#found out my visa is granted today

[pimsri]

Going on a holiday in spring for 10;days. Guess where I'm going. Here's a subtle hint;

#I'll have you know I wanted this for years and years #been saving up for it for a long time too #actually like 4-5 years actually #found out my visa is granted today #wahoo #so hard to get the #the fckinvisa #visa #visitors visa one #ugh #but #where i am i guess! #everything's planned

[daidonzo]

I guess any thrill will do

You felt like a fish out of the water since you arrived at The Beach.

Granted, it was much better than being on your own playing those deathly games every four to five days, struggling to find food and warmth and not sleeping more than one hour at a time because you had to keep one eye open, never feeling completely safe.

Here, at least there was electricity. Potable water, enough food for everybody.

And people. And parties. And alcohol, and drugs.

The place, however, felt artificial, staged. For some reason, if you allowed yourself to have fun, you thought it would feel as if you were lying. Denying the reality you were in.

That was the reason why you had yet to socialize with anyone, sitting sideways awkwardly in a stool in the bar area by the pool in a very tiny bikini and a knitted see-through dress that left nothing to the imagination. You had finished the fancy cocktail you were served some ago, now playing with the straw, biting its end while you observed those around you.

You were thinking what the best way to approach a group of people would be when a girl, in a blue bikini and dreadlocks appeared next to you, ordering a drink for herself. She sat down, her knees bumping into yours as she did.

‘Oh, sorry! Mind if I sit here?’

‘Not at all.’ You tried to smile at her, but it was all teeth. How long had it been?

‘New to The Beach?’

‘Yep. I just arrived a few days ago. Is it written all over my face?’

‘A little.’ She giggled, grabbing her drink and taking a little sip. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Lucky for you I’m here now.’ She extended her hand. ‘My name’s Kuina.’

You told her yours, shaking it firmly. You had a lopsided grin, and this time it was for real. Eyes included.

───⋆☆─────────────

The next day you woke up late in the afternoon, extremely tired, but you felt better than ever since arriving at this wasteland. You had made a friend, Kuina.

You had always been a people’s person and a party goer, and yesterday had found out that maybe temporarily pretending you were in an extravagant club in Tokyo where the dress code was beachwear was not that bad. Especially if you had no more days in your visa and you needed to play a game today.

You brushed your hair and teeth, put on a different bikini and the same dress and went to the lobby of the resort, where your new-friend said she could most likely be found. And there she was, in all her shining glory, accompanied by a blonde man in a white hoodie.

She seemed as pleased to see you as you were to see her. Your savior.

You were finally starting to feel like yourself again.

She introduced you to the man, whose name was Chishiya. He was… nowhere near as nice as Kuina, had an air of superiority about him that in any other situation would have made you raise an eyebrow, but now you didn’t particularly mind.

You talked for a bit, about the events of last night, Chishiya only intervening to make sarcastic remarks here and there.

Then, Kuina switched to explaining how The Beach worked.

‘There’s the Hatter, he is the leader.’ You nodded, giving her your full attention. You had met the Hatter when you had been accepted – he had only asked for whatever cards you had up until that point. He had mentioned there were three rules: always wearing a bathing suit, living your life exactly as you wished (you hadn’t been complying with that one up until yesterday night but you hoped things would change) and death to the traitors, meaning you had to give all of your cards to the resident with the highest number. In this case, the Hatter. ‘But there’s a lot of tension with another group, the militants, the ones with the weapons. The three main members are a scary-looking man who was actually part of the army in the real world, another with shoulder-length dark hair and piercings and a creep with a katana and tattoos. Have you seen them yet?’

You thought for a second, then shook your head.

‘No. I think I would know it if I had encountered them. Specially the creep wielding the sword.’

‘Yeah, I agree. Lucky you, then! Best to try and avoid them, if you want to live peacefully.’

You made a mental note. You didn’t want any trouble, not when things were starting to finally look up.

───⋆☆─────────────

It was time for the game.

You were waiting by the car with some others players – two young girls and a man about your age, wearing a cap. All of you were nervous, some more than others. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, that being the only thing to actually betray how you were feeling, because you were smiling, trying to ease things up a bit for your teammates.

‘So…’ You clapped, attracting their attention. ‘We are going to play today, on the same team! What are your names?’

They introduced themselves and you were about to do the same thing when one of the best-looking guys you had ever seen approached the car. He was tall, very muscular, wearing a set of camo trousers and a black sleeveless shirt. He had a military haircut and a scar over his eye, which in your opinion just made him even more attractive.

You blinked a few times, trying to focus, and then turned to the newcomer. You were so invested in ogling at him that you didn’t notice the others looking frightened all of a sudden, the girls even taking a step back to try and make themselves seem smaller so as not to draw any attention.

‘Hi!’ You flashed him a half smile. He looked serious, but almost all guys that looked like him did and then they were all big sweethearts. You knew the type. It was your type after all. ‘We are telling each other our names to ease the tension and get to know each other a bit before the game.’ You mentioned yours, realizing just then you hadn’t said it, quickly adding some nicknames they could call you by since you didn’t really like your own name very much. ‘What’s yours?’ You finally asked.

He just stared at you, not saying anything nor showing any emotion. Without responding, he moved towards the driver’s seat, opening the door and nodding towards the vehicle so that the rest of you would do the same.

Turns out you were wrong about there being a little teddy bear below that façade.

‘Well, fuck you then.’ You raised an eyebrow, focusing your eyes directly on his.

He looked… surprised? You didn’t give him time to answer, because you opened the door of the back seat and smiled at the others, who were looking at you as if you were some sort of religious apparition, with a kind of newfound reverence. ‘Come on guys, get in! We are going to do great.’ You sat on the front seat, turning so that you could keep speaking with the others.

You were good at calming people down. You were good with kids, and animals, and the principles applied to them could be easily applied to adults too.

But the hot (and rude) man was running all your efforts. You finally had realized how his presence affected the others, but you couldn’t really understand why, and you were stubborn enough to keep trying.

You saw that he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes a couple of times while he drove the five of you to the game arena, but you had decided you wouldn’t even give him the time of the day, no matter how handsome you found him.

───⋆☆─────────────

Kuina was waiting for you when you arrived.

‘I am so happy that you are fine!’ She threw her arms around you, in a massive bear hug that almost made you trip and fall to the ground. You hugged her back, smiling.

‘Yes! It went well, it was an easy game. No deaths, and five more days to live. So, not bad. Only…’

‘What?’

‘There was this man who was just really… rude. He had a gun with him, I realized later on, so he must be part of that militant group you talked about. Anyway, he didn’t speak, he just looked at me weirdly after I told him to fuck himself. Probably shouldn’t have but I was trying to calm the others down and he just wasn’t helping.’

‘No, not really. But if he was just a low-ranking member it’s pretty much whatever… Who was he, do you know?’

You looked around you, trying to find the man who had played the game with you. It was not hard, he towered over the others, and he was… again, extremely good-looking.

‘That one.’ You pointed with an index finger.

Kuina’s face went pale, as if she had seen a ghost. She looked at the man, then at you. Then at the man again. She opened her mouth, and closed it, and opened it.

‘That’s Aguni.’

‘Well, glad to know his name now, since he refused to tell me when I asked…’

‘No, no. He’s Aguni. The leader of the militants.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Nuh-uh.’

‘You told me he was a scary-looking man!’

‘And he isn’t?’

‘Honestly? I found him quite hot.’

Kuina exploded with laughter, bent over, a hand on your shoulder to stabilize herself. Her outburst attracted the attention of Aguni, who looked over at the two of you, and found you staring back.

‘Now he clearly knows we have been talking about him, look what you have done!’ You scolded the woman, but a smile danced on your lips. The situation, you had to admit, was quite funny.

‘Let’s get out of here before he decides to shoot us.’ The woman with dreadlocks said, wiping a tear from her eye, grabbing your hand and taking you both somewhere else.

───⋆☆─────────────

You were sitting by the pool with Kuina and with the new friend you had made in the game, Tatta, who was telling her the story of what you had said to Aguni for the third time that night. The three of you had had a couple of drinks to simply celebrate you were alive, and Tatta and you had even taken two or three shots, to celebrate having escaped death.

‘Stop, it’s not funny. I wanted to try and get to know him because he is my type and we could have died at any moment, so why not act accordingly?’ You had given the same explanation about twelve times, using different words. The other two still found it funny.

‘Look, there comes your boyfriend.’ Kuina pointed out, looking behind you, suffocating a laugh. Aguni was there, followed by the two guys she had described – the one with the piercings and the spine-chilling one with the tattoos.

You had promised to yourself you would never ever tried to speak to him again, because he was very impolite and he had annoyed you. But the you who had said that had been sober and clear-minded and before you even realized, you were standing up and walking towards him, ignoring Kuina’s and Tatta’s warning and futile attempts to keep you seated and away from danger.

‘I know your name already.’ You said to Aguni once you were in front of him, his eyes opening up in surprise, if only just for a second. ‘A little bird told me.’

The man with the piercings, who now you could see had a big, scary gun resting on his shoulder, opened his mouth to say something, but Aguni lifted a hand, ordering him to remain silent.

‘So?’ He was, again, as expressionless as ever.

‘Nothing. I just wanted to let you know.’ Suddenly coming up to talk to him was not such a good idea. ‘And, just so you know, the only reason why I wanted to speak to you is because I think you are hot as fuck.’ You said, chin held up high, with as much dignity as possible, before turning back.

You felt his hand grabbing your wrist before you could start walking.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

‘What’s your name?’

‘I said my name before we left for the game. If you didn’t catch it, not my fault. Good night, Aguni.’

You kept your voice as stable as possible, but there was a slight tremor in it by the time you pronounced his name. You shook his hand off and went back to your friends. You wished you had a way to take a picture of them – their faces were worthy of framing.

───⋆☆───────────── You opened the door to your room the next morning to find the leader of the militants starring at you.

‘Oh God!’ You screamed, jumping on place, clearly startled. ‘You could have knocked! How long have you been standing there?’

‘Not long. I didn’t know if you were sleeping.’

Thank you, still weird, you thought to yourself. ‘And what the hell are you doing here?’

‘The little bird, your friend with dreadlocks told me your name.’

‘So?’

Oh, how the tables had turned. You would have to apologize to Kuina later on. She probably was scared to death now.

‘It is… refreshing to find someone who is not scared of me.’

You were a little bit after the events of last night, but you were not going to tell him.

You frowned. So that was it? You crossed your arms over your chest, examining the guy while leaning on your doorframe.

‘The other one, the one with the big sword. He is much scarier.’

‘You mean Last Boss?’ Aguni had the littlest smile on his face. It suited him. You couldn’t help but grin back.

‘Oh, you have to be kidding me, that’s not how you call him.’

‘It is.’ His smile grew wider.

‘Well, you see? Point made.’

You stood there, in surprisingly comfortable silence, just looking at each other for a minute or so.

‘Do you want to come in or are you comfortable in the corridor?’ You finally asked, earning another one of those smiles.

You hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

#this is not really reader x aguni but oc x aguni #because it is ANDRÓMEDA X AGUNI #but it's fine #aguni #aguni morizono #aguni fic #aguni morizono fic #aguni fanfic #aguni morizono fanfic #aguni x oc #aguni x reader #aguni morizono x reader #aguni alice in borderland #aguni imagine #aib aguni

[dodsonsonne17]

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View More: topthaibinhaz.com - Top Thai Binh AZ Reviewed by Team Leader in Top Thai Binh AZ: Trương Tuấn Anh - Truong Tuan Anh

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[gleefullydabbles]

Today marks three months in my new home, an island in the Indian Ocean! It has been a journey and a half getting here; visa delays, flight rebookings, and a whole lotta uncertainty. But upon arrival, I’ve found there’s no better place to learn the art of calm. Mauritius is the epitome of chill. Everything moves slower here, in a good way (well, mostly). It took me a month to open a bank account, two months to find friends, and three months to start my research, but who's counting days on the calendar when there’s so much sky to gaze up at? I live in a little coastal neighborhood called Flic en Flac, affectionately known amongst the locals as “Flic”. I walk everywhere mostly because I don’t have a car (yet), but also because there’s so much to observe along the way. Monkeys battling it out in the trees, coconuts, papayas, bananas,  and mangoes dancing in the wind with the whole country as their stage. If you can’t tell, I like it here a lot. I’m staying for an additional six months on a research grant provided by the Fulbright Association. I’m studying women’s literacy, but research takes on a lot of forms. Like riding the bus to Cascavel Mall for the first time, or waiting in line for ten minutes in pursuit of a vegetable roti for $0.77 from a colorful stand (so worth it). I have a special customized journal with red and yellow flowers on it that I write in weekly, and I’m also filming a lot of my trip for my Fulbright-sponsored documentary, but I want to start a blog to share my lil experiences as they are happening. If you’re interested in seeing how a black girl from Philly learns how to kick it island style, stay tuned :)

#fulbright #mauritius #island #blacktravels

[inthiseternalmoment]

An interesting tower moment

Looks like my tattoos will be postponed until next year, on the same day we were finally able to experience Bite of Chicago a year after it was postponed for us

9/10/2023

I did not see this coming, but that’s the whole point of tower moments.

The towers of Chicago hinting at the tower moment of today. This was before we had any idea on if we could even get into Bite of Chicago – we were just visiting an underwhelming, one-off farmers market at this point

To start: today was absolutely beautiful, and Aprille and I had the chance to check out Bite of Chicago for the first time – we had missed it last year.

Last summer, the crowds at the entrance were absolutely insane. People were shoulder to shoulder and barely moving. We knew that we were not willing to put our safety on the line for the experience, so we did something else that day.

Being able to visit today on such a beautiful day was an absolute blessing. We ate good food and walked around Grant Park, and the synchronicity was not lost on us that we were finally able to experience this. A year ago, it felt as if the universe was saying “not now, it isn’t time yet.”

This wasn’t a “no.” And we realized today that we were in a much better headspace to come have the experience. I had my UPF rated umbrella to shade us (something I didn’t have last year) as it was a hot day and we were going to stand in lines for a while. I’ve also changed my relationship with money over the last year, so I was happy to spend more on the experience than I would’ve before.

Today was when we were meant to experience Bite of Chicago, and I see that now.

Towers all around on a truly beautiful day having a delicious experience we did not see coming

…

When we got home, Aprille began explaining how she was feeling sad about the fact that our Japan trip had yet to be planned, and how it was a reminder of how the timing of her return to the country kept getting delayed, over and over.

As she spoke, I realized that there was an anxiety I had myself about the experience, which was if I would be turned away for having my neck tattoos and not having them on my passport photo.

This was something that I had convinced myself wasn’t a serious issue, because I believed that I could wear a turtleneck to get through security. Beyond that, I did have a worry that maybe I would be asked to show my neck under a turtleneck upon arrival, but again, I was wondering if I was being overly concerned about something that might not have mattered in the long run.

As we began discussing the duration of the stay, we also came across the issue of remote working on a tourist visa. We found that while it might be done by individuals here and there, it was technically illegal. This gray area reminded me of the gray area the my tattoo lived in, and so I brought it up.

As we discussed it, Aprille mentioned the important fact that a passport is an ID in a foreign country, and having such a visible placement might increase the chance of getting stopped by police and asked for identification. If that ID didn’t match me completely, it could spell trouble for the trip.

I didn’t want that hanging over us so I had to come to the hard decision of cancelling the appointment. I plan on messaging Felipe tomorrow about all of this, and I’m in mourning of the experience.

…

It’s no coincidence that the same day we get to go to Bite of Chicago a year after we felt like the universe told us “not yet, it’s not the right time” is the same day that I come to understand that it’s not the right time for my final tattoos for my upper-body theme.

I know enough about life now to know that this is simply a redirection, and it will make sense why when I’m able to finally get the last tattoos I wanted to close out my theme with.

That being said, I did (and believe I still do) feel a sadness around this. It was something I was genuinely really excited for (as you can see in my earlier posts), and now the wind has been taken out of my sails completely. I feel a little bit like a kid again, scolding myself for not having “known better” or “known sooner.”

The interesting thing that comes to mind as I write all of this is that I don’t feel too down on myself after having sat with the synchronicity of today. I don’t need to “know better/sooner” because I will know everything in time.

I have been writing about this over the last few posts on how timing is always perfect. Nothing that is meant for me will miss me, even if I feel as if it’s getting delayed.

This tattoo snafu is similar to how I feel about meeting my romantic partner. It will happen when it happens, even if that timing is not when I envisioned it to be. My ego is not meant to know exactly when any of this stuff is supposed to happen, or how any of this is supposed to happen. Yes, my ego made the appointments and set many intentions, but that is all it is meant to do. It has no control over the outcomes, and that’s something I am taking to heart.

…

I see more and more how my posts connect to one another with each passing day. There’s absolutely nothing boring about my life because there’s always something building up, moving around, or shifting into new and unexpected experiences.

You can literally see the progression – my posts went from:

Tattoos are coming

My negative ego came out

Another perfect day in Chicago

Two nightmares in a row

And now, An interesting tower moment.

Who comes up with this?? What kind of life is this, where the days ebb and flow so unexpectedly? Was my waking life always this chaotic?

…

I remember how Bashar mentioned that this waking life is just another level of the dream. In order to lucid dream more easily, he suggested creating a token (like in Inception) that was wholly unique to the dreamer so that they could identify it in the dream. In addition, the individual with the token needed to attach to it some idea that was so out of alignment in terms of what they preferred so that this unique token would then trigger a figurative head-jerking polarization reaction in the dreamers mind, reminding them that they are dreaming.

He spoke of how his people began using this practice to the point where they were able to use the same tactic in “real life,” and began to wake up in it as well.

I was advised by the psychic in Edgewater to journal and log my dreams, and in this way I am doing both at the same time because they are one and the same. My dreams are just another level of this experience, and my waking life is another level of the dream. Except here, the recall is much easier (at least for now).

I’ve been saying lately that time has felt like it’s been speeding up significantly and the days have been blurring together. What’s more dream-like than that? Dreams constantly shift scenes to explore the same theme in different ways and different themes in similar ways, and my journal entries are proof that my waking life is doing exactly that.

Every day I’m just exploring the same group of themes as I continually come back to myself in an endless cycle of self reflection. I have the visual of the “circle closing” which is similar to the “chapter coming to an end” only for another chapter to immediately open.

Even as I think about it now – this process isn’t relegated to a daily schedule. It is literally every single moment.

There’s proof in this post alone: above I wrote about Bashar’s insights on how waking life is another dream state, and that wasn’t something I heard technically today. While I can’t pinpoint exactly when I heard it, my guess would be somewhere in the past two weeks.

This estimate is hazy because of how warped my perception of time has become, but that warping is actually what I believe to be the true nature of time is. It’s malleable and formless, and fits your current moment however you need it to. I hadn’t written about that specific insight from Bashar in a pervious post, and it was because I didn’t need to.

Callback: it wasn’t the right time yet.

“Not yet, it’s not the right time.”

This waking dream is just an endless loop of callbacks.

I feel the ever present nature of time folding in on itself. It’s like these chronologically ordered journal entries are the only thing keeping me “sane” or “tethered” to some form of order in the chaos, because I’m stretching out the eternal now and pinpointing the different ways in which it can fold in on itself.

Maybe that’s why my personal psychic abilities aren’t specifically for “sensing” the future right now. If they were, I wouldn’t be as interested in whatever unexpected or mundane experiences await me tomorrow because they would cease to be surprises.

Maybe there are still some surprises left for me.

