#I didn’t proof read so sorry if there’s grammatical or spelling errors

[peachhcs]

The 5 times Neteyam loved you and the 1 time he said it.

Neteyam x fem!reader

Word count: 15.6k 😳

Summary: pretty self explanatory I think, but the 5 times Neteyam loved you and the 1 time he finally said it 😌

Warnings: near character death, talk of absent parents, gun & knife violence, blood

ITS FINALLY HERE!! THE LONG AWAITED 15k+ fic I took like a week to write 😭 This is cliche but I haven’t seen anyone else do this prompt before. I listened to the people and put this into one large fic, so I hope y’all like it!! The ending is..a little rocky, but it’s what you get after forcing myself to finish this. There is a prologue in this & I wasn’t originally going to include it, but I liked it too much to delete it from the story LOL

If you guys want a Lo’ak version, I have one in the drafts, but idk if that is something y’all want. My requests for fic ideas are open, so send some in if y’all want! Thanks for all the love!! (ps, not quite proof read so if there’s some spelling or grammatical errors my apologies)

MASTERLIST

PROLOGUE.

It was no doubt that you were an extreme pleaser. Growing up as the eldest sibling to your parent’s five, it was your job to stay in line. Set the example. Follow the rules. Be the golden child. It was the whole reason why you and Neteyam bonded so quickly when you met.

He knew how it felt to be the perfect one. You both carried the same burden, the same pressure, the same expectations set by your parents. All you wanted was to please them and get the praise you desperately craved.

You saw Neteyam for a few weeks now. It started one day in the woods when you were out exploring. Foana and Ni`awtu insisted going out into the forest. You knew being the eldest that you couldn’t possibly leave them to their own devices, so you reluctantly followed after them.

That same afternoon, the Sully kids decided embarking on their own expedition. The clan was so large and spread out in nearly every part of the forest that you hardly knew every single person. You knew of the Sully children and their great father Jake, the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, however you did not know them.

Everything changed for you and your siblings that afternoon when Foana wandered off. You had no idea that a certain Sully boy would change the entire trajectory of your life that day.

You were distracted with admiring the beautiful flora that you didn’t even realize your younger sister disappeared. A tiny tug on your tail made you spin around, hissing at Ni`awtu standing shyly behind you.

“Ni, what do you want?” You answered annoyed that she interrupted your gazing. Seeing her little worried features made you scrap any annoyance you ever possessed in the first place.

“It is Foana. I do not know where she went.” The fear laced through the young girl’s voice. Your eyes shot up, now realizing that the youngest sibling was no longer around the two of you.

To make matters even worse, you only brought your knife with you expecting a quick and short trip.

“Ni`awtu, you were supposed to be watching her at all times. Argh.” You pushed past her, beginning to sniff out any possible trails Foana may wandered off on.

“I am sorry, sister. I swear, I thought she was right behind me.” The familiar wobble of Ni’s voice and her trembling hands told you she was close to tears. Sighing, you collected her into your arms.

“Do not worry, it is not your fault. We will find her.” Being the eldest meant you could not be mad at your little siblings for long. You also could not let them take the blame for things—even if it was their fault at times. That was just what came with growing up as the eldest. You took nearly all the blame.

The two of you walked the tree lines, scanning every possible inch for that little rascal. She hardly knew the forest like you, so she couldn’t have been too far. If anything, she was probably cowering underneath a leaf or behind a tree because she did not know where she was anymore.

Your ears perked up when you heard voices ahead. In a quick maneuver, you shoved your sister behind you incase it was a threat. Not many from your clan ventured this far out into the forest by the old shack. It was forbidden by the Olo’eyktan—so whoever was ahead couldn’t possibly be Na’vi.

There was a tiny laugh, though. It caught you off guard and your defenses fell for just a moment. There came another laugh, louder and one you recognized this time.

“Foana.” You muttered and ran ahead through the brush.

When you came through clearing, you grew surprised seeing your little sister playing around with another younger Na’vi girl.

“Y/N, look! I made a friend!” Little Foana sensed your presence and motioned towards the other little girl. She smiled up at you with a toothy grin.

“Foana, what in Eywa are you doing all the way out here? You do not wander away from me or your sister.” Your mom voice came out, loud and booming. The little one looked down in shame realizing she was in trouble.

“I am sorry, sister. I did not mean to. I just..I saw a flying lizard and had to follow it. I found her on the way.” She stuck out a thumb at other girl. Another sigh escaped your lips knowing she must’ve also strayed off her path and probably had people looking for her as well.

“Tuk! There you are! Why did you wander off?” A new voice entered the scene. She raced past you, scooping up the girl in her arms.

“Sorry, Kiri. I found a friend, though.” Tuk pointed at your sister who gave a similar toothy grin and a wave.

“It is okay, sister. Just make sure you tell someone next time, okay? Neteyam, I found her, it is okay.” You didn’t realized there was entire group behind you now. Two boys, no three boys, stood behind you. Two Na’vi and the singular human boy you knew lived around here.

“Tuk, I told you to keep up with us.” The shorter Na’vi boy went past you to ruffle up her little braids.

You hadn’t moved a single muscle since their sudden arrival. You were too awestruck in the way they comforted the girl. Neither of them showed any signs of anger or annoyance that she wandered off. It was so unfamiliar to you—all of that sincerity and comfort to one another.

“Oh, please excuse us. I am so sorry. I am Kiri. This is Tuk, Lo’ak, Neteyam, and Spider behind you.” The girl that came in first finally acknowledged your presence with a warm smile as she introduced what must’ve been her siblings.

“Oh, no need for apologies. I am Y/N. This is Ni`awtu and Foana.” You did a bow of greeting which your sisters quickly followed after.

“It seems as though our sisters have befriended one another. We were so worried when we realized she had wandered off.” Kiri laughed and pinched Tuk’s little nose. You smiled at the affection.

“Yes, us too. I was glad I found them both unharmed.” You pulled your sisters closer, trying to show a tiny bit of affection like the other siblings displayed.

“Let’s just be glad we didn’t need to call dad in. He would have beaten our asses if we told him we lost Tuk.” Lo’ak laughed and then his older brother smacked him on the head. The unfamiliar terms and use of some English words intrigued you. Not many Na’vi knew English besides the Olo’eyktan—obviously being from the sky.

You began putting two and two together. The five fingers of Lo’ak and Kiri. Lo’ak’s use of English phrases you didn’t quite understand. These were the Sully children. The Olo’eyktan’s kids.

“Oh my Eywa, I am sorry. You are children of the Olo’eyktan. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You rushed out, flushed you had not picked up on it beforehand. You bowed again, urging your sisters to do the same.

