with him. For instance, when he’s set on surprising you there’s a boyish glint in his brown eyes. When he’s morose in thoughts of life, both his own and philosophical, he’s oddly talkative. Always eager to find solace with his head on your chest or in your lap. And when he’s had a bad day at work, he’s quiet. 

You don’t like when he’s quiet. It’s not that you feel the need to fill silence with Kuroro. In fact, normally it’s quite the opposite. Silence is comfortable. 

The silence that hangs in the kitchen is not the comforting closeness you’ve grown to love. 

As Kuroro investigates the fridge for something to eat, you take it upon yourself to put on some music in the background. Amy Winehouse’s voice seeps through the silence. 

“Do you want tteokbokki?” Kuroro asks, holding a bag of rice cakes in his hand. His other rests on the refrigerator door. 

You come to stand beside him, peering into the fridge. It’s barren. Only a few condiments and pickled vegetables litter the shelves. You feel an emptiness in your stomach. Did you eat lunch? 

“Sure,” You say, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “Do you want some help?” 

“Just your company,” Kuroro responds smoothly, closing the door and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. The base notes of his cologne still cling to his skin. There’s cedar and vanilla. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, releasing you slowly. 

The gesture has your heart skipping a beat. You feel your face warm, feel as Kuroro’s hand slides along your shoulders. 

It makes Kuroro smile slightly, watching your reaction come over. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then opens the refrigerator open again. 

“Go sit. I’ll get you some more wine.” 

You wet your lips as you take your place on the kitchen island. Kuroro sets the chilled white wine bottle in front of you, then busies himself in the kitchen, combining spices and sauces together and simmering them over low heat. 

To keep his mind off whatever was bothering him, you launch into telling him about the essays you’ve been grading— Final papers for your class on women’s oppression in literature. You teach it every other year in the spring, and this conversation is reminiscent of one you had when you first met Kuroro. 

This one is about Rokeya’s Sultana’s Dream and Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It’s a fresh take on Austen’s work, and you’re glad to see Rokeya being cited. There are a few inconsistencies in the line of reasoning, but the student is a year too young to technically take the course. She reminds you of yourself, if you’re being completely honest— Ambitious, if not a little scatterbrained. 

Kuroro turns off the stove and sets the pot atop a woven potholder in front of you. He adds side bowls and chopsticks to the spread. 

“I’d love to take a peek,” He says, getting himself a wine glass to join in with your drinking. 

“You can. Want to see it now?” 

Kuroro shakes his head and sits next to you. “You know I’ll get sauce all over it.” 

Shrugging, you pick up your chopsticks. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spilt on an essay. “Thanks for cooking tonight.” 

“Careful, it’s hot,” Kuroro says as his you’re welcome. 

Even with his stomach pleasantly full, the overhead fan humming, and you pressed up against his side, sleep evades Chrollo. He tilts his head to the side, his hair fanned out on the too soft pillow. All pillows are too soft to him, anyways. He cushions his head for your comfort. 

Sleep’s tireless evasion from Chrollo is not one that he’s a stranger to. He often finds himself in this same position, surrounded by newfound comforts, his heart thrumming softly, his eyes on the twinkling lights of Sirap. Absentmindedly, he rubs his hand up and down your side, taking solace in the way your stomach moves with every deep breath you take. 

When you don’t drink before bed, you’re quick to rouse at his gentle petting. Sometimes, you wake at even the slightest shift. Groggily blinking away and rubbing your eyes, trying to see what’s wrong in the pitch black room. 

Not tonight. Tonight, you’re full and there’s wine in your brain. And Chrollo is alone with his thoughts. 

He turns his head to look at you. Cranes his neck to place a kiss to the top of your head without jostling you. 

There’s a grief on his soul tonight, and it’s not own he’s used to. Albeit accustomed to loss, Chrollo’s heart can’t fathom experiencing the gravity of loss again. To be responsible for someone’s death who was so innocent, who had nothing to do with the circumstances he put her in. 

So he places another kiss to your forehead, and shifts himself to wrap both of his arms around you. Invites your legs to tangle against his. He closes his eyes, and despite wishing for sleep it continues to evade him. So he takes deep breaths of you: shampoo, bodywash, oils and lotions. He lays in the dark, simply waiting. 

[tzuyusluv]

❥ Soft Things Blackpink Does

Jisoo

• her spoiling her solo before anyone else even knew about it because ‘you’re her biggest supporter so you deserve to be the first’

• Her taking you onto the sets of music videos because and showing you the dance moves that she performs

Jennie

• Wearing matching Chanel outfits

• Has never once rolled her eyes at you saying that it’s saved for ‘people who really deserve it’ and ‘you’re one of the people I love, why would you deserve it’

Rosé

• Calling you a special nickname that no one else can call you otherwise she’ll give them a glare

• Having matching home and lock screens that when you place your phones next to the other, it lines up to a cute picture of you two together with hank

Lisa

• Calls you her love so that way you also have a nickname that’s start with L so you’re matching with her and her pets

• Her being strict with everyone except you. She lets you get away with so much just because she loves you

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

A/N 2 - Him in this outfit is MMM

five - make him hurt, make me bleed

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. “Evening, sir, can I help you?”

“Yeah, thanks, man.” The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. “I’m, uh, I’m lookin’ for my son. His name’s Tom Holden. Have you seen him?”

“He went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.” Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the man’s character. “Why, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, y’know.”

“Oh, that’d be great.” He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. “Just tell him his old man’s in town, yeah?” 

“Does his old man have a name?” Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.

“Oh! Oh, yeah.” The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. “Harry. Harry Holden.”

NOW:

“Alright, you know what to do.” I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. “We’re moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.” She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. “Good work, sweetheart. You’re a natural, just like your mom.” We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. “Hang tight, gun’s in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passenger’s door, ok?”

“Got it, auntie.” She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.

“Sunflower, I’m plannin’ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?” Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didn’t know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. “Oh! Thanks. Silly me.”

“Issy?” I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw… Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. “It is you, oh, I knew it!” There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.

“Harry.” I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with… Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. “And Tom’s… your son?”

“You know my boy?” Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “Well, my darling-” He held Rhea’s hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, “and I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?”

“You’re Tom’s old friend, right?” The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. “Rhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neé Summers, it’s hard to compute.”

I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. “Elle Joyner.”

“Three’s a crowd, but four’s a party.” I heard a familiar Texas accent behind me, and I instantly knew it was Beau, and he laid a protective hand on my shoulder. Harry’s eyebrow twitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he glanced between Beau and I. “Who’s this, sweetheart?” He knew exactly who this was, so it confused me a little.

“Harry Holden.” Harry introduced, putting out his hand for Beau to shake, seemingly bothered and slightly intimidated since the man was taller than him. “I’m, uh, Elle’s old friend.” Beau’s eyebrow quirked, instantly clocking that Harry was lying. But he shook the latter’s hand anyway, adopting a smile.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen.” He introduced, putting unnecessary emphasis on the first word of the sentence. He then put his hand on my hip, drawing me closer in a manner that was almost possessive. “I’m Belle’s boyfriend.” Oh. Oh, we’re doing that. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, then decided to play along, kissing Beau’s cheek (albeit I had to stand en pointe, and I am NO ballet dancer). I saw a tinge of red flood his cheeks, but he affectionately rubbed my side with a chuckle.

“Your boyfriend.” Harry repeated quietly before clearing his throat and raising his voice slightly. “Well, Olivia will be seeing Tom tonight, won’t she? I’ll drop her off, if that’s ok.”

“Mhmm, yeah, it’s ok. I’ll, uh, see you tonight.” I nodded, swallowing as Beau’s grip felt more prominent on my hip, as if he tightened it slightly. When Harry, Rhea and Tom trotted off like the happy family I seldom had but wanted, I turned to Beau with an apologetic look. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.” He smirked, kissing my cheek in what I assumed was revenge, because my ears went red, my eyes widening slightly as I swallowed on a dry throat.

So… more of an attempt.

In the dimly lit basement of an abandoned warehouse, Cal Joyner found himself bound to a rusty chair, the metallic restraints digging into his flesh, adding to the weight of fear and desperation already bearing down on him. The flickering bulb overhead cast erratic shadows that danced across the grimy walls, framing his captors—members of a notorious crime syndicate—as they loomed over him with a menacing presence.

Remy, a burly man with a scarred face and eyes as cold as steel, stepped forward and snarled, "You think we're playing games here, Cal? We want Lucy's phone, and we want it now."

Cal's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. His pulse raced, and his throat felt dry. "I already told you, I don't have it!" he protested, his voice strained with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't know where it is."

Beside Remy, another thug with a menacing smirk etched into his features cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you need a little more convincing," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.

Cal's thoughts flashed back to that haunting night six years ago when Lucy, his beloved daughter, was taken from him. The pain was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. The memory of her murder lingered like a relentless specter, its grip tightening with each passing moment. And now, these men were threatening his only remaining daughter.

"You touch Elle," Cal spat, his eyes burning with defiance, "and I swear—"

The thug cut him off with a menacing laugh. "Oh, we will touch her, Cal. Unless you start being honest with us."

Cal's jaw clenched, his mind racing through a fog of fear and desperation. He was backed into a corner, and lying was second nature to him, even in this dire circumstance. "I already told you, Lucy's phone is gone. Destroyed."

Remy's patience wore thin. He seized Cal by the collar, his grip like iron. "Listen, you scum. We know you're lying. Lucy kept everything on that phone���information that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum o’ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."

Cal's eyes flickered towards the door, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But the goon's grip tightened, yanking him back into the harsh reality of his predicament.

"Last chance, Cal," Remy growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Where. Is. The. Phone?"

In that tense moment, Cal's mind raced. He thought of his daughter, of the desperate need to protect her as she tried to protect him. He had to buy time, he had to think. "I don’t know!" he blurted out, his voice trembling. "I… don’t know."

The thug exchanged a skeptical glance with Remy before nodding. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you don't come up with answers, we'll bring Elle here."

As the syndicate members filed out of the room, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts, he sagged against the chair, his heart heavy with dread. The cold sweat that had formed on his brow trickled down his temple, and his hands shook uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the tumultuous storm raging within him. The memories of Lucy flooded back—her bright smile, her laughter, her dreams shattered by a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't let the same fate befall his only remaining daughter. He had to find a way out of this, but the odds seemed insurmountable.

Hours passed in agonizing silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside—a world oblivious to the terror festering in this forsaken basement. Cal's mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and fears, each turn leading him deeper into despair.