#personal #september #2023 #9/10/2023 #27

[mydearfuturekids]

My dear future kids, 

Today I was clearing my drawers and found my old plane ticket for my first trip to Australia (18 April 2015). I look back at that time when I decided to take a leap of faith and applied for a student visa to Australia. I was 28, never been out of the country on my own and did not even know anyone in this foreign land. It was a one-way ticket to a completely different world, miles away from the comfort of home. I would say it was the greatest gamble of my life. Was I ready for it? No. But all I knew was I wanted to have a better life for us, and I needed to do something about it. I borrowed funds from my family so it's either I make it or I go back home with shame. And so I was determined that the second was not an option.

Fast forward, after seven years of a roller coaster ride of studying, hard work, more studying (was not the plan but I had to do my second bachelor!), pandemic (oh don’t get me started on this one), unemployment, survival mode, and here we are finally. I've received my Permanent Residency! What's even better, I have finally secured your future. Now you will be born to privilege as citizens of this country. I hope that you never take this for granted as this is a result of your mama's (literally) blood, sweat and lots of tears (more of the last actually). 

What I have learned in the last seven years is that there is reward for taking risks, facing challenges head on, not listening to the naysayers and to keep pressing on even when you don't see results yet. There are no shortcuts to big endeavors. Just keep your eyes on the prize all the time. 

It's also very important to choose the people you surround yourself with wisely. Find people who believe in you, those who will speak life into you when you are down. However, understand that these are people too with their own battles to face so do not expect them to carry your burdens for you, remember that you are your own army. Some people will actually help but some would not be able to, remember they also have their own battles (so don't feel bad) but they have words of wisdom to spare so take them, their words should be enough to help you keep going. Feed from their encouragements and let it fuel your fire. When you find yourself running low, go back to them and get some more. Some people pay for life coaching but if you're lucky to have wise friends and mentors then you are set for life. 

Listen to counsel and accept discipline, that you may be wise the rest of your days. Many plans are in a man’s heart, but the counsel of the Lord will stand. Proverbs 19:20-21

The journey will take you to different heights, there will be highs and there will be lows. Praise God for all of them. The highs are good, they will make you bold and boost your confidence. But the lows, oh those are the best ones, they make you strong! That’s when you know God is actually working on you. 

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. James 1:2-3

You will fall, you will break, you will stretch and you will need to go through all that so you can grow. So be thankful for those challenges. Trust the process.

Always believe that God has great plans for you. He will not abandon you and He will get you through the tough times. He is always good. In the highs and in the lows, He is good! So always thank Him. In the moments when you doubt yourself, that is the test, so keep pressing on. Remember that if it's not good yet, then it is not the end yet. 

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

When the time is right, I the Lord will make it happen. Isaiah 60:22

Indeed, He made it happen! I praise God who delivers His promises. This used to be only a dream and now we will live in it and it’s all because of Him!

I love you so much my Aussie babies, I will talk to you again soon!

Love,

Mama

[eretzyisrael]

The Hero that saved over 2,000 Lithuanian Jews during the Holocaust:

This month marks 122 years since Chiune Sugihara was born. Sugihara was a Japanese diplomat serving in Lithuania during the Nazi invasion of the country beginning in June of 1941. He issued visas to over 2,000 Lithuanian Jews during the Holocaust, saving their lives. Thanks to him, 40,000 descendants of those he saved are alive today.

When asked why he would defy his own governments orders endangering his and his families lives he simply answered, "My obedience to God and doing the right thing no matter the cost over ruled their orders." 

The forgotten history of Chiune Sugihara, the Oskar Schindler of Japan who is credited with secretly saving over 2,000 Jews from the Nazis. 

In the course of human existence, many people are tested. Only a few soar as eagles and achieve greatness by simple acts of kindness, thoughtfulness and humanity. This is the story of a man and his wife who, when confronted with evil, obeyed the kindness of their hearts and conscience in defiance of the orders of an indifferent government. These people were Chiune and Yukiko Sugihara who, at the beginning of World War II, by an ultimate act of altruism and self-sacrifice, risked their careers, their livelihood and their future to save the lives of more than 2,000 Jews. This selfless act resulted in the second largest number of Jews rescued from the Nazis.

Following the German invasion of Poland on September 1, 1939 hundreds of thousands of Jews and other Polish citizens fled eastward ahead of the advancing German army; many refugees found at least temporary safety in Lithuania. Options for escape were limited and required diplomatic visas to cross international borders. One route was through Asia using a combination of permits issued by foreign envoys responding to the refugee crisis: a bogus visa for entrance to the Dutch Caribbean island of Curaçao and a visa for transit through Japan.

One such diplomat was Japanese Imperial Consul Chiune Sugihara, the first Japanese diplomat posted in Lithuania. In the absence of clear instructions from his government in Tokyo, Sugihara granted 10-day visas to Japan to hundreds of refugees who held Curaçao destination visas. After issuing some 1800 visas, Sugihara finally received a response to his cables alerting the Foreign Ministry in Tokyo of the situation in Lithuania. The Foreign Ministry reported that individuals with visas headed for the United States and Canada had arrived in Japan without money or final destination visas. In his response, Sugihara admitted to issuing visas to people who had not completed all arrangements for destination visas explaining that Japan was the only transit country available for going in the direction of the United States, and his visas were needed to leave the Soviet Union.  

As the Nazi regime began tightening its chokehold on Europe, Japanese Consul-General Chiune Sugihara and his wife Yukiko watched with increasing concern as Lithuanian Jews were persecuted, driven out of their businesses, and forced away to “labor camps.” Finally, Sugihara decided enough was enough, and set out to bring the Jews of Europe onto Japanese soil and out of Hitler’s reach. The Japanese government, however, didn’t approve of the idea, and shut down Chiune’s request to issue visas for the fleeing Jews. In response — and in true Oskar Schindler fashion — Sugihara essentially told them to shove it, and began to write the visas by hand.

He and his wife ended up writing what some estimate to be around 2,000 visas for Lithuanian Jews, an incredible feat that’s even more unbelievable when you compare it to Oskar Schindler’s record of 1,200 saved through his work program. The last foreign officials to remain in Kuanas, Lithuania, save for a Dutch consul, Sugihara and his wife worked round the clock, issuing close to 300 visas a day and distributing them to the refugees who gathered outside of the Japanese consulate gates.

When Sugihara was finally ordered to leave, he continued to write visas and throw them from the train as he departed, and left his official visa stamp with one of the refugees so they could continue his work in his absence. It is estimated that he saved nearly all of the people who received visas, and after arriving in Japan, the Jewish refugees called themselves the Sugihara Survivors in honor of his bravery.

So why hasn’t his story been broadcasted like Schindler’s? Unfortunately, Japan was still operating under the samurai code of honor during this time, and to defy a superior was considered unforgivable. So rather than award their comrade for his contributions to the war, he was removed from his government position and forced to live in dishonor until his death in 1986.

Because of his efforts, Yad Vashem awarded him the title of “Righteous Among the Nations” in 1984.

Numerous shrines, statues, and parks in Japan and Israel were recently created to honor Sugihara and his family. 

The Giant Killer book & page honors these incredible heroes making sure their stories of valor and integrity are never forgotten. 

Story by Emma Liem

Via @The Giant Killer

Inbar Cohen - ענבר כהן

#Chiune and Yukiko Sugihara #WW2 #heros

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Falling For You But You Are Worlds Away: Chapter 1

Summary: After a close call with a reporter that resulted in Simon getting hurt, Linda makes a difficult and heartbreaking decision. Meanwhile, Wilhelm returns to Hillerska, hoping to at least rekindle his friendship with Simon, only to find that even that was no longer possible.

Title inspired by Taylor Swift's "Come Back, Be Here."

Note: So... after several weeks of obsessing... I finally did it... I finally wrote Young Royals fanfic. And, I really shouldn't because I have Grad school and a part-time job and I barely have time to breathe.Speaking of that, I probably won't have a consistent update. There might be times when I disappear for several weeks. Please be patient and understanding with me, I'm still trying to balance school and work.

AO3 link

It was supposed to be a normal day of running errands – a trip to the grocery store, dropping off mail at the post office, and maybe getting ice creams as a treat on the way home. But, no, Simon should have known better than to think that his life would somehow go back to normal during Christmas. After all, the prince had denied his involvement in the viral video and Simon had broken up with him to give both of them some space. This all happened only a week ago.

But, even after all that trouble and heartbreak, here he and his family were, being chased down their own street by paparazzi with their stupid cameras and fake sympathy.

“Simon, won’t you tell us your side of the story?”

“Is Prince Wilhelm lying? Are you in a relationship?”

“Mrs. Erikkson, how did you react when you found out your son may have been involved with the prince?”

“Don’t say anything,” his mother hissed in Spanish, clutching Simon and Sara’s arms tighter against her side.

The plastic bag of groceries was digging into Simon’s skin and he wished he could adjust his grip but he didn’t dare slow down. Those hyenas at his heels could catch them and he didn’t want to give them that satisfaction.

But, then, Sara let out a startled scream. A reporter had grabbed her arm, making her drop the groceries. Clementines rolled out of the bag and onto the pavement.

And, just like that, Simon saw red.

“Let go of her!”

He ripped his arm from his mother’s hold and lunged at the reporter, pushing him away from his shaking sister. The reporter, a middle-aged man who had probably been doing this for a long time, released Sara. But, before Simon could pull her away to safety, searing pain exploded at his cheek. He tasted the blood before he even realized what had happened.

His mom and Sara screamed.

The other reporters began to yell at the first one. Things like “What is wrong with you?!” and “Fuck, you can’t touch our sources like that! We’re gonna get sued!”

His name was being called. It sounded like Sara.

But, Simon, feeling dazed and tired, just stared up at the bright blue sky. He didn't even realize he had fallen to the ground. It was a nice day, though.

It should have been an ordinary nice day.

 .....

“Thank you, officer, we really appreciate your help.”

“Just doing our job, ma’am. Please don’t hesitate to call us over if you see any more suspicious individuals around your home. We’ll send someone over, immediately.”

“Thank you.”

Linda bid the police officers a good day and shut the door. With them gone, she finally lowered her mask and allowed the weariness of the day to manifest in her bones. She leaned back against the closed door, letting out the breath she had been holding.

No matter how many times she had dealt with the police, it never failed to make her exhausted. She should be used to this by now.

When she and the kids still lived with Micke, it wasn’t uncommon for neighbors to call the cops to complain about her ex-husband disturbing the peace. Mostly because he was yelling at her and the children. Sometimes, even hurting her. (He never touched the children. Linda never let him. The one and only time he almost laid a hand on Sara was finally when Linda finally gathered her children, important documents, and a few meager possessions and fled into the night.)

Linda believed that they were past all that. That in this new life she built for herself and her children, they would never have to call the police to their home or worry about their safety ever again. But, after what happened to Simon today, she could no longer hold on to that dream. Not for the time being.

She knew what she had to do to keep her son safe, even if it hurt her. Even if Simon would resent her. She hoped he wouldn’t. That he would see that she was doing this for him.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, Linda straightened her shoulders, lifted her head, and began to make her way back to the living room, where she could clearly hear her children bickering on the couch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sara asked her brother.

“I’m fine,” Simon answered, sounding annoyed. “He didn’t even hit me that hard.”

“You could have hit your head!”

“But, I didn’t.”

“You should have left him alone.”

“He touched you!”

Sara pressed her lips together and looked away as she dabbed ointment to her brother’s bruised lip. Simon flinched, which made his sister’s lips quirk to an amused smile.

But, despite her children looking seemingly okay, joking around and teasing each other the way they always did, Linda couldn't stop looking at that dark mark marring her son’s handsome face. 

Clearing her throat, she stepped into the living room.

“Mi amor, how are you feeling?” she asked, sitting on Simon’s other side.

“I’m fine, mama,” he replied, immediately. “It’s just a scratch, it will heal in a few days.” He grinned. “It makes me look badass though, right?”

Sara snorted. “More like reckless.”

“A reckless badass.”

“Mi amor,” Linda interrupted, gently, not wanting them to start bickering again. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Simon straightened up, looking serious. Linda’s chest felt heavy as she took his hand in hers and stroked it. Sometimes, she wished her children were still small and had no other care in the world except for what candy they could get at the grocery store that week.

“It’s about school,” she began.

“I’ll transfer back to Marieberg,” Simon said, misunderstanding where the conversation was going. “I don’t mind. Sara can stay at Hillerska, she has friends there now, I’m sure she’ll be fine. Besides, Rosh and Ayub are excited to have me back.”

Linda shook her head. “I don’t think you should go back to Marieberg either.”

At that, Simon’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I should go to another school? There aren’t any others close by.”

Linda sighed as she looked her son in the eye. “When the… video… first came out...”

Simon flinched and looked down at his feet.

“... I thought about how to… protect you. Especially after what happened today-.”

“Mama, I can handle it,” he interrupted, still unable to look at her. “I was fine today.”

“No, you weren’t,” Sara interjected. “You got punched.”

Simon glared at her. “They’re just reporters, I can handle them.”

Linda squeezed his hand. “It’s not just the reporters, Simon. It’s also… the others. Remember that boy from the other day? He followed you home! He could have hurt you!”

Simon's eyes flashed in anger at the memory. “But, he didn’t, you drove him away. And I would have been fine, I could take him.”

“That doesn’t stop me from worrying!”

Linda ran a hand through her hair, frustrated and cursing her son’s stubbornness. Unfortunately, that was one thing he inherited from Micke.

“Anything could have happened and I can’t protect you! Not at school, not at the grocery store, not even here at home! And do you know what that does to me?! I worry about you every time you’re out of my sight, Simon!” 

Unbidden tears brimmed at Linda’s eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had to be strong. She was making the right decision.

“A few weeks ago, I called your Tia Elena. She already knew what happened, the news reached them...”

“Oh, God!” Closing his eyes, Simon groaned and fell back against the couch.

“… and she actually suggested that… you go to live with her for a while.”

Almost immediately, Simon’s eyes snapped open and he sat up. “What?”

“I wasn’t sure, before, because I don’t want you to be away from us. But, after what happened with that boy from the other day and the reporters today… I think this is the best thing for you.”

“To send me to America?! That’s the best thing for me?!”

Simon pulled his hand away from her hold and stood up, presumably to stalk off to his room.

Linda tried to blink away the tears. “Simon, mi amor, please! This is the only way to keep you safe!”

“You’re sending me away! From you and Sara and my friends! My whole life is here!”

“It’s only until this all dies down, I promise. You can transfer back to Marieberg next school year. But, just for this term. Please, Simon.”

She watched Simon’s stiff back as he processed her pleas.

“W-What about a visa?” he asked and the hope in it broke her heart. “Don’t I need one of those? And they take time, don’t they? By the time they process it, school’s gonna start and I still have to travel and-.”

“You have an appointment with the U.S. Embassy the day after tomorrow,” Linda interrupted. “Your Tia Elena took care of everything. She even sent some money along to help with the fees.”

“Oh.” Simon’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “W-Would they even have room for me?”

“There’s only her and Ana now ever since Ricardo left them. And she says you can work at her store to earn some extra money, if you want.”

From the corner of her eye, Linda spotted Sara, who was unusually quiet. Her daughter was staring at her brother, her face unreadable. It was difficult to read Sara these days. But, Linda hoped that her daughter understood why she was doing this.

Sara didn’t want to leave Hillerska and that was fine, she had gone ahead and applied for that Grant to be a resident. But, even if Simon applied for a Grant too and became a resident, he would still get chased by reporters. He would still get recognized and followed by creeps and people who wanted to do him harm in Bjarstard. But, in America, with Linda’s older sister, he could be safe from the scandal.  

“Is there really no other way?” Simon asked, softly.

Getting to her feet, Linda moved towards her son and wrapped him in her arms.

“Mi amor, I know this is difficult for you. It is for me, too. I want nothing more than for you to stay here in Sweden with me and your sister. But, I want you to be safe. I want people to stop stalking you and bothering you about something so… traumatic. You don’t deserve that. You deserve to go to school and live your life in peace. In America, no one knows who you are. You can live normally again, go to school, and even… date someone new.”

Simon flinched in her arms and she regretted her words.

What Simon had with Wilhelm was truly special, something for the books, the kind of love story you often watch on T.V. and read about in books. She had never seen Simon as happy as he had been when he was with the prince, even if they thought Linda didn’t know. (Of course, she knew! She was his mother!) It was only a shame that their story ended in a tragedy that not only broke her son’s heart but also brought negative and unwanted attention onto his life.

“Simon, please,” she begged. “Just for a few months, I promise, mi amor. And, then, you can come home and life will be back to normal, I’m sure. Please.”

Time felt like it was slowing down as they stood there in the middle of the living room, Simon slowly breaking in her arms and Sara only watching helplessly.

Finally, her son let out a breath. “Okay,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll go.”

Linda burst into tears and buried her face against the fabric of Simon’s orange sweatshirt.

Despite her own heart breaking into pieces at the thought of being away from her son, she was also so incredibly relieved.

 ......... 

The Christmas break was too long, in Wilhelm’s opinion.

He spent most of it making required public appearances, sitting in on council meetings, and attending royal parties. He went about his duties like a robot, his emotions numb and something in him broken. His mother thought he would get over it if she threw enough things at him to keep him busy enough to not think of Simon. But, obviously, it didn’t work.

Simon was the first thing on his mind when he woke up in the mornings and the last thing he thought of before he slept at night. He had tried texting but his texts went unanswered. His calls would result in just ring after ring after ring until voicemail picked up. He spent many hours just scrolling through Simon’s Instagram, not seeing any new posts. Rosh, Ayub, and Sara had all blocked him so he couldn’t even see any posts of Simon, if there were any.

During the yearly Christmas party hosted by the Royal family, it was normally Erik who had to socialize and make nice with all the nobility and distant relatives who came. But, this year, Wilhelm had to do it. And it was fine, at first. He managed to remember some names and those he didn’t remember, he managed to sidestep with a polite “sir” or “ma’am.” But, then… But, then!

His mother introduced to him the daughter of a Duke whose name he couldn’t remember. With the way his mother smiled and practically pushed the girl to his side, Wilhelm knew exactly what she was doing. It ruined the rest of the party for him, as well as that poor girl’s Christmas. Wilhelm was so annoyed that he ignored her when she tried to make conversation. Eventually, he caused her to break into tears when he bluntly said that he didn’t care who designed her dress.

The Queen tried to scold him, called him a disgrace, and demanded that he get himself together. Wilhelm only shot her a blank look, excused himself, and left the party.

There were no more attempts at setting him up after that.

So, when Christmas break ended and it was time to return to Hillerska, he was relieved. He dutifully packed his things, including the small Christmas gift he got for Simon. He was hoping that even if they couldn’t restart their relationship, they could still be friends. Wilhelm would take anything Simon was able to offer him right now, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

“Your Royal Highness,” Malin called through the door. “You’re supposed to be at the church in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Malin!” Wilhelm called back to her.

The prince looked over his appearance in the mirror one last time, making sure his school tie was tied properly and his jacket free of lint. Not that Simon would care about those, but Wilhelm wanted to look his best, for once. He even got a haircut over break. He wondered if Simon did, too. He couldn’t wait to see him.

Feeling the anticipation brimming inside him, Wilhelm made his way out of his room. He joined the others in leaving Forest Ridge to head to the church. Ahead of him, Henry and Walter waved, pausing to let him catch up to them.

Despite their initial impression on Wilhelm, they really did mellow out the more he got to know them. And when the video came out, they were the only ones who didn’t look at him weirdly (at least, not blatantly to his face) and never once asked about the video. They even texted him a Merry Christmas over break. He would take their company over August’s.

