Imagine and fic´s

I like to write, so I write short fics from time to time. *WARNING: some of the fics WILL contain spoilers

[imagineandfics]

You are MINE -Joffrey Baratheon Imagine

“What are you doing?” Joffrey hissed, as he rushed towards us. Loras gave his king an odd look, but didn’t say a thing.

“Your Grace, I-” I said, before he shut me off with an annoyed arm gesture. His green eyes seemed to turn red and smoke started streaming out of his ears. He turned to Loras, pointing his finger at him, saying; “You are a knight of the King’s Guard, you have no right to flirt with any of the girls at or outside of court!”

“Your Grace.” Loras started, looking at me from the corner of his eye, before standing up straight, looking at the tiny king.

“She’s my cousin on my mother’s side. Y/N was a Hightower before she was married off to Filip Oakheart, she lived at Highgarden the most of her life. She’s like a sister to me, Sire.” He explained, and for some terrible seconds, I thought that Joffrey might hurt him.

“I swear, Your Grace, Loras is nothing more than family.” I said, trying to make my voice sound more steady, but it was hard to do when he looked at you that way.

he looked at us in silence for a few seconds, before opening his mouth, and said in a careful voice: “I hope you’re right, Lady Oakheart.”

Something about the way he said my new family name, made a cold shiver run down my spine, causing me to shake lightly. He gave me an unreadable look, before turning around and going away.

I tucked at Loras’s arm, who in return padded my hand lightly.

“Is he always that frightning?” I whispered, as he walked me back to my chambers.

“No,” he replied quietly. “Sometimes he’s even worse.”

                                                             ***

“Lady Oakheart.” a voice said behind me, and cold spread all through my body. I turned around, and panicked as I saw the king and his trusted Hound walking towards us.

“What is he doing here?” my sister in law, Irene, hissed, as her grib around my arm tightened, as if she wanted to pull me away.

“He’s the king, technically he own this place.” I whispered back.

“Your Grace.” Irene said when Joffrey was only a few feet away, as she curtseyed and gave the Hound a worried look.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” she said with a tense smile.

“I was wondering if Y/N would take a walk in the rose gardens with me?”

“No,” I said shaking my head. “We have a lunchon to attend, I can’t. Not today, besides it would look improper for me to have a walk with you.”

“Improper?” He asked coldly, his arms crossing over his chest. “How?”

“I’m married, your grace.” I smiled. “And my husband is waiting for us.”

I turned Irene and I around, and started walking towards the Tyrell’s chambers.

“Do you think that was wise?” Irene hissed, this time sounding more panicked than ever.

“No, but I’ve got no choice. He terrifies me.” I hissed back and glanced back at him. Joffrey looked tense, and on the egde to explode.

“So your husband is more important than your king?” He nearly screamed the words, and I couldn’t get myself to turn around,  so with my back still to him I said: “A wife has her duties, your Grace.”

                                                              ***             

At the night of a great ball, held in the honour of the new Hand, things took a turn for the stranger. I was stading with my husband, discussing something mildly uninteresting with Mace Tyrell  (yes I love my uncle, but Gods he can be so boring.) when the King joined us.

At first we all thought he was there for Margery, my lovely cousin to whom he’s engaged, but the mood in our small group shifted dramatically when he asked me to dance with him. Filip’s hand tightened slightly around my arm, in a silent protest. Margery gave me a weird look, as if she was trying to figure out how to comb out the situation. 

“She’d love to!” Mace exclaimed, before he blurt out a merry laughter, leaving me with no other choice than taking Joffrey’s hand and following him onto the dance floor.

“I don’t like the company you’re keeping.” He said as we started swirling about. 

“Id like it very much if we send Sir Loras and your husband back home, so you can get some proper company.” 

“Proper company, your Grace?” 

“Yes, proper company. Well breed ladies and such.”

I gave him an odd look, and felt a small pit of anger opening within me.

“Isn’t my cousins proper ladies? My husband’s sister? Not even the Lady of Cider Hall?” I asked, my displeasure filling my voice. He grunted and flashed a crooked, unreadable smile.

“You should try to talk to some of the ladies who aren’t connected to your husband. ”

I stopped mid-dance and look directly into his cold, green eyes.

“What’s wrong with my husband?”

“He thinks he own you, but he doesn’t. I do.” He replied coldly, and his long fingers wrapped themselves around my arms. A few people around the room gave us curious looks, while the most of them ignore the little scene unfolding in front of them.

“Nobody own me, your Grace.” I replied in the most put together voice I could manage. His right hand let go of me, and snaked it’s way to my face, where it gently grabbed my chin.

“But don’t you understand my dear, dear Lady Hightower?” The weird mixture of his sugar-sweet voice, and the fact that he had used my maiden-name to address me, made a ice cold shiver run down my spine.

“I own you. You’re MINE!” In a flash, the hand touching my chin grabbed my hair and jerked my head downwards.

“You will always be mine, and I WILL have you for myself, do you understand?!” He screamed the words, and by now all attention was on us. I looked up, and saw a couple of guards looking uneasily at me and the king, not sure of what to do: should they help the woman being assaulted in front of them, or should they let their king be?

A terrified squeal escaped my lungs, as my hands went to the roots of my hair, which Joffrey was trying to pull out.

“Can’t you see you’re hurting her, your Grace?” Someone called from the mist of people, I couldn’t make out the person, and for their sake I hoped that nobody else could.

“Your Grace!” Someone called, and Tywin Lannister, tightly followed by his daughter made their way towards us.

“Maybe we should settle this matter in a more private setting?” The old man proposed. Joffrey looked down at me, and then let go of my hair, but grabbed my wrist in the moment Filip started moving towards us.

“Very well,” the king replied. “Let’s get on with it. Come with me, both of you.” He said as he began dragging me towards the door, the two elders following close behind.

                                                            ***

“Everything is ready my love. Come, we have to leave before anyone notice what we’re doing.” Filip’s voice was quiet, but still loving despite everything that had happened.

“What will happen when he finds out we’re gone?” I asked and stood up stiffly. He gave me a frail smile, fetched my cape, and put it on me, with caring movements like those of a parent or caregiver.

“I don’t know.” He replied bluntly, and carefully pushed some loose strains of hair back behind my ear, brushing his fingertips across the bruise on my cheekbone I’d earned during the conversation with the Lannisters.

“But we’re under Highgarden’s protection, nothing can happen to us, I assure you.” I nodded and pulled the hood down, so it shadowed my face, before taking his warm hand, and disappearing into the night, away from the Red Keep and it’s king.

[imagineandfics]

Do you do dirty imagines?

I’m terrible at writing smut, but yeah

[imagineandfics]

What are the fandoms that you write for?