“Woah, we’ve never been greeted like that before.” Lo’ak snickered and the older boy hit his head again.

“Lo’ak, stop it. Do not apologize. We are Omatikaya as much as you are. It is really our father who gets bowed to.” The older one spoke to you in a kind tone that had your face heating up in a way it had never done before.

“Well, it is still a great pleasure to meet all of you.” He grinned at you. There was something igniting inside of you just looking at his smile. Something you had never felt before.

“Can Foana and I have a playdate sometime?” Tuk spoke to you, her little voice adorable as ever. However, you were unfamiliar with the term she used.

“Playdate means like a hang out.” Kiri must’ve seen your confusion. You quickly nodded.

“Of course, anytime as long as neither of you wander off again.” You joked some, smiling down at your little sister. She grinned excitedly.

“Perfect, you may bring her over anytime or we can bring Tuk over. She has been so excited to start making new friends ever since our parents allowed her to go out more.” Kiri was so soft spoken and so gentle. Her presence alone just made you feel so warm and welcomed.

“You could bring your other siblings, too. You have two others, right?” Lo’ak spoke up more. You quickly nodded, a bit surprised he even knew that. It wasn’t like your family was well known like they were.

“Tsanten and Naria.” You did not miss the way Lo’ak’s face blushed at the mention of Naria.

“Well, bring them all and even yourself, we love the company.” Kiri beamed and you couldn’t help but smile yourself.

You hardly received invitations out often. You were always busy taking care of your siblings, cleaning up, staying in, following your parents’ orders. It didn’t leave much room for fun and going out.

Neteyam was still glancing in your direction. He just couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from your pretty hair flowing loosely down your back, or the way your eyes lit up when Kiri extended the invitation to you and the rest of your siblings.

He knew of your family through passing here and there. You were the eldest, just like him, yet he never saw you out much. Either you were hidden away in your tent, or out hunting. He knew you were a hunter because Beyral spoke of your name often.

You intrigued him. He liked the way the confusion floated over your face when Lo’ak or Tuk used phrases you didn’t understand. He liked the protective nature you held over every single one of your siblings—similar to him. How you held them close to you. He wanted to know more about you. He wanted to make you smile again because it sent an unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in his stomach that he enjoyed.

He wanted more of you. If only the two of you knew what your future held.

ONE.

Neteyam was protective over everything in his life—his parents, his siblings, and now you. Being the eldest, especially to the Olo’eyktan, it was his job becoming the protector when his father wasn’t there.

He fought off anyone who poked fun at Lo’ak or Kiri for having five fingers. He made sure someone was with Tuk at all times when she went out to the forest. He helped his mother anytime she asked whether it was with food or his siblings.

There was no denying how similar the two of you were. It was what drew him to you. You held the same protective nature as him. You took care of your siblings the same way he did. You understood the burdens he carried because you held them high on your shoulders as well.

It was when the two of you were together that he could let go of everything, even if it was just for a little bit. When the day was done and everyone was sound asleep for the night, tucked safely into their tents was when the two of you snuck out to spend time together.

It was more of a private relationship for the time being. Being the next Olo’eyktan in line, Neteyam knew that if he told people he was seeing someone it would spread like wildfire across the village. People would start talking and they probably wouldn’t ever leave you alone once the word was out. He wasn’t sure if you wanted that on top of everything else and if he was being honest, he wanted you to himself just a little while longer.

His feet worked quickly jumping from tree branch to tree branch. The luminescent forest was his guiding light through the night and he took one final swing to his destination. When he got his footing, there you were right where you met almost every night.

Your back was slumped against the tree and you hadn’t noticed him yet, instead, your gaze was focused on the glimmering stars above. Every time, Neteyam was so in awe of you. He knew how stressed you were throughout the day having to do this and that, so seeing you here waiting for him in the most relaxed state gave him a sense of pride.

“Oh, hi.” You finally noticed his looming presence. The boy grinned, walking towards you.

“Hi, sorry I am late. I had to make sure Tuk was truly asleep for the night.” The sound of your laugh made his heart swell in his chest. He snuggled himself in beside you with his head resting on your stomach.

When you put your hands across his back, all of his muscles finally relaxed. The stress slowly dissipated and everything felt right being in your arms. During the day, he was a leader who held no fear. At night when he was with you like this, none of that mattered. He didn’t have to put on the facade for you.

“She never falls asleep on time. I think she is afraid she will miss out on something. Foana is the same way.” He hummed when he felt your other hand begin brushing through his braids.

“That explains why she is always following Lo’ak and Kiri around.” Your stomach rumbled with laughter again and the vibrations were so calming to Neteyam. If he could, he would have your laugh on repeat.

“Your training, how did that go today?” Another thing Neteyam adored about you was how you never failed to ask him about his day. Any detail he told you, you remembered and talked about it the next night. He had never been listened to like that before. It made everything inside of him feel warm and appreciated like he had a purpose.

“It was okay. I think dad is getting mad at me because I can not seem to understand things as fast as he wants me to.” Neteyam sat himself up so he could look at you properly. His back fell against the tree in the same way yours did, still keeping your bodies close.

“You will get it, do not worry. It takes time learning all the ways of the Olo’eyktan. Your father probably struggled as much as you did once.” You clutched his bicep to give it a comforting squeeze. Neteyam’s gaze fell away to the sky, though. His mind beginning to turn elsewhere.

“Yes, but he was already strong when he fell into the position. He was an adult already. I am merely a teenager still.” He heard you scoff beside him.

“You are just as strong, Neteyam. Do not tell yourself you are not. You are learning and your father just wants what is best for you.” You always knew what to say to him to make him feel better. His gaze finally fell back to you, your gentle gaze making his face blush.

“I think my parents are catching up to the fact that I may be seeing someone.” You giggled, looking away as you changed subjects. Neteyam, however, stiffened up at your words.

“What do you say?”

“Well, I just laugh it off and say I am not. They do not ask much more after that.” He could not read your expression because you weren’t looking at him. He didn’t know if you were upset you had to deny it or something entirely different.

He certainly wished he didn’t have to be so private about his personal life, but he was afraid his mother wound disapprove—not that there was anything to disapprove of you. It was mostly the others in the clan. People would start talking. They would start seeking you out. You would have to start learning the ways of Tsahik, maybe (Hopefully in his mind). He wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable to be put into such a spotlight like he was before anything was really said about the two of you.

“Neteyam? Are you alright?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts. You were already looking at him when he met your pretty golden eyes.

“Yes, sorry. I was lost in thought.” He gave you a gentle smile to reassure you.

“About what?” You loved to pick his brain though. His expression twisted and he found the need to place his arm around you and pull you closer towards him. Your head fell absently against his chest.