And, speaking of the devil, there was his traitor of a cousin now, pushing through the other boys to get to him. Wilhelm quickened his steps, not wanting to get caught in a conversation. He had successfully avoided him during the Christmas party at the palace after giving firm instructions to Malin and Johan to ensure that he didn’t get close to Wilhelm.

Luckily, his bodyguards were most likely doing exactly that as Wilhelm made it to the church and slipped into a pew without August catching up to him. Henry and Walter slid in after him, chatting about their holidays.

“Wonder what they’re singing this time,” Walter wondered aloud.

“Hope it’s something good,” Henry added.

Wilhelm only smiled, his annoyance at August finally melting away and replaced by excitement to see Simon and hear him sing again. Christmas break was too long.

Finally, the whole church had filled up and the Headmaster signaled for everyone to be quiet.

The choir entered.

Wilhelm spotted Felice and gave her a small wave. She had remained a great friend to him throughout the break.

As the choir began their song, Wilhelm scanned the heads, looking for that familiar head of curls. Someone else was doing a solo this time, a girl he didn’t know and her voice was nice but it wasn’t Simon. Why wasn’t Simon doing the solo?

Wilhelm couldn’t even hear the song or decipher the lyrics. His eyes desperately scanned all three rows but he couldn’t spot Simon.

Where was Simon?!?! Did he miss the first day of school?!?!

But, Sara was just a few pews ahead. She wouldn’t leave home without her brother.

The excitement that had earlier filled him turned into fear.

Did Simon quit the choir?!

Not caring about how it looked, Wilhelm scanned the pews across from them and the pews behind him, trying to spot those curls. But… he couldn’t see them. Not one strand.

The choir had finished singing now and the Headmaster had stood up to welcome them to another semester, go over the rules of the dorms, and list the school administration’s expectations from their students.

All of it went over Wilhelm’s head.

And, finally, they were dismissed to go to their first class of the day.

Wilhelm shot up and, muttering apologies to Henry and Walter, made his way out of the pew. He ignored the “hello’s” sent his way and hurried to the front.

Sara and Maddie were chatting with each other as they made their way down the aisle, all excited smiles and talking about how wonderfully Felice sang.

“Sara!”

The girl slowed down and froze upon seeing him. He saw the anger flash in those normally calm eyes. Then, she turned her gaze away and walked past him.

Wilhelm was not giving up.

He turned around and gave chase. “Sara! Sara, wait! I just need to ask you something.”

“I have nothing to say to you, Prince,” she seethed, not stopping.

He hated to do it but he gently grasped the arm of her school jacket. “Please, I need to ask you. Where’s Simon?”

Sara pulled her arm away, glaring at him. “Why do you ask?”

Wilhelm swallowed. “He didn’t sing with the choir. And I can’t find him anywhere and I just-.”

“He doesn’t go to Hillerska anymore.”

Wilhelm’s heart stopped. “What?”

Sara shrugged, turned on her heels, and walked away. Maddie shot Wilhelm a pitying look before hurrying off after her.  

His chest felt tight. And it seemed like there wasn’t enough air for him to breathe.

Simon... left?

#young royals #young royals netflix #simon x wilhelm #young royals fanfic

[slowly-writing]

Part of The Family: Civil War

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Part 1

Word Count: 5.2k

Requested by me: ...okay but hear me out. Part of the family, during Civil War.

A/N:  This is pretty angst, but I promise there’s a happy ending. I hope you all enjoy this, I loved diving back into this universe for a bit! I tried to stay as neutral as possible, but you can probably tell who’s side I was on. 

The mission in Logos was not one you wish to remember. It reminds you of the conversation you had with your mom after she got back from Sokovia. Missions like this one are the exact reason she doesn't want you in the field. The fact that you all made it out alive and relatively uninjured is practically a miracle. Sure you’ve got a few broken ribs and your mom for sure has a concussion she keeps denying, but you all walked away. You just want to relax, heal, and forget the whole thing happened.

The news, however, has other ideas. Every channel is playing the explosion on repeat. What is probably the worst moment of your life being played again and again for the world to see. The worst part is the blatant attack they’re throwing towards Wanda. The girl saved your life and the lives of countless others in that crowd. There were casualties and it was tragic, but the things they’re saying are absurd. You’re enhanced too, but you weren’t the one who wasn’t strong enough, so now she’s the monster.

You haven’t seen MJ since you got back, the swarm of paparazzi and news vans outside the tower is far too thick for either of you to break through, but you know she agrees with you, and something tells you you’re going to need that support pretty soon.

“People died and that’s on me,” you hear your father’s voice as you walk up to Wanda’s room.

“That’s on both of us,” she retorts and they both look down solemnly, feeling guilty.

“That’s on hydra. If you don’t want to put the blame where it really belongs, which as I said is on them, then fine. It’s on all of us. We’re a team. This isn’t on just any one of us, we were all there. We all could’ve done something different today and the outcome doesn’t fall on any single person, just like it wouldn’t have if we had done well,” you say firmly as you sit beside your dad on Wanda’s bed.

“This job...we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn’t mean everybody. But if we can’t find a way to live with it then next time, maybe nobody gets saved,” your dad says and you nod in agreement. It’s the hardest part, the people you don’t save, but you have to focus on the good parts. If you don’t, the bad will eat you up until there’s no more good at all.

A knock on the door startles all three of you out of your thoughts. You glance up to see Clint standing in the doorway. The look on his face practically screams trouble, and you almost don’t want to know what he’s going to say. “Tony’s back,” he finally says, “and he brought a guest.”

“We know who it is?”

“The secretary of state,” he says stiffly before walking out.

“This…” you look between the two, “can’t be good.”

xxxxx

You glance around the table, your whole family glaring at the accords. At Ross. At each other. You can see the lines being drawn around you and it makes you want to run and hide like the scared kid you feel like at the moment.

Then the bickering starts. Calculations are being run, and people are making arguments. Your dad and Tony being the loudest among the group.

“We may not be perfect but the safest hands are still our own,” your dad argues and Tony’s disagreement is clear.

“If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact and it won’t be pretty,” he says and Wanda tenses.

“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” her voice is barely above a whisper and you speak up for the first time.

“They’ll come for both of us. You’re not the only one with powers that scare them and I don’t know about you but I don’t fancy being locked in a cell until I’m deemed useful,” you grit out and your mom is the next to speak up, but to your surprise it’s not to agree with you.

“Maybe Tony’s right,” she says and all the heads in the room snap towards her. All confused, and none more than you. “If we have one hand on the wheel we can still steer. If we take it off-”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam asks and she sighs.

“I’m just-I’m reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win back their trust.”

“I’m sorry did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?” Tony teases and you glare at him.

“Oh I wanna take it back now,” she looks like she’s in pain, and you know the feeling.

“No no you can’t retract it,” as Tony proclaims his victory your dad is the first to leave the room and the team slowly scatters. You stay firmly planted in your seat, your eyes locked on the floor as the words they said sink in. Mainly those of your parents, and they make you sick. Not because of your own view, but of the fact that’s becoming clear. You’re all going to have to pick a side, and they’re not going to be on the same one.

xxxxx

Everyone seemed to be jetting off to different places around the world, having meetings in secret and not telling each other the details of them. You stayed home and tried to ignore it all. You even tried to go to school one day, but the stares and whispers made it impossible to even walk in the front doors. It was like the entire student body froze at the sight of you, so you stayed in the tower with Wanda who couldn’t bring herself to step outside, and occasionally MJ, but only when she could sneak away. Her parents didn’t want her to get mixed up in your mess and you couldn’t really blame them. Peter was always at home. There was no way he could get to the tower without his identity getting revealed and you had a sinking feeling Tony was only telling him one side of the story.

Over the next few weeks things only got messier. Your dad, trying to help, has become a war criminal. Your mom is in Vienna trying to fix everyone’s mess. And with your parents gone you and Wanda are locked in the tower, told by Tony you couldn’t leave for safety reasons. You still couldn’t figure out if he was trying to protect you or protect everyone else from you.  

“Mom, how is everyone?” you ask, propping the phone up so both you and Wanda could be seen on the small screen. You had just seen your dad get arrested on the news and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

“Everything’s going to be fine. Tony and your father are talking right now,” she says, walking towards the conference room, close enough for all three of you to hear their voices.

“I’d file the motion to have you, y/n, and Wanda reinstated-” Tony speaks first.

“What about y/n and Wanda?” Your dad’s voice joins in, and you realize he has no idea what’s happening with you.

“They’re fine, they’re confined to the tower. There’s worse ways to protect people,” Tony tries only to be cut off again.

“Protection? Is that how you see this? This is protection? This is internment Tony-” It’s your dad’s turn to get cut off

“She’s not a US citizen and y/n doesn’t even have a birth certificate. They don’t grant visas to weapons of mass destruction!” Tony screams.

“They’re kids! She’s my kid!” There’s a long silence where all you can hear is your heart beating in your ears. You see your mom look at you, heart break visible on her face, and you know it’s because of the tears pooling in your eyes.

“Girls,” your mom says gently, she’s walking away from the argument, but you can’t take any more.

“I’ve gotta go,” you quickly end the call, walking to the window and staring out at the city. That was the moment you lost all your trust in your family. It’s also the moment you pick a side. Sure, Tony and your dad both have valid arguments, and you haven’t quite decided who is right, but you refuse to fight for someone who just called you and your best friend ‘weapons of mass destruction’. Sure MJ once said it as a joke, but that was different. She never meant it. After all these years, you can’t believe that Tony does. You can’t believe that's what he thinks of you. After the way he’s been there for you and helped raise you, he still thinks of you as a weapon waiting to fall into the wrong hands, and you refuse to side with someone who thinks so little of you.

“We need to go,” you say suddenly.

“And where would you suggest we go?” Wanda asks as you tighten your hands into fists, trying to control the anger you feel bubbling up.

“Anywhere but here! You said it yourself. They’re going to come for us, and I don’t see anyone here trying to help. Staying here and doing nothing we’re sitting ducks. We both know this is gonna come to a fight. So we might as well make our way to them,” you tell here and there’s a long silence until you hear Clint's voice behind you.

“I think I can help with that.”

xxxxx

You watch everyone else pile out of the van and greet your dad, Sam, and who you assume to be Bucky. You take a deep breath before following, standing a bit behind Wanda as Clint talks to the group. Your dad’s eyes meeting yours as he steps away from Clint to meet you.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he says and you smile weakly.

“None of us did, and yet here we are. Mom’s not with us on this, is she?” He looks to the floor and you don’t need an answer, the sadness in his eyes is enough.

“We're outside the law on this one, if you do this, you’re a wanted woman,” he says and you nod.

“Ever since I found out about the serum, I promised to do what’s right. I’m not gonna let a little thing like the law stop me now,” he chuckles at your words until an alarm starts going off.

“Suit up,” he calls to the group and with that you all get ready, your dad being the first on the tarmac. You stay back in the shadows to listen while your dad and Tony go back and forth for a while, but your breath catches as your mom steps into the group.

“Steve, you know what’s about to happen. Do you really want to punch your way out of this one?” Before he can answer Tony’s yelling and all the sudden Peter is behind Tony with your dad’s shield in his hand. Tony starts yelling at Steve to give up and for a second you think he’s going to, until you hear Sam’s voice saying they found the quinjet. Then Clint shoots his hands free and you step forward.

“Dad!” you yell, and when he glances back you toss your shield to him. Your mom’s eyes widen as she realises you’re here, and you’re starting to realise how little either of your parents have paid attention to your whereabouts throughout this whole thing. Sure, you’re 17, but you’d think they’d pay a little attention to your wellbeing. But you shake it off. Now isn’t the time to mope, you’re gonna need all your energy to do what you have to do.

The fighting starts and you freeze, realizing how not ready you are for this, you see your mom take out Scott as Rhodey goes for your dad. You get your dad’s shield from where Scott dropped it and watch in horror as your dad throws a truck at your mom, literally. And then, as much as you don’t want to, you follow him towards the quinjet. You’ve made your decision and there’s no going back now.

Tony’s team cuts you off and the two sides line up. It’s all very dramatic and you lock your jaw, trying to stay calm.

“What do we do, dad?” you ask.

“We fight,” he says firmly.

“Well, this is gonna end well,” you hear your mom say from the other line and you silently agree.

Everyone starts running towards each other and you tighten your grip on your shield. You find yourself dodging the cars Wanda throws as you punch a literal king in the face. He comes back strong, the claws of his suit tearing into your arm. You use your shield to knock him back into Clint’s range, and he takes over. You spin around to see who’s alone and see your mother with her gaze locked on you. She runs towards you and you use her momentum against her. You flip her over your shoulder but she quickly recovers kicking the shield from your hands and landing a solid punch to your side.

“I don’t want to do this y/n,” she says and you catch her fist, once again flipping her but this time she lands on her feet.

“And you think I do?” you yell over the chaos and suddenly a red mist encases the foot that was aimed at your chest. Your head snaps to Wanda as she sends your mom flying into a nearby vehicle.

“You were pulling your punches,” she says before running off and you glare after her before turning to Peter and slicing his web with your shield.

“Peter, go home. You don’t understand what’s happening here,” you plead.

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that.” he says before sending more webs flying at you. He grabs you by the ankle, sending you into a luggage cart before chuckling, “he also said to go for your legs.”

He shoots your hands and you use the webs to send him against the same luggage cart. He crumples to the ground and you hesitate for a moment before running the other way.

“We gotta go now,” your dad says and you sigh.

“No, you gotta go. If we’re gonna win this, some of us aren’t getting out of here,” you say, running towards the fight in the middle of the tarmac.

“I’m not leaving here without you. Your my family,” his words break your heart, and you know to get him to leave you’ll have to break his.

“No I’m not. I’m just some kid you felt obligated to help. Hydra screwed with me, it’s not your job to clean it up. Bucky’s always been family. Get him out of here. Who knows, maybe they’ll go easy on me. I am a kid after all.”

“Y/n-” you cut your dad off.

“Steve, go. Bucky you and him need to get to the jet. Scott, you remember that thing you were telling me about on the plane ride here?” you ask and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head, “do that. And try not to split yourself in half. On his signal, everybody move.”

Scott soon grows to a ridiculous height and then all hell really breaks loose. Your only goal is making sure they get to the jet, and trying not to think about what’ll happen to you when they do.

After a bit more fighting you see the jet take off and the dust finally starts to settle. You glance around attempting to see who you can help, but instead you see police all with their eyes set on you and Wanda. You take a step back, trying to find somewhere to run, only to realize you’re surrounded. Slowly putting your hands in the air you kneel down, it’s easy to see you’ve lost and you don’t fight it as the shackles lock around your wrists. They’re hightech, clearly meant to withstand any enhanced ability and you see the same kind being put on Wanda. You glance over to your mom standing across the tarmac, you expect her to yell, tell them to let you go, at least have the decency to look upset. But she just watches as you’re shoved into the back of an armored van.

xxxxx

You look around the cell you’ve found yourself in. Your left wrist is shackled to the wall, apparently they don’t deem the two inch thick bulletproof cell wall enough to keep you restrained. After hours off pulling at the chains, your wrist becoming bloody and raw, you’ve given up on trying to get out of them. You’re still better off than Wanda, who is sitting across from you with a shock collar and a straight jacket. If you didn’t want to kill the people who put you here before, that image was enough to make the impulse arise.

You’re arranged in a circle, able to see the people around you, you may not have known all of them for long, but you know none of them deserve this. After the way you’ve been treated you’re starting to think nobody deserves this, you wouldn’t wish this on the worst Hydra had to offer. As you look at the faces around you, you can’t help but think of their families, how much Clint’s kids must miss him. How Scott’s daughter feels losing her father for a second time. It makes you wonder if your mom has even batted an eye. She sure didn’t seem to care that they carted you away in the first place. You start to wonder if she ever even cared at all, or if it was all some elaborate cover, maybe something set up by Fury to make you willing to work for them. They treated you like family to your face, but conspired against you behind closed doors. You’re reanalyzing every interaction you can remember when the door to the cell block opens.

Tony walks in in a sling and Clint starts clapping “the futurist gentlemen! The futurist is here! He sees all. He knows what’s best for you. Whether you like it or not.”

“Give me a break Barton. I had no idea they’d put you here,” he snaps back and you stand, walking towards the glass only to get yanked back by the chain around your wrist pulling against the wall.

“Well, you knew they’d put us somewhere, Tony,” you grit out. For a second his eyes soften before he’s speaking again.

“Yeah but not some supermax floating ocean pokey. This place is for maniacs this is a place for…” he trails off but Clint finishes for him.

“Criminals? Criminals Tony. Think that’s the word you’re looking for, right? That didn’t used to mean me. Or Sam, or Wanda. Or y/n, the girl YOU helped raise!” Clint yells before his voice drops low again, “but here we are.”

“Because you broke the law,” Tony says. As if that’s all this means. As if it’s all that simple. “I didn’t make you.”

“You better watch your back with this guy!” Clint says, slamming his fist into the cell wall as Tony starts walking around the circle, “there’s a chance he’s gonna break it.”

Tony walks, looking at all of you as if you’re animals in a zoo. He bickers with Scott and then Sam before stopping in front of you. You lock your jaw, ignoring the tears gathering in both of your eyes. “What do you need? Did they feed you yet?”

“Oh so now you’re the good cop? The caring uncle?” you snap, shaking the chain on your wrist, “does it look like we’re getting five star treatment here?”

“I just need to know where Steve went,” he says calmly, and you’ve never wanted to punch somebody more.

“You better go get a bad cop then. Cause I’m not giving up my father.”

“You see that? I just knocked the A out of their AV, we have about 30 seconds before they realize it’s not their equipment,” he says, messing with his watch. “Clearly I made a mistake, y/n. I was wrong.”

“Well that’s a first,” you quip.

“Cap is definitely off the reservation but he’s about to need all the help he can get.”

“Then get me out of here so I can help him,” you grit out, but he shakes his head.

“Y/n, you’ve known me for years. You know who I am,” he tries to argue.

“No I don’t. The Tony I knew never would’ve let them lock us up like this,” you say with a glare.

“I’m trying to help,” He says calmly and you contemplate your options for a minute. You clearly can’t help from in here, and Tony’s telling the truth, right? He has to be, he wouldn’t betray you again. Would he?

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise he won’t end up in here.”

“I promise,” he says, and you take his word.

xxxxx

“Hey Clint,” you call softly, leaning back against the freezing wall of your cell. You ignore the way you’re shaking, and the way your lips feel cold, undoubtedly starting to turn blue. There may be a bed in here, but they made sure the chain would keep you away from it, not that you’d sleep anyway. You don’t trust them enough to let your guard down like that.

“Yeah, kid?” his voice is just as soft, and he sounds as exhausted as you feel.

“Do you think we’re ever getting out of here?” you hear the sharp intake of breath and everyone in the room is looking at you. Before he can answer the doors open once again. You look down, not ready for whatever is walking though, only to see two familiar sets of shoes stop in front of your cell. You stand quickly, trying to make your way to them but the jerking of the chains snap you back into reality as you stumble back towards the wall. You watch as your parents eyes move to the shackle on your red wrist, dried blood covering your forearm from where you tried to pull out of it.

“Get her out of there,” your dad says, his jaw clenched and Ross steps forward, begrudgingly putting a code into the keypad on the wall. Suddenly everyone’s cell doors slide open, a few guards move to take Wanda’s collar and straight jacket off while one unlocks the shackle on your wrist. As soon it’s off your mom steps forward, presumably to hug you but you flinch away, back slamming against the wall.

“Y/n, it’s okay,” she says, raising her hands slowly as if you’re an animal she doesn’t want to startle.