Quite frankly dear Anon, I write for all the fandoms xx

[imagineandfics]

There's Nothing You Can Do -Gendry Imagine

“Gendry, my love,” I spoke softly as I entered the smithy. He’d been out there for nearly an hour, and whenever I passed the door I heard his angry outbursts. 

He stood my the forge, slamming his hammer onto the red blowing metal. His broad shoulders stood in clear contrast to the light from the fire, and a light layer of sweat made his bare back shine. 

“Gendry,” I repeated his name sweetly, and felt my heart jerk in my chest as he stopped mid-movement. 

I walked over and slowly wrapped my arms around him, kissing his shoulder. 

“It’s ok.” I told him. 

“No, it’s not.” He said, his voice filled with anger and remorse. 

“You had no choice. It was either us or those strangers." 

"But what will they do to them?" 

"It’s Lady Stoneheart’s men, no matter what they’ve done, they’ll get what they deserved." 

"But what if they did not deserve it. They seemed so desperate.” He said calmly, and turned around in my face, so we stood face to face. 

“What if we’ve got it all wrong? What if Stoneheart and her disciples are the cruel and unjust ones? What if they do not fight for the King of the North?”

I looked up into his sad eyes and shrugged, before asking; “does that really mean anything? She keeps us safe after all." 

He caressed my cheek and gave me a small smile. "I know. But remember; I knew his sister. That woman who was here, said she was looking for the Stark girls, what if she wasn’t lying?" 

"My darling, you have to let it go.” I said, doing my best not to flinch by how mean I sounded, before continuing. 

“Stoneheart has them, there’s nothing you can do. I know you care for Arya, but there’s nothing you can do." 

He nodded, before kissing me lightly and letting me go. 

"I love you." 

"I love you too.”

[imagineandfics]

You Will Be Queen-Tommen Baratheon Imagine

“Tommen?” I whispered, and tapped his shoulder lightly. He gazed at me over his shoulder, before turning back to the high Septon, talking to parishioners about the seven. 

“Tommen, please.” I repeated. 

“We’re in a Sept.” he whispered back at me. “Later, not now.”

I stepped a bit back, straightened my back and fixed my eyes on the Septon, trying to act normal. As the service ended, the king chatted merrily with the other goers, as I stayed in the shadows, so to speak. I felt the occasional gazes and let my ears grow deaf to the frequent whispers. They’re still grieving, I’ve got to let them get over it in their own pace. I reminded myself. 

 As the time came for us to get back to the castle, a member of the king’s guard came over to take me to the carriages. I was neatly placed beside his Grace’s sister and across from one of the sandsnakes of Dorne, while Tommen drove in another carriage a few metres in front of us. 

 “Why won’t he speak to me?” I asked Myrcella. 

“I don’t know. He will, I just think he still needs some time to cope.”I nodded silently and looked out of the small window.

 ——————————————————————————————–

When our carage arrived back at the castle, the feast had already begun, and Tommen were discussing with his advisers in his private chambers. I took a deep breath and joined the others at the table, trying to ignore the nagging feeling of being ignored by my husband to be.This went on all night. 

 As people grew drunker and more tired, the party started splitting up.I sat still in my seat, watching over Tommen the same way a hawk watches over a slow rabbit. He waved Sir Jaime over and whispered something to him, before the cripple nodded and walked around the room to speak to the other members of the king’s Guard. This could only mean one thing: Tommen is leaving the party. 

 Since Queen Cersei was assassinated about a year ago, any member of the Royal family has been obligated to inform the king’s Guard, OR their own personal Guard that they want to leave, so the Guard has the time to gather and make sure that his or her grace makes it safely to wherever they want to go. I bed the others at the table a good night, before I walked out of the room and went up to Tommen’s quarters, letting myself in, without the guard posted outside the door noticed (side note; I have to make Tommen invest money on better security) 

“Y/n!” He nearly screamed as he entered the room and found me sitting waiting for him. His Guards drew their swords and Sir Jaime send me an evil look. 

“Drop the swords,” the king said calmly, still looking at me. 

 "What are you doing here?“ He then asked. "You promised we’d talk.” He nodded and waved at his guards, as to say he’d be fine on his own now. Everyone left the room, except Sir Jaime, whose cruel eyes wouldn’t leave me, it was as a bit of his sister’s soul had found its way into him after she died.

 "What do you want to talk about.“ He asked, as he removed the crown from his head and placed it on the table. 

 "Us.” I responded sternly, and didn’t as much as flinch when he let out an exhausted sigh and gave me a side glance. 

 "You used to love me. You’d take me out and about, visit me, pay tribute to my father… You asked for my hand in marriage, even though you were already married!“ He looked directly at me, and all of a sudden he look much older than his twenty-four namedays. 

 "And then she di-ied,” I pressed the words out of my mouth and took a deep breath as my voice broke. 

“Don’t you love me anymore, now that you can have me?” I asked and my heart broke a bit when I looked at his tired face. “I do realise that you’ve lost a lot, but you ignore me constantly! I’m just so scared that" 

 Tommen walked forwards, and took both of my hands into his own, and looked me directly in the eye. They are so kind, his eyes. People would always say, how he looked like Cersei and how he’s reign as his mother, I hope they know how wrong they were about him. 

 "I will make you my Queen. My darling, I swear upon all the Gods that you’ll reign beside me before the year is over.” I looked at him, slightly surprised by his bolt promise. 

 "I’m sorry for ignoring you, everything is just.. There’s so much… The war is over, but I can still feel it, smouldering like ember in a hearth.“ He said, his house sounding like he was about to break.

I slipped one of my hands out of his firm grip and touched his cheek lovingly. 

 "I know.”

[imagineandfics]

The Secret Wife -Ned Stark Imagine

“Eddard what on earth are you doing here?” I asked him, as he moved past me and into the hallway. I had a quick look outside to make sure no one had followed him, before closing and locking the door. “You weren’t supposed to be here until Sunday.” I said and turned around to face him. He pulled the hood away from his face, and his grey eyes looked directly at me, stormy with sadness. His clothes and hair was soaked and rainwater formed a small pool around his feet on the floor. I felt and urge to find a cloth and dry it up, but his sad eyes made me forget about it. the maid can do it tomorrow I suppose

“I know, but I needed to see you.” He said, stepping closer. I reached out and touched his right arm gently. 

“You’re soaked to the bone love, you ought to change into something dry, unless you want to go down with a fever.” 

“I have more important things to think about than a fever.” He said, and touched my cheek sweetly, brushing some of my hair up behind my ear. I smiled at him and took the hand he’d placed in my hair.

“Come. Take a bath with me. I’ll have the maid fetch you some fresh clothes.”

I said as I started dragging him with me upstairs. 

“The children?” He asked as we climbed up. 

