#she didn't mention almonds ANYWHERE

[greyias]

A while back, I signed up for the mailing list of this one recipe website mostly for little recipes to be delivered into my inbox. And over the past few months, instead of recipes being delivered to my inbox, I'm getting absolutely unhinged food blogging world drama. And I keep meaning to post about it, because as a true outsider to whatever the hell this is, it's absolutely bonkers that I'm witnessing this slow moving trainwreck, but then I get distracted and forget to post.

But some of the highlights include:

she (food blogger) is currently in the middle of some sort of litigation with someone she partnered with to make some food product that hit store shelves?

the emails started as really bizarre vagueblogging that to someone uninitiated in whatever the fuck is going on, sounds completely unhinged

the food blog's author is like really into Harry Potter (yes in 2023 😬). Like whatever you're thinking, it's more than that

this is only relevant because every time she talks about this ex-business partner, she makes extensive HP analogies, references, and memes. Yes the ex-business partner is somehow every single HP antagonist, sometimes a dementor, depending on the week

Sometimes the e-mail subjects actually sound like it has to do with food (today's was "overproofed sourdough"), to the utterly baffling (I no longer want to be (just) your "almond mom")

Usually once per e-mail she has a random aside of "dear reader you must be confused" (which yes), but then goes to say something that only leaves me with more questions

I think this actually started like late last year when the ex-business partner somehow got ahold of this food blogger's mailing list, because I have this vague memory of getting some WTF e-mail regarding this food business from the other person and be like "Who the hell is this? Report spam" and moved on with my day?

I have not unsubscribed, because even though it's largely incomprehensible and I have no idea what's happening, I still reach for an imaginary popcorn bucket to read the latest inscrutable text. And I know all of the above was incomprehensible, but I wanted to share just a small slice of the confusion gracing my inbox every few weeks.

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ their voicelines for you; part 2...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

part I┊part III┊part IIII┊part IIIII

FEAT... xiao, kokomi, yoimiya, diluc, thoma

✧ xiao.

"can you have some? *he scoffs* no, no you can't. [name] made this specially for me, therefore i will be the one eating it. yes, [name] made it for me, is that a problem? no-one in all of teyvat makes almond tofu better than them- what?! *he chokes, further emphasising his shock* b-blushing?! no! no no, an adeptus would never blush at such a... such a pathetic thing as this... how could you even think that for a second"

✧ kokomi.

"ah yes, [name]... such a coincidence you brought up their name. *she smiles gently at the mention of your name* they fought valiantly for watatsumi island, and we all will forever be in their debt. hm? why of course, i am quite fond of the traveller- i mean... not- not in that way i just- we are merely... *she stutters, searching for a suitable answer* we are close friends. yes, that is all. now, if you'll excuse me, there are some important documents i must read. nice save..."

✧ yoimiya.

"[name]! [name]~ where are you? *she sighs to herself, spinning on the spot before running in a random direction* you're gonna miss the fireworks if you don't hurry up! i- oh, traveller! *she pants, holding her knees and trying to catch her breath* hey, you haven't seen [name] around, have you? i can't find them anywhere! w- why i'm looking for them? well... i uhm- we were meant to watch the fireworks at my favourite spot b- but if they don't show up, there's no way we'll get there in time!!! *she sighs to herself* i really wanted to watch the fireworks with them... i watch them with those who are special to me, and they... they are really special to me... what? n- no! it's nothing- i- well... uh- i- i'd better keep looking, see you around, traveller!"

✧ diluc.

"charles, don't serve him. *he pinches his nose bridge and sighs* dear archons... venti, this is your third bottle of dandelion wine. no, no venti, you're drunk- venti- *he sighs once more* how i wish [name] was here... oh, t- traveller! i didn't hear you come in- w- what do you mean? *he chuckles nervously* no, i wasn't talking about [name], i was just trying to get a certain someone out my tavern. i- no- fine. in all seriousness, i was talking about [name]... i just wish they were here to- no, no no not like that- travelller... traveller, where are you going? traveller! don't you dare! i swear to- and i wondered why they wanted to keep our relationship a secret..."

✧ thoma.

"oh, traveller! what a nice surprise, i didn't expect to see you at the kamisato estate any time soon, what brings you here? *his eyes widen ever so slightly* [name]? *he stutters over your name* y- yes, what about them? you seem awefully serious... w- what?! they're hurt?! shit shit shit i- whe- do you know where they are? i- no, no i'm fine, i'm fine... well, yes, of course i care about them, we're- you know what- here, would you mind holding these for me? thanks-i'll-be-right-back! *he shouts over his shoulder as he practically sprints away to find you* that was close... now where in teyvat are they?!"

part I┊part III┊part IIII┊part IIIII

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[mori-is-here]

𝗥𝗣 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚

//This is my rp clog!! I mean obviously...here I'll be doing Marvel rp. Whether it's sweet, silly or serious. NO NSFW!!. Mod and this oc are both minors :) Be sensitive, I don't tolerate racism, islamophobia, xenophobia, transphobia, homophobia and any other disrespectful actions/words. Also TW. This oc has abusive and homophobic parents. It wont be mentioned a lot but be warned.

Follows and likes will be from -> @m3vl0vesu

! I don't own any Marvel character but I do own Morona as my oc!//

--Character Info--

APPERANCE:

Eyes-> Her eyes are a Really dark brown, they almost look empty. When she isn't smiling they look like a dark void, tired. Eyes too tired for her age. They're an almond shape, they contribute to her rbf.

Skin-> Tan/brown a deep tan. She has a few beauty spots, one under her right eyes, one under her lip and a dark one on her left ear. She hates them.

Hair-> Naturally dark brown and wavy, but she's dyed it black. If you somehow get hand on her childhood photos her hair is always long. But now it's short, just above her shoulders. She hates when it goes long, sometimes you might catch her cry if it gets too long. Something between a pixie cut and a wolf cut.

Height-> 5'3 (160 cm)

GENERAL INFO:

Middle name: Mehvish Last name: u̷n̷k̷n̷o̷w̷n̷ First name: Morona

She hates being called her first name, Mori is okay but only if she truly trusts you. The nickname 'Mev' is derived from her middle name, one given to her by her biological sister. Never Morona.

Age:15

Birth date: 21-04 (21st of April)

Ethnicity: Indian

Sexuality-> Don't ask, she'll get defensive.

Gender-> She/her...?

Favourite colour: Green Hobbies: Painting, sleeping, picking her skin, reading and gardening!

She has this baseball bat. It has many nails on it, it's her favourite thing in the world. She never goes anywhere without it, she even has a name for it, 'Darla'. And there is one rule. Don't. Touch. Darla.

FAMILY + FRIENDS

Bio Dad (@youraselfishbrat-morona): She doesn't like him. He's the main reason for her running away. He's the main reason why she's kind of scared of guys. He's the main reason why she has nightmares. He's the one of the reasons she grew up too fast. No contact Bio Mom: She still deeply cares for her mother, she feels consumed by guilt for leaving her. But is also deeply upset that her mother didn't treat her fair. Barely in contact. Just a few letters and texts here and there

Adoptive Dad (@daniel-barnes-the-ghost): She loves her adoptive dad. Even if she doesn't feel like proper family, she know that he isn't a bad father and that he tries. Equally loves his Ghost part of him, even if he is a little scary. Bio siblings: She feels the worst about leaving them, sometimes she'll reach out in her sleep only to remember that they're not there. Sometimes there's a voice in her head telling her they're in danger. But they're not. No contact. They will never be treated like she was, sometimes the thought hurts but...they're safe. Why just them?

Adoptive siblings: @ireallyliketacosokay @diana-astra @ghostblade-official

//tell me if I forgot any//

Friends: She believes no-one likes her enough to be her friend. She's too scary. Except for Darla and @nobodies-sonor-soldier, even if she doesn't admit it. :)

PERSONALITY:

She's cold at first, but once she's attached she's attached. It's why she likes to push people away, but like the big sister she is she loves taking care of people.