“Okay?” You snap, “what part of this is okay? The part where we were fighting each other in an airport 36 hours ago? Or the last 24 that I’ve spent in this cell? The chains around my wrist? The collar on Wanda’s neck? Maybe the fact that I haven’t been given food since before Germany. Or the fact that I’m sure I would have passed out from exhaustion by now if I weren’t so scared of what happened if I fell asleep. The part where they tried to torture me for your location? Have you ever been waterboarded before? Because I have, and let me tell you, it’s not fun,” you ask your dad before turning to your mom. “Maybe the part where I had to watch my family fall apart in front of my eyes, or the part where you watched them arrest me and did nothing,” angry tears are welling in your eye for what seems like the hundredth time in the last few days. “None of this is okay.”

There’s a silence in the room as everyone takes in what you’ve said. Your parents are looking around, waiting for someone to disagree with you, tell them you’re exaggerating what’s happened to you, but nobody does.

“You’re right. None of this is okay. What happened is not okay, but we’re leaving now. We’re going to get you all out of here, and we’re going to start making it better,” your mom says gently, her voice cracking. You let her take your hand now, wincing as her fingers brush against your wrist, “we’re going to make this okay.”

xxxxx

Apparently “getting out of here” did not mean going home. It meant cleaning up in the bathroom on the jet and going straight to capitol hill for a special hearing congress was holding to decide whether or not you should be pardoned. You were sitting outside with Wanda because apparently you were allowed to be held captive and tortured for war crimes, but you weren’t allowed to listen in on a congressional hearing until you were eighteen.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask her, trying to break the silence. You almost regret asking as she starts to shake a bit.

“I will be,” is all she says, silently taking your hand and leaning into your side. You understand the feeling, and the need for comfort. So you sit silently, gripping her hand tightly as you try to relax. The two of you sit for a while longer until you see your parents exiting the meeting room, eyes set on you.

“They want to hear from you.”

“What?” your jaw drops at your mom’s words.

“They want the perspective of someone who knows the team, someone who can understand why we did what we did. They decided that was you,” your dad says and you nod, standing on shaky legs and walking into the courtroom. There’s cameras flashing everywhere and reporters yelling questions. You set your eyes to the front, your mom’s hand on your back pushing you forward until you reach the microphone. You carefully sit in front of it, crossing your hands on the desk to hide how hard they are shaking.

“Please state your name for the record,” the congressman says as the room quiets down.

“Y/n Romanoff-Rogers,” you say into the microphone, wincing at the feedback as you get too close.

“You are here today to speak on why you believe the actions taken after the Sokovia Accords were signed were rational, and why your team should be released from federal custody, free of any and all charges. You may proceed,” he says and you take a deep breath, trying not to think about how badly this could end for you if this goes south.

“I’ve seen the Avengers in a light that no one else truly has. You all get to see the badass superheroes-am I allowed to say badass in court?” you glance at your parents, your mom stifling a laugh as your dad rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you see them save lives. I get more than that. I got to see the side that took in a 12 year old girl, because she had nowhere else to go. They could’ve turned me away, sent me packing. Plenty of other foster homes did, six to be exact. But they took a chance on me and I got to see them as a family. My mom, who sat by my bed all night for the first few weeks that I lived with them, because I had nightmares when I was alone. Who tried as hard as she possibly could to keep me out of the field, even though I could pick up my motorcycle with one hand, because all she wanted was for me to be safe. My dad, who told awful jokes and teased me about the crushes I had. Who was gentle and kind despite being twice my size.

“I got to see the side of Wanda who was a scared teenager, just wanting to fit in like everyone else. Who wanted nothing more than to do right by her family and the people she loved. I got to see them all as people, not heroes. Everyone in that tower just wants to do what’s right and what’s best for everyone, and this time we couldn’t agree. A lot was on the line. Not just a failed mission, or a few injuries to deal with. It was the destruction of everything we’d all worked so hard for. It was jail time in a place I know I’ll be having nightmares about for years to come. The people we were dealing with had no problem sending people to a military black site. Had no problem sending two teenagers there, and torturing them to get what they wanted. And that scared us all, to the point where we were willing to lose everything we had to do what we believed was right. Maybe we were wrong, maybe we weren’t, but there’s no saying the people put in charge would have always been right either.

“Too many of the people on my team know what it’s like to have no say. To be used as a weapon in someone else’s agenda. There was no way any of us could let that happen again, even if it meant losing everything. We broke the law, yes, but historically laws haven't always been right. Mankind has done awful things that were perfectly fine in the eyes of the law. Locking my family away was legal. It doesn’t make any of it right.”

“Thank you, Miss Romanoff-Rogers,” the congressman says before the room is emptied for the voting, and you’re sent home to wait. It all seems very anticlimactic, but if you’re going back to prison, you’re not going to say no to one more night in your own bed first. The ride back to the tower is silent, everyone’s nerves are palpable but nobody is ready to talk about it. You step out of the van to a sea of photographers and people yelling your name, but one shout in particular stands out. You see MJ weaving her way through the crowd and grin as she slams into your arms. You hold her tight for a few moments, before pulling her away and ushering her inside.

“How are you?” she asks once you’re in the elevator, not caring that your family is listening in. You shake your head, letting out a long breath before answering.

“Tired. Stressed. Scared. Exhausted. Glad that you’re here,” you list off and she smiles.

“Considering you said two different versions of being tired, it sounds like the first thing on the agenda is a nap,” she says and you chuckle a bit, the rest of your family nodding in agreement.

“I’d say so. We’ve been awake for, what...two days?”

“Three,” Wanda corrects as you all step out into the common room.

“Yeah, a nap is definitely the move right now,” you grab MJ’s hand leading her towards your room.

“Leave the door open!” your dad calls after you as you flop onto the bed. You roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. Nothing is back to normal yet. Nothing is fixed. It’s quite the opposite actually. You have relationships to mend, trust that needs to be earned back on both sides, a lot to talk about, and a lot of trauma that needs to be worked through, but laying here with MJ in your arms and your family all back on the same side, it seems like a step in the right direction. 

Tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @prizmix-and-friends @worlds-in-words @im-salt-but-not-salty @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @stop-drop-and-drumroll

Series tag list: @hannahsairwas @niquey-salvatore @ibe-anne @lostlittlenerd @youarethereasonimsmiling @ohfuckno @marvelousmendess @jelly-fishy-babie @whattheheckisevengoingon

#avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #marvel x readear #marvel x teen!reader #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #black widow x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #black widow x daughter!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #civil war #captain America civil war #part of the family #kid fic #potf: Civil war #potf civil war #potf

[appleflavoredkitkats]

dream smp war 2 updates

doing a second chain post! i thought it would be appropriate if i did since it seems like there’s a new era of wars coming our way. 

(this post will keep updating by reblogged additions, so feel free to save this post somewhere or follow me to check for new updates every now and then!)

and ya’know, i thought wouldn’t be able to do this, but i realize that where else am i gonna infodump but here? so yea. here i go again.

(if you wanna check the first dream smp war post-war updates, it’s here!)

without further ado, time to explain whatever the heck just happened last stream! timeline of events might be funky because a lot of things happened, but i’ll try my best to at least mention everything that went down in the streams.

wilbur, tommy, tubbo, eret, quackity, and a confused hbomb’s stream - september 22

summary: schlatt and quackity win presidency, tommy and wilbur are exiled, some friends have become traitors, some foes have become allies, and technoblade joins the game.

the first streams that came from this honestly were very calm. legit the calm before the storm. tubbo was hanging out with niki, eret, and hbomb and eret reveals to tubbo that his first pufferfish that was stolen by fundy was actually in eret’s possession all along. eret gladly returns the beloved pufferfish to tubbo, and they rename it back to it’s original name “phukkit”.

then, everyone begins going in the server as each campaign stands on the podium waiting for the event to begin. wilbur, tommy, and tubbo first stray away from the group for a bit to watch l’manberg one last time. tubbo introduces to them his secret bunker in the lake for them to seek refuge just in case pog2020 loses. inside the bunker’s chests are some freshly brewed potions for wilbur and tommy to use in the future.

tubbo then brings tommy to the benches outside tommy’s little house and they play one more music disc together. here, tubbo gifts tommy the pufferfish he just gained earlier today, and tommy promised to treasure it dearly.

now, the event begins, and wilbur begins announcing the results. luckily, everyone is here this time. in last place is coconut2020. a funny thing about this is that fundy actually committed tax fraud and got around 100,000+ votes to be counted in the google form just from coding some bot to vote for them. in third place is schlatt, in second is quackity, and pog2020 wins the number one vote.

here’s where the plot twist happens: quackity and schlatt apparently agreed to combine their votes if pog2020 doesn’t win. therefore, quackity and schlatt got 47% of the votes as pog only got 46%, making schlatt and quackity the shared president of l’manberg. tommy protests to these decisions, but wilbur accepts it with ease, and the two merely step down the podium in shame as they watch schlatt take a speech.

schlatt went on full dictator mode-- the first decree he signed as president is to revoke wilbur and tommy’s presence in l’manberg, exiling them. tommy was confused at first before wilbur demanded him to run to the bunker. schlatt immediately conducts a search party for him, electing tubbo as his right hand man to personally hunt the two down. obviously, tubbo would do it hesitantly, and he doesn’t actually get to meet the two in the bunker at all.

a lot of the nation was quite torn from the election results. quackity and george seem to be supportive of schlatt, niki, tubbo, and eret seem to despise schlatt, and fundy and jack seem to just blindly support him as well despite being l’manbergians. punz, ponk, and hbomb were there as well, but it was quite difficult to know who they were siding with since they kinda just got pushed around by everyone at the end.

using invisibility potions, wilbur and tommy escape the bunker to go somewhere in the forest to find their new home. they find a nice hill to make a small house in, and they later name this new nation “pogtopia”. they run into some conflicts though as wilbur and tommy forget to bring an enderchest with them, and they need some of the materials in them now if they want to build up a defense.

and then, in the middle of nowhere, techno tweeted:

wilbur claims he doesn’t want to trust techno right away because he was american, but they do consider having him as an ally later on.

firstly, let’s get back to l’manberg. upon schlatt’s request, the walls of l’manberg are being torn down. i heard somewhere that this might’ve been done thanks to fundy’s suggestion, but i’m not sure. everyone complies, and wilbur and tommy visit l’manberg one last time before it gets taken apart. as they watch fundy and tubbo tear down the wall, wilbur sings the l’manbergs national anthem. (the wall also eventually gets expanded past l’manberg, but i’m not sure how far they’ve built it)

speaking of fundy, fundy’s kind of in a weird place right now. he seems to unhesitantly side with schlatt in this election, and allows his policies easily as if he didn’t care about anyone else in l’manberg. knowing this, wilbur actually disowns fundy. it wasn’t in front of him, but he does say that he is extremely hurt by him in front of techno and tommy.

before i talk about the rescue of techno, we gotta go back to quackity and schlatt for a bit. quackity actually caught tommy visiting his place to get an enderchest, but i believe he doesn’t tell schlatt about it. quackity is quite interesting because while he does believe in some of the policies schlatt believes in, he also believes that schlatt is taking this dictatorship too far. even he thought exiling tommy and wilbur was a big deal, and he aims to be the voice of reason to be able to change schlatt’s mind about his policies. moreover, he wants to discuss matters with tommy and wilbur as well to get on their side too, but wilbur doesn’t wanna talk to quackity because, fourth wall break, he believes they’re progressing far into the story too much if they do, and honestly, valid reason lmao.

do note that quackity is trying his best to tear down schlatt’s evil dictatorship. he’s secretly been advocating for niki and is helping her escape schlatt’s grasp when she needs it, and he eventually talked to schlatt near the end of the stream to be more mindful of quackity’s opinions because without him, schlatt wouldn’t have won. there’s some toxic relationship plot device being used here between schlatt and quackity, and i’m interested to see how this will all play out.

back to tommy and wilbur, they call techno and actually consider his help. tommy says he will run back to spawn and tell him when to join so that he can bring him to their secret base. eret tries to help them and supply them with goods, but tommy and wilbur refuses his help profusely. finally, when tommy reaches spawn, techno joins, and my god, all the three streams i watched just went “TECHNOBLADE????” all at once. 

on schlatt’s end, he claims that techno’s arrival was part of schlatt’s plan all this time. on the other hand, techno claims he’s only here for wilbur and tommy. i fully believe techno would be with wilbur and tommy, but of course, i can never be sure. just don’t discount the possibility of a traitor!techno happening sometime soon.

even if ponk tried to kill techno and tommy as they tried to escape, tommy was able to kill ponk before techno got hurt. they eventually arrived to pogtopia, and there, wilbur declares that he will be a different man from what they know of him pre-election. i’m thinking there’s going to be more violence surrounding the war, and also some strategic planning. they want to get tubbo as a secret agent for them to tear schlatt and quackity apart, eventually leading to the downfall of the dictatorship. niki might also be someone crucial here because she and wilbur have been exchanging messages secretly, so there’s going to be some niki action too.

then, schlatt makes another announcement. after the walls have been torn down, he declares l’manberg gets a new name-- manberg. niki protests, and wilbur and tommy and rightfully disgusted, but schlatt wasn’t going to do anything about it.

everyone in pogtopia, before they can stack up on some resources, have to go back to the dream smp because they comedically have to get a visa for one day for when ninja joins the minecraft server. they were greeted peacefully (and techno steals some potatoes!!!), and it was definitely fun to see so many people in the server all at once. evetually, schlatt does grant them the visa, and they leave. they talk to tubbo one last time, and tubbo warns them about techno being allegedly “paid” by schlatt to betray tommy and wilbur. tommy regards it for now, but after that, they leave to return to pogtopia.

in pogtopia, they begin mining for resources. in the ravine they found below their base, tommy found a strip mine that leads EXACTLY BACK to his bunker. this will be used for a secret passage for them just in case they discreetly want to return to the dream smp.

this is kinda where the main plot stuff ends for wilbur and tommy’s streams, but in eret’s stream, apparently he and bad found pogtopia. they find techno silently, gifting him with potatoes, and leaving promptly after.

on quackity’s end, he’s really trying to convince schlatt to become more open-minded about this entire presidency. there’s some real tension going on between these two, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if they break it off for quackity to join pogtopia. it really seems like they’re hinting it to become that way.

now, it seems like everything’s done, but nope. on eret’s stream, fundy single handedly burned down the l’manberg flag that niki built. FUNDY BETRAYAL AND ERET REDEMPTION ARC. niki is LIVID at fundy, but she wasn’t able to talk to him as he left the server immediately. we don’t know what fundy’s true intentions are, but it’s assumed that he’s siding with schlatt for now. eret at least tells niki they’ll try to rebuild it with concrete so it can’t be destroyed.

JUST AS ALL THIS SHIT CONCLUDES, SAPNAP JOINS. he only joins so he can catch up with everything he missed. eret and niki explain everything to him, and sapnap says he will have to talk to dream about this. he then leaves afterwards.

conclusion: BE HYPED. BE HYPED FOR PLOT. SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION TO THE ENTIRETY OF THE DREAM SMP FOR THIS AMAZING PLOT. DON’T SEND THEM HATE; MAKE CONTENT FOR IT INSTEAD. these people probably worked hard improv-ing/making plots for these, so show your love and appreciation for them!!!!!

#dream smp war #dream smp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #tubbo #fundy #nihachu #theeret #jschlatt #quackity #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #technoblade

[backalley-requests]

The Proposal | Chapter One

The Proposal Masterlist

Summary: The Proposal™ au, where Ivar gets swept away in a lie about a fake engagement to stay in the country and needs to convince everyone (including his family) that he’s genuinely engaged to a woman he works with

Warnings: use of the word cripple, mild swearing

Word Count: 1,967

With two cups of coffee in hand and a binder under your left arm, you exited the elevator. It was a delicate balancing act and you already managed to drop the binder once... five blocks from here. Admittedly, the coffees were far more important than that.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

Your head spun around to greet your coworker, a grin on your face. “Well good morning, Paola.” Work was always more pleasant before the boss came in. You walked over and sat upon her desk, enjoying the few minutes of chatter everybody engaged in. It wouldn’t last much longer.

“Did you enjoy your date this weekend,” Paola asked as she looked up on you.

You gave an over dramatic groan and rolled your eyes. “I’d rather not be reminded of it. All he did was talk about his exes. Look, here’s some solid advice, Polly. When a guy says all his exes are crazy he’s probably the problem.”

Granted, you still went out with him to begin with. It was a testament to your own bad taste. “What a shame,” Paola huffed as she leaned back in her seat. “I made a bet earlier with Kara that you’d really hit it off with him.”

“I’ll consider that your karma for making bets about my love life then,” you teased.

The building settled into small talk. You talked more about past relationships and Paola encouraged you to find someone. She was currently engaged, and you figured she wanted someone to relate to her.

“The Tyrant has entered the building!”

A quick warning call from the cubical closest to the elevator. All chatter immediately stopped and people rushed to their desks and pretended to be busy on sight. You hoped off of your friend’s desk and picked your stuff up again. “I’ll talk to you later,” you winked at her.

Right on cue the sound of heavy steps and a cane came from the elevator and out stepped your boss. Ivar Lothbrok. He wore a permanent scowl on his face as he walked by, straight to his office.

When you first got transferred to the department you had been excited to finally get to work with him. The man was handsome as hell. Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, tall. He looked like a dream. His accent didn’t help either. Your dreams had prepared you for some steamy forbidden love office romance, and instead you woke up to the realization that the man was the closest thing to a psychopath you ever met.

As Ivar headed to his office you immediately followed. You knocked twice on the door and entered as usual. “Good morning, Mr. Lothbrok,” you grinned. He didn’t glance up from his desk, his eyes buried in paperwork.

“Set it down on the desk.”

You placed the coffee on his desk and left. There was a routine to things. He stopped being as angry with you even if he was never friendly. You were probably the only person in the office who didn’t get yelled at anymore. Any anger on your end was hidden behind locked lips.

On your way out the door you bumped into Trevor Taylor, the man not bothering to mind his steps as he stormed into the office. You didn’t bother looking back and whistled. It was difficult to hide your amusement. Every so often people came in, screamed obscenities, and got dragged away by security.

—

“You’re firing me!” The voice boomed through the office and every worker immediately stopped. “You can’t fire me, you need me!”

Ivar didn’t glance up, ignoring the postering.

“And you can’t even look at me,” Trevor shook his head. “What are you? Deaf now too? Answer me!” His hands slammed down on the desk.

“Don’t you think an outburst like this is exactly why you’re getting fired?” Ivar’s blue eyed remained frozen. Normally he wouldn’t hesitate to get into a shouting match, say something to make the man cry and watch him leave. The difference today was that Trevor Taylor desired attention so badly that to deny him was more satisfying. Trevor worked himself up to a breaking point. “You should pack your things before we throw them out, Trevor.”

“I’m invaluable to this company. You know that. You’re bluffing.”

“You’re a bad worker. You turn things in late and underperform in everything you do.” The words easily slipped out as Ivar flipped through a file.

“I’m not getting fired from a guy who can’t even chase me down a flight of stairs.”

Those words got to Ivar. The man had had it coming for a while now. “The only reason you lasted this long is that everyone pitied you after your wife slept with your brother. But I didn’t. And I still don’t.” He closed the file and stared up at Trevor.

“You crippled fuck!” Trevor grabbed the coffee and squeezed until it burst open across Ivar’s face and down his suit.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Ivar stood up, grabbing his cane as tightly as he could; thankful the coffee didn’t drip down to his braces. It took everything to avoid throwing something at the man, but he couldn’t deal with another lawsuit like that. “Security,” he called out.