“They’re asleep.” I said and stopped at the top of the stairs to look at him. “It’s in the middle of the night Eddard, it’s too late to play happy family.” 

“I know love.” 

“You can stay till morning and say hi to them then.” 

“Catelyn will wonder where I am.” 

“You’ve stayed overnight before.” I said and gave him a side glance before adding. “What’s changed?” 

"Everything I'm afraid." He said as we entered the small bathroom, where the tub was already full and steaming. 

"I'd planned on bathing alone as you can see." I said with a light shrug, before placing my robe on the hanger and slipping into the hot water. 

"However, I'll never say no to good company." The always so serious Lord Eddard Stark let out a light chuckle, and become once again the boy I'd fallen in love with all those years ago. 

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

 He gave me the cup of mulled wine before setting down across from me at the small table in the corner of my bedroom. I took a minute to enjoy its taste, before taking a good look at Eddard. He looked tired and more worried than he'd done in years. 

"Why are you here, Eddard?" I asked very softly, and closed both hands around my cup. "You never leaves your duties to see me unless theres something big going on." I explained when he gave me a questioning look. He nodded silently and put down his cup before looking me directly in the eye. 

"Robert wants me to come to Kingslanding and be his hand." I froze for a second and stared into the fireplace. 

"I knew that old fool had a reason to come all this way." I muttered. 

"My love-" 

"Do not defend him, Eddard." I said sternly and looked at him once again. "You're here to hear my thoughts." I didn't ask him, I knew. He nodded silently.

"What do you think?" His voice were so unsure and weak, it nearly stunned me, he hasn't sounded anything like that since his sister died. I put my cup down and reached out for his hand. 

"You've already made up your mind my sweet, it doesn't matter what I say, you'll do your duty, just as you've always have." 

 "So you want me to go to Kingslanding?" 

"No. I want you to stay here with me and the children, to be my husband, Eddard the Miller. But you can't, we both know that." After that the silence grew thicker, the only thing that let me know that I wasn't alone, was his hand in mine. 

“I’ve always wondered why you kept calling me Eddard, when everybody else used Ned.” He asked and broke the silence. I gave him a soft smile and reached out to stroke his cheek. 

“Because you’re their Ned. By calling you Eddard I automatically separate you from your real family.” 

“But you are my family.” He defended, looking me sternly in the eye. “You and the kids.” 

I shook my head and let out a soft chuckle. “No Ned, they’re your family. You chose Catelyn Tully above me many years ago.” 

"That wasn't the plan-" 

"Neither was the death of your siblings, but it all happened, nothing can change that." 

"You're my-" 

"Your what, Eddard? Your lover? Your whore?" I said in an amused tone. He froze the second the word 'whore' left my mouth. 

"No, you've never ever been my whore." 

"Yes I have. I am. A well paid and well treated whore, but a whore still." 

"I’ve never paid you." He said and looked me in the eye. 

"You didn't?" I asked with a smirk. "What do you call all of this then? The house, the mill, the money, the servants. Tell me, are you as generous with all your small folk?" He let out a sigh and kissed my hand gently. ‘

"You are my wife. We said our vows in the Gods' Wood when we were fifteen. If anything, Catelyn's my whore." I let out a loud laughter and covered my mouth. 

"Never tell her that." 

"I won't, it'll be our little secret."

[imagineandfics]

Tell Me About The Vikings -Tormund Giantsbane Imagine

“Kissed by fire, you say?” I chuckled looking at the redheaded wildling. “Aye, that’s what us free folk say.” He said, and drank deep of his ale. “We don’t call redheads anything special where I’m from.” I said, Before following his example.

“Now, tell me some of the Vikings.” Tomund said in a quiet voice, as he shifted a bit closer. We were far from alone at the giant fire, in the middle of smaller fires. According to Tomund, the small fires protected the camp against the walking corpses. I hoped he was right, I’d seen way too much of my own people getting killed by these creatures, and even had to put an axe to my sisters face after she’d transformed into one of them.

“What do you want to know?” I asked in an equally silent tone. “And why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know.” He chuckled. “Tell me everything.”

“There isn’t much to tell. We are warriors. Proud and loyal to our kin. We’re much like your free folk, tho we have other gods than the ones struck in the white trees, the ones your people worship.”

“Who do you worship then?”

“We have a lot of gods.” I told him.

“So you worship the seven gods like some o’ those crows?” he asked, and put down his ale, giving me a suspicious look.

“No,” I laughed looked into the fire and remembered the village and my people, before The Dead That Walk appeared and took it all away from us.

“We have Thor, Odin, Freja and her twin Frej. We have warriors and mothers, sisters and leaders. People who you want to become and some who’re your worst nightmare.”

“Tell me more of these strange gods.” He said with a small smile.“It’s a long tale, Tormund The One Kissed By fire.”

“I have the time. Those Crows won’t let us through their bloody wall till morning anyways.”

[imagineandfics]

Forget The Deadline -Ben Cook Imagine

“Good afternoon!” Ben yelled cheerfully from the hallway. I didn’t managed to answer, before I erupted into a sneezing fit. When the torture finally stopped, I looked up with watery eyes, and reached out for the Kleenex package. I let out an annoyed groan as I realised that the box was empty.

 "For fucks sake, how did I manage to empty that box in less than a day?“ I asked Ben as he entered the room. He smiled at me, before handing me a small shopping bag, and sitting down beside me. 

 "Because that little nose of yours has chosen to make a riot.” He told me and poked me gently on the tip of my nose. I opened the bag, and pulled out two new boxes of paper tissues. I chuckled gently and have him a little hug. 

“Thanks Benny.” I said with my husky voice, as I laid my head against his shoulder. 

“Welcome sweetling.” I closed my eyes and rested my pounding head against his shoulder, and enjoyed the silence and the calm sound of his breathing. And then it hit me. I sat up straight, in an almost panicking manner. 

“What time is it?” “About three thirty.-” he said as I stood up and walked towards the messy desk in the corner. 

“Y/n what are you doing?” He asked as I started to go through all the loose papers. 

“I have a deadline.” I said and sniffed, which lead me into a half choking, half coughing fit. 

 "To hell with that deadline!“ He said and placed his warm hand on the small of my back, I hadn’t realised how cold I was. 

"You’re ill, you need rest. Your boss will understand, you talked with him this morning.” He said sweetly as I tried to find the papers I was looking for. 

“Ben, it’s a deadline. I can’t screw this up, I need to send it in." 

 "No you don’t.” He said, sounding almost begging. 

“Go back to bed. The doctor said you needed rest, and a lot of it. Your boss know you’re ill, you said yourself that he changed that deadline to sometime next week.” I stood up straight, letting go of the papers, and looked him dead in the eye. 