Comforting is one of her good traits. But to show affection she's sometimes a bit mean, insults people. Especially if your a man, or reminds her of her dad. Then she's outright hostile. It's all a hard shell, what's not fake is her anger. Once she's angry she's angry, hitting, screaming. She doesn't like it but being raised the way she was it happens. She swears a bit too much, a mouth that could easily get her in trouble. And it did

Another thing about her is that she gets tired very easily, something she denies but it's very obvious. If you want her to go away or be sad (why would you?) then put her near someone drinking alcohol or a smoker. She most likely will be reduced to tears ;) Other than that she can be surprisingly mature for her age, but then not. She grew up parenting her siblings and it deeply affected her going forward. Her needs aren't important-pft of course not!

BACKSTORY She's a runaway, someone who escaped. A family that didn't really care for her, they saw her as a machine. One that they should've hid, one that didn't belong. She was a monster, a mutant. She was a genetic mishap, no one in the family had the X-gene so why did she? Just their luck...just their luck. It started to show at the age of nine, that's when she felt more tired. Barely keeping her head up in the afternoon, it wasn't normal. Whenever she had any strong emotion her nails, turned sharp as claws sadly they couldn't protect her. It was odd since they didn't really relate to her 'powers'. Anyway. She was being drugged, by her own father. People played a fair price for Mutant blood. Experiments, needles, relentless screams. She woke up with bad bruises all over her body, it was always confusing for her young ind. On her thirteenth birthday she found out, forgetting to take her 'meds' she saw what these strangers were doing. Every dinner she took her medicine, it was for her 'health', no it wasn't. Experiments? really? Was that all she was? She was a fucking lab rat. She would never forget that night. Never. With the use of her mutation and powers, and the fact that no one gave a damn about her, she ran away. And never looked back. It's been two years now. For two years she had no home, no one to call home. There were parks she want to, things she did for money. Sometimes the safest but most dangerous places were the bars, but at least it wasn't that house. Powers: Her nails/claws. She has them under control now though, but they're tough and sharp. They grow from her natural nails, sometimes causing the skin around her nails to tear and bleed. They look animalistic if they're out of control.

Element transformation: She can change something into another, as long as it has similar properties/size and or weight. It's useful when wanting to change out some mouldy bread to a fresh bread! It was a lot of help when she didn't have a home. And recently she could trick people, illusions. Though they were weak, they were useful.

AESTHETIC:

[dolan-sensations]

SUNLIT SENSATIONS | the first ray of sunlight

how Grayson and Caily met

As bright and nice as it was in Los Angeles that day was definitely not Grayson's day. His own personal sky covered by dark clouds. He's been sitting in front of his  computer for hours, trying to finish editing the last video he and his twin brother filmed. He was almost done when suddenly and for no reason the power went out, ruining all the process he had made during the past hours. As annoyed as he was he did his best trying to fix it and redoing all his work. At this point his back was sore and his stomach was roaring for some food, lunch time had passed a long time ago but it was still too early to have dinner. An avocado toast, you can't go wrong with that no matter what time it is, so he headed to the kitchen to get the breather he well-deserved. But, once again, it was not Grayson's day.

"Yo, E." "Weren't you going to the grocery store today?" The younger twin raised his voice, making sure his brother could hear him from the living room. "Weren't you doing the groceries today?" 

"Holly shit I forgot."

"Ethan." He spetted, clearly annoyed at his twin brother who not only finished all the avocados but he also forgot about doing the grocery and after a short fight, more like a speech from Grayson, on housework and responsabilities, he was heading to the grocery store to get his much needed avocados.

Did I mention today wasn't Grayson's day? Because after driving for almost 20 minutes to the store he found out there were no avocados left. He left out a sight, frustrated, but he was hungry still so he walked through the isles, trying to find something appetizing but also vegan.

Meanwhile in the milk isle there she was, looking up to the top shelf, where the lactose-free milk was sitting. There was just one problem, she couldn't reach it. She thought about climbing the shelf to get it, but she knew how clumsy she was and she was almost certain the whole shelf would fall down. She also thought about jumping until she could reach it, yeah she would look ridiculous but she would get her milk. And she was about to do it, when someone walked  to the milk isle. 

"Excuse me!" She said, trying to get the attention of the boy that was walking in her direction, too busy with his phone in one hand and holding a cereal box in the other. When she glanced at him she felt like time stopped. The guy was handsome to say the least, a real life Disney prince, or the greek God Apollo in bone and flesh, those were the only two ways that came to her mind to describe the boy, probably her age or so, that was standing in front of her. He looked up from his screen, the frown that's been adorning his face for the past few hours disappearing at the sight of her.

He didn't answer, God he probably even forgot how to speak, he could only look at those dark brown eyes that reminded him of his favorite chocolate from when he was a child. Was she even talking to him? No, there was no way, that was not his day, a literal angel was in front of him, that couldn't be real, no. He only got out of his trance state when he heard her voice once again. "Excuse me, can you help me? I can't reach the lactose-free milk." His eyes were not lying to him, she was in fact real.

 "Oh, yeah, of course." He said, already reaching for the milk, looking at the bottle when he had it in his hand. "Lactose-free milk? I've never heard of that, who even buys that?  Have you tried almond? Oat?" He questioned in a funny tone, not trying to be rude or laught at her, no, that was his poor and failed attempt to flirt with the beautiful woman who asked him for help.

But when he turned to the girl, her sweet expression was long forgotten, her dark brows coming together in a frown. Was he really making fun of her and her taste? Grayson's face just dropped, realizing what he just did. He got stunned by her and he tried to be funny and flirty but clearly he fucked up. It just wasn't his day. "I buy THAT. Thank you." She responded with a cold tone before walking away from him, not giving him any chance to explain himself or apologize.

—

It's been almost a week since his little incident at the grocery store, yet he couldn't stop thinking about that girl. It's known that he's the twins that falls in love 7 times per day, but this time? No, this time was different. He only  saw her for like two minutes but her face was already tattooed on his brain. He would be lying if he said he didn't drive himself to that same store every single day hoping to see her again. And that's where he was right now, in the parking lot of that same store, sitting in the passenger seat of Ethan's Tesla ready to leave. 

But then he saw it, fuck, he would recognize that hair anywhere. "Dude, what the f-" Ethan questioned the second his younger twin brother stepped out of the car without saying a word, running towards the car of the girl who was about to leave.

"Hey! Wait, please!" She turned around to see the guy who made fun of her, the fucking greek god she met a few days ago and quite frankly she couldn’t get off of her mind was running to her, so she quickly jumped in her car and Grayson lost all hope for a second, but it quickly came back to him when she didn't close the door, she just sat there, looking at him with an impassive look on her face. 

He got a little intimidated by that, her dark eyes piercing his sou. Was it possible for a stare to be that intense? Apparently yes, but he fucked up once and he was not willing to do it again. "I'm so sorry about the other day. I was just stressed and nothing was going my way and then I saw you looking all kinds of pretty and cute and I tried to be funny because you lit my day and made it so much better by just asking me for help but...fuck. I was a jerk, okay? I know it. It wasn't my intention, but I don't know how to act in front of pretty girls and I-" 

His rambling was suddenly cut off by a laugh, a soft one coming from her lips while she tried to hide her face with her hair. Oh my God did he make her blush? "It's okay, I was a little bit of a bitch too. I'm sorry." Yep, he made her blush. And that was exactly what he needed to boost his confidence.

“So...would you like to-" And once again he was cut off, only this time not by the gorgeous girl in front of him, but by his annoying twin brother who was honking at him. Grayson turn to look at him, and she couldn't help but laugh softly again seeing how frustrated the poor guy was getting. She quickly grabbed her phone and handed it to him, catching his attention. "Here, text you from my phone."

 He took the phone in complete shook, SHE was asking for his number and he froze for another few seconds until he heard another honk, and this time he was kinda thankful for it because it brought him back to reality. So he started typing pretty fast, adding himself to her contacts and then sending a text message to himself, giving back her phone to..."Wait, what's your name?" "Caily, but not like Kylie Jenner, with a C and an A"

"Okay, Caily with a C and an A. Okay." He repeated with the stupidest (and cutest if you ask Caily) grind on his face walking towards his brother's car, who was honking at him for the third time. "Oh and I am-" 

"Grayson" She completed his sentence, reading his name out of her phone screen with a smile. He already loved how his name sounded when it came from her lips. He waved her goodbye and got in Ethan's car with the biggest smile on his face, one that not even his brother could erase with his pettiness.