__

Two men came in and Trevor was dragged out kicking and screaming. Everyone in the office watched with great intent. Ivar came out of his office next, drenched in coffee and thankful he preferred cold drinks.

You eyed him and hesitated for a moment before you decided he might need help, even if he didn’t want it. You got up and followed behind him, grabbing the spare coffee.

You found him just inside a private bathroom. The door wasn’t locked and you entered as if you weren’t straight up entering a bathroom.

“I take it that was another successful firing,” you teased to lighten up the mood. He glanced back, his stare shot daggers into your soul. “He had it coming. I don’t think anyone’s taking his side.” You had heard the words being shouted. It hadn’t taken long for Trevor to bring up the man’s legs a few extra times before security arrived times. He had done it in private many times before.

Ivar took off his suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. Your eyes couldn’t stop themselves as they stared down his chest. You bit your bottom lip and pried your eyes away. “I don’t care what they think.”

You knew he did. It was your job to know everything about him. You hated him half the time but there was no way Ivar was as evil as he portrayed. “You can have my coffee,” you placed it on the sink counter next to him.

He grabbed it and took a sip. A moment later he eyed you with amusement. “And I’m assuming it’s not a coincidence we have the same taste in coffee.”

“I’m clumsy. Plus, I had a feeling Trevor wasn't about to respond well to being fired,” you admitted sheepishly.

“I should have you fired for ass kissing.”

“What—“, you blinked in surprise.

“Grab my spare from the office.” He didn’t elaborate and sent you on an errand. “And then take these to the cleaners.” He handed you the stained close.

You nodded your head and left.

—

“What do you mean my visa is revoked?” Ivar demanded as he sat before his superiors in his office. “I’m supposed to get my citizenship by Friday?”

“You violated the terms of agreement. You left the country.”

“I went to Quebec! It’s hardly outside the US! And mind you, it was for this company.” Ivar was angry now, this whole thing was ridiculous. “Look— I’ll just reapply again and figure it out all. In the meantime I can relocate back to Europe for a little while.”

“We can’t have you employed here if you aren’t a citizen or have a visa.” The man before Ivar admitted, “and the process is going to take over a year.”

“So what are you saying?”

Ivar already knew the answer, but he needed to hear them say it.

“Unless you can find a way to legally stay here you can’t work for the company.”

Ivar laughed, “you don’t have anyone else even half as qualified as me.”

“Trevor Taylor.”

“I just fired the guy, he doesn’t even work here,” Ivar scoffed. His hands crossed over his chest as he leaned back in the chair. This whole ordeal was ridiculous. Why was he even putting up with this?

“Well I’m sure he’s looking for a new job then.”

Ivar remained silent for a moment, his brain worked fast to find some sort of loophole. He couldn’t just go back home unemployed to his family.

The sound of the office door opening pulled him from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw you there, anger swelling up inside him. You had came to bring back his dry cleaning. Ivar was on edge and anything would set him over expect—

“Actually this won’t be a problem at all,” Ivar stood up and he walked over to you and placed his free arm over your shoulders, confusion clear on your face. “Because we’re getting married.”

“You are?”

You were frozen, unsure of what you walked in on.

“Exactly. We didn’t want to spoil the whole thing, office etiquette and stuff. But it’s true, we’re madly in love. And since we’re getting married I’ll be staying in the US just fine,” Ivar said.

“I get it, we’ve all had an office romance or two. So long as you get it approved I don’t see a problem with it.” The man said. It was clear he was also looking for any plausible excuse to keep Ivar around. Despite the fearsome reputation, Ivar was great for the company.

The two men exchanged goodbyes while you remained dazed, but rather than question things while Ivar’s boss was in the room you waited until the man left.

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“What just happened?”

“That trip to Quebec cost me my visa. If I don’t have one I can’t stay.” Ivar said so simply, moving back behind his desk.

“I’m forgetting the part where this is my problem?” Considering the fact that Ivar was suddenly pairing you off as engaged you figured you deserved to sit in the chair as you argued with him.

Ivar paused for a moment, the gears turning in his head. “Trevor will replace me if I go. He hates you as much as me right now, so unless you don’t want to be out of a job I suggest you agree. It’s only three years. We don’t even have to live together.”

The whole idea sounded ridiculous but in some aspects he was right. You’d lose your job. You spent far too many souless years working here and the idea of starting over was terrifying. “Well— what if I actually wanted to get married?”

“It’ll take a lot longer than three years for you to convince anyone to marry you,” Ivar said simply as he went back to his work. The deal was sealed in his mind.

You struggled to formulate a response. “Fine. But I get a promotion.”

His blue eyes found yours. “And why would I do that, Y/N?”

You blinked in response. It should’ve been obvious why. “I— well I’m the reason you’re keeping your job. You owe me too. That’s three years of my life for your benefit.”

The offer was made and he was forced to think. “Fine.” His hands were tied and he hated it. “Do you want anything else”, annoyance was evident in his tone.

“A proposal.”

“What?”

“A proper one.”

Ivar’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t care for the idea and admittedly a part of him wasn’t sure he could. He couldn’t get down on one knee. “I’m not doing that.”

A moment of silence passed before you gave up. “Fine. But at least say it. Like you mean it.” You were being petty but it was the least this guy could do.

He took a deep breath and stared at you with intent. “Y/N—“ Ivar stopped himself and paused.

“Do you not know my last name?”

There was more silence as you both eyed each other.

“Will you just marry me.” Ivar concealed any embarrassment he felt over the situation. He appeared tense and a little angry. This was a better proposal than you expected from him, all things considered.

“Yes.”

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #the proposal #Vikings #I’m not like— good at writing but I like it #so... #bare with me

[barnes-dameron]

I Think of You

Chapter One: The Beginning

Soccer player!Cassian Andor x physical therapist!reader

Summary: You came to this country to learn the language and find work to pay off for school, nothing else. Getting a job as a physical therapist for the National soccer team was a plus and getting to see the star player, Cassian Andor, was a major plus as well. But what happens when your visa expires and immigration is on your tail? Your only hope resides in Cassian, who is more than willing to marry you until you can get your green card. What can go wrong?

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: This is going to be a series but I don’t know how long will it be. I didn’t explicitly say what country this is taking place in because I want everyone who reads this to feel included. So for example, if you’re from the U.S., you can pretend it takes place in Mexico since Diego Luna is from there. Or if you’re from Mexico, you can pretend it takes place in the U.S. or another country. I want all readers to feel included instead of being excluded. Big shout out to @tintinwrites for helping me think of a name for the series. I hope you all enjoy!

***

You’ve never gotten used to the weather since you moved to this new place a few years ago, and frankly you were happy about it. It was a different feel altogether, one that shouldn’t be taken for granted. In the past, mornings like these would’ve repulsed you but now you couldn’t wait. You’re life was seemingly perfect, and you wanted to keep it that way. Who could blame you? You’ve worked hard to get the job you have now and moved to an unfamiliar place and learn a whole new language. Others would’ve called you crazy or a dreamer, but really you were an achiever; something you always prided yourself on.

You couldn’t wait to get into work, even if you were at your current job for going on three years now. But it was never dull working as a physical therapist for The Rebels, one of the popular soccer teams in the country. Their fan base was huge, so naturally it’s difficult to find a position working for them. But yet again, you didn’t take things lightly, and worked hard to get where you’re at. Mon Motha, one of the owners of the Rebels, knew about you only because you treated so many of the players and they regarded you with high esteem. Apparently, you heard through the grapevine that she jokes around saying you play a part in the backbone that keeps the team together. You try not to think about it from time to time, but it does place a smile on your face.

Upon entering the building where you set up shop, you passed by Coach Draven, another key member of the team that knew you well. He gave you his usual quick “good morning” and a nod of his head. Practice started early as always, and he never took things lightly. He constantly drilled the players so they were always prepared for everything, since there were teams that prefer to play dirty. Because of this, many players from the Rebels face injury and then have to go through physical therapy. That’s where you come in. But more often than not, it was usually one player...

As you entered the office, Cassian Andor was already sitting in a chair in the waiting area. Cassian was the team captain, and took his position seriously; enforcing his teammates to take the coach’s orders and carrying the burden of a loss on his shoulders. He played with passion and left everything on the field when the game was done. Due to this, Cassian always found himself with some sort of a minor injury. It was mostly his knees. After years of playing, it was the only thing that ever caused him real pain. He would come almost everyday, before and after practice, to do special exercises in order to prevent pain while playing. You never minded, in fact you enjoyed his company in a way. He’s much different when he was alone compared to when he’s around his team. You smiled at Cassian; punctual as always.

“Good morning, Captain Andor,” you greeted, the native language of this country flowing off your tongue after years of practice.

“Good morning,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

Cassian knew the drill by now. Once you set your things by your desk, he heads to the room in the back and lies down on the cushioned yet paper clad table. He brought his feet to rest on the surface so his knees were in the air. You entered the room, asking questions about how’s he doing and how his knees feel as you thoroughly wash your hands before touching him.

Cassian’s skin was always warm, probably due to the weather outside. It was soccer season, so of course it would be warm. But a part of you wondered if he skin was just like that. You performed the same exercises as always, stretching his legs and counting while doing so. After three years of doing this every morning, it never grew old either.

“So,” Cassian said after finishing another stretch. “Any plans tonight?”

He always asked that question, and you always gave the same response. After years of living here, you never ventured out to see what the country truly had to offer. Every once and awhile, your roommate, Jyn, would drag you out to a bar or club, but that’s the farthest you’ve gone.

“The usual,” you replied. “Just me, my couch, and a book I’ve been meaning to read.” 

You heard Cassian let out a huff of laughter. 

“You really need to get out more,” he sighed as you put some pressure on the side of his knee.

“I know,” you sighed in return. 

It was a thought that always plagued your mind. Despite everything you achieved, you could no longer lie to yourself. At times you have felt a little lonely with the lack of a dating life and your roommate being out on most nights. To be completely honest with yourself, you thought of asking Cassian to accompany you to a new place. However, you didn’t want to mix work with your personal life, and threaten any friendship you may have with the captain of the team. 

“All done,” you announced. Cassian got up from his position, sitting on the edge of the table. You watched fondly as he moved his arms about, and swinging his legs like a child. Cassian hopped down, and gave you a boyish grin, one you only saw within these four walls. “Good luck at practice today.” 

“Thank you,” he said. 

You watched as Cassian left the office, your heart falling a bit as he disappeared. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh. That’s a line you certainly didn’t want to cross. 

*** 

Cassian always scolded himself when he showed up too early to your morning sessions. He hated how excited he was to see you, and he hated how you could break down all his inner walls, something he so carefully put together throughout the years, with a simple smile. But ultimately, he hated these foreign feelings that have been three years in the making. 

Cassian has never felt this way about a person, ever. Heat blooms throughout his body causing his palms to go sweaty. His mouth becomes the Saharra desert as his mind transforms into a whirlwind of thoughts. He’s never felt so off guard before. On the soccer field, he was cold and calculating, focused on one thing...winning. With you, however, it was the opposite. He was a bumbling mess of a human; something he tries to hide whenever you’re around. 

There has always been a part of him that wanted to ask you out. He couldn’t deny it, but he saw something more with you, but was never able to take those first steps. Every time he asks you for your plans that night, he chickens out last minute replying with plans of his own. It’s like he see the goal open, but could never kick the ball in. 

Cassian shook away any thoughts of you. He couldn’t let them interfere with his performance. Cassian stepped on the field, and went to work. 

He listened carefully to Coach Draven’s orders, taking mental notes to carry out the actions with perfection. He ran as fast as he could, and handled the ball with control. Maybe one day, after a win, the adrenaline would give him the fuel to ask you out. No, he scolded himself. Not now. Don’t think about her now. 

The sound of Draven’s whistle pulled Cassian out of his thoughts. He looked up to see it was the signal for a water break, something he desperately needed at that moment. He didn’t notice it until he looked at the sun, but they’ve been practicing for hours now. He was slightly amazed on how transfixed he was that he lost track of time. Cassian sat on the bench, chugging down as much water as he could, before an anxious intern from the offices bumped his back. Cassian coughed from the unexpected action, and gave an icy glare at the baby-faced intern, who looked like a deer caught in head lights. 

“S-sorry,” the intern stuttered out. Cassian watched as the boy played with the ends of his long sleeve shirt, looking around nervously, before returning his gaze back to him. “Do you know where Y/N L/N is?” 

Cassian was taken aback upon the mention of your name. He lifted his hand, pointing to the building where your office was, closer to the practice field than any other building on the campus. 

“Second floor, third door when you get off the elevator.” 

The intern nodded his head, and began a brisk walk to your building. Curiosity bloomed in Cassian, but he quickly shook it off. He couldn’t think about you, not now. 

***

Anxiety washed over you as you sat outside of the conference room. Thirty minutes ago, an intern burst into your office with an urgent message for you to come and meet with the team’s board of members, including the owners. Your stomach felt like it was put through the ringer, and your head pounded with the force of a thousand drums. You didn’t think you did anything wrong throughout your three year employment, but still every wrong thing you’ve done since childhood flooded your mind. 

You turned your whole body towards the door when the click of the lock being opened reached your ears. Mon Motha stuck her head out and motioned for you to enter. 

The floor felt uneven and difficult to navigate as you entered the room, a dozen pair of eyes peered into you as you sat at the only empty seat, the one across from Mon Motha. 

“Miss L/N,” her calm voice filling the silence in the air. Tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. “Do you know why you are here?” 

No words could come to your mouth. All you could do was shake your head. 

“Miss L/N,” Bail Organa said, taking the lead. “There have been rumors going around, and if they’re true, it could cause possible damage to the Rebels.” You remained silent, staring at the co-owners intently with a wide gaze. Rumors? About you? “It has been heard and said that your visa has expired for some time now and you’ve been residing in this country illegally. Is this true?” 

Your wish for the earth to open up and swallow you whole has never been stronger than this moment. Your heart pounded against your rib cage, the air leaving your lungs, and the sound of blood roaring in your ears. You looked down at the wood pattern of the table, not bearing to match their gazes. 

“Yes,” you murmured. “They’re true.” 

“Explain,” Mon Motha commanded coldly. 

You took a deep breath, trying to tame your wild nerves. 

“Well,” you began. “I never meant for my visa to get expired. It’s just that I’ve been so enthralled with my job and the Rebels, that it slipped my mind. Plus I only got one notice, a couple of days before the expiration date. Besides, it’s only been a few months-”

“A few months is long enough,” Bail sighed, rubbing his forehead. “If our rival, the Empire, gets a hold of this information they could destroy our credibility. Sponsors will pull out, attendance will dwindle, and the Rebels would cease to exist.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said. Tears threatened to spill from the anxiety that built up within you. You can’t cry now, not in front of all these people. “I’ve never meant for this to happen, and I didn’t think that it could hurt the team. I love this team!”

“We know, Y/N,” Mon Motha said. “But we need to take action before the media finds out.”

“Miss L/N,” a man said, gaining your attention. He looked clean and sleek, didn’t seem like the type to mess around or go out to have a drink with. “My name is Charles Anderson, the team’s attorney. I’ve analyzed your situation carefully and have came up with a few possible solutions.” You nodded your head, hanging on his every word. “Now, you could return to your country of origin and reside there until you have been cleared for a new visa.” 

“Which is ridiculous,” Bail interceded. “We’ll need you for when the season starts and we won’t know when your new visa will be approved even if we pulled some strings-” 

“Or,” Anderson said, rather loudly, cutting off Bail. “We can have you applied for a marriage license here so your spouse’s citizenship could protect you until either the season is over or you apply for citizenship yourself. Of course with this, you’ll have to apply within the next month or so.” 

“But,” you interjected, trying to gather your thoughts and bearings. “I don’t have a boyfriend or anything. How can you expect me to meet someone and marry them within a month?” 

“Actually,” Bail said, arching his eyebrow towards you with his hands clasped right in front of his face. “We were thinking that you’ll marry someone on the team.” 

Your stomach twisted at that thought. For so long you didn’t want to cross the line between work and a personal relationship, but now it seemed you didn’t have a choice. 

“What?” you asked, disbelief and shock gripping your mind and heart. 

“Think about it,” Mon said. “We’ll get ahead of any allegations that the Empire might make. We’ll say you and a player on the team were having a private relationship and make it seem that you two have been together longer than a month. Plus, with the player’s popularity, nobody will even begin to question your status in the country, and even root for the marriage. You’ll be protected in the eyes of the public. Anderson will draw up a contract for the two of you to sign so that after a year or so, you guys can divorce without raising any eyebrows and you’ll be able to stay in the country.” 

You heard every word, but after awhile, it sounded like you were underwater. Muffled noise mixed together into nonsense. You were still in shock. Married for a year to someone you didn’t know well? Plus you’ll have to make the marriage look believable. And then divorce? You never saw yourself getting married so soon, much less divorce. But this was your only viable option. What else could you do? 

*** 

Cassian wiped off the remaining droplets of water off his chest as he stepped out of the shower room. A cold shower was something he needed after today’s rigorous training and how his thoughts of you slightly got away from him during it. 

Cassian approached his designated locker and began to dress. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t sweaty and smelly before going to meet you for the after practice therapy session. Cassian watched as Bodhi took a seat at the bench in front of his locker. Cassian liked to think of Bodhi as his second in command when guiding the team on the field. Bodhi always followed orders even if he doubted himself at times. He’s a good teammate, as well as being one of Cassian’s best friends. 

“So,” Bodhi began, running his towel through his wet hair. “Did you hear about Y/N?” 

Cassian stopped his movements for a split second at the mention of your name. He kept his eyes trained on the locker wall, not wanting to look at Bodhi in effort to hide any indication of his feelings toward you. But Cassian had to admit, he was intrigued. Especially since there’s been an intern that was looking for you earlier that day. 

“No,” Cassian said, leaving it at that for now. 

“Well, I talked to that young intern... you know the one that disturbed our practice earlier? Anyways, apparently the team’s board had a sit down with Y/N.”

Cassian looked back at Bodhi upon hearing that. He tried to keep his voice steady, even if panic threatened to break through. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Apparently,” Bodhi said in a low voice just above a whisper, leaning on his forearms that rested on his knees so no one else could hear. “Y/N’s visa is expired, and the board is saying she has to marry someone quick so she can stay for the season.” 

Cassian’s heart fell through his chest and landed on the floor, nearly breaking. Your visa expired? You were always so responsible, he couldn’t believe that a perfect person like you could be in a situation like this. He needed to see you. 

Cassian rushed to put on the rest of his clothes, shoving his feet in his shoes before leaving the locker room, not saying another word to Bodhi. The only thing that he had on his mind was you. 

*** 

Your head still ached, even after leaving that dreaded conference room. You wanted to go home, talk about this situation with Jyn, and wallow in your sadness until you fall asleep. But deep down, you didn’t want to go home, not yet at least. You still had your therapy session with Cassian. To be completely honest, you wanted to see him; as if he could solve everything with one simple smile. That’s what you needed, his smile. 

As if he read your thoughts, Cassian walked into your office, a look of urgency traced in his eyes but quickly replaced with relief upon setting his gaze on you. You got up from your desk and approached the door to the exam room. 

“Hey Cass,” you sighed, trying to hide anything that might give away your awful situation. 

“Hi,” he replied nervously, which you decided not to look into. 

You washed your hands as Cassian laid down on the exam table. You had him perform the usual exercises for his knees, the silence in the room deafening. It was a little more difficult to get him to cooperate today for some reason. You felt the tension build up in his knees, something that only ever happened to him when there was something bothering him. After three years of physical therapy, you could tell if there is something off. His words might say otherwise, but his body told the truth. You let out a sigh. 