When the basement door creaked open once more, Cal's heart skipped a beat. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit space as Remy and his men returned, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the grimy walls. The flickering bulb overhead bathed them in an eerie light, rendering their expressions unreadable beneath the dance of light and shadow.

Remy's gaze bore into Cal like steel. "Well, Cal, any revelations?" His voice was low and commanding, cutting through the tense silence that enveloped the basement.

Cal's throat felt dry as he searched desperately for words, any words that could appease these dangerous men. His mind raced, grappling with fear and uncertainty. "I've been trying to remember," he stammered, his voice hoarse with anxiety. "But it's all a blur. Please, just give me more time."

The thug standing beside Remy snorted dismissively. "Time's up, old man. We're not in the business of waiting."

Remy's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin like fraying rope. "You're testing our goodwill, Cal. That's dangerous territory."

Cal's pulse quickened as he felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him. He knew he was running out of options, but the thought of Elle's safety propelled him forward, a flicker of determination igniting within the depths of his despair.

And then, as if a spark of inspiration had ignited in the darkness, Cal's gaze fell upon the shadows creeping along the walls—the same shadows that had become his silent allies in this harrowing ordeal.

"I remember something," Cal began, his voice steadier now, laced with a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing fear. "It's a long shot, but... Lucy used to talk about a storage unit she kept for sentimental stuff. Maybe the phone is there."

Remy's eyes narrowed further, skepticism etched into every line of his scarred face. "Don't play games with us, Cal."

"I'm not," Cal insisted, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips. "I'll take you there. Just... spare Elle."

The thug exchanged a meaningful glance with Remy, their silent communication speaking volumes of the danger that lingered in the air. After a tense moment of deliberation, Remy finally nodded, a glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his eyes.

"Fine, Cal," Remy relented, his voice tinged with caution. "You've got one chance. Lead the way."

Relief flooded through Cal like a rushing tide, though he masked it behind a façade of determination. He knew he was treading on thin ice, balancing on a knife's edge between deception and survival. But for his youngest’s sake, he would navigate this treacherous path with unwavering resolve.

As they unbound him from the rusty chair, Cal's limbs felt heavy with both exhaustion and renewed purpose. He rose to his feet, the cold basement air biting against his skin as he prepared to embark on this perilous journey.

Together, they ascended from the depths of the basement, stepping out into the frigid embrace of the night. The distant sounds of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the weight of their shared secrets and impending dangers.

Cal led the way through narrow alleyways, empty highways and deserted streets for hours that felt like days, his mind racing with the urgency of their mission. Each step forward carried the weight of uncertainty, a delicate dance between deceit and salvation.

The storage unit Lucy had mentioned existed on the outskirts of town—a forgotten corner obscured by neglect and urban decay. As they approached the weathered metal door, Cal's heart hammered against his chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope.

He fumbled with the lock, the metallic clink resonating in the silence of the night. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior cluttered with dusty boxes and forgotten relics.

Remy and his men followed closely behind, their wary eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of deception. Cal's gaze swept over the disarray, his memories of Lucy flooding back with a poignant ache.

"She kept it somewhere here," Cal murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved cautiously through the labyrinth of forgotten treasures, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He searched desperately, found object after object, but no phone. He knew that the game was up, that his lies had only gotten so far. “I swear, it’s here-” He collapsed in a crumpled, lifeless heap as a gunshot rang out through the hollow space, smoke pluming from Remy’s gun as he blew it off.

“My patience wore thin.” Remy’s sighed, storing the gun back in its holster. He turned to the rest of his team, nodding resignedly. “You lot know what to do.”

Markham poured himself a glass of wine, trying to settle his nerves as he set the table for dinner. Olivia was visiting for the weekend, as she did when no one was at home, per the arrangement with her aunt. Markham’s relationship with Olivia was polite but distant, a delicate balance between the roles of stepfather and guardian. He often struggled to connect with her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.

When Olivia entered the dining room, her eyes brightened at the sight of the beautifully set table. “Wow, this looks amazing, Mark,” she said with a warm smile, taking her seat.

Mark nodded, attempting a smile in return. “Thank you, Olivia. I’m glad you’re here.” He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

Olivia glanced up from her plate, her expression softening. “I’ve been good, thank you,” she replied politely. “School’s going well. Aunt Isa says hi, by the way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment at the mention of Olivia’s aunt. “Listen, Liv, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Olivia looked up curiously, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. “Sure, what is it?”

Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time for a change. I know you’ve been living with your aunt for a while now, but I’d like you to consider staying with me permanently.”

Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise, and then her brow furrowed slightly. “Oh,” she said softly, setting her fork down. “I… I appreciate that, Mark, but I really like living with Aunt Isa. She’s been taking care of me for so long, and I feel comfortable there.”

“I understand,” Mark replied, trying to keep his tone even. “But I think it would be good for us to spend more time together, to get to know each other better.”

Olivia fidgeted with her napkin, a troubled look crossing her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, Mark. You’re nice to me and everything. It’s just… Aunt Isa has always been there for me. She’s like a second mom.”

Mark’s heart sank a little at Olivia’s words. He had hoped that she would see him as more than just a distant figure in her life. “I see,” he said quietly, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. “Well, I want you to be happy, Olivia. That’s the most important thing.”

Olivia nodded, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mark said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I just want what’s best for you.”

The rest of the dinner passed in strained conversation, both Mark and Olivia making an effort to keep things light. As they finished their meal, Mark cleared his throat again, summoning the courage to address the inevitable.

“Well, Olivia,” he began, “it’s getting late. I should take you back to your aunt’s place.”

Olivia nodded, pushing her plate aside. “Okay,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

Mark stood up and walked around the table to where Olivia was sitting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. “Thank you for coming over, Olivia. I always enjoy having you here.”

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I can’t… you know…”

Mark smiled sadly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “It’s alright, Olivia. Maybe one day things will be different.”

Olivia nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Mark fetched his keys and jacket, and together they made their way to the door. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag, her movements slow and deliberate.

Outside, Mark held open the car door for Olivia, waiting patiently as she settled into the passenger seat. As he drove towards her aunt’s house, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.

When they arrived, Mark pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He turned to Olivia, his expression earnest. “Take care of yourself, Olivia,” he said softly.

Olivia nodded, her eyes shining. “You too, Mark.”

I opened the door, adopting a wide smile as I ignored the mixture of red, blue and green cars, along with a random black sedan, as my eyes focused on Olivia, her golden curls bouncing as she bounded up to me. She threw her arms around me, and I returned it with a laugh. “I missed you too, gumdrop.” I grinned, kissing her hair. “C’mon, I got ice cream.” I led her inside, closing the door with a curt nod to Mark. “What flavour are you feelin’ tonight? Vanilla or mint chocolate chip?”

“How about both?”

“I like the way you think.” I smirked, going to the freezer and pulling out the two tubs. “We’re gonna have this snack before heading to the sheriff’s trailer, because he hosts movie night. That ok with you?” I gave her a soft smile, only willing to go if she was.

However, her eyes lit up and so did the rest of her face, a broad grin spreading on her lips. “Yeah, of course! I still can’t get over the fact that my aunt has movie nights with the sheriff.” Olivia smirked. “Is there something you’re not telling me-?”

“Olivia Autumn Barlowe, where do you get these ideas from?” I passed her a bowl of ice cream with a laugh. “Jenny, Cassie and Carla will be there too.” I gave her a stern look, but couldn’t help but break into giggles again alongside her. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” I was about to open my mouth, but there was a loud bang on the door. My hand rubbed my exposed forearm from where my plaid shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a small frown on my face as another, more forceful bang shook the doorframe. It didn’t sound like it’d hold, and the many men’s voices from outside told me that this was a situation that I needed to get Olivia out of. I grabbed the keys to the back door just as a look of terror crossed her pretty features, breaking my heart.

“A-Auntie? What’s going on?” She whispered, looking to me with pleading eyes. I walked over quickly, acting on my feet and putting the keys in her hand.

“I don’t know. But you need to go.” I gripped her shoulders tight, my eyes flickering to the door, which was echoing- bang, bang, bang - and making it hard to think as the door rattled on what I knew were now flimsy hinges. “Out of the back door, ok? Our phones are upstairs, so there’s no time to get ‘em. Don’t get in the car, they might see you. Just run, keep on running, you know where Sheriff Arlen’s trailer is. Go tell him what’s happening, and he has backup with him already, ok? I need you to be strong for me and stay calm, alright?” Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, so I hugged her quickly, then kissed her forehead. “Please, sweetie. Run.” And she did what she was told right as the door busted down. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, ready to attack. Five men rushed in, all younger, taller, and with stronger builds.

There’s no way I was winning this fight.

“There’s Cal Joyner’s little girl.” One of them smirked, stepping towards me. “And she’s got a knife.”

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Another added with a matching wolffish grin. “D’you reckon we should have our fun with her?” The statement made my blood run cold and heart thank my mind over and over that I got Olivia out.

“Not if she’s wielding that pigstick.”

“That won’t be a problem, Yates, we’ll have that out of her hands in seconds.”

“Don’t you dare.” I spoke up, holding the knife out cautiously, trying to remain strong. “Deputy Elle Joyner, Sheriff’s Department. Tell me what you’ve done to Cal.”

“Cal’s got a bullet in his brain, sugar lips.” The one at the front chuckled, stepping forward, and with one clean swipe, his beefy hand knocked the knife out of my hand, another fist connecting with my cheek and knocking me to the floor. My fingers touched my bloody lip gingerly, but I found my back crashing through the glass coffee table, the shards slicing my clothes and skin. My brain tried to compute the pain as I let out a small groan, even more so when the wood of my dining table chair came into view. I rolled over, letting it hit my back with a strangled cry.

Olivia was running like her life depended on it- or her aunt’s, more accurately, sprinting over to Beau’s trailer with her legs pumping and tears flying from her pretty blue eyes.

“Say, is Belle gonna take any longer?” Beau chuckled deeply, his fingers drumming on the chair leg.

“Give her some time, Beau.” Carla chastised. “She has a life.”

“Yeah, Beau.” Jenny smirked, nudging him with a cheeky grin.

“You tell her, Carla.” Cassie added with a giggle, and when Beau looked to Emily for support, she shrugged in a way that said ‘don’t look at me’.

“You inducted my daughter into your little support group.” Beau faux-gasped. “I’ll never forgive you. Never-”

“SHERIFF!” Olivia came bounding up the driveway, and all of them sensed right away that something was seriously wrong. Beau met her halfway, catching Olivia as she practically collapsed into his arms with rasping, shaky breaths, on the verge of having a panic attack.

“Easy, Liv, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked with a frown, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. “Shh, easy, talk to me.”