“Ben I can’t just-” I said before getting cut of with another series of sneezes. He handed me a paper tissue along with a gentle smile. I blew my nose, and looked up at him, almost blind due to the tears in my eyes. God, how I hate being ill. The constant tears and sneezing is enough to drive any sane person utterly mad. “Ok,” I whispered, coughed, and then made eye contact again. 

“I’ll go back to bed.” I said as I’d dried up my face. He smiled again, and kissed my forehead. 

“Go ahead, I’ll bring you a cuppa in a minute.” He said before disappearing into the kitchen.

[imagineandfics]

How Long Can I Keep You This Time? -Jaqen H'ghar Imagine

For mentolicious, I’m sorry for keeping you waiting for literally months, I hope this is worth the wait.

—————————————————————————————————————————————

"Jaqen? Is that you?" I asked, and looked into the mirror, at the figure that had appeared in the window frame behind me. The man jumped down from the frame, and landed elegantly and without a sound on the floor.

“Y/n.” he whispered, his voice the same as always. I stood up and he ran to me, crushing my body against his, as he buried his head in my hair.

“I thought you were gone.” I breathed, forcing back the tears. “I thought you’d never come back.”

“I’m here now, I’m here.” he assured me lovingly, squeezing me tighter. I pushed him a bit back, and laid a soft hand against his new face. He gave me a sad smile, and then his face started turning back to the face I knew the best.

“How long can I keep you this time?”

"I have no idea. But longer than last time, I hope." He told me, before pulling me in for a short, soft kiss.

“How long is that?”

“However long I’ll have before I’m called back.”

“So, two days?”

“Maybe a week, if I’m lucky.” He said and ran his fingers through my hair, before letting it run down to my chest, torso, back, butt.

He reached down, and started kissing my neck, and suddenly my thin nightgown felt nonexistent.

“Jaqen.” I mumbled, biting my lower lip.

“Jaqen, my parents. They’re here, just in other room. We can’t.” he stopped and looked me in the eye, touching my cheek lightly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He told me sweetly, kissing my forehead.

“Do you want to go on a midnight adventure?” he asked with smirk. I nodded, and ran to my closet, and removed the small piece of wood at the bottom, and pulled out a black pair of trousers and a shirt, and tossed it all into Jaqen’s arm, along with a pair of booths I’d hidden beneath my bed. I quickly change into the fresh clothes.

I poked Jaqen’s shoulder lightly, and he turned around to face me. He chuckled lightly, as he lifted up in some of my long, lose hanging hair. He walked up behind me, and started braiding, his movements tugging lightly in my scalp, in that comfortable way.

"Done." He whispered into my ear, kissing my cheek, before walking up to the window.

"Ready for some fun?" I asked him, as I took his hand at the window frame.

"Always." He said with a wide smile, stepping a bit back, giving me access to the window. I stepped forth, got a grip of the frame, and then started crawling down the stone wall, which was still warm, now several hours after sunset.

I landed softly on the ground, and quickly hid in the shadow behind some trees, waiting for Jaqen as he moved down the wall faster and more silent than what should be humanly possible, but then again, I’m not quite sure that Jaqen is completely human.

I jumped forth and tapped him on the shoulder, before running past him and out of my family’s garden, and into the streets of the city.

Jaqen and I ran around the city, climbed the walls, towers and what ever else we wanted to explore. Neither of us said much, only a few remarks or warnings, but it was nice, just running around like two wild animals, doing exactly as they please.

After what felt like an eternality of freedom and fun, we took a hold at a small lake outside the city walls.

“So.. What are you planning to do now that you’re back?” I asked, as we sat with our backs up against a tree, looking up at the night sky. I turned my face slightly, so I could see him in profile.

“Are you going to visit your mother?” I asked with a small smirk, and felt my heart flutter as I saw him smile slightly.

“Maybe I should pay her a visit, how is she?” He asked and looked at me, his eyes being light up by the stars above.

“She’s good, still managing the bakeshop with grace, you should be proud of her.” “And the boy?” He asked, in an uncertain manner.

“He’s good. Growing every time I see him.” I said before growing quiet, the bitterness spreading in my veins, as I looked into the dusty ground.

“His features are starting to show. It’ll soon be impossible to hide his heritage.” I glanced out of the side of my eye, to catch a glimpse of what looked like a weak smile.

“I should marry you. Claim our son. Be the man you deserve.” He breathed.

“You probably should.” I whispered back at him, before standing up, and heading towards the water. I kicked off my booths, and started unbuttoning my shirt, before letting it fall to the ground. As I stood at the edge between the ground and water, I snaked out of my trousers and tossed them away, before turning to face Jaqen, who was still watching me from beneath the tree.

“But lets forget about that for time being.” I told him as I reached out towards him.¨

He slowly got to his feet, and started moving towards me, in the meantime, I walked into the water, until walking was impossible and I had to start swimming. I felt the water move, as Jaqen entered the water to join me. He embraced me firmly, before pressings his rough lips to mine. I pressed myself closer into him, resting my arms around his neck. And for the time being, we once again forgot about, how impossible and dangerous this we were doing actually was.

[imagineandfics]

Date in a dream -Noel Fielding Imagine

I was at a hotel of some sort, a cruise ship to be exact, at least I think it was a cruise ship, which is pretty strange thinking of how I feel about sailing, but that isn’t important. I think my parents were there too, tho I didn’t spend much time with them, the dream-version of me had much more important things to do. You see, Noel Fielding was there, in all his amazing glory. I like to think that in dreams there’s no such things as limits, which means no rules and no ages, which of course means no age gaps that makes the dream wrong and perverted. Well, back to Noel. I was walking around this giant place by myself when I spotted the gorgeous Goth Guy. He was, like myself, just walking around this giant place, looking slightly lost. Our eyes locked, and he waved at me. At this point, the normal non-dreaming me would probably have blushed like the complete goff that I am, but my dream-me turned out to be a lot cooler than I’ll ever be, because she just waved back at him with a wide smile, and the started walking towards him. He was cute, even cuter up close, and a bit taller than myself, and I just remember having this urge to kiss him, I’m still not completely sure if it was my dream-me who wanted the kiss, or if it was the actual me who is crushing on him with a force of raging river. However, I wanted to kiss him. But I didn’t. Instead, we started chatting. He was funnier than I’d expected him to be, and I’d expected him to be very funny. And he was incredibly, almost scarily charming, I’m not sure if he knew how charming he was, but wauw, if it’d happened in actual real life, my ovaries would, without a doubt, have exploded into a million small pieces of goo. Seeing as it was a dream, I don’t remember much of the conversation, but I remember bits and pieces.

“Do you want to go for dinner?” He asked me at some point, as we walked around this giant rose garden, which I assume all dream cruise ships have on their deck somewhere.