“It is not important.” He had this thing where he would sometimes hide his emotions from you. He did not want to burden you with this one right now.

“I feel like it is, though. I will not make you tell me, but you can if you want to.” Another feature he absolutely adored about you. You never pried, but made it known that he could tell you anything. He squeezed you a tiny bit closer as if there was anymore space left between you two.

“Are-are you..upset that our relationship is not..for the entire clan to know?” He blurted and then avoided your gaze so he wouldn’t see your expression.

“No, not necessarily. I like the privacy.” You answered honestly, but Neteyam wasn’t sure if he believed it yet or not.

“Are you lying?” You sat up more to look at him. He was gnawing at his lip, worried that you were lying.

If he could give you the world, he would. He wanted to give you everything. He wanted to show you off and take you on dates that weren’t in the dark. He wanted to hold your hand and kiss you in front of people so they knew you were his. However, he could not do any of that in fear that someone would be mean to you or say rude things. The entire clan was kind, but there were few who said things when they did not approve. Neteyam only knew because he heard the things people said about his father when he became Olo’eyktan.

He is demon blood. How would he know how to lead a clan?

Can we really trust him with our people?

What does she see in him?

Those children, they are demon blood. Five fingers.

They are not true Na’vi.

He could only imagine the things they could say when he announced his possible chosen woman. He wanted to keep you out of that. He wanted to protect you from it as much as he could.

“No, I am not lying. Why would I lie?” You gave a small chuckle; however, Neteyam was still not eased.

“Right, sorry. You would not lie about that.” He looked down, embarrassed he even thought you would lie to him. A gentle hand cupped his face and directed his attention back to you.

“What is going on in that head of yours? Tell me, it seems to be bothering you.” You observed his entire face and Neteyam was flushing under your intense stare.

He took your hands in his, squeezing gently and blowing out a long breath.

“I want to give you the world, but I can not. I only do not tell people about our relationship because I am afraid they will say things we do not like. I do not want them to hurt you and say things like they do about my father and mother. That is the only reason I have kept us from them. Not because I am embarrassed or anything of you.” Neteyam spilled his entire heart to you right then and there. He watched your face for a reaction and subconsciously prepared for a negative one.

Instead, you just grinned and stroked his hand with your thumb.

“I did not think you were embarrassed of me. I know you have a lot on your mind all the time. You do not need to explain yourself to me. I do not mind keeping our relationship private.” Your head tilted to the side, still grinning.

“I just want to make sure you are completely ready to have every eye on our relationship when and if we tell people. It is a lot of pressure and people will be talking. I do not want to just push you into that if you are not ready.” Neteyam continued.

“I am ready whenever you are ready. You worry too much about me.” You laughed and Neteyam’s head fell against your chest. You cradled the back of his head with a smile.

“So you are sure you are ready to handle it? You can tell me no.” He looked back up at you, scanning your face for any possible secret resentment you weren’t telling him.

“You forget I have thick skin. I grew up with parents who were perfecting my every move. If I can take them, I think I can handle being your girlfriend in public.”

It was then that Neteyam knew you were it for him. You held no fear in your eyes that he seemed to be harboring deep down in his depths. You were ready to be by his side under any circumstance.

He brought your face into his hands so he could pull you forward for a kiss. It was everything he could not say and everything he wanted you to know. The night was young and so were you two in that moment.

TWO.

Tonight was a big night as Neteyam ran around the hut like some mad person. He was shoving Tuk’s toys away, cleaning every single space, forcing his family to be on their best behavior—especially Lo’ak.

You were joining his family for dinner so they could properly meet you. Despite all of his siblings already knowing you, it was his parents who did not have much knowledge about you. It was mostly just name in passing, but one they never asked much about.

When Neteyam told his parents he was even seeing someone in the first place, their reactions were pretty priceless.

“Hey, mom, dad?” The eldest Sully walked into their hut while his parents worked away at their own separate projects. They turned his way at the sound of his voice.

“Yes, what it is ma son?” Neytiri questioned. The boy was flushed and picking at his fingers, unsure of how to even approach the subject.

It wasn’t that his parents were against him dating around, but he had never shown much interest beforehand, so he wasn’t sure how they were going to react now.

“I..I um-well, you see, I met this girl a few weeks ago. She is very kind, strong, intelligent, a hunter. I-I would like you to meet her one night over a dinner, maybe?” He carefully watched for their reactions.

His mother, wide-eyed, looked over at her husband. They exchanged a few glances, probably speaking with their eyes, but Neteyam had no idea what they were silently saying. He worried it was bad things.

“Oh! Yes, yes, of course. We would love to meet this girl. Who is she? Is she Omatikaya? Does she live around here?” His mother stood, embracing him while asking the hundred questions she had. His father sat back with a tiny, proud smile on his lips.

“Her name is Y/n. She is just a few huts down. She is a great hunter and warrior. Beyral speaks of her sometimes.” Neteyam explained your background as best as he could. Both of his parents were beaming widely.

“Yes, I have heard that name a few times before. She sounds wonderful, I am so excited to meet her. I had no idea you were seeing someone.” Neytiri was the most enthusiastic for her eldest. He had nearly reached all of his requirements that would make him one of the People and it was only a matter of time before he would begin looking for a future mate.

Tuk went on all day about her excitement that you would be joining them tonight. Neytiri worked all day preparing a great meal with the help of Kiri.

“Bro, I can’t believe you never told us about dating around with Y/n.” Lo’ak snickered as he helped with some of the cleaning. He earned a slap on his head for that comment.

“Well, it was not much of your business, was it?” Neteyam retorted and the younger brother only shrugged.

“I knew you were sneaking out late at night. I could just never have proof.” Another snicker and another slap. Lo’ak finally let up on his annoying teasing.

“Tuk!!” A little scream broke the boys from their conversation. Nearly everyone in the hut looked over to see a little Na’vi girl run in. Tuk was smiling widely, bringing her friend in for a hug.

“Foana! What did I say?—“ Suddenly, you appeared, grabbing at your youngest sister. Neteyam noticed your other three siblings just behind you. You met his eyes before darting them over to his parents who were glancing your way. Your entire face flushed.

“I am so sorry. Foana begged me to bring her to say hello to Tuk and then..well, I could not leave everyone else out.” You quickly explained yourself in small embarrassment. Neteyam rushed to greet you.

“Tsanten, Naria, what’s up?” Lo’ak happily got up to greet your other siblings. Ni`awtu stood shyly behind your back.

“I am so sorry for them.” You whispered to Neteyam when he was close enough. He only grinned.