“It’s A-Aunt Isa!” She cried, holding onto him like a lifeline. The sentence made Jenny, Cassie and Carla stand up, the latter gesturing for Emily to stay put. “Some men s-started breaking d-down the door, s-she told me to run; why did I run-”

“I’ve got you.” Beau nodded, sharing a look with Jenny and Cassie. “Your aunt’s gonna be ok. I’m gonna go with Jenny. You stay here, with Carla and Cassie, alright? I won’t let anythin’ happen to her, sweetheart. I promise.” Then he turned to Jenny, grabbing his keys from a side table. “Hoyt, let’s go.”

“I’ll call for an ambulance.” Jenny announced, pulling out her phone as they rushed to Beau’s car, Jenny’s panicked voice and the emergency line operator filling the atmosphere. After a drive that felt like an eternity, they pulled up at their destination and almost leapt out to find the door ajar and shards of glass and splinters of wood on the floor, along with a stain of red that only sent chills down their bones.

“BELLE!” Beau yelled as he ran inside, and the moment he saw my body, lying weak, barely conscious and covered in blemishes and remnants of blows, he fell to his knees beside me. I recognised his face only barely, a short, raspy breath leaving my mouth as I tried to say his name. Was Olivia ok? Is she safe? Of course she is, otherwise Beau wouldn’t have found me- God, my everything hurts. “Hoyt- Hoyt! I need an ETA on the ambulance.” Panic riddled his voice as he checked me over. “I-It’s bad, J-Jenny, it’s bad, she’s bruised all over- what did those bastards do to her?” He looked down at me, my eyes meeting his pretty green ones as he smoothed back my hair from my face. “Stay with me, Deputy. Don’t go passin’ on me now, don’t you dare.”

I tried to whisper out anything at all, but my lungs and/or ribs hurt too much.

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

[sirenyizuo]

the space in between; jennie ruby jane

actress!reader x idol!jennie

jennie knows that privacy isn’t something easily rewarded to those loved by many. y/n knows that with fame always comes with a price. finding love in the spotlight isn’t easy, but they just might be perfect for each other.

tw: implied sexual content

word count: 1261

previous

cool air twisted around the tall trees surrounding the bleak, gray building in front of jennie. if someone told her that the flashes from the cameras played a part in feeling like everything around her was twisting as well, she wouldn’t doubt it. the red eye flights to make all of their comeback stages that had been so unfortunately scattered amongst their tour dates weren’t exactly kind to her. a gentle touch to the small of her back was the only thing that commanded her attention more than the constant clicking and snapping coming from the media pit directly in front of her. turning quickly, she was faced with a soft smile coming from a taller, blonder woman.

“you okay?” rosé chirped, placing jennie’s left hand into one of her own. they locked eyes, and the trembling in the other girl’s fingers was an answer enough to rosé. jennie leaned into the gentle touch and rested her head on rosé’s shoulder. she could hear the clicks of the cameras increase. her eyes smiled as she giggled to herself, ‘the blinks will love it’, she thought.

these moments were the ones she held onto when things got hard. on the outside, things were perfect; worldwide it girl, chanel’s princess, goddess of the online world - what more could she ask for? she couldn’t lie, the attention felt amazing. for a while, of course. after “the idol” debuted, it felt like the slut-shaming hate train had returned in full force. god forbid a girl wants to expand her horizons.

she could remember the comments after the first two episodes premiered at sundance like it was yesterday. it was baffling how cruel people could be when their words were coming through a screen - whore, slut, and bitch had become the common tongue once again. the late night talks with lisa became more frequent, the two of them joking to help jennie cope. she found herself thinking, ‘they could at least be more creative.’ the ‘lazy jennie’ jokes were completely overdone - questioning the validity of her health issues was one of her anti’s most favorite activities.

her manager’s voice broke her train of thought as she beckoned her into the SBS building. turning her back, she heard the clicking come to a roar once again.

after exchanging her usual pleasantries with the music show staff, jennie made her way towards their dressing room. a familiar sight that meant at least an hour of peace and quiet while her makeup artist and hairdresser created the cool girl persona the public had grown to know her by oh so well. she could feel her shoulders drop back down and her headache start to clear at the thought of it. rushing to put her bag down, she grabbed her purse and phone and made her way to the restroom a couple paces down the hall.

her boots clinked sharply against the linoleum tile as she stationed herself in front of the mirror. sitting her things down, she turned the cold water on full blast. gathering the liquid into her hands, she splashed it across her cheeks and forehead; finally - relief. she sighed, her eyes resting shut. she almost felt a smile reach her face until the sound of a door opening shattered her bubble of tranquility. she jumped up slightly, an anxious habit. she felt some of her worry ease when a soft voice breached the silence,

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t know anyone else was in here,” the stranger across from her grinned softly, her eyes apologetic.

“it’s alright, i mean, i don’t own the bathroom.” jennie mused, a flush lighting up her face.

the two women shared a laugh that fell into only a somewhat awkward silence. jennie watched shyly through the mirror as the other woman leaned over the marble to wash her hands. her eyes darted away as soon as the other women straightened up to walk towards the hand dryer. she left jennie with a small wave as she exited the bathroom. jennie felt her breath force its way out of her mouth. ‘what about that interaction was so nerve racking?’ her thoughts were racing, her heart was pounding. she quickly wrapped up what was supposed to be a moment for relaxation and timidly walked back to the dressing room.

something about her demeanor immediately peaked the interest of jisoo. “jennie-ah, what’s on your mind?”

“nothing much, just a little jet lagged.” she knew she wasn’t the best liar, but how could she explain how she was feeling when she wasn’t even sure herself.

she could tell jisoo knew it was a lie. however, she knew that when jennie felt ready, she would come to her to talk. sending a sympathetic smile jennie’s way, jisoo set her attention back to her phone.

jennie finally sat down and let her team get to work. usually this silence was comforting, a moment for her brain to rest. today, however, her thoughts wouldn’t stop racing about the woman she’d only seen so briefly. she could even recall the scent of musky bergamot in the air from her perfume as she walked past. the way her skin reflected when the fluorescent lights connected to her. was she a staff member? had they just not met before? surely she would remember.

jennie had a penchant for getting to know the beautiful women she crossed paths with. this time was different, though. the meetings usually occurred somewhere dark, loud, sweaty or sleazy. she’d find two hands wrapping around her waist, feel warm breath touch the back of her neck, enticing her to a bathroom just off the dance floor. she couldn’t lie, there were times she would indulge. it’s hard to resist letting yourself enjoy something so tempting, so fully. all those girls felt the same, though. it was meaningless, fleeting and done for the cause of chasing a high she couldn’t reach. never once had she felt nervous.

had she just been taken off guard in a private moment? or was this something more? she didn’t give herself a chance to ponder on something as trivial as actually wanting to engage further with someone. emotions weren’t practical with a life like hers. she pushed the heart flutter aside and shut her eyes tight. she was on stage in less than a hour, she had a job to do.

as her hairstylist curled the last strand of hair, she smelled the familiar scent of berry hair spray - her quiet time has concluded, it’s time to get back to work.

she followed closely behind her three band-sisters and worked her way onto her place onstage. sauntering, her eyes low in a seductive gaze. this was where she was born to be, nothing could take her out of her zone now.

the show returned from commercial and the spotlights went up on the MC’s once again. she smiled, knowing the familiar sound of, “welcome, blackpink!” was about to ring in her ears once again. what she didn’t expect was the words coming from a honeyed voice she had heard not so far in the past. her heart dropped in her stomach.

“hello, it’s y/n l/n bringing you back to SBS Inkigayo; please welcome, blackpink!”

the crowd roared at the sight of the princess of korea’s acting scene and jennie realized why the stranger from the bathroom was so captivating.

the pink venom intro began to seep from the speakers, and jennie felt her heart drop into her stomach.

like she thought before, feelings don’t work in a job like hers.

[fructo]

HEARTSTOPPER SEASON 3: My Thoughts

i'm an emotional wreck right now and no one needs this but spoilers below the cut!

I honestly believe I've cried three times every episode. Everything about this show is just so beautifully comforting. The improvements from season two and season three are astronomical. It's beautiful. I'm an emotional wreck.

First of all, "a letter to myself at 17." This is my song. I absolutely SOBBED. I'm broken. I'm not human anymore.

Seeing Tori on screen more is wonderful. She's one of my favorite characters in the whole Osemanverse. Jenny Walser played the character so AAA. Her "please don't" was so raw.

Kit Connor and Joe Locke too. My goodness, the beach/bedroom scene. The raw emotion in their voice was performed so just... seeing Charlie's progress throughout the season just made me feel so happy and sad. They're wonderful.

and JONATHAN BAILEY. can i just say, i would have the same reaction as nick? he's a wonderful actor.

I will say that I'm a bit upset on how Tori didn't have her coming out scene on the ferris wheel. I know we got our ace/aro rep through Isaac (don't even get me started)

there's just so much to unpack this season! the episodes felt longer even though they were only like five minutes longer than the previous seasons. there's just so much per episode that it felt like eight hours rather than four.

and THEY SAY THE FUCK AND SHIT WORD. they say the silly curse words!!! revolutionary, i tell you. absolutely revolutionary.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Mega Demon: Blue and Yellow

Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Relationships: Bart Allen & Jenni Ognats Words: 2495 On Ao3 Summary Max told Bart that he absolutely, under any circumstances, was NOT allowed to enter the Mega Demon Championship because it would be 'cheating'.

Jenni decided spending time with Bart and making memories with him while stranded in the 1990s was more important than obeying Max and enters them both in the championship. But do they really have that button mashing skills to win? Can they also evade Max's suspicions? Find out!