Suddenly Grayson’s personal sky was not grey anymore, since a tiny ray of sunlight was making its way through the dark clouds, the first of so many.

tags: @justordinaryjen, @ethandolxns & @persistence-ofmemories for the inspo ❤️

it's shitty and cheesy af but that's who i am, sorry

[bangtanfancamp]

the Devil wears Gucci-Part 3

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Masterlist

▪︎series Masterlist

▪︎Kim Taehyung x reader(featuring Kim Namjoon)

▪︎1.7k words

•Enemies to lovers au, fashion industry au, loosely devil wears Prada au, f*ckboy au, fluff, romance, angsty banter

As the dedicated personal assistant of the genius mind behind House of RM, the empire that rules the fashion industry, your world is turned upside down the day Namjoon personally asks you to train his newest hire- the eternally insufferable opposite Kim Taehyung.

(Not my photo. Credit to vantaeholic)

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(Tae’s lunch || Tae’s POV)

I used one of my fries to poke the others around my plate, trying to figure out how I’d screwed this up all ready. I know I tend to joke around a lot, but it always seems to put women at ease. Things go better when they’re laughing. And whose day isn’t better for being flirted with?

I just had to work for the one girl who got pissed off by it. Everyone likes me. So what was the problem? Even the women at the cafeteria here liked having me smile at them or tell them how beautiful they were. Women liked that kind of attention, right?

Everyone goes through their day trying to impress the world around them, but everyone else is so wrapped up in themselves that they never even see them. I see it. I see how long the girl who took my order spent trying to cover up her freckles with her makeup, so I told her how cute they were. I saw how tired the woman who gave me my change was so I told her how much her eyes sparkled in this light. I noticed how nervous that cute girl across the office was so I smiled at her. What was so wrong with that?

Why did ____ have to look so disgusted with me all the time? I was just having fun. Life is hard enough anyway. People want to laugh. People want to be told they look good. And so what if I get a date out of it or someone invites me home. We’re all adults and we’re allowed to have fun. No one needs to be that serious all the time. And God, she worships that maniac, doesn’t she?

She got so mad when I mentioned it though. I thought girls liked talking about their crushes, but... maybe ____ is more private than I thought. Maybe I took it too far. It’s just so infuriating how she talks about him. She’s just so wrapped up in praising god Kim Namjoon- she made it so obvious that she had a thing for that egomaniac. I thought she’d finally laugh with me or at the very least blush and elbow me in the ribs, but she looked….i don’t know. She looked hurt. I think I crossed a line I didn’t mean to.

God, it’s barely been a day and I’d wrecked the only good part of this job. I noticed her the second I walked into that office. She got to me in 2 seconds flat. That hair, those legs, the way that skirt hit her curves- it made want to wrap my hands around those hips and bend her right over that jerk’s desk. God. I was already gone the second I laid eyes in her...

But then when she looked at me and I saw her face….she was beautiful. She’s quick and clever and obviously good at what she does. Everyone here seems to get along with her. I like ____. Honestly, she seems pretty cool. She’s just stuck on that douchebag. But hey, some girls are are really into that whole power and authority kink. Who am I to judge?

I just didn’t think there’d be any harm being vocal about things since everyone seems to think I won’t last here very long anyway. Might as well shoot my shot while I can, right ?

I slid my hips down in my seat and raked my hands through my hair. This place would never be my first choice, but it didn’t seem that bad, I guess.

There were things I’d much rather be doing with my time, but I’d do it for my mom. Anything for her. My stupid uncle in her ear caused this whole mess. At the end of the day, all of this was his fault for meddling in my life anyway.

Chin propped in my hands, I looked out the hundredth set of floor to ceiling windows I’d seen today wondering how long I’d even have this view when movement in the corner of the room caught my eye. It was ____. I felt myself starting to smile just because she was here. Maybe we could get on the right foot now and she’d loosen up a li-wait. She looked like- like she’d been crying. The skin beneath her eyes was puffy, and the light she’d had around her earlier seemed.... dimmer. Her teeth were clenched, her chin set extra high as she walked my way, white knuckling the tablet in her hands. She looked pissed. But calmly so, which was honestly scarier.

Crap, I really stepped in it this time, didn’t I?

I quickly scrambled to stand up from the table, but she pulled out a chair instead and sat down beside me. Folding her fingers together on the tabletop, she cleared her throat and looked up at me, challenge and grit lacing her gaze.

“Have a seat please, Mr. Kim.”

For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to say, so I followed her instructions.

“I’m glad to see you retained enough information from our tour to have been able to find this place. That’s a good sign at least. If you already have the layout down, I’ll brief you on what a basic day here looks like. Tomorrow Namjoon will be returning from a charity gala in Miami. On a typical morning, he is to be greeted with his hot coffee of choice, typically an extra hot hazelnut latte with an extra shot of espresso. Not two shots. Not three. Just one. Trust me, he’ll know. He despises soy milk and has an almond allergy so no fancy milks unless you’d like to be wearing it as an accessory for the rest of your day. Now that is a normal day, however, when he returns from a red eye flight, he expects to be promptly greeted with the first step of the juice cleanse from the Buddha bliss juice bar down on 7th so he is not visibly puffy during any press work for the day….”

She rattled on like this in detail for the next 15 minutes and it finally started to sink in who the real power at house of RM was-_____. Sure Namjoon pulled the big levers, but she made sure he never fell apart and that seemed like a super power all by itself. She knew every like, dislike, allergy, pet schedule, dry cleaner, exercise schedule, person to kiss up to, person to avoid...And she knew every contingency to tweak things for so he didn’t go off the rails and downsize half a department for their assumed incompetency just because he was sleep deprived and jet lagged off a red eye after being dumped by his latest high profile fling.

Not gonna lie- it was extremely impressive. And kind of hot. I don’t know if I’d ever seen a girl that strategic and smart. She really knew what she was doing. How she managed to be three steps ahead of the world's youngest self made man was a fearsome thing to see. The way she analyzed all these situations made me wonder if she was analyzing me too, but I didn't think on that for too long. She didn’t romanticize him this time. I noticed that. Just laid out all the facts as they were and how to troubleshoot for all of them. It was like watching a master explain chess strategies, and I respected it.

But at the same time, it made me wonder. Just how much of a man-sized brat was Namjoon? it was kind of disgusting how much the man needed to be coddled honestly. How easily everyone accommodated his massive ego. It definitely didn’t help me hate him any less.

“So!” She resolved, tapping a stack of papers against the tabletop to level them out.

“I realize that was probably an onslaught, but you have to dive straight into the deep end to stay ahead here. Any questions?”

“Yeah, just one: what time do you get here every day?” I leaned forward on my elbows, searching her face. She seemed caught off guard by my question, quickly trying to rearrange her expression after feeling like she’d been in control for our entire conversation.

“Just before 7am. I try to beat Namjoon here so I can prepare things for the day. It doesn’t always work though. It’s almost like he sleeps here sometimes.”

“And what time do you go home?”

“On paper? 6pm. In reality? I’d say typically 10 on a good night. Somewhere between 11 and midnight on his particularly temperamental days.”

Holy crap. Was she serious? “Last question.”

“Okayyy…” she pulled back from the table, body language screaming discomfort about where I might be going.

“So, if you’re here- how many days a week?”

“Five.” She answered succinctly, tone clipped. “Unless we’re approaching a deadline for a project- then weekends become mandatory too.” Jesus.

“And any holidays?” I add. Her gentle face is steely and guarded. I wouldn’t trust me right now either, dollface.

“Of course not. But there often is more work to be done than that accommodates so I usually come in anyway.”

“Uh huh. Right. So! Let me get this straight- you know what? for your sake, let’s even round down some. Let’s say, you’re here six days a week, working anywhere from 11-15 hour days. At minimum, you’re working well over at least 15-20 hours of overtime PER week with no vacations— which is not only unethical, it’s illegal. All for the glorious empire of Kim Namjoon. So. Riddle me this-when do you ever get to live your own life?”