“Do not apologize.” He kissed your cheek and then stepped aside for his mother who approached.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Y/n. I have heard many things.” Neteyam watched the exchange, still a tiny bit nervous for his parents approval of you. You smiled, nerves also evident behind your eyes.

“It is so nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Sully. I have heard so many things about you.” You bowed your head using the I see you gesture.

“Please, call me Neytiri. It is so nice to meet all of your siblings, as well.” She grinned again at the other little kids talking with her own children.

“Oh, thank you. They will not be staying, they just begged me to bring them to say hello.” You rushed out, eyeing each one of them to make sure they were being well-behaved in the home of the Olo’eyktan.

“Oh please, we have so much food. They can stay.” Your eyes shot to Neteyam. He only gave you a small shrug, ultimately it being your decision. He figured it would be easier to get your siblings’ introductions out of the way now too.

“Oh, no, you do not have to do that.” You shook your head, but Neytiri was persistent.

“It is no trouble. I insist.” She gently touched your arm. Neteyam could tell you were not used to such hospitality. He also touched your arm and you glanced his way. He nodded, saying if his mother thought it was okay, then it was okay for them to stay.

If anything, it would hopefully keep Lo’ak out of trouble or saying things he shouldn’t if he had other people to talk to that he liked. That was Neteyam’s biggest concern of the night, really.

“Okay, thank you, really.” You thanked Neytiri by bowing your head once more. She grinned and then walked away.

Jake came next to greet you. Neteyam knew you were worrying about him more than anything. He was Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto after all and it was the most important to get his approval.

“Hello, Y/n. I am glad to finally meet you.” You bowed to him which he did the same back.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Neteyam watched as you urged your siblings to bow before his father as well. They listened to you, doing as told.

You held such power over the little ones, but not in a bad way. Neteyam wondered if they listened to you more than your own parents. You had told him many stories of you becoming the main parent for your siblings growing up. Your parents were very absent. They were always on hunting trips, so it often left you caring for them. The eldest Sully could tell it wore you down—slumped shoulders, tired eyes, callouses on each of your hands, cuts, and bruises.

“Please, please, come in. Make yourselves at home. Our hut is your hut.” Jake ushered all of you in further. You smiled at him, not quite understanding the phrase, but you knew it was a kind one by his tone and expression.

“Y/n! Y/n! Guess what I did this week?” Tuk grabbed at your arm. You smiled down at her and crouched to her eye level.

“What did the mighty Tuk do this week?” Neteyam smiled at the way you ruffled up her hair.

“I caught my very first fish!” The little girl jumped up and down in excitement.

“That is amazing, Tuk! I am so proud of you!” You squeezed her tightly.

“Tell her how big it was.” Neteyam encouraged. His little sister held out her arms wider than herself. Your eyes widened.

“No way. That is bigger than you!” She giggled in excitement.

“I know! Everyone was so excited for me.”

“I certainly hope they were. That is a great accomplishment little Tuk.” You stood and Neteyam beamed at you. He saw your face flush a bit.

“You know she adores you, right?” He reached up to push some of your hair away from your eyes. You were wearing it loose like usual and some of it was pinned back with little petals hooked into it.

You blushed again. Neteyam loved how he could always make you blush like that.

The night went on just the way Neteyam planned. His parents asked you and your siblings many questions which you all happily answered. Just by the smiles and exchanges, Neteyam knew his parents loved you already which relieved him. He was worried something would go wrong. Lo’ak even managed to keep his comments to a minimal and mostly because he didn’t want to look like some fool in front of Naria.

Later, after helping his mom clean up, Neteyam went looking for you. He stopped short when he saw you sitting with Tuk, Foana, and Ni`awtu. You were playing some game with some sticks with them. There was a large smile on your face as you laughed at what Tuk would say. Even your sister, Ni`awtu, was smiling despite how shy she came off as.

Neteyam felt a hand come around his back. His mother appeared next to him, also watching the scene unfold. The sun began to set and eclipse was near. The forest was illuminating around you four. It was the prettiest sight Neteyam had ever seen—you with his little sister playing her games she always made up.

“She is a wonderful woman, Neteyam.” He smiled, glancing his mother’s way for a moment.

“So you like her?”

“We love her. If you do decide one day, she will make a great mate.” A small wave of relief washed through the older boy. He was so glad his parents approved of you.

Now it was just a matter of telling the rest of the clan. He knew most of them would be as supportive as his parents, but there was always the handful that had something to say. Neteyam would do his best to protect you from those who would say things.

Although, for now he would just enjoy the scene in front of him. He wanted to keep the warm feeling bubbling up in his chest for as long as possible. You were utterly perfect in his eyes.

“Neteyam! Come join us!” Tuk had noticed his presence. His mother squeezed his arm before letting him go. You made room for him to join the circle. The two of you exchanged a glance, knowing exactly what the other was saying.

You were definitely a keeper.

THREE.

Neteyam knew you were an excellent fighter. You were the best in the age group every time you went for trainings. He was always so in awe anytime he watched you skillfully use your bow and arrow to hit the targets on the ground from above. Or, your stealth as you dodged in and out of the trees. He knew he could never be as great of a fighter as you were.

However, with that also came the fear he held every time you left to go on missions. This one in particular was an especially dangerous one. His father appointed you to the head and it even shocked Neteyam a bit when he was told to hang back on this one but you were going.

You sat on the ground between his legs as he worked separate little braids into your hair for you. The only time you ever wore braids was for these missions or when you went hunting.

Neteyam did not want you to know he was worrying and playing every single worse case scenario in his head, so he kept quiet as his fingers worked quickly through your hair. However, his leg was bouncing right beside your head and that was hard for you to keep ignoring.

“Neteyam, are you alright?” You placed your hand over his knee. He realized it was bouncing and quickly stopped.

“Yes, I am fine.” You twisted your head around, pausing his braiding for a moment. The look on your face told him you didn’t believe him.

“Liar. What is wrong? Tell me.” You urged and Neteyam knew he couldn’t keep being quiet anymore.

“I am just worried is all. It always happens when you leave for missions like these.” He admitted, forcing a smile so you didn’t see all of his worry. You frowned a bit.

“You know you have nothing to worry about. I am a warrior. I always have been. When have I not come back from one of these?” Your tone was more of a “duh” tone. It didn’t ease Neteyam’s fear though.

“You never know what can happen, though.” He quickly make his defense. Instead of meeting your eyes, he just continued to work away at your hair.

“I suppose I do not, but you trust me, right? You trust your father. He would not send me into something dangerous.” Of course, Neteyam trusted both of you. It was the Sky People he had no trust in. He had seen them fight and the way they always had the upper hand with their crazy machine guns.