Excerpt

That snapped Bart out of his gloom, his eyes still flat as he leaned back into the sofa. “M’fine. It’s just the Mega Demon Championship. Really wanted to compete but Max said ‘no’ and I gotta do what Max says!”  “Why did he say no? It seems pretty harmless, and we play Mega Demon all the time! You’re good at it!” Jenni got off of the floor to sit next to her cousin, she couldn’t help herself and she ran her narrow fingers through his thick auburn hair.  “I’m not just good at Mega Demon. I’m great at it!” Bart lamented and Jenni knew there was a rant to follow. “He thinks we use our powers to play! I tried to tell him our speed is no good in videogames, but he won’t listen! Says if I enter it’s cheating because I have an unfair advantage.” Bart scoffed then turned the television off with the remote, the screen crackled with static before it dimmed. “He doesn’t get how much I haveta slow down to play!” “And entering is really important to you, isn’t it?” Jenni asked, she still had her hand in his thick hair and felt him nod.  “I can’t play basketball, football, soccer ball, baseball and no cheerleading, I got kicked out of chess since the rook incident, and golf is cruel and unusual torture.” Bart listed off his fingers. “Golf. Max wanted me to play golf! Do you have any idea how boring a game golf is?”  “I don’t know what any of those are,” Jenni admitted. “But I’ll take your word for it. Hey, what do you need to do to enter this competition?”  Bart became a flicker of yellow when he bolted to grab a newspaper from the dining room table. When he came back he had it open to the exact page that mimicked the commercial from earlier. “It’s being held at the local Blockbuster here in town this Saturday. You just need to fill out their form.”  “Saturday is only two days away!”  “Yeah, and then it will be no days away and then yesterday!” Bart folded the newspaper and Jenni watched him put it back on the table. Biting her lip she made an impulsive decision and fell into white lightning and was gone. “Grife! It’s not fair! I can’t help it if I was born like this, I feel like I’m being punished just for being a speedster! Grife!” He turned around dramatically just in time to have Jenni show back up in crackles of white. “Woah, where did you go?”  Grinning, Jenni held up the white sign-up sheet. “Blockbuster right? The place Helen took us to rent Star Trek VII right?” Bart nodded and then it clicked, Jenni watched as his eyes sparkled.

This was written for the @flashfamevents Relay Race Flash Zine. Now I provide it all for you to enjoy.

Please let me know if you enjoyed it!

I had to lock down all my fics to registered users only due to AI Scraping.

[admireforever]

Charlie & Tori

[shrenvents]

She Does The Woods

Chapter six of the Miracle Aligner Series

Jennie's POV

My shaking body beats in rhythm with my pulse, while it grows numb to the cold. Though the Taxi had dropped me off around five minutes ago, my feet seemed to be frozen to the snow-covered earth. In the meantime, snow flurries have begun to build up along the surface of my coat and hood.

As if the nerves that kept me awake last night weren't enough, the driver had the radio on, which happened to be playing 'R U Mine?' by, you guessed it, the Arctic Monkeys. Honestly, my mind is far too possessed by anxiety to simply laugh at the irony of my predicament, as I should do. The impending urge to bring up Alex's "secret identity" is oozing. It's going to take a damn miracle to keep my loose lips shut, and with my luck, that's not likely.

Decidedly, I take an extensive, sharp, intake of breath before moving. Fortunately, the park was well-lit enough, so all my suspicions about murderous intent fizzled from my thoughts. Plucking my phone from my pocket, the screen instantly lights up, displaying how late I am: 5:11 pm. Along with the time, I also spy a text from Alex, sent only a minute prior.

5:10 p.m. Alex Alexander: Hey love, give me a call when you've arrived.

Strangely, his message dims the festering concern in my chest. Like there was a chance he would've stood me up, and that I would be disheartened by such a thing. Huffing a sigh, my eyes flutter closed momentarily as I march forward. While walking, I ring him. Immediately, Alex answers, and just as I open my mouth to speak, his relieved voice resounds through the speaker. "Thank god." I giggle softly.

"Afraid I wouldn't show Alex?" "Terrified Red." I laugh again, and I hear him chuckle faintly. "Who's to say I did?" I inquire with humour laced in my tone, humour Alex clearly didn't pick up on. "Are-- are you serious Jennie? I know I came on a bit strong but-"

The uproar of laughter I'd been suppressing explodes, promptly dulling Alex's panicked ramble. "That's not funny," he scolds. 

Then, I recognize his figure from a distance, head tilted towards his shoes, studying them with a smile decorating his face. I swoon, pausing my stride. "You think I'm funny Alexander, there's no need to lie." Observing Alex, I await his usual correction of his name, but it doesn't come. Instead, silence consumes the other end of the call, and my vision hones in on his peaceful expression. My heartbeat stumbles with an impactful thump. Get it together Jennie...

"Turn to your left handsome." His brows shoot into his forehead, creasing it. Swivelling his head, I savour the realization that adorns his features as he takes me in. His eyes roam my stationary frame, mouth agape before it closes. "Come here." That's all he says with a simple grin, and I take off. I start racing towards him. My little sprint obviously catches him off guard, and I nearly tackle him. However, his embrace captures my clinging body. I instinctively bury my face into his chest. Humming pleasantly, I breathe in his familiar, musky scent.

Though he was initially hesitant, thrown off by my spontaneous action, he quickly elevates his loose hug, to a firm, secure one, as though he's scared this isn't real, or that I'll slip away. I hate how endearing it is, how endearing he is. I really have lost it...

Slightly embarrassed, I slither out of his grip, and he reluctantly lets me. Our eyes lock as we move to an arm's length. His eyes then flicker to my lips and I press them to a thin line.

"I'm not sleeping with you in the woods." As soon as the sentence escapes my throat, the unnamed tension between us is lifted. "Didn't think you would."

"Or ever," I interject lamely, and his face immediately feigns confusion. "Again," I scramble out.

"Sorry?" His brow rises, and a bitter smirk tugs one side of his mouth. "Uh, so, you got me here, no axe or chainsaw?" I rush to change the subject, which he notices but chooses to ignore. "Not on hand, no." He shakes his head at me, eyes wandering away from mine, peering into the dark skyline. I laugh pathetically, fidgeting with my hands, unnerved by his quietness.

After a moment, he shifts his gaze back to me, and I perk up right away. "I made us dinner." My brows furrow slightly, eyes trailing to his rising hand. He's holding up a basket with a shy smile. "There's a gazebo over there with a park bench underneath," he jerks his head to the right, "Sound alright to you Red?"

"As long as I live and breathe, it sounds great." His snort plasters a grin on my face. I follow closely behind him as he makes his way to the gazebo.

...

This "date" is going too well. At every turn, every new conversation, he makes me laugh, forget what I planned to say, everything I was apprehensive about. This is terrible. Everything wrong has become a fleeting memory. Except, that one revelation, still sitting at the tip of my tongue. Don't bring it up, in any way, shape, or form--

"So what do you do for a living." Shit.

"Thought you knew already." He swallows his last bite, a little too soon, and he audibly clears the lump in his throat. "Musican, or something... Right?" I mutter slowly, glancing between him and the surprisingly good meal he cooked. "Something like that, yes." He nods, shoulders tense. Is he trying to keep who he is a secret? Slightly disoriented, I grow quiet. He peers at me, eyes widening at my probably, very frightening expression. "What?" He gulps down another bite, and I lose it for real this time.

I spring to my feet, pause, drop my fork, and lean over the table to swat his arm repeatedly. He lets out a spurt of noises, mouth full, failing to convey his puzzlement.

"Some musician huh? Yeah right!" I shout, my voice cracking. "I may have been slow on the uptake, but I figured it out eventually, I'm not an idiot!" My verbal vomit shocks both of us, and I want to crawl out of my skin. But that doesn't seem to stop me.

"You're a freakin millionaire for Christ's sake! And I'm just-" I temporarily cut myself off before continuing my outburst. "Not like the money really matters to me! Unless you think it does? I'm not a gold-digger you asshole!" 

And with that, the crazy lady attempts to leave the scene. 

Rotating on my heel, I maneuver away from the picnic table but a hand clasps my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. I barely turn to look at Alex, till I discern his alarmed state. I'm completely mortified, but I know, deep down, I can't simply run away, not when he's looking at me like that.

"I'm sorry Jennie," he utters breathlessly. After a long beat, I nod. "Why didn't you say anything." "I'm not sure," his teeth dig into his bottom lip. "I guess, you just didn't seem all that interested in me in the first place," he sighs. "I didn't want to muck it up." I contemplate my reaction, simultaneously acknowledging his sullen expression. I ease a bit. "You know, from what I hear, telling a girl you're a rockstar to get them in bed, usually has a 100% success rate." I joke weakly. I imagine my smile isn't quite meeting my eyes.

Alex's pained stare makes me shudder. "I would never think of you as a gold-digger Jennie." Another shiver wretches through me. Why on earth is he taking me seriously? His attentive language and hold are invoking things in me I'd rather avoid. I shake my head. "I know," I pause, my voice dropping, "I think." I pause again, anxiously twisting my necklace's pendant with my free hand. "I'm sorry, I don't know where all that  came from." He furiously shakes his head in disagreement, but I continue anyway. "I'm so embarrassed, god, you must regret asking me out-"

"No, god no." I peel my eyes from his grasp to look up. He holds my gaze with an intense certainty, telling me, there's no room for opposition. "This is my fault, I shouldn't have withheld what I do from you as if it were a secret... I wasn't thinking." He huffs defeatedly, and a smoke of cool air visibly leaves his mouth.

"I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me, and finish dinner." He smiles sheepishly, gesturing back to the table. His face falls a little. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."

I look away from his desperate eyes, peering down at his grip on my wrist. The skin there has probably gone red from how tightly he's holding it. Noticing what has my attention, he releases my hand, apologizing once more. "It's okay. And yes, I'm still pretty hungry." We hold eye contact as I speak. "And the food's pretty good, I was scared you were gonna make some of that British crap." Alex's laughter erupts and I beam.

"British crap?" "Like spotted dick or something." He laughs harder. "Not on the first date." "Second then?" I raise a brow, not sure what I'm promising. His smile stretches. "If you'd like..." His laughter subsides as he mumbles.  "I think I would."

I watch as something he's most likely been keeping hidden flashes in his eyes. Something within him falters, but he shifts his eyes toward the sky before I can make out what it might be.

...

As the date went on, it got darker and darker, and with that, the winter was starting to creep up on us. Somehow I ended up sitting beside Alex, huddled close to his body. Shoulder to shoulder, he holds my hands in his palms, thumbs grazing the insides of them -- strictly to keep them warm of course. When our conversation slowly fades out, I didn't seem to mind, though, liking the silence didn't stop me from filling it.

"Ever jump into freezing water?" I question with a smirk. His thumbs stop their caress and press into my skin. "You're not jumping into the river," Alex states firmly. "Wasn't planning on it." I giggle. "Just asking." My head rises slightly with his soft exhale. "No." "Boring..."

"So I take it you have," he murmurs lowly. "No." His deep laugh bellows through the chilling air. "But if I did..." I trail off, unsure of what I'm planning to say. "I'd wish I was the water," Alex says, finishing for me. I didn't know what I expected him to say, but I didn't expect it to be so... Poetic.