Silence.

She dipped and furrowed her eyebrows at me. I could see her lashes fluttering as she scrambled overtime to come up with a defensive answer for me. I settled back in my seat, arms draped behind my head, knowing in some weird way, that I had won.

“You’re beautiful. You’re young. This can’t possibly be the way you want to spend all your time. Tell me-When was the last time you slept in til the sun woke you up? The last time you had a Netflix marathon in a grubby old T-shirt with dorito stains on your fingers and a giant glass of wine? Or! even went out on actual date for that matter? Why are you here wasting your 20’s away in this place running Namjoons company for him and getting none of the credit?”

She gaped, beautiful mouth struggling open and shut like a fish freshly yanked out of the water. I couldn’t tell if she was furious with me or just lost. It didn’t look like she’d ever asked herself that before.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll do my job here. I’ll do what you ask. But do me a favor and think about that. It’d be such a shame to see so much beautiful potential go to waste.” I pushed off from the table to stand. I felt my chest swell- I had the upper hand again. “Now, I believe you mentioned something earlier about finding me a desk space upstairs. Shall we get started on that? I’ll need a pleasing environment if I’m expected to slug through all of Namjoon’s nonsense on a daily basis. The closer to you, the better.” I started to walk away, not waiting for her but knowing in my gut she’d follow. She wasn’t the only one allowed to have a mic drop moment.

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Part 4

Series masterlist

Thank you guys so much for reading til the end and visiting my little corner of the internet. I am SO excited about where this series is going. I started writing one of the last chapters first and have been going backwards to figure out what happened to get us there and- you guys- I can’t wait for you to see!! Should I try to come up with a regular upload schedule?? Let me know. ✨

[managedmischiefs]

told you so//tom holland

warnings: fainting, hospitals, IV, malnourishment, talk of Heath Ledger and his death, sad boi Tom

///

inspired by tom's insta story where he thanked fans for his teen choice award win

///

Tom is always dedicated to his work and will do whatever he can to make the audience believe his character. He works endless hours on his lines, on understanding his character, and getting into the mindset of his role. But something he always dedicated a large amount of time to is his weight.

Spider-Man is an incredibly physical role. Tom was on set and doing stunts every day. He needed the muscle to support that, and he had to keep his weight constant so that his suit fit him and he didn't cause a giant problem for the wardrobe department.

But for Cherry, he's playing a veteran that is riddled with PTSD. He studied up on the disorder and discovered the effect it has on the human body, and decided that he needed to lose some of his muscle and drop some weight.

He didn't tell me this flat out though. I noticed him eating less and less over a week, after a particularly long and in depth production meeting. He decreased breakfast from a full meal to just a protein shake, and refused dinner on most days and replaced it with a workout at the gym. To say this new diet scares me is an understatement.

I'm not an actor. I don't completely understand his world. But I've been dating Tom for a few years, and I know enough to recognize that weight changing is a common practice in Hollywood. But just because it's common doesn't mean that it's right. I've heard horror stories in the media of certain roles burning out actors and ruining their lives, and that is the last thing I want to happen to Tom.

I watch as Tom comes sauntering into the kitchen, passing me with nothing but a kiss to my cheek and a whispered good morning, his voice gravely with sleep. I'm up early to study for an upcoming exam, papers already sprawled out on the island.

I sneakily watch as Tom pulls out ingredients such as protein powder, bananas, and peanut butter, then the blender. "Are you, uh-" I huff out a breath, looking down at my textbook, trying to make the conversation more nonchalant, "gonna have more than just a shake?"

"Don't think so," Tom murmurs as he starts slicing the banana. "I'm on this diet still, you know that." I open my mouth to respond but chose not to say anything, just shaking my head and deciding to drop the subject again. "What?" Tom quips after a moment of silence. "You have something else to say. I know you. Don't lie, you've got something to say."

I drop my highlighter and swing around on my barstool to face him. "Tommy, I'm just nervous about this diet, okay? I know that it's working and you're losing weight and muscle like you want to, but I'm just nervous how this is gonna affect your body and your health in the future. The last thing I want to happen is for this to ruin you."

Tom drops the banana in his hand and rushes over, placing his hands on my cheeks. "This isn't gonna ruin me. I'm okay, yeah? I'm completely fine. I'm just twenty pounds lighter. That's all."

My eyes widen and I grab onto his thinning wrists. "You've lost twenty pounds? Baby, that's too much. That's way too much! You told me ten pounds at first and I said that was too much, but twenty? That's too much!"

"It's not too much. I'm healthy, I promise." Tom swears, leaning his head forward and kissing my forehead. "We're only a week into shooting and the Russo's said everything looks great."

"I don't give a shit what the Russo's think. I care about you and your health-"

Tom huffs out a breath and drops his hands. "I am fine. You don't need to worry about me. My trainer says I'm fine, the medic on set says I'm fine, everyone agrees that I'm fine. I've only got another two months of this diet and then I'll have to bulk up for the next Avengers movie and I'll be back to the way I was before." He turns around and quickly finishes off his protein shake, putting it in a cup and closing the lid. "I'll see you tonight, okay? Good luck on your exam, I know you'll crush it."

He's kissing me and he's out the door before I can say anything else. Okay, so, that conversation didn't go anywhere close to what I had planned.

I pack up my books and head off to class for my exam, which is actually quite difficult. Or maybe I was just too busy thinking (worrying) about Tom to focus on a test. I guess I'll never know.

After my exam, I hurry off to my study of human behaviors class, hoping that today's topic will distract me from worrying about how my boyfriend is doing on set. But, of course, that hope is crushed when my professor pulls up a picture of Heath Ledger.

"Today we're going to be talking about Heath Ledger, and how his preparation for the role of the Joker effected him. Some believe the intense preparation even added to his death." She saunters around the front of the room without a care in the world, babbling on and on about how Ledger got into his character by locking himself in a hotel room and keeping a dark diary, filled with quotes, pictures, and his lines.

"Ledger was so deep into his character that he turned to medication to help him do things as simple as sleeping. Maggie Gyllenhaal even said that she could barely look at him while filming, and the crew was too nervous to be around him between takes because he would still be in character. So I pose this question to you all, did his dedication to his role and the extreme preparation for this role lead to his death?"

Oh god. Please no. This is exactly what I don't need to hear right now. Not today. Not while Tom is filming Cherry and I can't be with him at all times. Not when I get one text a day from him since he's so busy shooting scenes. Not ever.

Multiple hands shoot up to respond to the professors question. She picks a bubbly blonde in the front row. "His preparation definitely led to his death. He pushed himself too far and he couldn't handle the pressure of the movie, the pressure of stardom, the pressure of the Joker being so engrained in his mind. He couldn't shake it when filming ended, and it truly made him become some version of a psychopath."

Another student butts in. "Yeah, it's so obvious. He turned to drugs because he couldn't handle the role."

One other adds his opinion. "It's like Natalie Portman in Black Swan. She had to lose all this weight so she ate almonds and carrots for, like, months on end. And then she was in rehearsals all day and she dislocated a rib, but kept training. She said she thought she was gonna die on most days. It's very possible for actors to get so wrapped up in role that they lose a bit of reality. I totally think Heath Ledger died because of the Joker."

With that last student, I pick up my backpack and laptop and go stomping out of the lecture hall, choking back tears. I dramatically throw my belongings into my car and speed off, wiping my cheeks and trying to keep my emotions together.

I park in the first spot I see and jump out of my car, heading off to Tom's trailer, hoping that he'll be there, although the chances are slim. I've only been to Tom's trailer for Cherry once, and it was the first week of him filming. It's been lived in now, so I'm sure it looks quite different.

I hadn't expected his trailer to be a complete mess. At home, Tom is a little messy but always cleans up after himself. He clearly hasn't cleaned or let anyone clean up after him. There's clothes and shoes all over the floor and furniture, the sheets are messed up on the bed like he's been tossing and turning while sleeping, and the kitchen area is a complete wreck. There's a pile of papers and books on the coffee table that I make the terrible decision to investigate.