“Yeah.” I said, smiling like a complete dork, honestly, as the dream went on, it turned out that my dream-I and real life-me had a lot more in common than I first thought, for example, I blushed, A LOT, when he firmly took my hand and kissed it.

The date was great. I don’t remember the actual dinner, but I remember the stuff that happened afterwards. I remember his arm around me with his hand my hip, as we walked around the boat, giggling and talking, forgetting the apparently billions of people who were on this boat too.

Of course no date is complete before I do the most me thing in the world, and fall over my own feet. He managed to catch me before I hit the ground tho, and we laughed a bit at that, as my cheeks was burning hotter than the sun.

“You look cute when you blush, you know that, right?” he asked me, making me blush an even deeper red, again, a classic me-move.

He eventually had return me back to my room. But before he left, he dragged me in close and kissed me deeply before wishing me a good night of sleep, and disappearing down the hallway, leaving dream-me with butterflies in her stomach and a pounding heart.

I do realize that this dream was incredibly cheesy, but God, how I loved it. I swear, when I woke up this morning, I could still feel where he’d kissed my cheek, and his hand resting against my hip. Again, cheesy as fuck, but as a teenage girl, I’ve got to accept that that’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to Noel, or any of my future or past crushes for that matter.

Dreams are strange, they can put us in the middle of the greatest moment we’d ever experience, and it can scare the hell out of us, making us unable to sleep properly for days. They can give us hope, and fond memories and they can prepare us for future obstacles.

But instead of preparing me for my scary future as an adult, or my exams in a couple of months, my brain decided to grant me a date with a man that I love and admire a great deal.

Yes, I do know, that a dream is nothing more than the product of a hyperactive imagination and some chemicals in my brain, but that doesn’t change the fact that it felt true, at least while dreaming, nor does it mean that the smile on my face as I remember what happened is fake.

[imagineandfics]

Why Are You Hiding -Jaime Lannister Imagine

The party was incredibly dull. Even duller that these types of “parties” usually are.

As a girl, you have to be quiet, pretty and do as you’re told. You’re your father’s to show and brag about, his precious trophy, but only until he marries you of to someone, and then you’ll become his trophy.

I was standing by myself on the outskirts of the festivities, trying to imagine myself back home to Winterfell. The party was held somewhere in the river lands, by some minor lord whose name I don’t remember, it was only one of a number of stupid parties we’d attended in the last couple of weeks.

“So why are you hiding here?” Someone asked. I span around, and stood face to face with a blond boy, with shiny eyes and a lion on his vest.

“I could ask you the same thing.” I told the boy. He chuckled lightly.

"I’m bored by the party, so I wanted to go for a walk." He said sounding amused, with his arms casually crossed at his chest.

"Then, I saw a girl stand by herself and I thought that the only appropriate thing to do was to go over and introduce myself." He finished with a light shrug.

"Only problem with your plan, is the fact that you’ve forgotten the introduction." I reminded him with a small smile.

"True. Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock." He said proudly. "And you are?"

"Y/n of house Stark." I informed him in a monotone voice, I could and probably should have added Winterfell somewhere in my introduction, however the last couple of weeks I’d felt more like a Stark of the Kingsroad than of Winterfell.

"I didn’t know Starks could be pretty."

"And I didn’t know Lannisters could be polite." I mocked. He laughed softly while shaking his head at me. He put out his arm and looked at me in an inviting manner. "Do you want to go for a walk with me, Lady Stark?"

“Why not, it’s not really like I have more interesting things to do.” I said and took his arm. He lead me towards the door, and as we walked through the room, I locked eyes with a blond girl who looked me up and down with a disapproving face.

“Who was she?” I asked him. He gave me a sideways glance and a smile dragged a bit in the corner of his mouth.

“My sister, Cersei. Don’t worry, she roars a lot, but she’s too filled with pride to ever attack, she finds that to be beneath folk like us.” He assured me and squeezed my hand lightly.

“And you don’t agree with her?” I asked curiously and looked up at his face.

“No. Fighting is human, it’s what the Gods created us for, I see no reason to act like Septons.”

“So, according to you, The Gods just want us all to fight wars and concur? You make us sound like wildlings or some sort of strange Iron Lord who has been drinking way too much salt water.”

He stopped, and looked me directly in the eye, with a witty smile.

“Why didn’t you drag me out of there hours ago?” He asked, making his voice sound playfully offended.

“Why should I?” “

Because you’re a lot more interesting than anything going on in there.”

“I could say the same about you.”

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We spent most of the following three days together, and when the time was up, and my dad decided it was time for us to go on, to the next lord we had to spend time with, before we could finally go back home.

“I’m going to miss you. When I’m back at Casterly Rock I’ve got no one but Cersie and Tyrion.” Jaime complained as we walked through the small God’s Wood for the last time.

“Oh, I can’t magine the pain.” I laughed at him, bumped my shoulder lightly into his arm. He reached out and grabbed my hand, making the both of us stop in our tracks.

“I’m serious, Stark. I’m going to miss you.” He told me with stern eyes and a soft, caring face.

“Prove it.” I dared with a smirk. He gave me a small smile, and shook his head in an amused manner. He looked up at have me one of those smiles which had become so familiar to me.

He then stepped a bit closer.

His hand on my arm, shifted to my shoulder.

Then my cheek.

He looked me in the eye for a bit, before he moved in.

His kiss was sweet. When you think of a Lannister, you never imagine them to be gentle or caring.

You think of them as sexual creatures, driven by power and gold. But right in this instance, he almost felt fragile. He pulled away, his face a few inches away from mine, his hands on my face.

“Did this prove it?” He asked me quietly.

“Yes.” I breathed, looking into his amazing eyes.

“Good.” He whispered, before reaching in again for another kiss, this time tho, I was quicker than him.

"I have to go." I said as I pulled away from him.

"My father awaits."

"Why don't we marry? Then you could come with me back to Casterly Rock?" "Jaime! I can't believe that you of all people are proposing this." I exclaimed.

"My father is looking for a good match for me, the same goes for your father. If we play my cards right, we can make this work." He said, squeezing my hands lightly.

"By 'we' I suppose you me 'you'. My father is not going to listen to me."

"Does that mean you want to marry me?" He said surprised.

"Yes!" I laughed. "Of course!" He laughed as well and dragged me into a hug, swinging me around.

"But I really have to go" I told as he put me back down again.

"I know." He sighed. He followed me back to my family, kiss my hand, before turning around and going back inside.

[neil-gaiman]

I have been trying to write for a while now. I have all these amazing ideas, but its really hard getting my thoughts onto paper. Thus, my ideas never really come to fruition. Do you have any advice?

Write the ideas down. If they are going to be stories, try and tell the stories you would like to read. Finish the things you start to write. Do it a lot and you will be a writer. The only way to do it is to do it. 