A nervous laugh shakes my stomach, while my chest swarms with an unknown feeling. The silence once again crowds the atmosphere, but I'm not too fond of it this time. "Alex-"

Abruptly, my speech is cut short by Alex's palms releasing mine to cup my face. His palms lift my cheeks to brush our lips into a gentle kiss. He swallows my surprised moan, and I briefly see the passion in his expression. My lids bat shut, and I let him take me under, into the river.

chapter seven

[1-800-sistershookth]

EXPOSED ➼ EP06

EP05 >> EP06. EXPOSED >> EP06.5

You let out a sigh as you click your phone off. The once vibrant screen, alight with various tweets and comments fade to the dutiful back of your phone. You loosen your grip on the device and allow it to fall almost hazardously into the soft pillowy cushion of the dorm couch.

The sun had long set, bringing serenity and drowsiness to everyone in Korean in its wake.

Everyone but you.

It was stupid to be affected by the netizens joined by your own fan base— you knew that. Dating rumors were a sure-con in the life of an idol, that you also knew. But that didn’t mean such conspiracies weren’t exhausting.

You really tried not to care. After all, you knew the truth. You were not dating Eunwoo. Still, the weight of public scrutiny, and the equal amount of support was suffocating.

The support to be in a relationship with a man other than the one who owns your heart: Jeon Jungkook.

You and Eunwoo have been friends since the two of you were trainees. Although bound by different entertainment companies, you and Eunwoo had a dilligent and unwavering companionship that went beyond the boundaries of separation. He was one of your very best friends; a cherished loved one, but he was not your love.

He did not have the key to your heart nor did you have the key to his.

Your love, although pure and inexorable, was strictly platonic.

And if you knew that, then why were you so bothered by such rumors?

The answer proves to be rather simple: you are human. You are just a young woman at the end of the day— someone who was just trying to live out their youth doing a passion they can happily say is their successful career. That, and you are in love.

You are so deeply in love with Jeon Jungkook that the thought of people assuming you are in another relationship with another man is just vexatious. Jungkook, the man he is, was not bother by the recent resurfaced allegations of you and your best friend. He was sure of himself and your relationship, which was the sexiest thing about him in your opinion.

And if he wasn’t bothered, then why were you?

You let out a small huff of air before running a hand through your thick, slightly tangled locks of hair. It was so tedious, being subject to the burden of people’s own opinions and allegations. Who were they to accuse you of being in a relationship anyway?

“Are you alright, Y/N?” You gaze snapped up towards the archway or the dorm’s lounge room. Your E/C eyes clashing with the concerned brown of your good friend, and fellow Blackpink member, Kim Jennie.

You let out a small breath at the question. Your eyes wavered slightly, but you managed an unconvincing nod of your head.

Jennie raised an eyebrow and you opened your mouth for a proper answer. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Your answer was almost robotic, and a complete lie. It was unconvincing at the very least. Jennie let out a small scoff, obviously unconvinced.

Without another word, Jennie kicked herself off of the wall of the archway and walked further into the room, silent, but somehow warming the cold, depressing room with her presence.

“I find that hard to believe.” Jennie said, sitting down beside you. You turned your body to face the idol, then forced a tight-lipped smile on your lips.

“Where are the girls?” You asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Jennie narrowed her eyes. “Sleeping.” She answered, “They want to be well rested for their solo schedules tomorrow. But before we went to bed, we noticed the trending page on Twitter.”

Her explaination causes your eyes to harden by just a fraction, a low, uncharacteristic grumble building in the center of your throat.

“Ah, yes.. Eunwoo and Y/N, the power couple of kpop.” Your words are soaked in bitterness, a frown on your face.

“Yeah I’ve heard.”

“Y/N… it’s just social media. You shouldn’t be bothered by such allegations. You know that your trending alleged relationship will be replaced by another scandal caused by other misread situations. It will pass.” Jennie’s voice was soft, her reassurance like a soothing rain dousing the forest fire of thoughts that ran rampant in your head.

You take a shaky breath.

“I know.. it’s just so vexatious, Jen.” You sigh.

Jennie furrows her eyebrows. The rapper scoots closer to you, her hand clasping your own as if to comfort you without words.

“Is Jeon irked by the rumors?” Jennie asked, softly. You could tell she felt like she was stepping on a minefield with that question, which you instantly denied.

“No! No! It is nothing like that!” You shake your head instantaneously, quickly ridding that thought from your best friend’s mind.

Jennie nods, urging to continue.

You are silent for a moment. You poke the inside of your cheek, trying your best to formulate the right words to express the complexities of the torrent running amok throughout your mind.

“It’s just…” You let out a frustrated chortle. “It’s just so frustrating.”

Jennie squeezes your hand, and with that gesture, you find yourself exposing all of your thoughts and feelings like your mouth was a leaky faucet.

“Jungkook doesn’t care, he has reassured me countless times that he understands. And I am happy about that, I truly am, so don’t misunderstand my words. But.. that’s the thing, I do care.” You shake your head, tears of frustration pooling past your waterline and spreading throughout your eyes— yet never daring to fall.

“Everyone supporting my supposed relationship with Eunwoo feels so demeaning to my the relationship my heart is actually in. Jennie, I know it’s not true, but a semblance of me stupidly reacts badly to seeing those headlines because no one truly knows the truth.” You take a deep, albeit shaky breath before you glance away from Jennie. You tilt your head back and blink back your tears. “I feel crazy, but I’m tired of hiding my love for him.”

“Y/N…” Jennie sighs, The dark-haired idol pulls you into an embrace. Her skin is warm against your slightly chilled body. The skin ship calms you.

“It is completely normal to feel like this. Jisoo felt the same before she went public with her relationship, but you can’t let it burden you.” Jennie’s words are a much needed comfort. You no longer felt insane about being affected by the dating rumors… just downcast.

“You are in a a happy, loving relationship. You are successful, and you are surrounded by people you love, doing what you love.” You listen to Jennie with open ears.

“Don’t feel crazy. I understand you, and so does your— ew— boyfriend.” You giggle at Jennie’s reluctance to praise your relationship status.

A silence overcomes the two of you, and you allow Jennie to hold you.

‘Everything would be alright.’ You finally allowed yourself to think.

Oh how wrong you were.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

~*~

1. For the Next Fic Finder:

Looking for a time travel fic in which older WWX travels back to past Lotus Pier, the Jiang family then decides it would be better to have older xian be introduced as younger xians older brother. Older!WWX also comes with them at CR in which he befriended LXC and later NMJ and change both of their opinions regarding resentful energy.

P.S I think there was also a chapter where he went "missing" but he was just with the Dafan Wens and just really missed them in his depressed state.

FOUND! MingYu by Fino_Al_Cielo (T, 87k, WWX & LWJ, YL WWX, yunmeng siblings, Fix-It of Sorts, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, PTSD, References to Depression, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Trauma)

~*~

2. Hello! Looking for two specific modern AU fics

A) Posted on twitter where Wei Ying kept bothering LWJ on the length of her skirt (it was a genderbend fic)

B) Posted on instagram. LWJ and WWX were both models, WWX were kidnapped and tortured at one point because of jealous Jin Zixun

Thank you in advance for the help! @hid9884

2A)

FOUND? this thread by @/3neetee

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3. Hi can you help me find a fanfic?? um wei wuxian works at a sex shop and lan wangji comes in to close it down bc his parents own it but end up falling in love where as jiang cheng works at a bar where lan xichen fall inlove w/ him and wei wuxian crazy ex (jenny I think) tries to kill him??

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4. hiii ! i’m looking for a fic where it’s set in post canon, i think, and it’s about wei changze confronting jiang cheng about everything wei wuxian went through. There was a scene where he talks about experiencing being whipped by zidian through wwx bc at his desperate times, wwx unknowingly calls for his parents and wcz was able to connect with him somehow and that’s how he saw the things that happened in wwx’s life. tysm!!! @makkachiin

FOUND! Chapter 24 of Short Prompts by Vrishchika

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5. I'm looking for a shapeshifting fic. LWJ was a rabbit and WWX a fox. LWJ ended up transforming out of stress, and bumped into WWX who took him home on his fox back and later kept visiting him. WWX was also staying in the woods and keeping things at NHS's house. I've searched through my history but I can't find it so I'm scared it's been deleted. @flaxenhairedsamurai

I don't remember what 5 is called but someone else was looking for it semi recently

FOUND! This Twitter fic by @/Zizzani

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6. I'm looking for a modern AU where the characters work in various emergency services. I remember that the first chapters focused a lot on WWX, and I *think* that later chapters switched to a focus on Meng Yao/JGY. I specifically remember a scene where WWX climbs up a stuck rollercoaster or Ferris wheel, and someone he tries to save falls and dies. He was maybe a firefighter? And LWJ was maybe an EMT?

FOUND! 🧡 Like a House on Fire by KouriArashi (T, 82k, WangXian, Modern au, Paramedics, Firefighters, Light angst, Mutual pining, Kid fic, Past drug use, Past child abuse, Families of choice, Domestic fluff)

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7. I want to find a Wangxian A/B/O fanfic It was very long and angsty about Wei Wuxian being an Omega Cultivator where they are expected to be locked up inside. It had a one-sided Jin Zixuan x Wei Wuxian and a really bad scene with Wen Chao. Its no longer in ao3 but i cant remember the author reposted it

FOUND? and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow (Prologue – Index) (E, 303k, off-screen rape, oppression, violence, sexual assault, grief/mourning, unwanted pregnancy., A/B/O)

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8. looking for a modern au fic, cant remember the title but the description on ao3 had something about a taxi driver noticing a bruise on wei ying and mentioning that the person will hurt him again. there was a suicide attempt i think, due to the jiang family abuse, and lan zhan was his neighbour!

FOUND? like a fox in tall grass by notinamillionyears, starcrushedjewels (notinamillionyears) (E, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Suicide Attempt, Drug Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors, College/University, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Anxiety Attacks, Pianist LWJ, Smoking, Trauma, Explicit Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caretaking, Identity Issues, Age Difference, Power Dynamics, Dom/sub Undertones, Eating Disorders, Mutual Pining, Consensual Non-Consent, Sleeping Together, Suicidal Ideation, Bipolar Disorder, implied manic depression)

~*~

9. hello im looking for a fic where jzx asks wangxian for help and there's a cursed building? and mxy is in it or in the center of it and they rescue him. that's about all i remember sorry. appreciate any help tho ♥️

hello im the last ff anon #9. sorry but the suggestion isn't it. i distinctly remember it being a cursed building, or maybe a watch tower maybe? and mxy was inside it. wangxian are already married iirc also a bunch of jins died in that building i think? bc of the resentful energy?

hello ff anon #9 again. to answer anon's question, mxy isn't a spirit. he's alive in the fic and i think he follows wangxian after he was rescued? i appreciate all the help that's coming y'all are so cool

NOT FOUND! 9 sounds like it might be Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, canon divergence, fix-it, everyone lives au, romance, developing relationship, family, sibling bonding, light angst, politics, attempted sexual assault, some murder, people talking about their feelings, trauma processing) although the rescue is in a mine not a building

for #9, is MXY a ghost/spirit that needed liberating/sending off?