Having PTSD just messes up your whole life. I couldn't even get the energy to clean my house, or even my room, or my kitchen, or anything. I would throw things around and I would break things and just leave them. PTSD left me completely unable to function as a human. I couldn't sleep. How would I be expected to clean up after myself when I'm falling asleep standing?

Of course, his trailer like this is to keep himself in the character. I wonder if his costars can stand to look at him between takes.

The trailer door opens a moment later and I'm wishing it's Tom, but it's Harrison coming in, nonchalantly kicking a shoe aside to get to the fridge. "Oh hey, didn't know you were coming by. Tom didn't mention it."

"Is Tom gonna die?" I blurt out, my eyes pooling up with tears. Harrison's eyes widen at the wild question. "I'm scared he's gonna die. He's so into this character and he's gonna die, isn't he?"

"Oh my gosh, breathe, love. Tom isn't gonna die. Where are you getting this from?" Harrison takes a few steps closer to me, but it doesn't comfort me in any way.

"He's not eating, Harrison. I've seen him make food but I haven't seen him actually eat anything in almost a month. He's dealing with this disgusting trailer every day. I barely ever see him because he comes home and either goes straight to sleep or he's out at the gym until I'm asleep."

"Maybe you should talk to him." Harrison suggests. "Honestly, I'm worried about him too and I think you're the only person he'll listen to. You just gotta learn to keep your cool." He places his hands on my shoulders. "Why don't you go home and get some rest? I think you're just as tired as he is because you're stressing about it. I'll make sure that Tom goes straight home instead of going out, okay?"

I throw my arms around Harrison's waist in a much needed hug. "Thank you, Haz. You're the best."

"Yeah, I know I am." Harrison jokes with a shrug, letting me go. "Go, get out."

///

Tom doesn't come home for a while, not until I'm laying in bed, eyelids fluttering, ready to sleep. But the bedroom door creaks open, letting in a little bit of light. I listen as Tom bustles around the room to pull off his clothes, leaving him in just boxers for bed. He climbs into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I sigh contently, melting into his embrace.

"How was your day?" I murmur, sleep slurring my words.

"It was fine. Go to sleep, you're exhausted." Tom whispers, placing lazy kisses to the back of my neck. "I love you."

///

The next morning is normal. Tom wakes up before me and takes a shower, leaving me alone in bed. But I get up and throw on a comfy sweater, preparing for my day of classes. Tom is heading downstairs as I'm pulling on my leggings, presumably for breakfast.

But just as I'm finishing brushing out my hair, I hear a relatively loud thump from downstairs. I immediately pause, listening for a yelled sorry from Tom, just anything.

"Tom?" I shout, creeping towards the open bedroom door. When I don't hear anything in response, I panic. I run downstairs and into the kitchen, finding the worst sight I could think of.

Tom is unconscious on the floor, a spot of blood on his forehead, and a whole slew of food on the stove. I drop to my knees, pushing Tom's hair out of his forehead. I reach onto the island and grab Tom's phone, unlocking it and dialing 999. I babble off to the operator that my boyfriend fainted when I was in the other room and I don't know exactly what happened, but that he's unconscious. She promises that an ambulance is two minutes away, that I should keep calm, and not move him.

I put the phone on speaker as I wait, setting it on the floor. And just as I do, Tom starts to stir, his eyebrows scrunching up and his head starting to swivel. I lean over him and place a hand on his cheek, forcing a smile, despite his closed eyes. "Hi, sweetheart. Hi, baby." I coo softly, my thumb rubbing across the skin. "Stay right where you are, okay?"

"What happened?" He murmurs, words slurred.

"I think you fainted. There's an ambulance coming, just don't move, baby boy, you'll be okay." I instruct him.

"Work." He whispers, head falling to the side.

"Don't worry about work. I'll call someone later on and tell them. You don't worry about that right now, okay? Just relax, I've got you."

The paramedics come knocking at the front door a moment later, sending me running over to answer it. I lead the paramedics over to where Tom is still laying in the kitchen, watching the paramedics lift him onto the stretcher and strap him in.

Tom reaches for me, making me rush over to his side. I place a hand on his cheek, moving my thumb against his soft skin, giving him a smile. "I'm right here, Tommy. Do you want me to call Harrison, or your mum or dad? Anyone?" Tom just nods, so I assume he wants someone. "Do you want me to come in the ambulance with you?" He nods again. "Okay, then I'm gonna go get some stuff and get right in there with you." He nods a third time, eyes closing all the way now.

I rush around the house in just a few seconds, pulling on a sweatshirt. I collect a backpack with a sweats for Tom, our wallets, our phones, chargers, money, and whatever I can find that we could need.

Tom is just being loaded into the ambulance when I go to lock the door and jump inside. I'm exiled to the corner while the paramedics start working on Tom, leaving me to send out texts to his family to tell them what's going on.

I'm with him every step of the way. I'm there as he rides to the hospital, I'm there as he gets brought right into a room, and I'm there as a doctor comes in to see him. But I'm pushed out a moment later to fill out paperwork, and I have to be separated from Tom.

I rush my way through the paperwork so I can get back to Tom. He would never leave me alone if I was in this situation, and I don't plan to do that to him. So I return the clipboard to a nurse and she leads me back to a different waiting room.

"You can just stay here until the doctor comes around to get you." I nod but have to hold in my groan. I just want to be with Tom.

I sit down and decide to check my phone, finding a few texts. Nikki and Dom says that the whole family is on their way, and Harrison says him and Tuwaine are leaving their golf outing to get here, but it's going to take a while.

I'm not sure how much time passes from when I get to the waiting room and when a doctor comes. Maybe it was ten minutes, maybe it was an hour. I wouldn't know. But a doctor comes around to get me, thankfully refraining from calling out Tom's name and avoiding any possible fan run-ins.

I jump up and rush toward him, smiling nervously. The doctor asks again if I'm here for Tom, to which I nod, and he leads me away from the waiting room.

"So, it seems that he's very malnourished." The doctor tells me, which is no surprise at all. "He is severely underweight and is also very dehydrated. Do you know why this is happening?"

We stop outside of his room and continue talking. "He's preparing for a movie role. His character has PTSD so he decided to lose a bit of weight. I told him it was too much but he swore he was fine."

"Do you know how much he lost?" I tell him twenty pounds and then a little about Tom's diet, and I can tell but his surprised face that Tom is in for some deep shit. "Wow, that's a lot for someone his age and weight. Basically, his body can't handle the work that he's making it do. If he's working on a film set and he's not eating properly, or at all, his body is going to give out because it can't support him. For now, I've got him on an IV drip to hydrate him and I'll come back in a little while to talk to you two about what to do from here."

"Okay, thank you so much. I can go in now?" The doctor nods and then heads off.

Tom's eyes are closed when I enter the room, but I can't quite tell if he's sleeping. Even still, there's a nurse taking his vitals who smiles at me, quickly finishing up and leaving the room.

Tom stirs when I sit in the chair beside his bed, scrunching up his crooked nose. I grab onto his free hand and move my thumb against his knuckles, taking a deep breath. "I can tell you're awake." I murmur, the tiniest smile on my face. "I know you too well."

The corners of Tom's mouth lift up in the tiniest, his eyes fluttering open slowly. "Hi." He mumbles, the word slurred.

"Hi, sweet boy." I keep my voice sweet and smooth. "How are you feeling?"

"Bad." Tom spits out, sighing. His eyes are squinting and he looks like he's in pain.

"Does your head hurt? The lights hurt?" He nods, so I stand and turn off the light, watching the wrinkles in his forehead smoothen out. "Did the doctor check you for a concussion?"

"I-I don't know."

I let go of Tom's hand again and poke my head out of the hospital room, flagging down a nurse. I tell her my concern and she promises to get a doctor in soon, then goes on her way.

"A doctor is coming, Tom." I take my seat again and lace our fingers.

A silence falls over us for a moment, but the quiet makes me more aware of the way Tom's hands are shaking.

"Are you feeling okay?" I whisper. "You're shaking. I just wanna make sure you're-"

"I'm sorry." And suddenly he's breaking down in tears, sobbing loudly. "You were right, I was wrong."