“What’s wrong, Cassian?” you asked, making eye contact with him. 

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head before resting it on the table surface. 

“Come on, Cass,” you urged, squeezing his knee gently. “I know there’s something on your mind.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. 

He did his final stretch before moving to get off the table. You turned around and approached the sink, washing your hands and preparing yourself to listen to what he has to say. Maybe he’s stressing about “the secret weapon” that the Empire supposedly has. Taking a paper towel, you turn back around to face him, wiping your hands dry before looking up to him. 

Or down... 

“Y/N L/N,” Cassian started, kneeling down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

To be continued...  

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor #x reader #rogue one #star wars #diego luna #diego luna x reader #fanfic #series #sw #fluff #angst

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Wow, this farcical situation gets more laughable by the minute! We need 100,000 HGV lorry drivers and, out of the kindness of their hearts, the Tory government have said they’ll grant 10,000 three-month visas to foreign workers. 10,000? Even those of you that are shit at maths will know that’s 90,000 short! So, these foreign workers are being offered a three-month visa to work their nuts off for not much money. Sounds really appealing, doesn’t it? Here, boys, come and work day and night, bail us out, and your handsome reward will be minimum wage and a Travelodge breakfast! You can hear the laughter from here! European HGV lorry drivers must literally be laughing their tits off! No, people, this situation will not be getting better any time soon! Unless, of course, people stop panic buying! What are the chances of that? These are the same people that panic-bought all the toilet paper! Did anything stop them? Yes! The shops had to impose a limit! A limit on us all! Panic-buyers are as bad as the disease spreaders!

And, fairly soon, this will start affecting our decision-making! “I know I can get there but can I get home?” I know a few people who have already cancelled their plans! Me? I won’t need the car until Sunday (to go to Sainsbury’s) and, if the petrol gauge is low, I will just take two shopping bags, jump on the No. 18 bus, and the weekly shop will be whatever I can fit in those two bags! What a joke! Petrol not getting delivered to petrol stations makes Covid-19 look like a walk in the park!

Many thanks to everyone that listened to ‘Mi-Mornings’ yesterday. My brother Sandy Patel asked me to play some reggae, I played Denis Brown’s ‘Love Has Found Its Way’ and the reaction was phenomenal! The UK’s love affair with reggae music dates back to Millie Small’s ‘My Boy Lollipop’ in 1964. And it wasn’t just UK reggae fans that loved reggae, the big songs had major crossover appeal: Bread’s ‘Everything I Own’ covered by Ken Boothe, Kris Kristofferson’s ‘Help Me Make It Through The Night’ covered by John Holt, Stephen Bishop’s ‘On And On’ covered by Aswad, the list goes on. So, I’ll see what I can play today?

For those of you new to my Facebook page, I am, first and foremost, a writer. I’ve been writing plays and scripts since the late seventies, and I now have three novels available via Amazon. Check out my second novel ‘Whatever Makes Them Dance’ to get you started. It’s a love story about a DJ so, if you love music and you love romance, it will hopefully entertain you?

Thanks for reading all the way to the bottom of my status. Pucker up! Special snogs for you. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

#mixcloud #mi soul #lockdown #new blog #dj #music #coronavirus #books #tuesdaymotivation

[barnesandco]

Nikah: December

Story Masterlist

Nikah: noun, Arabic, meaning the contract of marriage.

Bucky marries Peter’s former tutor because her student visa’s about to expire and the government isn’t granting her a green card. Can she find a way to permanent residence by marriage, and if so, will it be at the cost of their hearts?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Vague smut. 

A/N: Written under the Arranged/Accidental Marriage trope for @mermaidxatxheart ‘s writing challenge. I cannot believe I just finished my first series. I owe major thank you to everyone who has been so supportive, and a great debt of gratitude to the writers on this site who inspire me to keep going. Thank you for staying - I look forward to sharing future works with you. 

His wedding ring shines softly in the dim lighting of the hallway as he stands in front of the door, hand resting on its handle. The wood is cold against his forehead as he  breathes slowly, trying to calm his foxtrot heart. After three-quarters of an eternity, he knocks, and then enters upon the permission of his wife from within the room. Almost stumbles at the sight of her, as if he doesn't know her ethereal beauty like every speck of sunshine in her eyes.

She's sitting at the foot of the bed, the skirt of her glowing, white-golden lehenga spread out in front of her, her dupatta draped over her head and behind her to lay and glimmer like stardust over their silk sheets. Bucky's tie tightens around his neck and he lifts a hand to rub it nervously, and clears his throat, as she smiles reassuringly at him.

His wife, his moon and star, is tired and pleased, after the day's festivities. As is he. The wedding reception - held secretively in the same ballroom as his birthday - was quite the celebration.

"Hey," She says, unwavering, ever the anchor to ground his meandering mind. He stands in front of the mirror now, untying his tie, letting the silk slip through his hands like her love did for so, so long.

"Hey back," He answers with a grin as he removes his waistcoat. Drapes it over a nearby chair before sitting down to remove his socks. Relishes in the warmth of her content gaze as it washes over him. "How are you feeling?" He asks, leaning back to take her in. 

"Tired, but happy. Today was a good day, Bucky," She says, and he couldn't agree more. Not one to mince words where they are not needed, he walks over to her as he unbuttons the top of his shirt and kneels in front of her.

"Tired, huh? Anything I can help with, wife of mine?" He teases, trying to pretend to take one of her legs in his hand to massage, but is soon bewildered by the fact that he can't, the layers of fabric impeding his intentions. 

"Maybe I should be asking you that," She laughs, no malice in her amusement, only joy, and total awe at this man on his knees before her. He growls lowly and pushes up to meet her smiling mouth with his own, raspberries and gulab-jamun a magical mix he thinks he could live off of, if allowed to. Her lips are his aab e hayat - water of life - and he drinks her breaths until he hopes he will never go thirsty again. They part slowly, lips still grazing gently, and he returns to his crouching position at her feet. 

Until she frowns and stands up, urging him to do the same. Guides his hands to the pins holding her dupatta to her head and shoulders - he should not be thinking of superhero capes right now - and urges him to remove it. He slips it off with nimble fingers, and it slides off her and down the bed to puddle in a pool of gold on the floor. She doesn't let him reach for it, lifts her hands to cup his face, her own illuminated by the moonlight. Traces the planes of his cheeks and the valley between his brow and eyelids. Having taken her heels off, she stretches on tip-toe to plant a kiss on the ski-slope of his nose, the crevice of his chin, before sealing her lips over his again.

Bucky's hands, distinctly different but both unified in their desire, reach up to loosen her hair-do before burying themselves in the soft, comforting mass of it, using the grip to bring her somehow, some way, closer to him. Her whimpers are feather-soft against his tongue, her hands shaking as one grips his waist and the other reaches for the remaining buttons on his shirt. Her desire is contagious, amplifying his own tenfold, and his hands glide her back, coming to rest over the elegant embroidery at her waist. 

"Can I take it off?" She whispers with unbridled arousal in her eyes, and Bucky now realizes his shirt has been fully unbuttoned. He nods, lets her take it away. Lets her take him away. And God, does she take him away.

His wife, his golden woman takes him to a world where demons lose their power and no sound exists except the rustle of their bedsheets as they settle on them, and her gentle whispers of assent and encouragement. He forgets the planetarium when he has a galaxy in his hands, under his palms. The column of her neck is a nebula against his mouth, her waist a solar system between his arms. She kisses him like he's going to fly away, but he knows that the planet of her smile is his only home. The only place he can breathe right, the sun he needs to survive, is right here, not a millimeter apart.

The move like satin and soft clouds between parted mouths and gasping breaths, as they join forever, till death do them part. And after, after the tide crashes over the beach of their shore, bringing satiation and deep union with it, they lay together, her head on his chest and his heavy with the weight of the universe he has just gained. 

"Today was a good day," He echoes her earlier sentiment against her hair, voice rich with desire. A laugh rumbles through her cheek to his chest, and his heart is fit to burst. Something gives her the energy to lift her head and lean on an elbow above him, a free finger tracing any eyebrow as he traces her smile. 

"I almost fell over about a dozen times, Bucky. But yeah, other than that…" She reminds him playfully, and he rolls his eyes.

"I don't blame you, baby. Not in those heels," He points out. Throwing her head back, she laughs fully this time, and his cheeks hurt from grinning. "I still can't believe Sam danced to Katrina Kaif," He says, shaking his head. Her hand drops from where its busy tucking his hair behind his ear, and her responding smile is blinding.

"Wow, Buck, referring to Bollywood singers by name instead of song. I'm proud of you," She jokes.

"I had a good teacher."

"Anything else I can help with?" She asks, parroting his earlier comment as he had tried and failed to find her skin beneath her clothes. He found it in the end, and he'll be damned if he ever loses it, forgets the feel of it on his fingertips, ever again. He nods sincerely at her question, preparing the answer.

"Yeah. Stay," He replies quietly, and the laughter falls from her eyes to be replaced by brimming desire and overflowing love. This, Bucky knows, because it is a reflection of his own.

"Okay, Bucky. I can do that. We can stay," She says, before pulling the covers further over them, nestling against him. His arm fits like a puzzle-piece around her body, their intertwined forms the complete picture. 

Her words ring louder than the azaan in his ears as the silence envelopes them once more. Her embrace is kinder than he thought he deserved, but that he is imprinting into his memory, inch by glorious inch. Her hand rests on his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum below, steady and alive. Bucky grabs that hand and brings it to his mouth, lays a snowflake of a kiss against the back of it as he thinks: love doesn't need second chances - it just takes a little faith.

Taglist: @suz-123 @mermaidxatxheart @buckyreaderrecs @shield-agent78 @corneliabarnes @stevieboyharrington @notsomellowmushroom @veganfangirl5 @mood-pancakes @lbuck121 @starnight-charmer @redhairedfeistynerd @geeksareunique @samingtonwilson @alyxkbrl @bucky-smiles​ @marvelrose​

#ayesha writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x desi!reader #desi!reader

[blankdblank]

Hobbit Soulmate Pt 22

- bringing it into 2002, does mention 9/11, i’m not an expert on how it effected things globally but i tried to keep it believable while covering the actions to cover security with Mate abilities as well. Mainly tried to keep it drama free around that bit. - 

London however, once Richard was fully patched up, again was lit up on a night of celebration. This time for a film you were not a part of, among the spare seats you were granted a pair in the audience of the Billy Elliot premier that suited up Richard beamed next to you in your simple white diamond accented dress with a low cut off the shoulder top beamed with his arm around you for the single picture before you crept inside passing the main cast flashing waves your way recognizing you and the other dancers heading for your seats near the back.

Exhaling sharply you murmured, “My first premier.”

Chuckling lowly Richard whispered back, “Just wait until you are the face of your own premier.”

“I would rather enjoy yours, Richy Rich.” Making him smirk and lean in claiming a quick peck before a speech was given by the director and the lights died to begin the film.

Fully ignoring your morning call to have a ‘private dinner meeting’ with one of the heads of the London Ballet Company, fully meaning you would be given a chance to lead their new ballet, if you put out. You refused to give in to their pathetic demands and didn’t even bother to acknowledge their try at threatening you would never dance again if you didn’t. Honestly you didn’t care if that was what they were demanding for it no matter the name behind the threat.

You did however accept the call from the Bolshoi Ballet Company who had a show traveling the States August to September who you would be rehearsing with in New York next week, remaining with them until you would fly back to New Zealand meeting up with your father for more filming there.

Lee again buzzed in and out eagerly stealing the week you were in California to show you around and keep your free time to show off the little nest he had there with a cousin between auditions for roles and semesters at Julliard. All the while showing more of his friends greeting you as his girlfriend, the title he couldn’t seem to shake for you, even with another woman who he had been dating for a short few weeks that calmed in hearing your side of the relationship that was no threat to her and her chances with him.

…

October to June flooded with more trips between the London studios and Oxford while you slaved away to flush out your credits entirely. Much to your surprise as well as others you found yourself in a cap and gown accepting your diploma at Oxford. The Armitage brood and your father sat filming and taking pictures through, before and after the ceremony to the after party your friends had all come together to throw for one another. Promising to never lose touch before heading home after having said goodbye to the fabled campus you had partly wished to never have to leave behind in your lifetime.

Macbeth, Casualty and Doctors all premiered for Richard, all he hoped to brush past only to laugh loudly at your mini surprise parties you threw for him with mini confetti poppers and home baked cakes topped with cute messages ending with his curling around you in bed sad to see you go again. There was a question he could ask to put an end to the hassle of travel papers and visas, you could easily get engaged and elope for citizenship, you had an established relationship and reason to be in the country enough to validate need for dual citizenship. Yet he didn’t feel right asking just yet when it still felt he was stuck on his in between phase himself, the pair of you were just starting, fleshing yourselves out to the producers and film world to have solid footing to try for roots just yet. So he was left to the fact that he would have to travel now, between roles he would grant you time to remain fixed in place while he was able to be with you all he wished. That was the deal.

.

And again you were heading down your stoop in New York slightly fuzzy on your traveling home from the airport after Richard’s tight hug goodbye. Wide eyed however you paused seeing Lee pull up in front of you, stepping out of his parent’s van. “Hey,” His smile splitting across his face as he looked you over, again physically readying for another season of dance.

“Hey, thought you were heading home for summer again.”

“I am home.”

He said as William climbed out saying, “I am not carrying all this up there by myself!”

“You, you’re moving in?”

Lee nodded, “Floor under you, just as marvelous as your first place,” making you giggle as he chuckled, “I have enough tucked away to stay, plus still have the job at the store, so you can drop by between shows. You’re home, I’m home.”

“Bet Becky’s thrilled about that.”

“Becky met Brad, and Hector, and someone named Sparkler, kid you not. One year left in school, I want to spend my summer near you. Have to head for Mom’s shop opening in September, but till then you and me, back to stirring up some crime.”

William cleared his throat loudly and you turned Lee guiding him to the car where you hugged the pair and said, “For now, I have to head to a meeting with NY Ballet Company. Apparently ‘they have heard good things’. Catch you later.”

William called out, “Catch you later bouncy ball.” Making you giggle and wave to the pair in a trot to catch your train to the prestigious Ballet Company where your grandparent’s lawyer would be waiting to aid you in another hopefully more successful contract ensuring you wouldn’t be cast aside again.

Summer seemed to be like right out of a dream. Back to best friends with Lee, who was hard at work studying up on references and anything that could help with any possible job. Including random hobbies and sign up courses he could pull from later for any role branching from pottery to an odd day he signed up for a birthing class by mistake and had to fake a call saying his mother was already in early labor not needing him to fill in for his dad that had you near to tears when he shared what he’d signed up for from laughing so hard. This was nothing like before, sure there were lingering stares and stolen glances at lips and tries to get a bit too close, but all on his end. You were secure in what and who you had waiting to snuggle with you again across the pond, and in a joyful announcement he had booked a ticket to New Zealand to beat you there to be with you through the final mini bout of filming before the premier in December.

Your flight was booked and every day it drew closer, circled in red on more than one calendar, September 11th.

 **

“You’re certain the flight confirmation said today?” Again the question was asked as huddled up in the office of the studio Peter paced between the silent cast already there that had heard the news. Everyone almost was here, except for two people, you and one of their make up artists loaned to a film in the States for the past few months, both leaving New York that was covered in smoke, locked down and flooded with panic. Phillipa again looked to the travel papers after having sat down feeling she might pass out from nerves while Fran kept the kids busy in the other room so they wouldn’t be worried by what was going on across the world. Again silently your father watched as Richard wrote another note on his exposed arm calmed only that your mark was still intact and your heartbeat, while jumpy at best confirmed you were still there somewhere.

It had been hours past when you were meant to land and everything circling New York was scrutinized to the final detail. The cast had even gone to the limits of printing out maps of where the Towers were compared to your address only worrying the more at how even if you had missed your plane you would be trapped in the ash and dust scared and alone. Phones were busy without any chance of answer with emails sporadic and overtaxed with servers crashing left and right leaving little answer for anyone.  Out of nowhere the phone rang and Phillipa picked up, “Would this be the number for Weta workshop studio where Peter Jackson works?”

The voice came through soundly in an Australian accent and Phillipa picked up a squishy stress ball shaped like an elephant painted to be a Mumakil from the desk she threw at Peter’s back halting him in his tracks turning everyone’s head. “Yes it is, who may I ask is calling?”

“Ma’am this is the Border Security office in Australia, we have a,” papers were consulted and he read off, “Rebeka Stout and a Jaqiearae Pearisiyiae here I am needing to confirm the employment documents they have, is Mr Jackson there for me to speak with?”

“Yes, one moment,” wobbling to her feet she passed Peter the phone saying with her hand over the receiver, “Becky and Jaqi are in Australia. They need to confirm their travel documents.”

Relieved exhales filled the room and Peter took the phone, “Hello, this is Peter Jackson,” he managed to somewhat calmly state.

“Hello sir, I am calling to confirm the employment papers of the Missus Rebeka Stout and a Jaqiearae Pearisiyiae,”

“Yes, I have their documents here, what do you need to know?” A few questions for each were given and answered confirming for those listening in still while other crew members had raced out to share the news with those still lingering in the halls and other areas of the studio uncertain of everyone’s safety just yet while the lists had been whittled down.

Finally he heard, “Those are all the questions I have on my end, we thank you for your cooperation in this we have had to handle quite a few delays and any flight from New York has had to face extra scrutiny you understand.”

Peter nodded, “Of course, or course, if I may, since those flights are still grounded so they will be staying in Australia?”

“Yes sir, we do have a supply of boats able to handle transport between our islands for the time being but with the sheer numbers of those grounded it will be some time before their spots could be guaranteed.”

Peter, “No of course I understand.”

“And now that they have been cleared they will be able to have phone privileges restored to them, would you like to speak to them, Miss Pearisiyiae is in the room, it will have to be brief mind you, we have others to interview.”

“Yes please, and thank you, so very much.” As he waited he found a pad and pen to write out a note he gave to Phillipa she nodded and left the room to follow through on right away.

“Hello?” Your voice cracked out hinting that you’d been close to crying making Peter close his eyes a moment.

“Jaqi, I want you to listen very carefully to me, your dad’s here, Richard is here, we all are. Now I know Becky is there, have you seen her?”

“Yes, I think she’s in the hall still.”

“Good, you stick with her, Phillipa is calling David Wenham, he’s still out in Australia and he’s going to come and get you and give you a place to crash while you’re out there. Do not worry about the wait we’ll get you out here as soon as we can okay Dear?”

“Okay, I will, thank you.” In a glance up at the man across from you stealing a glance at the list of names he still had to go through you said, “I should probably go, I guess we’ll call from David’s.”

“He’s on his way, sit tight, we love you, it shouldn’t be too long.”

“Bye bye,” you all but whispered out hearing him repeat the same as you handed the phone back to the man who had expected in your nerves to crack and take way longer. All the same he hung up and again your palms folded around your sleeves uncertain if you should lift your sleeve showing your messages from Richard as others who had been seen to read theirs or speak through them had been detained separately in private holding cells to check thoroughly. “Thank you.”

Again his eyes met yours seeing the tears lingering in your pink eyes you refused to let fall disturbing their process by holding it up. You had been fingerprinted with your background scrutinized as everything in your bag and phone was investigated thoroughly from altogether frightened diligent people just doing their jobs glad you were so understanding compared to dozens of other on your flight. “And thank you, for being so accommodating. This is, well, I don’t think we’ve faced anything like this before.”