FOUND? quiet, blooming hours by Sanguis (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern AU, Magical Realism, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Family Feels, Background Relationships, Resurrection, Adoption) Idk if #9 could be ...the house is somewhat cursed and the jins are involved but not the way anon describes. Wangxian is established though

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10. Hi, I hope you can find me find this wonderful fic where WWX used an array to make everyone forget about him. He succeeded with his plan but the people who initially knew him (JC, JFM, JYL, even Madam Yu, basically everyone) always subconsiously thinks of him like something or someone is missing in their lives. Eventually, JC, LWJ, and LXC realized that someone must've erased their memory of that person so they tried their best to undo the curse or the array.

FOUND? Remember by Amona (T, 57k, JC & WWX, wangxian, Canon Divergence, self-sacrifice, erasing oneself from history, colored souls, sword spirits, major angst w happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, minor character death, WIP)

~*~

11. Hi, I'm searching for a modern au fic where WWX was gonna have an abortion, and LWJ offered to drive him to his appointment. He said that he'd help him because his mother had no choice or something like that. It's a one shot, I think, not much happens, appart from that.

FOUND! baby let's take the long way home by plonk (Not rated, 10k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, abortion, mpreg, with a twist, enemies to lovers)

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12. Does anyone remember that fic where lwj is a goth DJ at a bar? And wwx keeps trying to meet him or hang out with him? Lwj is ruder than usual I think. I might be mixing up two different fics but in the one I’m thinking of lwj gives wwx a ride home late at night… it’s driving me crazy- I thought I had saved it!

FOUND! The Quiet Room by trickybonmot (M, 39k, wangxian, modern, 1990s, goth LWJ, cellist LWJ, college student WWX, house hunting, dating, clubbing, implied/referenced past child abuse, mental health issues, academic disaster aftermath, getting together, homelessness)

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13. First of all, thank you for all your work, you're awesome!! Second, I'd like to ask for your help to find a fic. it's ABO where omegas are like really rare and sacred in the cultivation world, wwx is an omega but for some reason he hides it until it all comes out about the time he's in the burial mounds with the Wen, and that's when the sects finally believe him and take his side bc omegas always stand for what's right and true or smt. Thanks!!

FOUND! Woven fates by apathyinreverie (T, 10k, wangxian, ABO, alpha LWJ, omega WWX, fix-it, fluff, family, romance, mates) it has the "omegas always stand for what’s right and true," but wwx wasn't hiding it, he just didn't present until he felt safe and then ran into lwj again / WWX wasn't actively hiding being an omega though, but only presented while in the burial mounds.

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14. Hello i'm looking for a fic where wei ying enters a mating run on a dare(or bet) and if you survive the run you get $50,000 if lan Wanji chooses you, you get $1 million. There is also some orginized crime aspects to the fic

FOUND? Five Fifteen by 3neetee (M, 11k, wangxian, rape/non-con, ABO, modern, alpha LWJ, alpha WWX, mating runs, graphic descriptions of violence, dom/sub undertones, light bondage, implied mpreg, dark LWJ, betrayal, smut, dark lans, unreliable narrator WWX) locked

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15. Hello for the next fic finder can you please help me find a fic where Wei Wuxian loses his memories after an accident. I remember WWX and LWJ were engaged and they were going to marry and LQR hired a private investigator and the accuses WWX of cheating and everyone believes him. But it was actually WWX meeting Wen Qing to discuss adopting A-Yuan. WWX keeps it a secret because he wanted to surprise LWJ when they get married with the adoption papers. Anyways after they accuse him of cheating WWX runs out and gets hits by a vehicle and loses his memories. It was a modern AU.

Thank you for all the help you do for us. @mybestfriendisacinnamonroll​

FOUND? (Un)forgettable by Edens_Cat & VividestList (E, 67k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, modern, misunderstandings, angst w/ happy ending, kid fic, teacher WWX, single parent WWX, amnesia, protective WQ, protective LSZ, smut)

~*~

16. Hi! I am not sure if this has been asked before but I'm looking for this fic where Lan Yuan grew up as the Jiang sect heir because Jiang Cheng got to him before Lan Zhan. I could remember there are several kids in the Burial Mounds and one of them was adopted into the Lan sect as a healer. And the rest (there were three of them ig???) were basically hiding in the Jiang sect unbeknownst to Jiang Cheng. I really really loved that fic but I can't remember much from it and I want to read it again. Thaaaaanks!!

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts) sounds like this one, but a-yuan is still with the Lan. The kids at the Jiang sect and the healer at the Lan sect match though

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17. I think it was very Nie Huaisang centric and short, but I can’t remember anything other than a few lines near the end where NHS was remembering that JGY hadn’t taken into account that LXC had known him since he was a kid and would trust and defend him.

The line I remember is something like “NHS remembers being passed back and forth between LXC and NMJ like a particularly beloved parcel” referring to LXC practically adopting him as a second little brother.

Thank you!

FOUND! Chapter 32 of Twelve Moons and a Fortnight by stiltonbasket (M, 290k, WangXian, Humor, Slow Burn, Post-Canon Fix-It, Long-Distance Relationship, Epistolary, Love Letters, Family Feels, a-qing lives, teenage romance, Adoption, Romantic Comedy, Happy Ending, Weddings, Case Fic, Parenthood, Politics) you're looking for chapter 32 of twelve moons and a fortnight by stilton basket.

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18. Hello, can you help find this fic? The back story in this fic is yzy is cheating with wcz and wwx is yzy'son with wcz. After wwx born he was cast aside and yzy pregnant with soon after with jfm as the fathet. Wcz become a rogue cultivator while raising wwx and he meet csr. In the first chapter i think wwx is kinda kicked out by bssr to make him meet with his sibling in cloud recesses and make a peace with them. I think he introduce himself as a-xian (or it is a-ying? But i think it was a-xian). I think that's all i can remember. Thank you!

FOUND! The Undesirable Son by FragranceLotion97 (G, 34k, WangXian, CQL but WWX is Madam Yu's Bastard Son, It goes differently from the beginning, WWX becomes sworn brother with lxc then becomes his in law, LWJ is still whipped, There is Yin Iron, Heavily CQL with a little mix from the novel, Adding donghua into the fandom because i decide to use a lot of things from there)

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19. For the next fic finder: can you help me find a fic where wwx falls in the lake when they’re fighting the abyss, and everyone believes he dies. Weeks (or maybe months) pass, and then he washes up on the shore of the lake, somehow still alive. I think it might have been Lan Xichen pov, and he was blaming himself for losing wwx since he was in charge of the hunt.

~*~

20. Looking for a fic where WWX was Baoshan Sanren’s disciple (I think) and they were doing demonstrations. WWX went through all major sects’. The one I remember clearly is that the Lan style was war

FOUND! Become Tomorrow by  ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, cloud recesses study arc, BSSR's disciple WWX)

~*~

[txemrn]

Somewhere Else

Book: The Nanny Affair, Book 3

Word Count: ~4730 (I haven't written TNA in a loooong time... I had a lot to say)

Song Inspo: "Paris" by Taylor Swift

Summary: Brynn (MC) reminisces about her whirlwind of a wedding day that was filled with jitters and professions of love.

Warning: a little language; fluff; bits of angst

AN: This is my submission for @moodmusicmonday's the Luck of the Draw! I'm not exactly a Swiftie, but this was so much fun, gleaning inspo from a song I otherwise would never have known! Thank you to whoever sent it, and to my amazing counter-part @sfb123 (who... I don't know if y'all know this, but she has been running MMM for most--if not all--of 2023): thank you for hosting this event, sister! You did a GREAT job!

A/N 2: These characters, some of the plot and even some of the dialogue belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Not truly preread or beta'd, so please excuse my errors!

~🖤~

Present

"... tonight on ET, we have the wedding exclusive of billionaire bachelor Samuel Dalton and his nanny-turned-fiancée Brynn Schuyler–"

The glow of the screen flickers to black before hosting a new picture.

"... I'm here with the groom's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Mason Dalton. Seeing your son at the altar like that, tell us –"

 The soft click of a button changes to another channel.

"...the two are pictured here before they scurried off to an undisclosed location, some believe they are still here in Mexico–"

He turns off the television before tossing the remote onto the coffee table in our suite.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket, running an anxious hand through his thick, chestnut waves. No doubt, he's staring at dozens of missed calls and unanswered texts. 

I don't know if it was the turning of the bathroom doorknob, or if he could hear my nervous, labored breathing, but he abruptly stops, dropping his phone as he fixes his hungry gaze to me. A crooked smile forms as he devours me with his dark eyes, the flecks of copper reflecting in the candlelight.

Butterflies evade my belly as I stand before him, wearing nothing but the white shirt from his tux. I fidget with the cuffs of the long sleeves as they keep falling past my hands. I can feel him watching my body, an innocent awe etching across his face.

"I hope you don't mind me borrowing your shirt." I blush, averting my eyes as the oversized cotton material slouches off of my sunkissed shoulder, exposing my bare skin.  "I don't exactly have anything else–"

"It's perfect," he croons softly. He stalks closer to me, his hands finding mine. "You really think I wanted to see you a moment longer in that dress?" He chuckles, the warmth in his tone exhilarating my senses.

We fall into a comfortable silence, our eyes locked on one another. 

We're finally here.

Him. And me. Forever.

------

Earlier that day

“...So as I look to our… to our–” I pause from my neurotic pacing, glancing down at my notes before quickly darting my eyes away once again.  I wrote my wedding vows weeks ago, and had no problem memorizing them. But something about today… something is freaking me out.

“So as I look to our future, I vow to… I vow to, um… Damnit!”  I hold up my vows again, but with my clumsy, nervous fingers, I accidentally drop the index cards. “Shit! Shit!”  I try to catch them as each one floats into various directions all over the floor, some of them finding their way underneath the furniture of my bridal dressing room suite.  With a heavy sigh, I crawl on my knees, attempting to reach the ones that fell under the coffee table. 

“Happy wedding day–!”

I jump.  The sudden chirp of my best friend's voice causes the back of my skull to meet the glass table with an abrupt thud followed by a tearful groan. "Ow!"  I fall forward, my face finding the ornate rug as my fingers shield my now-aching head.