"Shh, sweetheart." I coo, moving to sit on the side of his bed. "Let's not talk about that right now. Right now, just relax and-"

"I don't wanna be here. I wanna go home." He whines, hand squeezing mine as tight as he can, which isn't much at all. He's far too weak.

"I know you do. But you've gotta be here so the doctors can help you get better so you can get home and get back to work. So let's not cry," I wipe my thumbs over his cheeks, "and just relax as much as you can. You can watch tv, close your eyes, so whatever. A doctor is hopefully coming soon to help you."

Tom looks at me with huge puppy eyes, rimmed red from tears. "You're not gonna leave me, right?"

A smile appears on my cheeks, but it feels forced. "Of course I'm not gonna leave you, pretty boy. I'll be right by your side this whole time and for the rest of your life, you know that."

His lips push out in a pout. "You can still call me pretty boy when I'm like this?"

"You'll always be my pretty boy." I leave forward and press a few kisses to his cheek, hopefully calming him down a bit.

The doctor comes back into the room a few moments later, and Tom forces me to hold his hand while the doctor inspects him again, this time for a concussion.

"Yep, your girlfriend is right, you've got a mild concussion. I'd assume you hit your head on something when you fainted, whether it was a cabinet or the floor. It's not too bad though, you should be fine in two or three weeks. But even still, I wanna keep you for the rest of the day. I know it's early, so we'll see how you're feeling later and see if you need to stay the night or you can go. We've got you on an IV to give you some vitamins and some essential things you've been missing out on over the past few weeks. You know where the nurses button is, if you need anything. I'll see you two later."

///

The rest of the day passes incredibly slowly. Tom's family shows up just a little bit after the doctor leaves. They stay for an hour or two, just to keep Tom entertained, but he's being very quiet and really only wants to talk to me. But his family is babying him and talking to him like a child. And as much as I do that to him when I'm consoling him, he absolutely hates when his family does it.

And then Harrison and Tuwaine show up and wreak havoc. I know it's for entertainment purposes and to make Tom laugh. They show up and throw a backpack onto Tom's bed, what's filled with my laptop, smuggled in fast food, some extra clothes for Tom, and a handful of dvd's. Then they loudly make their way around Tom's room, inspecting every single thing that is on the walls or in the relatively empty cabinets. I'm tempted to kick them out so they don't get in trouble, but Tom is laughing and his spirits are lifted, so I don't bother.

By the time a nurse is coming around with lunch for Tom, he's starving. I can hear his stomach rumbling, but that's a sound I've grown accustomed to.

Tom pushes around his food, not interested in the bland hospital food. "I really want what Haz and Tuwaine brought." He eyes the McDonald's bag on the other side of the room. "I don't want this shit."

"I don't know if your stomach can handle that. You haven't had fast food in months and I don't know if that's good for you-"

"Please, baby, I'm so hungry and this looks terrible." Tom begs, pushing the tray of food away from him.

I easily comply, not wanting to put up a fight with him when he's feeling so tortured at the moment. I open the bag and find a ridiculous amount of food, more than me and Tom could ever eat.

"God, these idiots must have bought the whole store out. What do you want-burger, fries, nuggets?"

"Yes." He responds, making me roll my eyes.

"You're impossible." I pull out a small fry, a cheeseburger, and six piece nugget and hand it over to him, watching him smile happily. "You're nuts. Please eat slowly and drink a lot of water. I don't want you getting sick and throwing up."

"Can we watch a movie too?" He shoves a nugget in his mouth and gestures to my laptop. I agree, pulling up Netflix and starting a random movie, setting my computer on the bed.

Thankfully, Tom doesn't have to stay the night. He's built up enough strength through the IV, food, and relaxation for the doctor to feel good about him going home. So he gets out of his hospital gown and into some sweats, signing discharge papers and wobbling out of the hospital room. And since I rode in the ambulance with Tom, Harrison comes to pick us up and drive us home.

"Looking a bit better, mate." Harrison says, giving Tom a bro hug when we get to the car.

"Thanks for picking us up." Tom mumbles before jumping into the backseat.

"Thank you so much, Haz. You're the best." I give him a tight hug before sitting beside Tom in the backseat and heading home.

///

"Do you wanna go up to bed or stay on the couch?" I ask once we step inside, dropping our bags beside the door. Tessa is off at his parents house, so our house is silent.

"I wanna go shower, and then go to bed." He mumbles, taking the lead upstairs and hobbling into the connected bathroom. I collect him some fresh boxers and a tee shirt, putting them on the counter for him when he's done. I busy myself by changing the sheets and fixing up the bed, distracting myself from the craziness of the day.

"Babe!" Tom starts calling. "Baby!"

I panic, fearing the worst, rushing into the bathroom. "What? What's wrong?"

"Will you come in with me?" He asks like a child, pouting, his curls dripping over his forehead.

"I thought something was wrong." I groan, but begin stripping off my clothes anyways. I step into the warm water and sigh of relief, happy to wash away the stress of the day. I immediately wrap my arms around Tom's skinny waist, burying my face in his neck. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Yeah, me too." Tom sighs, hand running up and down my back gently. "Thank you for being there for me. You're the best girlfriend ever."

"Thanks." I chuckle with an eye roll. "I'm just glad you're home."

We finish up in the shower not long after, since being exposed to the warm water for too long could make Tom faint again. So we get dressed and crawl into bed, curling up under the cold duvet. I rest my head on Tom's chest and close my eyes, trying to drift off to sleep.

"You can say it now, you know?" Tom murmurs, lips ghosting over my forehead.

I smile softly, letting a beat pass. "I told you so."

[alj4890]

Chapter 2 Hollywood Daze

The Other Friend

(Liam x MC) (Maxwell x OC * Amanda) (Drake x Olivia) (Hana x Rashad)

These characters were created by the fabulous writers of Choices. They come from The Royal Romance and Red Carpet Diaries. The original character, Duchess Amanda Bridgerton of House St. Orella is my own creation.

Masterlist of The Other Friend TRR

Chapter 2 summary: Duchess Amanda is currently in Hollywood helping to finish a screenplay on her best selling novel, "The Earl's Undoing". It is a fictional novel steeped in Cordonian history. Amanda is homesick and desperately wishes she was in New York and her friends.

Chapter 2

Amanda quickly pushes her hair out of her face. She looks at Maxwell's message again.

"Hey beautiful! We should be landing in New York within the next hour. I know we will most likely hit up a bar and I am determined 2 get us 2 a club. Need you for some moves 😏 Let me know when you get in. Miss you like crazy!!! Why aren't you with us yet😖😖😖 K Will let you get back to packing and being with us. Seriously. Drake is only going to wanna drink wiskey and Liam is way too nice to suggest anything else. Need my backup asap

This is killing me, Amanda thought. Nothing hurt her like saying no to Maxwell. She was always up for any scheme of his, just because it was Maxwell's. Amanda had fallen head over heels in love with Maxwell when she was fifteen years old. She had always had a crush on him growing up, but love...now that was another thing.

Amanda had been standing around at another court event. Her Uncle Nicholas was always insisting she be seen. He was such a darling. In many ways, he was like an older version of Maxwell. Her Uncle had been her guardian since she was twelve. He was loving, silly, and too sweet for words. He supported everything Amanda was interested in and thought she was a brilliant writer. Amanda's parents had tragically died in a car crash. Maxwell, Liam, and Drake had been there for her.

And here she was, at another event wishing she was anywhere else other than listening to Lord Neville go on and on how superior he was to every other man.

"You know Lady Amanda, it isn't every girl of whom I give my attention. You are quite lucky that I am even remaining by your side. I mean, you usually keep...questionable company and all. I'm quite surprised your uncle allows such acquaintances with the likes of Drake Walker. Let alone your preference for Lord Maxwell. His actions alone question whether or not he is worthy to belong to House Rumsford." Lord Neville droned.

Amanda stood there. Her hazel brown eyes changing to a golden brown. Her eyes had always been a give away of her emotions. When she was happy or excited, they were a forest green. When she was sad, they turned a dark gray. And like this moment, golden brown was a sign of anger. Anyone that knew her well would notice this as a sign to back away. Lord Neville remained oblivious to the sign.