“Of course, but I am even not going. Is that not saying something?” He made a face and you were unsure what to say.

Neteyam finished off the last of your braids. The ends jingled together with the beads he added in. They were some of his own and he smiled at the fact that you two were going to match.

He turned you around and dipped his fingers into the bowl of paint beside his leg. You stayed still as he traced it around your face. He thought how jealous Lo’ak would be that you got to wear the war paint he didn’t on missions.

The two of you were silent. The feeling in the air changed ever since you didn’t know how to respond to Neteyam’s last statement.

You stood to look at yourself in the mirror when your face was done. The blue and yellow streaks went down your cheeks and around your eyes.

“Here, do not forget these.” Neteyam stood with your riding visor. He gently reached up to hook it around your ears.

You never flew with a riding visor, but then Neteyam made you one because he was worried about the wind drying out your eyes. You had happily accepted his very thoughtful gift and ever since then, you never rode without it.

“I am a warrior. I will make it back.” He felt comfort in the way you squeezed his arm. Your gaze was on him with a reassuring expression.

“I know you will. I just worry about you.” He cupped your face into his hands, bringing you towards him more.

“I have been doing this my whole life. I have my transmitter, too, so you will be able to listen in.” You placed the collar just above your necklaces and then hooked the earpiece into your ear. Neteyam remembered how thrilled you were when Jake gifted it you.

“We’re off in five minutes, everyone. Be ready!” Jake spoke through your ear. You glanced towards the opening where others headed out to their ikrans.

Neteyam brought your forehead against his. He closed his eyes, breathing you in and savoring every single detail about you just in case.

“Good luck. Be safe.” You smiled at his Earth phrases and brushed your hand along his cheek.

“I will see you soon.” He brought you in for one more kiss. His lips worked a bit rough like it was the last kiss he would give you. He was worrying that much.

You were the one to pull away, knowing you had to be out there very soon. He leaned into your touch when you kissed his cheek and then hurried out of his grasp. Neteyam hurried outside of your hut to watch you take off.

His dad took the lead as he dove off the cliff first. You were quick to follow, disappearing from his view almost immediately. Others in the clan who stayed behind clapped for the war party. Neteyam’s worry was only piling higher in his stomach, already anxiously awaiting your return.

—

Hours felt like days in his mind as he paced around his own hut. Tuk was in the corner playing with her toys and Kiri eyed on her older brother as he paced.

“Brother, you need to stop worrying so much. You know she will make it back. Y/n is very strong.” Kiri tried reassuring the anxious boy in front of her.

“I know, I know. This mission was a dangerous one, though. Dad did not even let Lo’ak and I go, yet he had Y/n go?” The logic still didn’t make much sense in Neteyam’s head. He wasn’t trying to discredit your abilities, but if you were going, he should’ve at least came along too.

“You have to remember that Y/n has been a warrior her whole life. Even when she was a kid. She was out hunting when she could walk. This is in her nature. Your father knows that and he knows she is a very useful asset to this mission.” His mother piped in from the other side of the hut. He didn’t even known she was listening to the conversation.

“Yeah, what mom said. She’s been fighting like this her whole life. She knows how to handle herself.” Kiri added on.

“Yeah, plus, she doesn’t always need you at her side and call.” Lo’ak had piped in now and Neteyam glared at him. Since when did his whole family become involved in this conversation.

“I am just trying to protect her.” He said in defense to what his younger brother said. Lo’ak just shrugged.

“Ma son, I know it is scary to not know what is happening, but we need to trust the Great Mother and everyone on that mission. They know what they are doing.” Neytiri squeezed Neteyam’s arm for comfort. The boy sighed, but nodded.

As if on cue, people started shouting outside of their hut. In the distance, ikran calls filled their ears. Neteyam instantly knew what that meant—the war party was returning. Everyone in the hut ran outside to greet them and check for any major injuries if any.

Jake’s ikran landed roughly atop the rocky cliff. You flew in not a moment later. The crowds were thick around the edge and it was hard to truly see what was going on. Being as tall as he was, Neteyam still could not see that well past the others trying to get a closer look.

He did not know where you were. You must have gotten down from your ikran, because it’s back was empty and there was no sign of you. Neteyam tried to push through some of the crowd, but it wasn’t much use because no one wanted to move.

“I heard it was bad. Many people were injured.”

“I can not believe he let that little girl go on such a dangerous mission.”

“This was one of their toughest missions yet.”

The words floated around his head as he heard people muttering to one another. He tried not to picture the worst for you. You had made it back, he knew that, but were you severely injured? Neteyam’s heart was practically beating a hole in his chest trying to find you.

Finally, he caught sight of some familiar braids and war paint near the edge of the crowd. He recognized Tsanten and Ni`awtu at your side hugging you.

“Y/n!” He finally was able to break out of the group. He hurried to you, joining in on your siblings’ group hug. He felt the way you clutched the back of his head with one hand and the other held onto his arm with a firm grip.

“Are you okay? Are you injured?” Neteyam pulled back to back to examine your face for any injuries.

Despite the minor cuts and scrapes, nothing looked too alarming to his knowledge. You had a pretty large gnash on your back, but it wasn’t bleeding out profusely or anything.

“No, I am not injured. Just scraped up.” You gave him a tiny smile. He was glad he got to see that again as he cupped your face and placed a quick peck onto your lips.

“Come on, I am sure Mo’at has medicine for these cuts.” You let Neteyam lead you away from the crowds and back to the huts. He sat you down on the ground and then disappeared to find his grandmother.

When he returned he had a handful of herbs, creams, oils, and bandages in his arms. You giggled at the sight.

“I did not think you were much of a healer.” He dropped everything at your side and then kneeled down to your level.

“Well my grandmother is the Tsahik after all. I happen to know one or two things.” Neteyam argued, his lips dancing with a tiny smile.

He gently worked to take your visor off and then wiped away the war paint. He knew you didn’t like to talk about the missions right away, so he enjoyed the comfortable silence between you two instead.

Neteyam’s hands were gentle as he rubbed the special herbs against your skin. You would occasionally hiss when it hurt a little bit more and he would mumble something about how he was almost done and you were doing so well.

He certainly wasn’t a healer like his grandmother or Kiri who had a special hand at medicine, but it meant a lot to both of you when he would heal your wounds for youor, when you would heal his after a long hunting day.

“Many, many people got hurt today.” You spoke after some silence. Neteyam hummed behind you.

“It was that bad?”

“Their machines are just so powerful. We are no match with our bows and arrows sometimes. They had to have known we were coming because they attacked back at us so harshly.” You shook your head some and Neteyam knew there was vivid images replaying in your mind.