I’m just kidding. There are much easier ways of doing it. For example: On the top of a distant mountain there grows a tree with silver leaves. Once every year, at dawn on April 30th, this tree blossoms, with five flowers, and over the next hour each blossom becomes a berry, first a green berry, then black, then golden.

At the moment the five berries become golden, five white crows, who have been waiting on the mountain, and which you will have mistaken for snow, will swoop down on the tree, greedily stripping it of all its berries, and will fly off, laughing.

You must catch, with your bare hands, the smallest of the crows, and you must force it to give up the berry (the crows do not swallow the berries. They carry them far across the ocean, to an enchanter’s garden, to drop, one by one, into the mouth of his daughter, who will wake from her enchanted sleep only when a thousand such berries have been fed to her). When you have obtained the golden berry, you must place it under your tongue, and return directly to your home.

For the next week, you must speak to no-one, not even your loved ones or a highway patrol officer stopping you for speeding. Say nothing. Do not sleep. Let the berry sit beneath your tongue.

At midnight on the seventh day you must go to the highest place in your town (it is common to climb on roofs for this step) and, with the berry safely beneath your tongue, recite the whole of Fox in Socks. Do not let the berry slip from your tongue. Do not miss out any of the poem, or skip any of the bits of the Muddle Puddle Tweetle Poodle Beetle Noodle Bottle Paddle Battle.

Then, and only then, can you swallow the berry. You must return home as quickly as you can, for you have only half an hour at most before you fall into a deep sleep.

When you wake in the morning, you will be able to get your thoughts and ideas down onto the paper, and you will be a writer. 

[imagineandfics]

Do you take reader insert requests??

Depends on what you mean with reader inserted fics/requests.Like, is it your name (instead of y/n) you want me to put in there? Or is it something else? :)

[imagineandfics]

Oh Little Pup -Joffrey Baratheon Imagine

Of course you’re allowed to request stuff, this was so awesome to write! I tried my best to make it fit with the story (asoiaf/got).. I tried

—————————————————————————————————————————————-

“Joffrey Baratheon,” a loud voice said somewhere in the dark. The just passed little king found himself in the dark, unable to see anything but seven shadows standing around him.

“Show yourself!” The boy commanded, the fear so clear in his voice, that he heard it himself and flinched by how childish he sounded.

”I am your king, I command you to come forth.” He continued, receiving a choir of laughter. The little king felt his cheeks get warm as his anger and fright grew.

“Oh little pup, how loud your roar is.” An amused female voice said from the darkness. The king slowly turned around, trying to see if he could just recognize one face or body shape or anything that could tell him who these kidnappers were.

“Be kind to the boy, he’s scared.” Another female voice spoke softly, bringing one of the other shadows to laugh loudly.

“Be kind to him? You do know what this little brat has done, don't you?” Another man said, his voice husky sounding as through he’d breath fire and smoke for centuries.

“Yes, but I don’t think scaring him will be of any help.” Another woman responded sharply, sounding a bit like the king’s own mother when she’d try to discipline him or his siblings.

”Who are you?” The boy heard himself ask.

“I thought you’d never ask.” A voice responded, calmly, coolly. If you could compare a voice to an animal, you’d compare this one to a snake, it sneaks closer and closer, and send shivers down your spine, it’s scary, creepy even, and yet strangely beautiful and elegant. By far this was the voice that scared Joffrey the most.

“The Father.”

“I’m the Mother.”

“The Maiden.”

“The Smith.”

“The Crone.”

“The Warrior.”

“The Stranger.”

Joffrey froze where he stood, before his knees gave up beneath him.

“And we’re here to judge you, little king.” The father said, you could almost see the smile on his shadowed face.

“But I thought you were one god..” The boy said stupidly, causing a deadly silence to lay over the dark room. The Crone broke the silence with a harsh cough.

“We are one and the same, little pup. We are seven gods and we’re one, all just a piece of the puzzle.”

“But what’s that supposed to mean?” Joffrey whined, his face winkling into those horrible, childish folds.

“Silence!” The father yelled.

“I suppose you know your faith, boy.”

“Yes.. Sir.” The boy whimpered, if it’d been possible for the dead to piss themselves, he would have done it by now.

“Then you know, that it’s me who have to decide what to do with you.” The Father said, and the boy on the floor nodded.

”We could send him into the seventh hell with all the other mad kings.” The Maiden giggled, her giggle reminded him of Margaery and a bit of Sansa, back before he’d gotten her father executed.

“Or you could let me poke holes in the fool.” The Warrior said in a clear proud tone that reminded him of every knight he’d ever met.

“You could give him to me, Father, I’d like to see how much it takes to make the lion cry.” The Smith said shortly after, making Joffrey look up at the figures.

“I am no lion!” The boy yelled as he slowly got to his feet. “I am Joffrey Baratheon, the first of his name. I am a stag!” The room went silent for a second, before the laughter exploded all around him.

“Maybe we should punish him with the truth.” The Crone suggested.

“But he’s only a child.” The mother said urgently.

“But don’t you think he deserves to know the truth of his heritage?” The Crone asked firmly.

“I agree. Crone, show him everything.” The father decided and everything around Joffrey went blank.

There was no more shadows, nor sounds, and an incredible pain started behind his ears and snaked all the way down his spine and to his forehead, before spreading to the rest of his body. He’d scream if he could, and then suddenly, he was standing in a corridor. Voices came from a room down the hall, a boy and a girl, both about the same age as himself.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying. The curiosity got the better of him, leading him towards the room. When he entered the room, he knew that what he’d heard wasn’t a mere conversation. He found a boy and a girl, both striped naked, fucking like rabbits.

There was something about their hair and voices, which seem very familiar. In a mix of curiosity and fright, he moved closer and closer to the couple. The girl raised her head, and when the blond hair fell from her face, he felt like he was about to explode. The boy finished and pulled out of the girl Joffrey recognized as his mother, and pulled her giggling face to him. Uncle Jaime… The little king thought. Mother..

“No.” He whispered under his breath,

“NO!” He screamed at them, but they didn’t pay him attention, it was as they couldn’t see nor hear them. He yelled at them to stop, as the two of them kept on fooling around, and then, everything around him vanished.

A couple of seconds later he found himself in his mother’s chambers, and once again he heard the voices of his mother and uncle. He didn’t wanted to go near them, however something forced him towards the bedroom, where he found his mother in her bed, with a small child in her arms, and his uncle lying on his stomach beside her, playing with the baby’s hands.

“He’s so tiny.” Jamie whispered, making Joffrey’s mother chuckle.

“Of course he is. They all are.” She spoke softly as she stroke the child’s cheek. “

He’s your son. Your first son.” She told Jaime and looked at him with her sparkling eyes.