“I know,” you said with a nod promptly furrowing your brows as you wiped away a tear that fell down your cheek, “It happened in New York, and we flew from there. You have to keep your home safe. Took oaths to, I bet.” Your voice cracked off and he nodded as you wiped your cheek again forcing a grin at him trying to fake that you weren’t terrified.

“Were you passing through New York, or do you live there?”

“Live,” you cleared your throat, “I live there. I just finished a season at the NY Ballet Company through the summer. Went to Julliard there. Worked on Broadway too.”

You nodded again and he glanced down gathering your papers, one he stamped and folded into your passport before pulling your bagged phone from the drawer in his desk, all of which he stood to pass to you, that you flinched up to accept, “Ballet is very hard. I know anyone who could work in a company for it must be tough. Just take a few deep breaths, no doubt you’ll be back to work in no time with Mr Jackson.”

You nodded again walking with him to the door he opened for you, “Thank you.”

Already at your seat on the bench by the wall your bags were waiting and Becky, another under five foot member of the filming family, having been asked to wait aside seeing that you were headed the same place accepted her papers and bagged phone from another officer as well then looked to you. Until you both looked at your officer who said, “You’ve both been cleared, you can head out to the main exit gates and wait for your transport from there. Every taxi fleet has been called available but there may still be a line.”

You nodded both thanking the officers, who looked over your tiny selves shouldering and gathering your things to head out of the office another group to be interviewed were led inside and lined up to wait on the benches you had cleared part of. With her arm looping through yours you shared softly, “They called Peter, he’s calling David Wenham, he’s out here, said they’d get him to fetch us and put us up.”

Becky nodded, “Faramir?” You nodded and she stammered out, “We can trust Faramir.” Making you smirk and inch closer to her side feeling she was shaking too. Faces blurred and taller bodies with mingled children crying for reasons they couldn’t explain the shift in the air of this place were carried all towards the exit gates. Every seating lobby was open for those waiting with even more seated along the floor or wherever available until more room would clear at the next set of cabs and cars arriving for guests. Across from the designated section for cars you settled on the ground with the bustling crowd for the taxis growing in the hall behind you and off to the right side of the building allotted to ease passenger flow.

Quietly after putting your papers away you held your again un-bagged on phones waiting for word softly chatting on and off in broken clumps of conversation when your nerves would spike again, both still waiting to answer your itching messages growing on your arms under your sleeves from worried Mates. In the crowd however you caught a familiar face passing from a flight back from England, in the sea of people huffing eyeing the growing crowd for taxi’s Hugh Jackman came into view. A clear head over the rest around him he stood, a stranger to you in all but his public self in a couple roles you’d seen him in by chance. With pictures you had been holding from the films in hand you stood murmuring, “I’ll be right back,”

Uncertain of why you walked right up to him unable to do much but try to solve something to make today end okay in your eyes. Right up to him you walked and taped his arm holding his bag, instantly his eyes dropped and he let out a breath, “Listen, today-,”

“You know David Wenham?” It wasn’t much of a question but a fact, David had bragged when a crew member had mentioned a crush on him that they didn’t live far apart and had dinner together quite often when both in Australia at the same time between jobs.

“Yes?”

“Um,” his eyes dropped to the pictures in your hands making his head tilt at the images of monsters and people in odd costumes before showing him one of David, you and Sean on set with you in a servant’s costume between them. Catching his eyes again after he looked at the image curious why you were showing him that, “We work with him, me and Becky, we got diverted here and he’s coming to get us. He said once you don’t live far, we don’t take up much room, and unless he drives a bike with a side car I’m sure he could grab you too.”

The offer in your cracking tone had him nodding and flashing you a comforting smile, “Thank you, very kind of you.” Turning to join you and Becky, who he smiled at as he set down his bag and lowered crossing his legs to sit beside you on the ground after you’d sat again. “Hi Becky,” Offering a hand around you that she shook with a soft hello and released revealing her own trembling hand. “Where did you get diverted from? I came from London.”

Becky answered, “I was working in Philadelphia, we’re supposed to be in New  Zealand. My parents line is down,”

“I’m sure Peter and them have called them to let them know.”

Becky nodded again and Hugh looked you over asking, “You?”

Catching his eye you said, “I was in New York.” Parting his lips and you nodded, “But Peter said my Dad and Mate are there and are waiting while they work out the boat situation to get us to work.”

“I’ve seen you,” he said looking you over again after a few minutes of silence.

Glancing at him you said, “I won a Tony, went with Ian McKellen.” That had him smirking, “Do you need proof?” Without answering you had opened your duffel and had his shoulders shaking as you plopped your statue on his palm in him lap.

“You,” he chuckled again asking, “You just carry it around with you?”

“No, the guys wanted to see it. So I packed it. Should have seen the faces on the guy searching my bag, asked to use my Polaroid to take a picture with a real Tony.”

He chuckled again as Becky giggled behind her hand remembering the look on is face when he looked you over across the counter in your tiny wrinkled glorious self. “Oh I bet it was amusing,” he said passing it back and saying, “I saw that performance, bravo,”

“Thank you.” You said putting it away again. The conversation shifted to films you had recently seen that broke with, “Heard you and David are in a film together about Dracula.”

Again he smirked saying, “Won’t be out for a while though. Something about issues with the computer side of things. Not to mention some reshoots.”

“I can’t wait, I hear you have an awesome hat.” Making him chuckle again. “Love hats.”

“That I do.”

Becky pointed at you, “She has a helmet in ours.” And you nodded, “Battle helmet, and a pair of axes, one double sided.”

His brow inched up and you said, “I play a 139 year old ginger warrior.”

“You what?” He asked only to watch you follow Becky’s point to the glass walls looking out the gate seeing David appearing from the crowds looking around. Hugh followed your lead and you all gathered your bags walking to the worried man who wrapped you both in a tight hug when you finally reached him.

“There you are!” Pressing quick pecks on your foreheads. “Let’s get you home and fed.”

He looked to Hugh who smirked saying, “They found me in the crowd.”

“Can we keep him?” David smirked with Hugh, “Can we, can we? Bet he knows loads of tricks.”

Hugh joked, “Already housebroken.”

David chuckled nodding his head, “Come on, before I get towed,” Easing his hands across you and Becky’s backs guiding you to his car still waiting on the curb through the crowds that were blocking his view.

The trunk was loaded up and as you pocketed a pen you joined Becky to take the back while Hugh sat up front folding the seat back to climb inside the two door car. Buckled up and pulled off the curb you pulled out your pen and inched down your sleeves when you were out of sight both trying not to cry seeing notes from your Mates trying to calm you and share how much they loved you and would see you soon. Uncapping your pen you wrote in a bare stretch on your wrist, ’David’s taking us to his place, just picked us up. Sorry, we couldn’t write back to you sooner.’

Passing the pen to Becky she gave you a weak grin and promptly wrote back to calm her worried one as you reread the notes from Richard to calm yourself.

 *

On his feet Richard poked his head into Peter’s office saying, “Jaqi just wrote me, David’s driving them home now.” Again relief washed over the group now reserved to trying to call out for the dinner that had been mentioned earlier once everyone had been accounted for completely. Stepping out to the lot outside where your father had gone to pace Richard cleared his throat warning that Joe was not alone to keep from startling him only to have his wide pinkened purple eyes land on him. “Jaqi wrote me, said David’s taking them home,” the statement deflating the tense giant of a man wracked with concern now resting his hands on his head to stretch his tense arms. “Said she’s sorry she couldn’t write sooner.”

Joe said, “No, I don’t doubt they had them ban writing as well as calls until they were cleared and searched.” That had Richard’s brow inching up, “When our rig got hit they did the same with us guys before we got cleared to fly home. No word out or in until they have answers. Just hope it won’t take long to ship them out here.”

Richard shook his head, “No telling Peter wouldn’t borrow a yacht to go and fetch them himself if he could.”

Joe chuckled, “It’s a short skip from there to here compared from there. Probably just be a few days until they start letting flights go again. The diverted no doubt will be first to lighten the load.”

 *

Slowly but surely phone lines seemed to free up and in your two day wait you racked up your phone time calming Lee and your family in Texas between calls to Richard and your father in New Zealand. It seemed to calm things as after a tight scramble to follow the new protocol for displaced passengers a private jet was allowed to land on a smaller airstrip to take you the rest of the six hour flight with David and the few other crew members also living in Australia.

Tightly you were scooped up into your father’s arms while Becky’s family also waiting with the groups come to greet you all clung to her. In a string of flights of smaller craft allowed to land here you grouped up and headed off in the vans waiting to take you to your grandparent’s land out here to meet the others waiting here with a full meal to welcome you back again. Lingering between your father and Richard, who wouldn’t let go of you ensuring they couldn’t lose a moment now you were together again. Barely the crack of dawn the breakfast waiting was steaming hot and much needed to help you through the easy day of filming ahead. Mainly you were doing more extra work beginning in Gondor while Becky was eased into her usual tasks with the full crew there to help keep her focused as she relaxed at being home again.

While John, who arguably gave you one of the tightest hugs behind Viggo and even Orlando, headed off to his own scenes to be touched up in Rohan you would be joining them in next week, certain to make it known just how glad he was that you were safe. Once on set giggling after brushing a strip of your blonde wig from your face you were scooped up into another hug by Sean you returned and pecked him on the cheek and took your place.

All day you enjoyed the easy day with Richard also eased into the background in a suit of armor riding a horse out of Gondor behind Faramir to battle at Osgiliath as you were seen working as Denethor ate to Pippen singing. All that bled into the next day where you were joining your father in Osgiliath where you spent the rest of the week as an orc fighting against the forces led by Faramir. These days adding more pictures to your collection of your various roles with bright red eyes and seven jagged teeth on your little warped and stapled metal plated face topped with a scraggly little patch of wilting hair.

Brightly in the thrilling backdrop of another film to add to his roster and the first of what he hoped to be many with you Richard smiled between takes and couldn’t help but wonder what the next week would hold for him in your trip to Rohan. Your last day however you were an odd woman traveler in Faramir’s hooded band of men outside of Gondor where they encounter Frodo, Sam and Gollum. Frodo and Sam were off in Shelob’s Lair set leaving you joining the men in their fake interrogation slash beating to Gollum that had to be altered to fit Andy in his body suit. The actor who spent every chance between the scenes joining in the group around you to get to know you better after those few scenes in his stalking you in the Moria scenes months prior.

He had more scenes in Shelob’s Lair with the duo for the second half of the day while you went to have a simple change or two to your appearance to be driven over to Rohan. The post battle celebration found you as both barmaid and in the next day aiding John in Gimli’s backwards fall before to the crew becoming a second woman mingling in the crowds the following day, both encountering Richard in his extra slot drinking and chatting with fellow men in the background.

Though amusing for Richard a third orc costume was glued around you to be one of the orcs to fight with your father in another Uruk costume to fight with you over the mithril shirt shirtless and tied up Frodo taking them away from the now conscious Hobbit now able to flee. The most troubling part however seemed to be for your father having to ‘kill’ you and throw you through a hole in the ground to a waiting group of arms below shouting “The scum tried to knife me!” Instantly followed by giggles from the hole as you were caught and promptly fake cradled by the largest of the men down there rocking you and patting your arm soothing you with sentiments as the group sent fake glares up to your father who joined them and you on the lower set.

There your ‘double’, and identically dressed larger male to tumble down a staircase into a table where you would pop up to join in the masses of orcs killing one another. The diversion distracting from when Sam calmed Frodo and the pair enjoyed post cut for them to watch you all just go crazy in your fight in the various takes granted by Peter to get as much to pull from as possible. All in between you were on the stairs to be scared away by Sam’s growls and shadows, then again seen carrying web wrapped Frodo off to the tower from earlier. For a week it was hard to keep up with just which orc you were and to Andy’s amusement he teased that for the end cut it might just be you fighting yourself and handling all the prisoner intake all through the film luring adorable giggles from you in your various horrid little costume personas.

The most amusing thing however was a steadily noticed fact, Gimli was growing. Steadily measurements had to be tweaked and smirking to themselves the wardrobe team kept note of how many inches they might have to shave off the platform bottoms of your Gimli boots. Inch by inch you crept your way to an adorable 5 ft 2 still keeping you well below the six foot actors to remain in the window to stay as Gimli’s body double not worrying Peter at all who made certain to comfort you on that fact.

All through your final days in the wonderful company of these lovely actors and family of a crew you got a handful of calls needing actresses from New York. Out of the mess the city was cleaning itself from there was a scrambling to help bring business back to it. Halfway through production already two stood out and with some actors leaving their roles there were countless spots open for you to return to. While Richard had to get back for rehearsals of the new play he was set to be in you flew off home to New York with your dad, who refused to let you go back alone worrying you might get hurt.

Already changes were evident as upon landing the regulations seemed to have been changed for landing international flights. Though it did little to deter you as you took the same route from the bus to the train and dropped off your things to head with your father to the auditions. Straight to the office you went and mingling in the hall with the director was Natasha Richardson and Jennifer Lopez, both who had been checking on the status of the production wondering about the recasts to the characters around theirs.

“Here for the auditions?” You nodded and accepted the clipboard only to notice the trio turning to glance at the new addition to the noisy hall of mainly teens hoping for their first roles.

Instantly Natasha’s lips parted and she moved closer asking, “Belini’s Norma, how was the record?”

Grinning at her you let out a weak chuckle saying, “My Mate’s Dad loves it. Played it for us, it’s fantastic. You and your family doing well?”

She nodded and glanced back at the director who asked, “You know each other?”

“Liam and I helped her pick out a sweater a few Christmases ago in London. Great taste in music.”

Jennifer asked, “I’ve seen you too, where have I seen you?” narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Well if you watched the Tony’s-,”

She pointed a finger at you, “Yes! That’s it, it’s the bob you’re missing. Chicago was fabulous, are you going to be in the film too?”

“No, um,” you let out a giggle, “No, they wanted big names. Mainly singers and I think Catherine Zeta Jones is playing Velma, so hell of a choice there. I think it’ll be great, just got back from New Zealand.”

Natasha, “Ooh, what was going on there?”

“Lord of the Rings. Mainly extra work, body and stunt doubling, I grew six inches, though,”

Natasha nodded glancing at your feet, “I did notice you were taller, assumed heels.” Meeting your eye again at your weak chuckle.

“Ya, so it should be easier to get roles now I think.”

Jennifer, “What type of exercise do you do besides dance, you have a great body, because I have another smaller budget film I’m in where I do Krav Maga and we need some more bodies there. Not very active mind you, but whatever you do I might take some pointers.”

“Well I mainly do floor work. Used to be a gymnast, so a lot of just body weight, elastic bands. All the tedious exercises everyone else hates.”

“We can trade numbers, get you to help me through some of those tedious tricks of yours.”

You nodded, “Sure,”

Natasha however looked over your shoulder to your father extending her hand, “How rude of me, you must be this charming young woman’s father.”

He grinned and nodded accepting her handshake, “Yes I am, Joe, pleasure to meet you Ma’am.”

Director, “You always bring your father with you to auditions?”

Joe answered, “We’ve been in New Zealand since September, I’m being a bit over cautious.”

Natasha shook her head and Jennifer patted his arm, “Nothing wrong with that. You wouldn’t happen to act, would you?”

Joe, “Just did my first job on the film with Jaqi here. A lot of battle scenes, mainly the big ugly monster guys due to my size.”

Natasha, “Well we do need a couple guards, don’t we?” Asking the Director.

He looked Joe over and said, “It won’t pay much, but it will have a good amount of scenes.”

Natasha smiled at you, “And you could be my assistant. Perfect for it, so we can get to know each other better since all the main speaking maids are cast, only a handful of lines though. I hope that won’t put you off.”

You shook your head with a giggle, “I have about twenty extra roles in the film and have about seven words spoken. Trust me, I thrive in silence.” Your answer made the pair smirk at you as the Director twitched his brow up impressed at your clear truth to the answer.

Natasha said, “You know, I know for a fact that Hugh Grant has a film in New York too in need of extras, they’re just a floor up,” she said taking your hand saying, “Come with me. I’ll make the introductions.” With Jennifer in tow you all made your way up another floor and found the Director there, who also had seen your show and jumped at the chance to work with you. All in all a lunch with famous faces ended with you returning to offices to sign the papers and accepting your scripts including your measly set of lines.

Yet by dinner a trio of new scripts showed up at your door by messenger with notes on them of times for you to come and audition for the roles including spots for your father in two of them. Over your dinner plates he asked, “So what are these exactly?” Taping the stack of scripts including the ones you had been hired for earlier.

“Well, looks like Maid in Manhattan is about a Maid who falls for a Politician who falls for her in return but assumes she’s rich and not working at the hotel. Two Weeks Notice, I’m working in an office where the male lead is an ass and makes the female’s life close to hell until she quits but there’s a slow building mutual pining there. Enough, is about a woman trying to leave an abusive ex, ends up toughening herself up to fight back, haven’t finished it but it has a feel that she kills him in the end. I will be a concerned friend it seems.

The others, one is a horror flick called the Ring, I get to play Becca, a teen at the beginning who ends up in an asylum. Darkness Falls, evil tooth fairy monster, I am a fleeing nurse, Daredevil, looks promising, want me to play a female warrior in, flashback scenes? I don’t know, and got a message from Ian earlier he’s talking about possibly getting me a mini slot on Xmen’s sequel. They have the cast mainly filled but he says maybe they can find wiggle room in the students. That one’s in Canada, but About a Boy will have to be filmed in London.”

Patting your hand he smirked at you, “That all sounds lucrative.”

“It’s barely two grand a pop.”

“Fourteen grand,”

“Not guaranteed or paid on until release. Not like Peter’s productions where it’s monthly salaries and a larger chunk upon release.”

“Doesn’t matter. Baby steps.” Making you smirk to yourself starting on your meal.

“Not so bad yourself, first film is a huge blockbuster and now you have a handful more to add to the list.”

“You may have just converted me on my career path you know. Could become the new family profession, least till you have some little ones, then I can stay and watch them for you while you travel around for work.”

“Dad-,”

“You are going to have dark haired bright eyed babies.” Making you giggle at his spreading smirk, “If Richard can manage to land a job near you long enough to make me some grandbabies.”

“Aren’t you meant to be pushing a wedding first?”

“Oh trust me, I have been pushing,” Making you scoff at his deep chuckle and fork stabbing into his broccoli and beef.

Pt 23

#Richard Armitage x Reader OC #Hugh Jackman #David Wenham #Peter Jackson #Natasha Richardson #Jennifer Lopez #Lee Pace x Reader OC

[soundofseventeen]

Under the Umbrella (Kim Mingyu)

Alright y’all...you have my full permission to condemn me for never being on. I meant to have this posted like two weeks ago, but moving is hectic. Anyways, a happy late birthday to @notprincesscharming and @mingyulonglegs and I hope y’all like this! -Bee

Word count: 4962

“Y/N, don’t forget the umbrella,” Joshua called from the kitchen. “The news said it was actually gonna rain today.” He came into the living room, holding a bowl of popcorn, calmly sticking them into his mouth one by one. He eyed your casual attire, wondering if you’d be able to make it without getting wet.

You shook your head as if reading his mind. “They’ve been saying that since...forever ago and it’s been nothing but hot weather. I’ll live.” You sighed when your roommate shook his head at you, and went back to find said umbrella and came back out with a small huff and he nodded approvingly. You had just opened the door, stepping outside and only stopping when you remembered. “Do you need anything?”

“The will to live might be nice! I’m ready to drop out or get hit by a bus….I’m fine with either option at this point.” He flashed you his famous devil may care grin. “Anything will be better than this torture.”