“It is so hard to understand why they want us dead. If they were just a bit kinder then maybe there could be more peace worked out.” You continued on with your little rant, frustration becoming set in your body language. Your shoulders fell tense under the Sully boy’s hands.

“You know how hard they have tried with us. Someone always gets hurt. I suppose after all the failed efforts they have no other choice but violence, unfortunately.” Neteyam knew all about the schools his mother once attended in her earlier years. It seemed like the Sky People tried making an effort, but nothing ever held permanently.

“I know, it is just so frustrating. Tsanten and Naria are growing to that age where they will be old enough to go out on their own. I worry for them and what those demons could do to them.” A scowl sat on your face. Neteyam turned you around, cupping your face in his hands.

“I know how terrifying it can be. I worry for my siblings everyday, but you are very strong and you will be able to teach them well.” You smiled, but it didn’t stay for long as you casted your gaze away from him.

“I just wish I was not the one to always do it. My parents pay no attention to them anymore. They are always away. It should not be my job to teach my siblings every single life skill they will ever need.” You pushed yourself up from the ground, leaving Neteyam’s grasp.

He watched you wander to the entryway where you stared at the people moving about outside. Many were still tending to those who were wounded more worse than you.

Neteyam wasn’t a complete open book, but when he was with you, he felt comfortable enough to share the things bothering him the most. You, on the other hand, had a more harder time opening up to him. He knew you trusted him, but he couldn’t pull everything from you. He knew you parents were strict and absent people, always being away, which is why you held so much responsibility and burden. However, he didn’t know much more than that. You always closed it off.

Hearing what you were saying now, though, it was more than what you would usually say. Neteyam got up to join you at the entryway.

“You are right, it should not be your job, but unfortunately it is. You do a great job at teaching them and raising them.” His hand fell against your back. You leaned a tiny bit closer to him while your gaze was on Foana and Tuk a few feet away.

“I worry that they think I am too hard on them, but I am really just trying to help them survive on their own.” In that moment, Neteyam realized something. His whole life, his parents taught him how to hunt, fish, make kills, but their biggest motto was “Sully’s stick together.”

While yes, he was learning things on his own, he was also learning that he wouldn’t have to be alone because his family would always have his back. You did not have that.

You were the one who would always have your siblings’ back, but they wouldn’t always necessarily have yours. You were teaching them to survive on their own, not to depend on one another like he was taught growing up. Independence was a key feature of your family dynamic. Dependence was the key feature of his family dynamic.

“You are not too hard on them. You are doing what you know and hoping they will learn it too. It is a great feature to know you will always be dependable for them. However, you can always depend on me if you ever needed something.” You met his gaze and Neteyam smiled warmly at you.

“Your words are too kind. Thank you, my love.” Neteyam’s ears perked up. He had never heard that nickname before from you. You giggled upon seeing his surprised reaction.

“No, thank you, pretty girl.” He engulfed his arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest. You chuckled and he knew you didn’t quite understand his nickname he gave you, but it didn’t matter.

He thought that maybe you going out on these missions weren’t so bad as long as he was the one to patch you up afterwards—and he always was going to be the one patching you up every. single. time.

FOUR.

Neteyam ventured out on a day-long hunting expedition with his father, brother, and even your own little brother. You remembered how excited Tsanten was when Jake approached him one night to ask if he wanted to tag along to get some pointers from the older guys.

It warmed your heart to see Neteyam’s family being so welcome to your own. Tsanten didn’t have your dad to take him out like this, so being able to finally go out was like a dream come true for him, especially with the Olo’eyktan.

You had a pretty slow day considering Neytiri decided to take Tuk, Kiri, and your other three sisters out for what she liked to call a “girls day.” She extended the invite to you, but you figured with everyone out of the hut was a great opportunity to get some cleaning done.

With a job that would usually take hours, it only took about two and you were done by noon. Toys were put away; the rug was cleaned; things were put back where they belonged—the entire hut looked spotless.

You ended up venturing over to the Sully residence to see if Neytiri and the girls returned yet. You thought it was empty approaching since it was practically silent until you saw Mo’at sitting near the back grinding some of her herbs together.

She caught your eye before you could walk away. You had never really spoken to the Tsahik before. Most times, you would send your siblings in if they had gotten hurt and waited outside for them. You knew she was a woman of few words despite being so highly respected within the clan.

You bowed to her.

“You must be Neteyam’s…oh what do they say..girlfriend?” The older woman cracked a tiny smile causing you to flush.

“I suppose so, yes. I apologize for interrupting you.” You nodded to her bowl of herbs. She waved you off though, beckoning you inside.

“I come here sometimes to get away when I want to be alone. There is always someone bursting into my hut needing fixing.” You smiled a bit, sitting down beside the older Na’vi.

“I understand. It is always nice to get away sometimes.” She smiled, glad you understood her.

You felt a bit strange being in Neteyam’s home without him there. Ever since the family dinner, you had only been over a handful of times, so being here alone with just his grandmother was definitely different. The usual organized chaos that filtered through his home was replaced with tranquility as the day grew shorter.

“You are a hunter and warrior correct?” Mo’at spoke up again. Flushing that she knew that about you, you nodded.

“Those are very useful skills to have as a Na’vi like you. I am impressed, especially with how much my grandson tells me about you.” She waved her finger around. You were sure that if Neteyam was here he would be embarrassed she had said that.

“Thank you, Mo’at. My parents grew up that way, so they raised me the same.” Your parents had always been die-hard warriors, so it was practically in all of your blood to become just like them one day.

“I do not see your parents around as often as I used to.” Who knew the Tsahik knew so much about your family. You scratched the back of your ear to find some excuse that didn’t sound horrible to tell her.

“They are always on hunting trips. They like to travel a lot.” Not a complete lie, but not exactly the entire truth.

“I see, I see. They always seemed to be very ambitious people.” You nodded. Yes, ambitious was certainly one way to describe them.

“It is mostly just my siblings and I around the hut. They like to take very long hunting trips.” Mo’at nodded once again.

“Yes, Neteyam says that you are the main caretaker of your siblings.” You flushed again. How much was Neteyam actually talking about you when you weren’t around? A lot, apparently.

“That task can be rather daunting, but he says you handle it very well. All of your siblings seem like very respectful people.” She continued before you could respond. You smiled. That compliment meant a lot coming from Tsahik of the village.

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.” She grinned at you while continuing to crush and grind away in her little bowl.

“Would you like to try?” She looked down at the bowl. You flushed realizing she was asking you to help grind up her herbs.

“Oh, sure.” She switched places with you and you began doing exactly what she had done. You crushed them down into tiny little bits and pieces.