"What are you going to call him?” He asked her in a tone as soft as hers.

“Joffrey.” The queen told her brother and looked down at the child again.

“I like that.” Jaime responded. Joffrey stood completely still, with his heart racing in his throat. And then it got black again.

When it went light again, he saw his mother and uncle together on a hillside. Then in the sept. At Casterly Rock. In Winterfell, and a dozen of other places. Joffrey didn’t see them have sex more than the first scene back when they were his own age, but from all the Gods had shown him, it was clear that Jaime was his father.

He had never been a Baratheon, he was nothing more than a carefully hidden bastard. A lie. Then, Joffrey found himself back in the dark room with The Seven. He was sitting on the floor, his heart pounding and brain racing, trying to understand everything.

“Now little Lannister, do you know who your father is now?” The Maid giggled happily.

“He’s no Lannister, he’s either a Hill or a Waters, depends on how you look at him.” The Smith pointed out, as Joffrey stood flushing bright red in the darkness. A bastard, he thought coldly to himself, the outcome of incest.

“What to do with him now, Father?” The Mother asked softly.

“The Stranger are to take him. Where to is none of my concern.” The Father decided, and then all the shadows but one disappeared.

“Don’t be frightened, little king, I am not the one who does anyone any harm.” The cool, snakelike voice told him, as the shadow got closer and closer. Joffrey wanted to stand up and flee, but he couldn’t.

The Stranger reached down, and took the young boy’s hand, before pulling him to his feet, lightly dragging the frightened and hurt boy with him into the unknown.

[imagineandfics]

No Master Starts At The Top -Robb Stark Imagine

WARNING: this  fic contains spoilers for Game of  Thrones season 3/4 and the third book in George RR Martin's A Song Of Ice And Fire series.

Also, it contains death, just like anything that has to do with GoT.

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"Now, I have no problem with you or my mother or people fighting with their left hands, but do you honestly want me to believe that you can actually train my left arm so I can use it for sword fighting? That’s insane!"

He argued for the millionth time. I rolled my eyes, and my shoulders sank more than they have ever sine before.

“My Lord, everyone can learn how to-”

“How to what? Fight? You are a -woman-! What do you know of -fighting-?”

“Robb!” Catelyn yelled from her chair, where she was doing some needlework. She stood up and walked towards us.

“The head of the Mormonts are women too, do you think they know nothing of fighting?” The Lord blushed lightly and his eyes got uncertain under his mother’s gaze. She turned to me, and gave me a soft smile.

“Now Y/n, please continue.” I nodded and she returned to her seat.

“Now Sire, take up your sword.”

“This is not a-” “Sire.” I interrupted, not even feeling slightly sorry or ashamed. He gave me a puzzled look, and I swear something that looked like humor twinkled in his eyes. He took up the wooden practice sword, and charged at me. I didn’t blink before I’d knocked the sword out of his hand.

“You see what I am talking about?” He asked and gave me an annoyed look. I walked over, grabbed the sword and placed a gentle hand on his left arm.

“I’m here to teach you. No master start at the top.” I told him and lightly opened his fingers and replaced the sword in his hand.

“Lady Stark?” I said and turned to face her. She looked at me in a curious way, awaiting what I was about to say.

“Could you leave us? I think it’ll help His Grace to focus more easily on the task at hand.” She smiled at me and took her leave. When we were alone, I turned back to the Stark and took a firm grab of his elbow, he started complaining, but shut up as I have him a cold look.

“You remember your lessons as a boy, I presume.” I said and moved his arm around in movements.

“Some of it, yes.” “Good,” I said,“I want you to remember how much you worked to get where you were when you bruised your arm.”

“Bruised? That’s a nice way to put it.” He chuckled and looked me up and down. I smiled at him and pinched his elbow lightly, but hard enough to pull his arm to him.

“You have never trained this arm before, it doesn’t know how to move, and even if it did, it wouldn’t have the strength.” I told him gently.

“Are you saying that I’m weak?” He asked, blinking a couple of times.

“No,” I giggled. “I’m saying you need practice.” I turned around, walked a couple of steps, before turning to face him and charge. He put up a very clumsy fight for a couple of seconds, before dropping the play sword. He was angry at himself, and it took me a long time to convince him to take up the sword again. We continued practicing like this for weeks, and as time proceeded, Robb became better and better, until he was just as good as any knight fighting with his or her right hand.

As I watched him succeed in his first battle after the accident, I couldn't have been any prouder. I continued being at his side, kept on teaching him, supporting him and keeping his moral high even after failing.

Even through he was promised to a Frey Whore, something grew between Robb and I. I was not only his best friend and companion in battle, I slowly became his lover as well. Of course, most people didn't pay attention to what was going on between us, seeing as I was just a fighter, protecting the remaining Starks, but as time got on and we got engaged, later on married, the shocking news of The King Of The North and His Little Slut reached every corner of the kingdoms.

We knew it would have consequences, but neither of us realized how big those would be. As we entered the Twins, and was welcomed by Walter Frey, I knew something was going on, but I didn't wanted to put my dear mother in law into more distress. And as the time for the wedding feast came around, I went into more alarm, which Robb detected quick enough, but when he turned to his counsel to discuss my worry, they all shut it down and continued as nothing had happened. If only they knew what was going to happen next, Gods they must have felt so stupid when the fire turned against them.

As the fighting started, I did everything I had in my power to save Robb and Catelyn, but it wasn't enough. As Catelyn grabbed Frey's son and wanted to trade a son for a son, I crawled my way over to Robb, who were now on the floor with more cuts and arrows in him than any man I'd seen before.

He reached out for me, and with a body shaking more than a man who'd just got pulled out from an ice pool, I lifted him up so his head were on my legs. I heard Catelyn's begging and violent cries, as I gently touched and kissed Robb's face.

"I should have listened to you, Y/n. Just like I've always done." He said with a shaking voice. I knew he was right and if it wasn't because of the situation, I'd said that I'd told him so and he should pay attention to the signs and people around him just like I always do, but I couldn't, instead I let out a sob, unable to speak or think.

Frey yelled out an order and I looked up just in time to see an arrow leaving a crossbow, flying towards Robb. I jumped forth, covering Robb thereby getting hit myself. The arrow had entered my back and the head peaked out from my collarbone. I cried out as the arrow hit me and Catelyn look at us with tearing eyes as she continued begging, all for nothing.

Another arrow got fired, then one more, one more, one more. They all hit me, but then they started firing from more than one place and they hit Robb too. I yelled out at them, cursing them as a faint, whining sound escaped Robb, but they didn't stop.

One of them hit him.

In the head.

And just like that the fire that had always burned in his eyes died out.