"Lord Neville," Amanda said in a dangerously low voice. "I must beg you to NEVER seek my company again. Nor must you ever dare to mention those I care for in any insulting manner. Good evening."

And with one last look of loathing, Amanda walked out of the ballroom. She knew she needed to find a place where no one would see her. She always cried when she lost her temper and the last thing she needed was gossip. Neville would probably say she made a move on him and he refused her, causing the tears. As she quickened her pace, she ran right into Maxwell. His arms immedately went around her. Blushing, he let her go.

"Amanda! I was just about to come find you. I was thinking it is time we danced and I..." Maxwell trailed off when he saw her eyes. His sea green eyes snapped with anger. "Who did this?!? Where are they?!? What did they do? Should I go get Drake and Liam?!?" He said in a growl.

Amanda looked into his handsome face and realized that she would never love anyone as much as she did Maxwell. He knew her better than anyone. By one look, he was ready to fight for her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, placed her cheek against his heart and hugged him tightly. He quickly put his arms around her, though he was shaking with anger. Amanda softly said, "All I need is you to hold me right now. Please." Maxwell tightened his arms around her and rested his head on hers. Amanda looked up at him and smiled. She gently kissed his cheek. He watched as her eyes turned a dark green and he smiled. "There's my Amanda. Now then. There is a dance floor just waiting for us to bust a move. Come on. I bet Liam that he wouldn't be able to find a partner to try this dance." And just like that, Amanda's heart was light.

Amanda sighed as she remembered that moment. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her dark brown hair was hanging in wavy curls. She had recently cut her long hair to just barely touching her shoulders. Amanda wondered what the guys would think when they saw it. She had kept it long because her Uncle Nicholas had loved it like that. His death two months ago from heart failure had cut deep. Amanda wanted a change so with Ryan Summer's suggestion, she went to a stylist. What a change that had been.

The style made her already large almond shaped eyes even bigger. Ryan had gasped when he first saw her. "Wow," Ryan stuttered. "Just when I thought you couldn't be any lovelier, you go and pull a fast one on me". Amanda scoffed at his compliment. "Come on Mr. Fliratious. Let's get me back to the grindstone before Mr. Hunt finds out I'm playing hooky."

Ryan opened the door to the town car for her. "Yes, let's get the world famous author slash duchess back to the slave quarters. Perhaps when you are done, you might care to have dinner with me." He flashed a smile that made many women across the world want to swoon. Amanda laughed. "Ryan, I want to finish this so I can get back home. I have a duchy to run and friends that I am dying to see. Plus I received a message from my late uncle's lawyer. I have to meet with him as soon as I return next week. I have to get this done so I can be released. And please remind me never to agree to write a screenplay for Thomas Hunt again! I adore the man, but he is killing me with the details."

Ryan groaned. He had been hinting around for the last couple of months that he was interested in Amanda. She was one of the few women that wasn't in awe of his looks or stardom. He had been attracted to her from the get go, but she always thought he was teasing when he asked her to do something with him. He sighed and told the driver to take them back to her hotel. He would just try again later.

Ryan had just left after giving her a rundown on what Thomas was looking for in regards to the character he would play. As Amanda began to finish the last scene her phone vibrated. She quickly picked it up and smiled. Maxwell had sent another text.

"You won't believe this, but I think Liam has fallen for the waitress at this dive bar we are at. Fireworks doesn't even touch how they are looking at each other. Look at this."

Amanda examined the picture of Liam and the waitress. She quickly texted Maxwell back.

"Wow! I've never seen Liam look like that. I wish he had someone back home he felt that way about. I know he has to marry for the good of our country, but I wish he could find someone he loved. Maybe it is just being in Hollywood so long, but I want him swept off his feet."

Amanda watched the texting icon revolve as Maxwell typed.

"I think he must really like her. He just asked her to be our guide. She's taking us to some beach cove. Her name is Riley. She seems to really like him too. I wish you were here to see this."

Amanda bit her lip. She quickly typed back.

" I wish I was with you too. I can't wait to be with you guys tomorrow, flying home. You will have to tell am everything. I'm almost finished with the screenplay. All I have to do is drop it off and head to LAX. I should be in New York by 6am. Did I mention how I can't wait to be with you?"

Amanda hit the send button. She re-read what she wrote and groaned. It sounded like she just wanted to be with Maxwell. Great, she thought, now he will think I'm in love with him and dodge me like a bullet.

Amanda got up and finished packing. She printed out the finished screenplay and called for a town car. She gazed out the window one last time, looking at Hollywood lit up like a mystical wonderland in the darkness of night. She made her way to the lobby and into her car. As the car pulled up to Thomas Hunt's home, Amanda began to get excited. She was finally going to be able to go home.

Thomas looked at Ryan as he paced back and forth before the fireplace. He knew that Ryan had feelings for Amanda, but who wouldn't? She was a talented author, cultured, was actually kind even though she was a rich noble, and she even baked cookies for them during a painful night of rewrites. Thomas finally silenced Ryan.

"Enough! Just tell her how you feel. Granted she is leaving tonight, but we will be heading to Cordonia to film the movie in a few weeks. I am weary of your self pity. Either tell her or be silent on this matter forever."

Ryan looked at him. "You're right. I will tell her." Ryan hesitated. "I just don't think she will think I am serious."

Thomas steepled his fingers together over his mouth. He gave a hard look to Ryan. "If this were a scene in a movie, what would you do?"

Ryan paused and smiled. "Thank you Mr. Hunt. I know exactly what to do now."

Amanda rang the doorbell. Through the glazed glass she could see a tall dark headed figure coming. She smiled as she looked at the screenplay in her arms. It was finished. Her ideas and heart were on these very pages. Thomas Hunt would use his brilliance to make her story come to life. She couldn't wait to see it.

The door opened. "One set of blood, sweat, and tears ready for you Mr. Hunt-oh," Amanda glanced up in surprise when she saw Ryan. " Ryan! I didn't know you would be here. Now I get to say goodbye to you too. I don't know what I would have done without you here in Hollywood. Thank you for being so kind to me"

Ryan steps back to let her inside. He glances back at Thomas as he comes forward. Ryan half listens to Amanda tease Thomas about holding her hostage and here being the final payment. Amanda gives Thomas a quick hug, that he scoffs but can't help smiling. Ryan grins at the two of them. Amanda turns to go back to the car. "Gentlemen, I look forward to seeing you in Cordonia. With the social season beginning tomorrow evening, I'm not sure how much free time I will have, but I will do my best to be there if you need anything,".

They both thank her and express their desire to see her soon. Thomas takes the screenplay and heads back to the living room. His mind fully on the movie, leaving Ryan to walk Amanda back to the car. Ryan takes Amanda's hand as she waits for him to open the door. She looks up into his brown eyes and he takes a deep breath. "Amanda. When I am in Cordonia, would you...I would like to...do you think? Oh hell. Amanda I would like to take you on a date one evening. Not as a friend, but an actual date.".

With that finally said, he pulls her towards him and kisses her. Amanda remains shocked when he pulls away. "Ryan. I, I had no idea you felt that way. I thought. Well, I thought you were just a friend. I don't know what to say." Ryan quickly places a finger over her lips. "Wait and say something when I actually ask you out. Okay?" Amanda nods and hugs him. He hugs her tightly and kisses her cheek. She smiles and says, "See you soon." She gets into the car and heads to the airport.

As she boards her private plane, she can't help but shake her head. How in the world did someone like Ryan Summers fall for someone like her? She knew she didn't want to hurt him, but she was in love with Maxwell. But, what if Maxwell only felt friendship for her? Should she deny a chance at love with Ryan in the hopes that Maxwell might one day realize they belonged together? Amanda looks at her cell phone and sees another text message from Maxwell.

"Okay. I think I might do something crazy. I think I'm going to ask this waitress to represent House Beaumont as a suitor for Liam. They snuck off during the party and went to the Statue of Liberty together. I mean, who knows what else happened. Wink. Wink. Anyway. We will see what happens. She might not agree to it. But man oh man. The sparks were flying the whole night." Have a safe flight. Can't wait to hug you. You know you never could resist my hugs 😉"

Amanda looks at the text smiling and shaking her head. Well, she thought, this looks like an interesting beginning.