"Brynn!" Jenny panics, seeing my body now splayed on the floor. Aditya helps me up, assisting me to a nearby chaise lounge.  Marisol fills a tea towel with ice before applying it to the back of my head with care. Jenny plops down next to me, biting her nail in worry. "What were you doing down there?"

I force a cordial smile, holding up a single note card. "Vows," I mutter, the small gesture making me wince from the surge of pain.

"Ahh! Your vows!" Jenny squeals at a higher decibel than normal. "You're finally a blushing bride!  Can you believe it?"

"I… I can't believe it." My eyes widen in shock. I'm trying to match my best friend's enthusiasm, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm missing the bride gene. You know; the one that makes you giggle like a schoolgirl  at even the dumbest jokes and cry happy, pretty tears at everything bridal.

 Me? I think I'm about to hurl.

Jenny grabs my hand, admiring my engagement ring yet again.  I blame her pregnancy hormones, and her desire to be locked down with someone.  No doubt, she'd prefer Aditya, but at this point, I think she'll take anyone.

"Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton," Jenny singsongs, letting go of my fingers. She clasps her hands dreamily with a far-off daze in her bronze eyes.

I stare back down at the heavy rock on my finger, my arm growing fatigue under its weight. The glint from the sun catches the cut diamond just right, casting blinding fractals in my eyes. I hiss from the abrupt intrusion of bright light to my vision.

Mrs. Samuel J. Dalton, I repeat to myself.  "I'm… I'm getting married," I state matter-of-factly as a catch my reflection in the floor-length mirror. "I'm… getting…" my voice becomes softer, more hoarse as I stand to look closer at myself. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton…" I can't seem to catch my breath as I watch my bridal party pop open a bottle of chilled champagne–and a bottle of sparkling grape juice. My voice grows louder, anxious. And terrified. "I'm marrying Sam Dalton… today!"

"Yes!" Jenny celebrates passing me a flute, "isn't this awesome?" She cheers with my glass before I watch the others lift their drinks in my honor. And everyone seems to freeze, staring at me to say something. 

Truth is… I have no words. Oh God, what is happening?

"It's… awesome," I choke out, hoping my bright smile will convince them. And convince me. I quickly down the entire glass.

“I’m so excited for you and Sam," Jenny continues to gloat.

"Me and Sam." I take a deep cleansing breath. Right. Eye on the prize, Brynn. Me and Sam. It's just you and Sam. It's just you… and…

“So how’re you holding up?" Marisol takes a seat on a couch, crossing her legs nonchalantly. "I remember I was an absolute wreck at my wedding. Any pre-wedding jitters?”

Jenny chuckles, waving her hand in the air as if the mention of nerves is preposterous. "Jitters? This gal has been dreaming about this day since she met the hottie."

Aditya snickers. He saunters up close to Jenny, wrapping his arms around her waist before taking a sip of his bubbly drink.

I glance around the room, everyone's attention stuck on me. Damnit, I know I'm the bride and today is about me.  But does everyone have to be staring at me like that, like I've given them a new hope in love, that love does conquer all, that Sam and I are their new favorite fairy tale? 

"Right, Brynn?" Jenny prompts when I stay silent, nodding her head.

“I… feel like I’ve never been more ready for anything." I take a deep cleansing breath before curling my lips into a bright grin.  "No jitters. No doubts.”

Jenny claps her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Then let’s get you to the altar–starting with your dress!”

The dress… my wedding dress… right…

------

Present

My cell phone rings, the chime breaking us both from the haze of the day.  I had put it on Do Not Disturb when we left the ceremony, save for a few numbers. I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

And I don't care.

He smirks, nodding over his shoulder. "You gonna get that?"

I step forward, sliding my hands up the firm planes of his chest until I intertwine my fingers behind his neck. I shake my head. "Nothing could be more important than being here with you, being us."

Slipping his arms around my waist, he tenderly presses his forehead to mine. He nuzzles his nose flesh to my skin, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. His mouth is a breath away from discovering my own… when my phone rings again.

He smirks, chuckling at the annoyance and slightly pulling away.

"Damnit," I mutter.

He kisses my temple. "Go ahead," he encourages, "it'll be like ripping off a band-aid." He teasingly spanks my ass.  "And then I'll kiss it and make it better."

“Promise?” I snicker, enjoying his hands on me, but reality quickly sets in. My eyes flutter close as my heart begins to pound like a drum in my chest. Just face the music… 

I walk over to grab my phone, peering at the screen.  I cinch my eyes closed again before swiping to answer the call.

"Hey–"

"Oh, thank God!" Jenny shouts through my speaker. "When you weren't answering, I just assumed the worst–"

"Jenny, I–"

"You guys just left," she nervously titters, "no goodbyes or anything. We went to your room, and–"

"Listen, I can't stay long. But everything is okay. Better, actually. And we're safe. We found another place to stay... You know? Get away from the chaos and the press." I chew on the inside of my mouth. "Can you… tell Moma that?"

"Yeah, of course, but Brynny… are you–"

"Jenny, stop. I promise, I will tell you everything when we get back from our trip. Okay?"  My best friend doesn't respond right away, and I'm not sure if my answers satisfy her genuine curiosity.

"I… I just want to make sure you're happy."

I look at the beautiful man sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. And suddenly, I am overwhelmed with feelings of joy as I see our future play out in front of me. With our kids. The business. With each other. And it all finally seems so perfectly clear.

"Jen," my eyes sting with pricks of tears, "I've never been happier."

------

Earlier that day…

"Brynn! Brynn!"

Startled, I spin around to see my favorite boys bounding around the foyer. "Whoa, whoa, you guys–" They crash into my arms as I bend down to catch them. I pepper kisses into their handsome curls, breathing in their scent that always feels like home. Gosh, my boys… 

Mickey stands tall with his arms behind his back. “Miss Naya told us to give you this!” He pulls out my bouquet of fresh roses, a bountiful collection of gorgeous creams and soft pale pinks. "Tada!"

My breath hitches, taken aback by how absolutely dreamy everything has turned out. This wedding… it… it's really happening. I take the bouquet, the sweet floral notes dancing around me before I turn to look at two pairs of glittering eyes. 

"It's almost as pretty as you, Brynn," Mason pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Just like a princess," Mickey chimes in.

“You two look pretty sharp yourselves,” I wink, adjusting Mason’s bowtie before fixing a wayward curl behind Mickey’s ear. "Do you have the rings like we practiced?"

The twins nod their heads in unison, pulling out the velvet boxes. "I promise we won't drop them," Mickey flashes a worried glance.

"Baby," I cup his freckled cheek, "you're going to do just fine." I place my hand on Mason's shoulder. "Both of you."

"Do we have to call you 'Mom' after you marry Dad?" Mason innocently questions.

Mom. The word hits like a brick in the pit of my stomach. I'm going to be someone's mother… not just one person, but I'm going to be a mother of two… 

And this is no surprise to me. Afterall, Mickey and Mason are the entire reason I even met this family. I've only known the Daltons for less than a year, and yet, I have been one of the only mother figures in their young lives. When I agreed to marry Sam, it was a package deal.

God, I love them so much. They have given me so much joy, even on days I didn't think I was going to make it. Between the incessant fights and the scandals, these two precious boys have seen me and loved me for me. They were my family long before… well, long before Sam and me…

I can't imagine living a day without a joke or a prank from those two… but being their actual mother? Making sure these two boys grow into successful men? 

"Well?" Mickey prompts for an answer to his brother's question.

I pull them both into a tight hug. "You two can call me whatever you want. The most important thing you need to know is I will always be here for you two."

"And Dad," Mickey teases, grinning.

"Right, Brynn?" Mason tugs on my elbow.

"Miss Schuyler," a deep, familiar voice resonates through the waiting area, tearing me from my conversation with the boys. "You are absolutely ravishing, my dear."

"Oh, Mr. Carter, you old dog," I blush as the tall, older gentleman dressed in a neatly pressed tux approaches us. I embrace him tightly as he gives me a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

"Well, let me take a look at you," he gleefully laughs, taking me by the hand. He twirls me in a circle, the skirt of my dress flouncing out like a dream.  Carter playfully whistles. "Enchanting," he grins, his gray eyes twinkling as his voice grows softer. "You remind me so much of my Evelyn on our wedding day." 

My eyes glisten at the mention of his wife. Unfortunately, she couldn't be with us today. Carter says that she has her 'good days and bad days,' I sense the latter outweighs the former, but still the way he speaks of his wife of forty years is precious, the envy of my dreams and future. 

I offer him a kind smile, trying to blink back the tears, but I can feel my face begin to flush. 

Suddenly, the gentle crescendo of music coming from the chapel notifies us that it's time for the ceremony to start. Carter and I give the boys one more glance, reminding them to walk slowly and to smile. Mickey and Mason hear their cue, and just like we rehearsed, they begin their trek to the altar.

And now... I'm next.

Carter begins to leave to sneak back into his seat, but I grab him by his arm.  I start to fidget with the boutonnière on his lapels. "Mr. Carter, I… I… did you maybe… I don't know–"

He takes my hands in his, calming my trembling fingers. "Miss Schuyler, take a deep breath."

I follow his directions, taking a deep gulp of air. "Jitters, right?" I exhale, fanning myself with my hand. "Perfectly normal, right?"

Carter kindly nods, guiding me slowly to the entrance. "When you step in there, find Mr. Dalton's eyes, and you stay focused on them. That's what helped on our wedding day."

"So you were nervous, too?" I glance down the aisle, noticing the twins are halfway to their spots. I quickly step back, my eyes fluttering closed. "And that helped you?"

He curls his lips endearingly. "It helped Evelyn."

"Really?" My eyes widen. "How?

He smirks as he recalls the memory. "We came from different families, you know? And because of that, she was terrified on what was supposed to be the best day of our lives. Seeking the approval of her parents, her family, even some of her friends… It was a lot of pressure on her."

"Gosh, that must've been hard."

"It was," he nods, "but, she said that on that day, she found my eyes… and they said everything that she needed to know."

My heart swoons at the thought. "She saw the love in your eyes?"

Carter coyly shakes his head.  He must see my confusion because he gives a deep, hearty laugh. "You are a treasure, Miss Schuyler, just like my Evelyn. A man that loves you will look at you as such, not with greed over what he's getting… but with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked, completely devastated without you."

An overwhelming sense of calm washes over me. 

Find his eyes…

You are a treasure…

He sees how much he has to lose…

I squeeze Carter's hands, pulling him into one last embrace. "Thank you so much," my voice hitches. 