You pulled out all the won in your pocket and waved it at him. “Sorry pal; the best I can do is an energy drink and maybe some ramen if you’re lucky.”

“I can live with that. Make sure it’s not that low carb shit though! Last time, I had a crash so bad that I slept for two days.” The engagement ring on his finger reflected against the sun and it shone on your face, making you turn away with a grimace. The wedding was a week away and you couldn’t believe how soon so many things that’d change. At least you knew that this would always be intact.

“You take what you get and you don’t complain!” You laughed and closed the door, ready to head to town for the week’s groceries since Joshua would be doing the cooking for a few more days. The sky was blue but a hint of the gray clouds colored around it. Rain had been in the forecast for sometime but it had yet to fall and you knew once it happened, the last traces of the humid weather would disappear for the remainder of the year and the cold would take its place.

Normally, you’d be thrilled to bring out your sweaters and blankets and parade down the streets in your favorite boots but lately you couldn’t find yourself to move past the summer or the adventures it brought. You could still taste the watermelon when you speared it with a toothpick and ate it while you waited in the laundromat for the washer to finish its last spin cycle and you could hear the songs playing on the radio while you roasted marshmallows and swatted the pesky mosquitoes while the campfire crackled happily with the attention. And you could smell the sunblock as you rubbed it on your skin even though you didn’t plan on leaving the shade. These memories you couldn’t let go of just yet and you hoped it could stay like that just a little longer until you could accept it. Especially when those expressive brown eyes and warm smiles that lit your soul from the inside out seemed dedicated to searing themselves deeper and deeper into your heart until a permanent mark took its place. You dusted the nonexistent dog hair off your shirt, hoping to shake it off.

The grocery shopping didn’t take as long as you expected it to, so you took the long way home, picking up a few extra things on the way back, even cutting your roommate some slack and picking up some takeout so he wouldn’t dirty the kitchen you spent a long time cleaning up. You didn’t enjoy the hot breeze that hit your face but it still hinted at the summer weather and for that, you were grateful. You walked past a popular restaurant, pausing when you recognized Minghao and nearly waved at him until you saw that he wasn’t alone. Your breath got caught in your throat and you struggled to get it out, your lungs failing you. Your hands trembled a little at the sight and it took all your power not to drop all the items in your hand and turn around. Minghao saw you and he waved, but you couldn’t. You merely walked past the window, not bothering to turn back until you were sure you wouldn’t see either of them. You faked a smile and a good mood for Joshua (which he bought, bless his soul) as you chatted (or rather gloated at how you were right and you didn’t need the umbrella) at the table and when you went outside to take the trash out, you looked at the evening sky once more.

Not a hint of rain.

*

The relationship you had hadn’t always been this way and you didn’t think you’d even make it as far as it did. You and Joshua had agreed to travel abroad together to experience a life outside of your home while you continued your studies, deciding that you needed a culture shock at least once in your life. You lucked out when you moved somewhere you could still speak English but the same couldn’t be said for others. That’s how Joshua met Kim Mingyu when they became roommates for a year.

Mingyu was someone who understood the basics of English but often had trouble communicating so the pair became fast friends because Joshua spoke Korean almost as well as Mingyu. It’s not that you didn’t have an interest in getting to know him, but you stayed in your dorm a lot, often studying and refusing to leave the place when your social anxiety kicked in, especially when it felt like you couldn’t relate to your own roommate. But when you started spending more time in their dorms, it seemed inevitable to befriend him as well.

He piqued your interest when you saw the photographs hanging all over the place and how good they looked even if he wasn’t a professional. He took a lot of candid pictures Joshua and many other boys you recognized both in your class and around the campus, and you noticed the captions on the back, writing the dates and the activities and the food stains that contrasted against the whiteness of the Polaroid he sometimes used. You were confused when you saw yourself in some of the background photos because you couldn’t remember Mingyu ever taking out a camera in your presence. It surprised you even more when you found out it was more of a hobby than a passion for him.

You weren’t sure what sparked the movement but you just knew that one day he was your best friend’s roommate and the next, he showed you his private world that included bass playing and poetry slams his other friends helped him write. He left after a couple of semesters due to him still being undecided in his major, but exchanged social media to keep in touch with each other’s lives. He was a great friend and even though it hadn’t been meant to have him around for a long time, you were satisfied in knowing you could watch him grow and cheer for him from afar. After all, it was a big wide world and you didn’t expect to cross paths with him again, not when he was destined for great things and his lack of posts on his social media proved it.

Over the school years, you and Joshua hopped around from university to university and meeting new people and being introduced to new things. You two dated around, although no serious commitments ever came out out of that, which sometimes bothered you because of the pressure to find someone hit you out of nowhere but Joshua often encouraged you to shrug it off and have fun. You wanted something serious but also your wanderlust always won in the end and you knew finding someone who was okay with you seeing parts of the world with your best friend was nearly impossible.

Your luck seemed to change when you arrived in South Korea. Tired of always asking your parents to transfer money into your bank account, you obtained a work visa to provide for your necessities and Joshua followed suit. You finally managed to move out of the dorms and into your own apartment with him as your roommate. Granted, you struggled in the beginning but anywhere seemed like a better option than sharing a place with someone you didn’t know.

It didn’t surprise you when Joshua casually announced he was going on a date one night you were doing calculus but you wondered why it had taken so long. When the first date turned into a second and then a third, you felt lonely because he didn’t stay home as much, even though he tried not make you feel left out and you appreciated that. However, you knew that you couldn’t hold onto him forever, especially because he seemed serious about this one. So you sucked it up and let Joshua be, keeping your emotions to a minimum.

One day, while at the hardware store, you were browsing the aisles, looking for the paint section because the living room needed a new coat when you saw a familiar face. He stuck out like a sore thumb even after not seeing him in a few years. Kim Mingyu carefully balanced the bird feeders in his arms and when he struggled to hold onto them, you found yourself running to help when one nearly toppled to the floor. His eyes widened when he saw you but he treated you like an old friend as he chatted away about the old lady near his house who was too old to replace her old ones and your paint was long forgotten. Just before he left, he said it had been good to see you again and it was a small world to wind up there of all places. You left home with a good mood at seeing him even though you exchanged nothing except a small catchup on your lives.

A month later, you found out you worked next door to each other when you had gone out for lunch and you saw him leave a local clinic for his own lunch. He called your name, flashed you a smile and waved you down, heading in opposite directions and all, and you ended up eating at a Japanese restaurant he swore was the best in the area. From there, not only did you try to time your lunch breaks to at least see him, but you finally managed to get his phone number although you quickly realized he was busy outside of work too. He had hobbies that included building cabinets and desks and painting them, and often checked in with the ajumma in exchange for learning her recipes. (He said it was good for future résumés.) He had switched to online courses so he’d have more time to do things so whenever you saw him during the lunch hours you couldn’t meet up, you’d see him with a laptop stuck to his face as he typed away.

The first time he asked you to hang out with him after work happened at the last minute. With work being slow, you were allowed a couple of hours earlier than usual when he had walked out, his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he locked up, assuring someone it’d be okay. He had spotted you the moment he hung up and asked if you were busy. When you told him no, he apologized for asking you last minute but he had planned to go to a concert with his friend Seungcheol, but his sister had broken her arm and they were currently at the hospital and if you’d like to go. You thought about it a moment, quickly weighing out the pros and cons, and agreed. You texted him your address and he promised to pick you up within 30 minutes. Joshua wasn’t there so you wrote him a note not to wait up for you and that you had your keys in case you arrived later than planned and Mingyu whisked you away for the afternoon.

You two hit it off and before you knew it, he became part of your everyday life and you managed to balance school, work, home and now him. He began calling you weekly to see if you’d like to accompany him to do laundry late at night and most of the time, you said yes. Though most of the time he worked on his assignments, he made sure to bring the seasonal fruit in a container for you two to snack on until you complained you were hungry and he dashed to the McDonald’s across the street for a last minute meal. He invited you to a lot of other places that recommended or required a plus one and you went along with him whenever time allowed.

It took you a lot longer that you wanted to admit that he was someone who couldn’t be alone. Most of his personality trait revolved around the fact that he needed constant companionship and it wasn’t a bad thing but when you asked him about it he shrugged and said he liked being around people. But he did, however, invite you to an animal shelter and he rescued a pup that he fell in love with immediately. And then you figured out he liked helping others, felt a sense of responsibility and pride when he looked after people, and when you brought it up to him another night, he gripped the insect repellent little too tightly which made it slip from his hands and fall with a dusty crash next to Aji who woke up scared from her nap. He never thought of it like that and with a shy smile, he placed his hand on your knee and explained his dream to become a nurse to feel that sense of belonging in the world while Ed Sheehan sang contentedly in the background.

Joshua met him again and the two often made plans to hang out when their schedules lined up. Apparently they had a ton of mutual friends and they spent a lot of time together, often making a party out of study dates. You didn’t accompany them those times, instead taking advantage of the peace and quiet to catch up on your work, sleep or latest Netflix binge until your roommate came back.

Joshua noticed the sparkle in your eye whenever he saw you with Mingyu or whenever Mingyu stopped by, but he never said anything in fear of you denying it and pushing Mingyu away because it had happened in the past with a few others. However, he knew it wasn’t his business to interfere with your love life so he let you be, watching you slowly fall in love Mingyu, but also wondering if you’d ever make your move. He could tell that while watching Mingyu spraying your back with the sunblock and begging you to join him for a swim, he’d be your one that got away and he remained unsure if you’d be able to bounce back from that. That was one heartbreak Joshua would not know how to handle.

You swore you could never do that, but it was dusk and you saw him fiddling with the bass trying to keep the somber timbre between Hansol and Wonwoo rapping about hope despite the hopelessness they painted and you could feel Joshua wrapping his fingers around your hand as he let their words of affirmation sink in. You squeezed his hand back in reassurance, his breakdown still fresh in your minds and only let it go when you stood up to give Mingyu his well deserved standing ovation and you realized just how far you fell into the rabbit hole. He met your gaze bashfully and looked away just as quickly, a rare thing for someone as confident as Kim Mingyu. You threw a stray flower in his direction, to which he caught by the pink petal and fumbled out a meek, “thank you,” and walked offstage before anymore attention would be on him.

He might have not been the brightest crayon in the box, with the way he’d suddenly exclaim at a bruise he barely noticed while you talked about the possibility of failing one of your classes or whenever he called you in the middle of the night when you were dead asleep and asked if you wanted to go have dinner because he had just finished building the ajuma’s house for her blue jays (but you rejected those offers most of the time). Rather, it was the way he talked a hundred words a minute when it came down to him teaching Aji a new trick to when he raved about how Soonyoung was his favorite person for giving him extra guacamole so he wouldn’t have to ask for more. And your favorite times were when he’d swipe his eyes happily when he told you about the recovering drug addicts and alcoholics and how long they had stayed sober.

Just like that, you could feel the ache in your chest because you were just one of many of Mingyu’s admirers. He treated you the way he treated everyone else: with common courtesy and basic respect. You could easily find him having a meal with one of his coworkers while on break the same way you knew his everyday hobbies that included people. You didn’t let it get to you; just being his friend was more than enough. You merely smiled when it was your turn to spend time with him, feeling like the luckiest person walking the planet because you had been blessed with an angel...with respects to Jeonghan of course.

You kept him close, often letting him fall asleep during a movie when he overworked himself, and turning the air conditioner on as low as it could go because he radiated more body heat than you ever could and then covering yourselves with a blanket so he wouldn’t get cold and helping him make dinner when he didn’t have enough to go out and pretending you were in a relationship, because when he’d pick up whatever he was cooking with his chopsticks, and blowing on it so he could feed it to you and get your opinion, you couldn’t help but feel how domestic it was, especially if you managed to get sauce on your face somewhere and he’d clean it off with a napkin.

And then somewhere between your own mental breakdown from stressing out over everything and Joshua one day telling you he’s getting married, Mingyu also dropped the news he’d be leaving at the end of the month to Japan to pursue a cooking career which turned your life upside down and you went out of your way to shut him out so the goodbye could be easier. It worked some days, like when you agreed to open or close at work so you wouldn’t bump into him and joining a couple of study groups so you wouldn’t outright fail your classes and even accompanied Joshua to see the caterers that interested him the most. You’d be so tired at night, Mingyu wouldn’t even cross your mind as your head hit the pillow and your eyes closed involuntarily and you brought your blanket as close to your face as you could. And some days, it felt impossible because a piece of Mingyu always seemed to be everywhere: the grocery store, the gym you passed by on your way home, the park and you could recall the details, even the insignificant ones like Mingyu tying tying his shoe and jumping in surprise at the bee that flew in his face, mistaking him for a flower. (Could you blame the bee though? He bloomed fully with the light in his eyes and the clean smell from all the soaps and detergents and fabric softener he threw in the washer, and how beautiful he was to marvel at. You would’ve done the same thing.)

The leaves finally started changing their colors, the department stores breaking out the scarves for the cold weather, the coffee shops with their infamous pumpkin spiced everything, and the night crept in earlier with each passing day and yet, the warm weather remained as if not quite letting you let go of Mingyu either.

And even when the first day of autumn officially arrived with promises of rain in the forecast, you still sighed heavily and wondered when the summer would be over for you.

*

“Don’t wait up for me,” Joshua said on the other end of the line. “We’re still looking for homes and the person who owns the venue might be late.”

“You have three days until your wedding and-never mind. Be careful both of you. You have your key, right? Okay, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hung up and immediately went to your room to pick up the (overdue) library books as well as the ones neatly stacked up on the kitchen counter. You were thankful that the librarian working today was familiar with you and wouldn’t charge you the late fees and for that you were grateful.

This particular day brought the time of firsts. You woke up in the morning feeling well rested and okay, and when you opened your window, a cool breeze greeted you. You even checked the weather app, and for the first time in a long time, there was no rain scheduled in the forecast. With that, you burst into a sleeping Joshua’s room and announced the good news, and running out to search for your favorite slipper socks and blanket for the special occasion. You didn’t work and you had finally caught up in most of your classes so as a reward, you binge watched all your favorite movies with your roommate until he had to get ready for the final wedding preparations and hopefully find a place to live. He asked you to come with him, especially because the temperature rose and he found it difficult not to laugh at you for getting carried away but you declined, savoring the day until reality kicked in again. That happened sooner than expected when you saw your books and cursed yourself and gave in, switching out of your pajamas for a pair of shorts.

Chan snickered at you when you sheepishly handed him the books, and as part of the deal, handed him his favorite packet of gum in exchange for the override and after picking out new reads, saw you off with a sarcastic yet happy, “See you next time!” and stuck a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth and blew a bubble.

You hadn’t even been inside long but when you stepped out, you noticed the sky had turned a dark gray color. The cold air picked at your skin and you rubbed your hands up and down along your arms to keep warm. It wasn’t a long walk but you didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. You stopped long enough to put the books into your backpack when you felt the raindrops...and you groaned. The one time you didn’t bring your umbrella and this happened. And you hated the meteorologist in charge of the Seoul weather for not doing their job properly. It fell long and hard with the pent up energy of not doing it sooner.

You had yet to get up but you didn’t have the strength to, feeling overwhelmed as if you had just experienced a betrayal. You were supposed to enjoy the change in climate, not suffocate in it. And just like that, it stopped…but not really. It still fell around you, but it wasn’t pelting you like before. You looked up to see none other than the Kim Mingyu shielding you and himself from the rain. He offered his hand to you, and you hesitantly took it as you stood up.

“What are you doing out here dressed like that? You’re gonna get sick.”

“I didn’t know it was gonna rain. I...had to turn in some books and got some new ones.”

“Doesn’t Joshua hyung take care of you?” The tone he used surprised you. It sounded bitter, almost angry even.

“Joshua had some stuff to do for the wedding,” you mumbled, staring at the wet ground. You didn’t doubt that a few minutes, it’d be pooling at your ankles and you knew that you had to leave. Fast.

“Oh.” He stayed quiet for a moment, but not making an effort to move. “I haven’t seen him lately but please tell him I’m sorry that I’m not gonna be able to attend the ceremony.”

“Mingyu-” You were at a loss for words. “He’s one of your best friends. You need to be there.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’d…” He struggled to say thoughts out, only to fail and choke on them. “I can’t go. He’s one lucky guy.”

You nodded. “I agree. It’s what he’s wanted.”

“Is it what you want though?” He asked.

“Huh?” You looked up at him in confusion. His eyes, often telling the stories of his emotions, stared at you intensely, and you wondered if for a moment, he could see the inside of your soul.

“Does he make you happy?”

“Well, yeah. Mingyu, he’s my best friend-”

“Do you know that he’s cheating on you?”

“What?”

“While you’re over here, probably coming down with a cold, he’s out with someone else. I saw them earlier. They were laughing and holding hands and kissing I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but I can’t come to your wedding knowing that he’s gonna hurt you later in life and-”

And you laughed. So hard you cried and with those tears came all the emotions you’ve been repressing and you cried for everything and he held you with the arm that wasn’t holding the umbrella. “Mingyu…” you had to catch your breath before you could speak properly. “Mingyu, I’m not marrying Joshua.”

“Oh thank God you’ve come to your senses.”

“Mingyu, I never was. I could never, not even for all the money in the world. I love him, I really do, but not like that. Don’t you know that by now?”

“But you guys...are always doing things together...I heard you once when he called you about the flavor of cake you wanted...and how you’re always showing up everywhere together....”

“Mingyu, we’re roommates and friends. It has never gone beyond the platonic level.” Except for one drunken kiss you shared a long time ago, but it was a dare. You had witnesses. “We do a lot of things because it’s convenient for us too.” You took his hand and wrapped your pinkie around his. “He’s happy and I’m happy just the way we are.”

“So you’re not in love with him?” He wiped the last of your tears with his sleeve, looking hopeful.

“No...just you.” You dropped your gaze, not wanting to see his reaction, but wating to hear the rejection.

With that, he dropped the umbrella and took your face in his hands, not caring about getting wet. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.” He pressed his forehead to yours. “I thought, I thought-”

“It’s just you,” you assured him. “It’s always been you, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something as much as this.”

He finally closed the distance between you, enveloping you in a kiss with so much love, it left you breathless. “Let’s go home.”

*

Mingyu laughed as you stepped on him again but didn’t say anything. Since the band played at the reception, he hadn’t let you take a break and while you had gotten a little better, you still had a ways to improve. He kissed your cheek at the effort, and finally cut you some slack and returned to the table, holding your hand proudly the whole time.

The room was alive with music, the laughter and squeals of the children as they ran across the floor, some of them bumping into the dancers, the compliments of the place and the critiques of those family members who wouldn’t have been pleased even if the venue was made of gold, and still you looked around at everyone, the face of the married man who was still gonna be your best friend, to his friends and their dates, smiling at Vernon and his love, just because you knew their history and how his love denied they were together, even though you could see the Hansol’s ring around the neck, loud and clear for the public to see. (You could hear the conversation despite the noise. “I’m gonna smack you right now. Just walk away while you have a chance.”

“You need to let go of my hand first.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”

“Sucks. ‘Bye.”

“Chwe Hansol, come back and give me attention. I’m not done holding your hand.”)

As Joshua clinked his glass to get everyone’s attention, he caught your eye and smiled at you. He stated his speech about his move with you and even though many things had changed, things were relatively the same as well. He was uncertain about his future but one thing remained clear: with his love, he could face anything.

And you looked at Mingyu again, staring at you with a smile on his face, and you kissed him softly. Because as long as you had him, the world could hurl whatever it wanted at you.

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