“This could be your job one day.” Mo’at eyed you as she added in another handful. Your entire face deepened into a darker shade of blue.

“Oh..I do not know about that. Maybe?” You liked Neteyam a lot, but you two were teenagers still. His selection for a mate was still so far away and he would not become Olo’eyktan for quite some time.

“You like my grandson, no?” For a woman of few words, Mo’at seemed to have a lot to talk about with you.

“Yes, I do. He is a lovely young man.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you saw her grin from the corner of you eye.

“I do not know much about..what does Jakesully say..teenage love, but I know my grandson likes you a lot. He talks and talks about you so much. I know it can be scary stepping into that kind of love, but I usually do not steer wrong when I watch my children fall in love. I was not wrong about Jakesully and my daughter.” Hearing all of this coming from Tsahik meant so much to you. You held a lot of respect for the older Na’vi and now she was sitting beside you giving you advice about relationships like you were one of her own.

“Your hunting and warrior skills matched with your caretaking skills would make a wonderful Tsahik one day if that is what happens.” She squeezed your arm and everything in you felt so warm and comforted. No one had ever said things like that to you before and hearing it from Mo’at made it even more special.

“You are too kind. Thank you.” You flushed for the hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. Mo’at grinned once more.

“I know a kind soul when I see one. Eywa would not have brought you and Neteyam together if she was not wanting you two to be together in that way.” Obviously, Mo’at would know best when it came to Eywa. You smiled, glancing back down at the herbs.

Maybe one day this would be your fate.

—

Neteyam returned from his day-long hunting trip exhausted and ready to collapse into his hammock for a long nap. His mother was there to greet him with a kiss to the cheek and to his surprise, his grandmother was sitting inside eating her bowl of food.

“Hello, grandmother.” He bowed to her and she nodded back.

“Hello, my grandson. How was the trip?” Neteyam shrugged some, dropping his belongings to the ground for now. It was as best as it could be with Lo’ak being his usual self plus an added friend along for the ride.

“It was very informative. Father gave us great tips.” That part was not a lie. Jake always gave his sons great pointers for making their kills.

“That is great, I am very glad. I had a nice visit with your Y/n today.” Neteyam’s eyes widened a bit.

“You did? When?” He suddenly worried his grandmother told her embarrassing things about him or exposed how he would talk about her all the time.

“She stopped by here looking for you, I think, but I was here instead. I offered inside and we had a very nice chat. She is a wonderful young woman.” Neteyam couldn’t help but smile hearing that. You were amazing. He was glad to hear his grandmother liked her as much as he did.

“She would make a very wonderful Tsahik one day. She has nearly every skill necessary without even having much training for the position.” Mo’at eyed her grandson. Neteyam’s entire face flushed, but he also felt a sense of pride. You were great at nearly everything, he wasn’t surprised Mo’at thought that.

“Well, I hope one day it will happen. We are still young and—“

“Tsahik knows everything, son. It will happen.” Neteyam watched his grandmother beam at him widely. He flushed once more and then tried to hide the smirk forming on his lips by looking away.

In his head, he knew you were the one for him, but that was never definite. Hearing his grandmother basically confirm it was enough for him. You were it for him. Through and through.

FIVE.

You hadn’t snuck out during the night in awhile. Neteyam suggested it would be a nice way to get your minds off of things and just be with each other for a bit since your siblings were always interrupting or needing something.

Neteyam swung along the oh so familiar path to the tree he had taken so many times before. Eclipse had just begun and every time he was so amazed at how the forest lit up around him. It made Pandora that much more magical.

Like always, you had beaten him to the spot. Except this time, you weren’t alone. Your ikran was perched a few feet away and you had your riding visor on. Neteyam grew suspicious, but you only grinned at him.

“I thought we could go for a ride. We haven’t flown during Eclipse in so long.” You freckles were glowing and Neteyam could see the large smile on your face and your eagerness to fly.

“I did not bring any of my things and I only have my—“ You cut him off by revealing your hands that were hidden behind your back. You held his riding visor in your hands.

“I knew you would say that, so I planned ahead.” Neteyam could only smile at you. You always thought of everything.

“What if we get attacked or something?” Neteyam was still skeptical. He loved riding at Eclipse with you, but he felt under prepared if anything happened while you two were out.

“Nothing will happen, I promise. If it makes you feel any better, I have my bow. Come on, we have not ridden in so long.” You were tugging at his hand and he couldn’t resist your pleas. He took his visor from your hands and smiled.

“Okay, fine. Let’s do it.” He would do anything to be able to make you smile like you were right now. He called for his ikran while you hopped up on yours.

Once you two were both on, you exchanged a glance. There was a playful smirk on your lips as you pushed your visor down. Neteyam grew curious of the look.

“Last one to Ayram Alusing loses!” And then you were off before Neteyam could even process what you had said.

He quickly took off with you already five paces ahead of him. He had no idea how you gained so much speed already while he struggled to even pick up momentum. The wind blew against his face, making it burn some of his skin that was not protected. It was definitely not working in his favor tonight.

“You are losing, Neteyam!” He heard you call from ahead of him. He growled some and focused all of his energy into catching up to you.

He was finally able to catch up to your side. He smirked over at you.

“Who is losing now?” He teased and pushed ahead ignoring the harsh breeze as best as he could.

The two of you soared through the sky, the Hallelujah Mountains just ahead. Neteyam had the lead, but you were just on his tail, literally. If you reached out, you could probably touch the end of his ikran.

You had a competitive spirit, so there was no way you were letting yourself loose to Neteyam. From his peripheral, he saw you creeping up on him.

“You can not win everything, Y/n!” He called over to you, but there was something in your eye telling him you were definitely not losing this round.

He tried focusing through the bond to get his ikran to pull ahead as the first two mountains came up. However, you blew right past him like magic and crossed the imaginary finish like. Neteyam sighed in defeat as you pumped your arms up and down for another victory.

“I told you I would win. You do not win against me.” The eldest Sully still smiled nonetheless, enjoying seeing you so happy. He would lose a hundred times to you to be able to see you as happy and carefree as you were right now.

“My apologies, I should have known I had no chance.” Neteyam held his hands up in surrender. The little smirk continued to dance on your lips as you took off to keep flying around the mountains.

The boy stuck close to your side, the two of you smiling widely as you weaved in and around the large rock formations. You would occasionally dive over the larger branches hanging out to make it a game.

Neteyam felt like his parents where he knew they still snuck out at later hours of the night to do this. It was so thrilling, yet so relaxing at the same time. The breeze had finally died down and it no longer felt like bullets pelting his skin as he rode.