He nods affectionately. "You feel ready?" He helps me adjust my veil.

"Almost." I bite my lip, stifling a mischievous grin. "Mr. Carter, do you mind… walking me down the aisle?"

The most handsome smile sweeps across his face as he buttons the jacket of his tux. With his eyes glittering down at me, he offers me his arm. "It would be my honor."

------

Present

"Is everyone freaking out?" He chuckles, extending his arm for me to take his hand. 

I end the call, tossing my phone across the room.  "I… don't care," I snicker. "Probably." Slipping my fingers into his palm, he pulls me to his side, my body crashing into him.  We both tumble back onto the bed, our grunts turning into boisterous laughter, filling our room.

As our bellies begin to ache and we quiet down, I roll off of him, laying down next to him.  We stare at the ceiling, falling into a comfortable silence… that is until I notice him pointing at the textured surface above us.

"What are you doing?"

He chuckles. "When I was little, I used to dream of traveling the world. I tried using my grandpa's old world atlas to map out the perfect trip, and…" He titters, shaking his head with embarrassment, "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"No," I roll onto my side, resting my hand on his chest. "I love it–I love this." I kiss his shoulder. "Keep going."

He rests his hand on mine, softly drawing circles with his thumb. "We had old popcorn ceilings," he chuckles, "kinda like this textured stuff, and so… I'd imagine it was my own world map. And at night, I would plan my–" he deepens his voice like the narrator of a movie trailer, "--international escape."

"Ooooo, show me, James Bond."

I start to giggle as he takes my hand in the air with his, his fingers curling around mine to extend my pointer finger. "Well, over here is us right now in Puerto Vallarta… and…" he moves our hands together, "up here is New York." He starts to blush, shrugging his shoulders.

"How about–" I guide our fingers to another spot, "--London?"

He chuckles. "I'll pack my knickers," he jokes in a British accent.

"And then Paris," I move our hands again.

"Oui oui, mon chéri," he jokes in his poor attempt to sound French, making me bust out into more titters. He guides us once more. "How about Venice?" He points to another area on the ceiling, his voice growing softer. "Or Athens? Or Bali? Hong Kong?"

I brush my nose against his stubbled cheek, whispering in his ear. "And then where?"

He turns towards me, the warmth of his chocolate gaze fluttering to my hungry lips as he places my hand back on his chest. "To the moon and stars?" The air around us begins to crackle, the electricity igniting our nerves as I feel my heart begin to race. I bite my lip, feeling a rosy swirl dance across my cheeks. "Anywhere. Somewhere else. With you."

I can feel his heartbeat thrum hard against my fingertips, the excitement feeding my desire for him.

I love him.

His large hand intimately caresses mine… but then he stops, looking down at my fingers. Feeling the abrupt disconnect, I follow his gaze and quickly notice he's fidgeting with something. 

My ring.

------

Earlier that day…

I thought I knew what I wanted for my wedding day, but in this very moment as Pachelbel's Canon in D romantically announces my arrival, I am overcome with so much emotion as I look around the room. This is everything I ever wanted: to be surrounded by love. My breath shutters as I try to blink away my tears. This… this is absolutely perfect. 

Carter pats my hand gripping tightly to his arm as he walks me graciously down the aisle.  "There he is," he whispers to me, "look at him."

Sam. He's as handsome as ever in his gray suit and petal pink tie. His eyes twinkle, roaming my body as I draw closer to the altar. He offers me that charming Dalton smile, and everything seems to fade away.

It's just you and me, baby… Finally… after everything you put me through– I mean--that we've gone through…

I can do this... I can do this... I can–

Without warning, Sam gradually turns towards his groomsmen. One of his old fraternity brother's has made some kind of comment, causing some of them to crack up. During my procession.

Sam seems to be responding to the joke or comment. He subtly leans over, but after a few seconds, some of the men snicker, covering their faces and Sam chuckles into his fist, feigning a coughing fit.

It's fine, I tell myself.

Getting himself under control, Sam looks back to me with a mischievous glint in his eye before winking at me.

It was just a joke– an inside joke perhaps. Probably to help with his own nerves. It--it's fine. Everything is fine.

Just… stay with me, Sam. Please stay. I need to see your–

The twins lean up against their dad as he rests his hands on their shoulders. Together, they all watch me with doting glances… that is until one of the velvet boxes accidentally falls out of Mickey’s pocket.  In a panic, he bends over to grab the small package, carelessly backing into his brother Mason, knocking off his glasses.

Giving me a crooked smile and shrugging his shoulders, Sam takes a knee to help the boys out, causing endearing chuckles from the audience.

Those two rascals…

I begin to admire my little mess of a family-to-be… until the small hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My pulse, without explanation, begins to race as a bead of sweat courses down the slope of my back.

Something doesn't feel right.

I can't help, but feel… as crazy as it sounds, like there's another pair of eyes on me. Of course, I realize I have over two-hundred guests watching me as I finish my march down the aisle, but this? This isn't the same. This stare… it's different. It's piercing, and intimate. And I feel… seen. Exposed. Preyed.

Looking behind Sam's crouched physique, a pair of deep, chestnut eyes feast on my every move. But rather than being filled with adoration or even his typical lust, there's a hint of sadness in them, as if they're watching a funeral procession rather than a wedding.

And for the first time today, my heart flutters as a fire kindles in my belly.

I make it to the altar, Carter placing my petite hand in my groom's grasp. I can feel the desire in Sam's eyes wandering across my body.  He gives my fingers a squeeze, giving me another adoring wink… but I can't stop looking at him.

Focus, Brynn. Just focus…

Naya gives us a cordial smile before taking the microphone to begin. "Dearly beloved friends and family, we've gathered here today…"

It's no use. I can feel the bile rise in the back of my throat as the room begins to spin. Is it getting hot in here? Or are there just too many people?

As Naya continues, I look back to those haunting eyes, that look of betrayal, that look of devastation… and Carter's words begin to replay in my mind. 'A man that loves you will look at you… with fear because he sees how much he has to lose; he realizes he would be wrecked… without you."

Oh my God… I never noticed this before but… he loves me.

"... speak now," Naya bellows, "or... forever hold your–"

"Wait!" Fuck! What did I just do? The entire congregation starts to quietly murmur amongst one another. Sam clears his throat, his eyebrows furrowing as he adjusts his collar. "I–I'm sorry to interrupt, but… I just… I have a question, and I…" I sigh. "I can't do this–I can't get married unless… I need the answer."

A hush falls over the room, concerned looks are glued on me.

I should just shut up, and go along with this. Isn't that what I've been doing for the past several months anyway with the promise of a happily ever after? Does fairy tale magically happen after we say, 'I do?'

No. In my heart, I know this is the right thing to do. For me.

"Robin?" More whispers erupt behind me as Sam turns back to look at his best man, a pained confusion etching on his handsome features.  "Several weeks ago, we pretended to be the wait staff in a restaurant… to, uh… witness a date." Sam raises an eyebrow, looking between Robin and me. "I asked you a question at the beginning of the night. Do you… do you remember my question?"  

Robin coyly pushes his fists into his slacks, nodding his head. He exhales heavily, his nose rosy pink with unshed emotion.

My vision blurs as hot streams pour down my cheeks, but my attention doesn't leave Robin. "You… you answered, 'Sure. Sometimes…'"  A lump forms in my throat, my timbre growing hoarse. "Tell me, Robin… if I asked you that same question right now, what–what would your answer be?" I choke out a sob, wiping my face with the back of my hands.

He just stares at me. Lost. Dumbfounded. Embarrassed.

I know this wasn't exactly the most opportune time to talk about this, but I also knew this would be our last time to talk about it. Damnit, maybe I was wrong. Carter was wrong. My jitters and my awful gut feeling… wrong.

I look at Sam, his jaw ticking in anger. And he has every right to be. I've made a fool of him, of us. 

But I could've sworn I saw something…

"Sorry, everyone," Sam kindly addresses the audience, "we have a case of the wedding day jitters." He fakes a bright smile, the crowd tittering and cooing. At me. Like I'm a joke. Again. Sam takes my hand, but he refuses to even look at me now. 

Will he ever take me seriously? I... I don't want to get married like this.

Sam clears his throat, nodding to Naya to continue. "Let's try this again," she chuckles, "we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of–"

"I lied," Robin blurts out, inviting the chaos to continue amongst the guests.  He steps forward, pushing himself in front of Sam. "Brynn, you asked me if I ever thought about us–" Gasps and whispers crescendo in the room as Robin takes my hands into his. "And I told you… what I thought you wanted to hear. I mean, for Christ's sake, you swore you were in love with..." The corner of his mouth curls, his eyes bearing it all before me. "I knew better," he mumbles, falling into nervous titters, squeezing tightly to my fingers. "The truth is… Brynn Schuyler... Hell, of course, I think about us. All of the time. I dream of you as my bride. As my wife. As the mother to my children… I've never stopped thinking about us since the moment I first met you–" 

Screams erupt as family members and friends jump to their feet. Naya attempts to holler through her microphone to restore order, but it's too late. Our guests that have come to attend a beautiful, romantic wedding have turned into an ugly, angry mob.

I get lost in the shuffle, unable to recognize anyone around me. My name is being screamed in several directions by several different voices, but it's no use. Terrified, I glance around, looking for a way to safety as everything crumbles around me.

Suddenly, a large hand grabs mine, pulling me through the vocal crowd. As we finally make it to the back of the sanctuary, his lips graze my ear. "Do you trust me?"

A rush of exhilaration floods my veins as my natural smile returns. Are you kidding me? With all my heart.

I nod.

"Don't look back, baby," he chuckles, tucking my arm under his. "Run!"

------

Present

"Do you mind, Miss Schuyler?" He smirks, grabbing my engagement ring on my hand.

I roll my lips, trying to hide my smile as I tilt my head side-to-side. "Not at all, Mr. Flores. Please."

Robin slips the jewelry off of my finger before pressing his lips to my now bare knuckle. It was so simple, yet the gesture so intimate; I was finally free. 

This man…

Pulling me into his arms, he tosses the ring over his shoulder, an abrupt clink hitting the wall. With his handsome crooked smile, he leans towards me. "Don't worry," he chuckles, "I made him buy the insurance."

"Robin!" I squeal before our mouths meet in a tender kiss.

"What?" He pulls back, cupping my cheek. "I had a feeling."

"A feeling?" I snicker, raising an eyebrow. "That it wasn't going to work out?"

"Ehh, more .." He brushes his thumb across my lips, a serious expression growing across his face. "That you were the one. For me."

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