[schmonkey04-blog]

The Shadows In Her Mind

CHAPTER I

As the blood covered girl sits on the cold lime colored tiles, she thinks about what could, should, have been. A dark shadow stares at her, wondering why she wasn’t jumping for joy, after all, she had gotten what she deserved. Tears start to race down her pale face, as the lyrics of a sad melody flow through her ears. The isolated shadow studied the weeping brunette, desperately wanting to understand what made her feel this way and how he could fix it. The grey-eyed teenager stared at the shining silver knife in her hands, unaware of the conflicted darkness watching her. She couldn't help but remember how she had come to this state.

The memory flooded through her...

“Hayden, wait up,” a black-haired boy called out, running after his friend. As soon as he reached her, Hayden saw his dazzling smile.

“Guess what?” the hazel-eyed boy, Dylan asked after catching his breath.

“What?” she inquired as she tried not to trip on the stairs leaving the building. When she saw the excitement in his eyes, she was surprised he wasn’t jumping up and down.

“I got an A on my calculus test!” Dylan exclaimed. Of course, he always did the best, Hayden thought with a sigh. Every time she was proud of herself for doing well, he did better.

“Oh, good job,” Hayden said, blinking to make sure her eyes weren’t becoming glossy.

“So there's a party on Friday and I know we were planning on watching your favorite movie, but do you think we could reschedule. Amanda’s going to be there and you know how long I’ve had feelings for her,” Dylan quickly stated, as though saying it faster would make it a more appealing idea. It was her birthday on Friday. It felt as though someone had taken a scolding hot knife and plugged it through her heart, only to fill it with bone-chilling water. She should have seen this coming, he always ended up leaving her for someone better.

Hayden hid the tears in her eyes as she quietly said, “Of course, we can go to the movies another time. Have fun at the party.” Hayden rushed toward her car, wanting to leave so no one could see her cry.

Dylan Hanson was her vision of perfect. He was intelligent, athletic, and took time out of his day to spend time with her.

Hayden couldn’t understand why she had killed him.

Hayden was trying to escape the real world with pages of ink and paper when she felt a chill go through her tall body. She wrapped the white knitted blanket closer to herself, pretending that it would protect her from whatever lurked in the shadows. What she didn’t know, was that she didn’t need to fear what was in the shadows, but the shadows themselves. And these shadows wanted revenge.

With shaking hands, Hayden started to remember what she hopelessly wanted to forget.

The crimson blood was messily splattered on the walls, like paint on an unprepared canvas. She could see an indescribable body on the ground ruining the fluffy white rug beneath it. There was a copper kitchen knife sitting still in the neck of what used to be a human being. Hayden looked at her trembling hands, that was covered in a warm liquid. Blood. She could feel her intakes of air getting shorter. Her heart was pounding in her ears making it impossible to focus on something else, anything else. She backed into a corner when the walls started to close in on her. She grabbed frantically at the enclosing structure, mentally begging for it to stop closing in on her. It felt like she had fallen into a river made only of rapids. Every time she tried to get air she was pulled down again. She felt her heart stop when she suddenly she heard a whisper, “He deserved it. You did the right thing.”

“No,” Hayden whispered to herself in denial. “He broke your heart over and over again. He didn’t deserve to be alive.” This was worse than riptides, this was a cold, dark, empty, never-ending ocean of nothingness. Hayden could only shake her head and whisper the same word over and over again as if it would change anything. How could all this have happened, when she was just visiting his house to give him his book back. She could only remember one thing. Her hearing whispering coming from the empty shadows of Dylan's house. The house of the man she just killed.

As she looked at the gleaming knife in her oddly still hands, she realized she should apologize first. She should apologize to the people that the blood on her hands belonged to. After Hayden set the sharp tipped knife on the floor, remembering where she put it for later uses. She then grabbed a piece of paper that was ripped from her journal, a pen from some insignificant drawer, and wrote the names of those she took the beauty of life away from.

First, she delicately wrote the name of her best friend, Dylan Johnson. She paused for a moment as she unwillingly thought back to how the next name or names joined the list.

"Hey Mom," Hayden said as she walked into the living room, only to look around, confused. "And Dad?" she questioned, trying not to show the disappointment flooding through her.

"Your father came home early. I thought we could eat dinner together," Hayden's mom explained. Hayden internally sighed, she could already tell that tonight wasn't going to end well.

But the fate of this dinner was already decided, and it was a lot worse than Hayden could have ever imagined.

CHAPTER II

The family of three was sitting in a beige booth, the elders on the same side of an imaginary war.

"Well, this is really fun," Hayden stated sarcastically, adding an annoyed eye roll at the end.

"Hayden," her mother scolded, looking at her with disapproving eyes, "Behave. Your father cut his trip short so he could see you on your birthday." The teenage girl loathed her frequently leaving father. Hayden could feel the frustrated gaze of the man who sat across from her, with an empty space where his heart should be.

"Your mother mentioned that you quit hockey, in spite of the fact that we spent a great deal of money on practices and equipment," the forty-year-old man announced, as soon as his ex-wife left to use the restroom.

"She also told me that your grades have been dropping recently," he continued, staring at his daughter with his topaz eyes. Hayden scoffed in disbelief. Now she knew the real reason he had come home, to tell her how much of a failure she was. Hayden shouldn't have gotten her hopes up, due to the fact that this wasn't even the first time it had happened and probably not the last.

"You need to get your grades up if you are going to an Ivy League school, which you are," Hayden's father firmly stated, leaving no room to argue.

“I’m really disappointed in you Hayden,” He said, searching her face for a reaction, “You’ve let down me and your mother.” Through Hayden knew he was wrong, she couldn’t help but feel her heart sink in her chest. She casted her eyes onto the tan table, trying to look anywhere but his unforgiving stare. "You should get a tutor. What about that smart friend of yours? Dylan, I think his name was." Mr. Wicklow glanced out the window. "Your mother told me that he has a job here, I wonder where he is." Dead. He was dead. She had killed him. It was at this moment when Hayden finally realized, that this wasn't a dream she was going to wake up from. This was the cold-hearted reality.

Hayden's ash-colored eyes were shining, as she remembered the rest of the night.

She plunged the knife deep into the man's ribs for the fifth time, not even fazed when more red colored liquid splattered on her roseate cheeks. The life had faded from his round eyes long ago. The long-haired girl sighed as if she was satisfied with what she had accomplished.

All of a sudden Hayden's almond eyes widened like she just woke up from a terrible dream. She felt as if her heart had stopped, as she realized what just happened. "No no no no no no," she wailed, shaking the lifeless body in agony. While trying to ignore the whispering from the dark corner of the room, Hayden, silently sobbing, grabbed the rough handle of the thin knife and gradually pulled it out of his chest. She had killed another man.

“He never appreciated you. He made you hate yourself.”

"No one should ever die like that," Her voice was hoarse as she whispered, while shaking her head, "No one deserves a fate that horrible." “He didn't deserve you, you should be glad you killed him.” I didn't mean to, was the single thought in the weeping girls head.

Hayden carefully wrote the name she knew her father by, Lucas Wicklow. The next name to be added on to the list happened on the same day as her father was murdered.

"Oh my god," Mrs. Wicklow blurted out, as she fell to the ground looking at the scene in front of her.

The only response the girl covered in blood had was a trembling, "I'm sorry." Hayden's mind was racing, thinking of any possible answers to this inconvenient problem. She couldn't think of any that ended well for both of them. Hayden looked at her bawling mother as a solution she hadn't thought of was whispered in her ear. Kill her.

"No, I can't," Hayden murmured, almost silently. “You need to kill her.” "No," the girl who was now had lost all emotions, repeated, more demanding this time. But her protests didn't matter as she looked into her mother's hazel eyes for the last time.

Ruby Wicklow was now written on the list, right beneath her husband. Hayden took her time writing the last name because it was the only name that deserved to be there.

Hayden grasped the shimmering luminous knife, humming the lyrics to an old lullaby. She aimed the blade towards a place on her next prey that would cause almost immediate death. The broken girl took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before suddenly shoving the knife into her victim's neck.

The last name on the list was written in perfect cursive. It read Hayden Wicklow.