I screamed, and so did Catelyn. I looked up just in time to see her cut the boy's throat, and then she just stood there. Crying and screaming until someone cut her throat. I took my knife and cut the arrow in Robb's head, and started pulling it out. When the arrow was out, I started cleaning his face with my sleeves.

Every breath I took hurt, and I couldn't stop shaking. And yet my eyes were dry.

I felt someone pull my hair, forcing my head upwards, so I was facing Walter Frey, that disgusting bastard.

"What are we going to do with the whore, sire?" The Whore I thought for myself bitterly. I looked him in the eye, and felt the sick creep up my throat. I felt something grow and burn inside me, and I realized that I couldn't let him see how scared or disgusted i was... So I started smirking and nearly started laughing as his smile died on his lips.

"Throw her in the dungeon," he said coldly, his eyes looking like he was trying to unlock me.

"We can always have some fun with her later." He man behind me forced me to my feet, and pulled me away from the room filled with all the bodies of people who'd become close friends, companions and some even family.

I didn't cry once, I just kept looking forward, clinging to my knife, still wondering how the hell no one had noticed it yet. I waited for the right moment, before I spun around, charged, hit and killed the man escorting me.

I used my training and skills to get out of the Twins and into a wood, which I wandered around in for days, before met a group of men, dedicated to the late King Robert and "The Red Lord" or God or whatever they had called them. Either way, the took me in, gave me food and tended my wounds, and in repay I told them my story.

They all listened, and before I'd finished, they declared me The Queen Of The North, which I declined, seeing as what and who had made me somewhat royal were dead. But before I'd finished off my explanations, a cloaked figure from the corner of the room stood up and walked over to us, making some weird noises I couldn't recognize as words.

The figure stopped just in front of me, and the removes the hood, revealed herself to be Catelyn. I was shocked at first, but as they told the story, I understood and thanked what ever Gods up there for at least giving me one person.

So here I was, sitting in a cave somewhere in a forest, with my mother in law and a gang of men, sworn to revenge the Starks and True King.

As weeks went by, I started changing, and after a midwife from a nearby village had examined me, it was official: The King Of The North wasn't slain yet.

[imagineandfics]

That ben cook fic set in bbc made me cry a bit (not actually but the feeling was there lol)

it's the good kind of crying, right? *sweats nervously*

please tell me it wasn't so bad that it made you cry!

[imagineandfics]

"Promise To Clean" -Ben Cook Imagine

It’s hard, it truly is, never let anyone make you think otherwise, cause it is so freaking hard!

Following your dreams is the hardest fucking thing you can ever do, and I honestly don’t know which is the hardest: learning that you can never archive your dream, or that you actually can archive it.

I’m the second option, the person who “achieved” their dreams. Last January I got an e-mail from the  BBC, telling me that they’d decided to accept my application and make me an intern in London.

It was awesome, and scary and far away and exciting all at once.

You see, I don’t come from England, my first language isn’t even English!

So moving to London was a massive step for me, especially seeing as I was going on my own, not quite sure of what to expect.

When I moved to London in March, I was so scared, luckily my internship took up almost all of my time, so there was no fear of me feeling lonely or lost in the largest city I’ve ever been in.

But then in September, halfway through my internship, one of the producers of an upcoming show, asked me if I was interested in letting go of my internship, for a full time job as a writer for the show. I didn’t even hesitate or talk to my parents or anyone about it, I just said yes.

So here I am, at my first day at work, and I’m scared to death.

Yes, I’ve been working here for a couple of months, but as an intern, there’s a massive difference between that, and actually working here.

I was running through the building, which suddenly had become this giant, complicated maze. I looked down at the sheet I had, containing all the information about where to meet, and wasn’t looking at where I was walking, when I felt myself walk into something with a semi high speed, making me fall to the ground.

I looked up at whatever I walked into and met an apologizing smile and some lovely dark eyes.

“I’m sorry.” We said at the same time, making us both chuckle lightly. He reached down and helped me back on my feet.

“Thanks.” I said, and ran a hand through my hair.

“It was the least I could do, seeing as I ran into you like that.”

I nodded and we went silent for a moment, before his hand reached out again. “Ben.” He said in his nice and normal London accent.

“Y/n.” I responded in my broken accent as I firmly shook his hand.

“Do you know how to get to this place?” I asked and showed him the paper. He smiled at me and nodded.

“Apparently we’re going to work together.” He told me, and started walking again, he’d gotten a few meters before he stopped and looked back at me with a smirk.

“Are you coming or what?”

“Yes, sorry!” I said and rushed to his side.

we walked for a while, before stopping outside a grey door.

We entered the room to find five other people, all sitting with their own phones or computers or both. Ben smiled at me before pulling out a chair, and gesturing to me to take the chair beside his.

We waited a couple of minutes, before two men walked in, with their laptops held tightly to their chests.

"Goodmorning, you wondeful, talented people!" the youngest-looking of the two said with a wide smile and put his laptop in front of him.

"As you know I’m Charles, and this is Tom, and we are the head producers on this new show. All of you have been carefully selected, and quite frankly, you are the dream team. We have writers, costume designers, casters, editing gods and other great people here, and Tom and I cant wait to work with all of you!” I couldn’t help but smile at his excitement, and I gazed at Ben out of the corner of my eye, who were smiling just as widely.

"Now. I think Charles has finished with allz of  his praising, so lets get to work." the other, Tom, said in a serious manner, but with a wide smile and twinkling eyes.

"This show is all of our ticktes to becoming something more than minor names on a production team, therefore we expect all of you to work hard and merrily to make this work out as hoped." there was a few faded "of course"-s and "yes"-s from the group, along with nodding heads and wide smiles.

"Now, lets  start this production meeting for real, and make BBC’s next big hit happen." Charles bursted out and connected his laptop to a projector, showing us all the main plots, characters and ideas the two of them had come up with until now, and then the fun began.

We worked hard for weeks, almost wihtout breaks, and no more than a few hours of rest, before we’d meet up again, reading whatever ideas, imputs or manuscripts we’d written.

In these weeks, my friendship with Benjamin Cook, the guy who bumped into me on the first day, grew, and I ended up using more time at his flat than my own.

We were sitting in his living room one afternoon, me writing the manuscript for a protentional episode of the show, and Ben trying to piece together the around thirteen manuscripts the team had produced so far, when he suddenly closed his laptop and looked at me.

"Y/n?"

"Yes Ben?"

"Would you like to move in? I have an extra room and you spend most of your time here."

I closed my laptop and gave him a smile. "On one condition," I smirked.

"What?" he asked curiously and put his laptop away.

"You have to become a bit better at cleaning the flat."

He looked at me before laughing.

"Like look around," i said, "Is that the same t-shirt that laid there last week?"

"Ok, ok, I'll clean the flat once a week, promise." he chuckled.

"Ok, deal." I laughed and shook his hand before we went back to work.