“You want to rest here? There is an open spot.” You pointed up ahead at a clearing in one of the mountain tops. Neteyam nodded and followed you to the landing.

You jumped off your ikran, taking in your surroundings. The entire area was glowing its bioluminescent glow. Each flora, leaf, tree moss, everything was shining bright acting as the light in the dark night.

“That was easily the best ride I have had in awhile. What about you?” You flipped your visor up and turned to Neteyam. In a swift move, he snaked his arms around your waist to bring you closer.

“That certainly was a great ride, but maybe next time you will lose the race here.” He grinned and earned an eye roll from you.

“In your dreams. You may be future Olo’eyktan, but you can never win against me.” You shook your head and Neteyam only chuckled.

“And you may be future Tsahik one day, so that competitive nature may need to die down a bit.” He smirked and your face flushed. You broke away from his grasp to look up at the blue-purple sky.

“Your grandmother speaks of the same thing.” You smiled, thinking about your time with Mo’at a few weeks ago.

“Is that what you two talked about that one day?” Neteyam questioned, always wondering what his grandmother could possibly be saying to you when he wasn’t around.

“She is a very kind lady. She knows what she is talking about.” You laughed some. Neteyam cringed knowing she definitely embarrassed him during that conversation.

“Did she say anything about me?” He had to ask even if he didn’t want to know.

“Oh, so many things. She loves you.” You found a comfortable spot against one of the trees to stargaze. Neteyam joined you.

“Anything embarrassing?” Your tiny giggle told him all he needed to know. He internally face palmed.

“If I told you, it would ruin the fun.” You grinned and Neteyam knew that Mo’at definitely embarrassed the shit out of him. Wonderful.

“Well, I am serious about your future Tsahik fate. Just think, you and I head of the clan one day. It would be perfect.” Neteyam threw his arm around you and you giggled at the image appearing in your head.

The Sully boy pictured it too. It looked very similar to his mother and father right now. You would still be a warrior while also caring for the people when they needed it. He would wear the large feather chest piece and headpiece his father wore—planning hunting trips, war parties, overseeing the entire clan. The future was so close yet so far. He knew it would be before him soon.

For now though, he wouldn’t worry about that and enjoyed the time he was spending with you by his side. It was enough waking up in the early hours of the morning, spending hours on specific skills, he didn’t need to wish it upon himself right now.

“Well, if it does happen, at least the people seem content with your choice of..me.” You giggled at your wording. Neteyam smiled.

“It is a miracle no one has talked much. I think they know my father will be at their throats considering I am their son if they did say anything about you.”

“I knew it would be fine. You worry too much sometimes, you know.” You poked at his chest, making him squirm away from you.

“I am merely just caring about you. It is not worry.” Neteyam attempted to defend himself, but it was clear he had a weak defense.

“You also worry. Do not be afraid to admit it. It is charming knowing you worry so much.” Another grin came from you.

“Well of course I am going to worry and care. It is who I am.” You pulled him back towards you so he could cuddle into you.

“And I love who you are.” You cradled his head, pulling your hand through his pretty braids.

He almost said it. He almost had the courage to tell you.

Jake taught Neteyam the phrase when he once asked what it meant after hearing him tell it to his mother. Jake explained how it was much more intimate than I see you. It was something the Sky People would tell those they cared deeply for.

Neteyam had been wanting to say it you for ages, but he never thought it was the right time. He didn’t know how you would react. Would you freak out? Would you say it back? Did you love him? He for sure loved you, but he wasn’t sure if you reciprocated his feelings that much. He didn’t want to scare you with such a meaningful phrase. It seemed like the right time, but it also didn’t at the same time.

Instead, he nuzzled his head further into you and breathed you in. He savored the way your hair smelled—somehow it always smelled like fresh flowers. He listed to your heartbeat, nearly putting him to sleep. The moment was taking him over. It was complete bliss and comfort being in your arms.

THE ONE TIME HE SAID IT.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

You planned a cute little picnic in the forest for you and Neteyam. He was dragged out of his hut with instructions to keep his eyes closed or he would ruin the surprise. Your grip on his hand was tight as he was dragged through the forest, occasionally knocking his head against a low hanging branch you forgot to push out of the way.

“Y/n, that was the third branch. Where are we going?” He laughed trying to figure out where he was, but it wasn’t much luck considering he was blindfolded.

“Just be patient. You will love it.” You hoped he would love it. You worked to put it together all day yesterday, so if he didn’t like it you’d be damned.

Trusting you, Neteyam kept accepting hits to the head and scratches to the arm knowing it had to be worth it in the end.

When you two finally arrived at your destination, you pulled the cloth from his eyes. He squinted, not used to the bright light, but when his vision finally leveled out, he was in awe of what he saw.

The little clearing had been decorated with numerous vines that wrapped around each tree branch. Flower petals were scatted along the ground. It looked like something from his dreams.

“Surprise! What do you think? A picnic in the forest.” You held your arms out, excitement bouncing across your face. Neteyam was still speechless at the effort that must’ve been put into all of it.

“You did this all for me?” You nodded, leading him further in.

“Of course I did. I had some help from Kiri and my sisters, but you deserve it after all the work you have been doing.” You turned to him, grinning widely. Neteyam cupped your face trying to find the words to express his gratitude.

“You are the best person ever. Thank you, my love.” He pecked your lips and then went to see what you had packed for your picnic.

You joined him on the blanket Neytiri let you use while Neteyam immediately began eating anything he saw. You laughed at his actions.

“Someone has not eaten yet today?”

“Oh, you have no idea. I have been out since the eclipse ended training with my father.” You grinned, glad you could feed him.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Since it was a spur the moment surprise, neither of you thought to bring any weapons with you besides the knives you always carried. It was a part of the forest only Na’vi went. There was no possible way danger could lurk around the corner or behind a tree.

“If you could come back as anything you wanted, what what you want to come back as?” Neteyam laid across the blanket staring up at the clear sky. Your head was beside his as you laid the other way. Your stomach’s were full of food and now you were just relaxing in the sun.

“Anything?” That was a hard question. There was so many things you wanted to be.

“Anything.”

“I think I would want to come back as an ikran. They are so beautiful and just imagine being able to go anywhere you wanted basically. Flying through the sky with your rider. It sounds like such a dream.” You adored your rides with your ikran and being one would be a whole other level you would want to experience.

“I think I would want to come back as one of the good scientists like Norm or Dr. Max.” Neteyam’s answer surprised you and even himself. Sky People were evil and even some didn’t fully trust the good scientists who stayed behind, but he wanted to know what it felt like to live as human.

His father told him and his siblings countless stories of his time being apart of the Sky People and it always intrigued Neteyam.

“I know it sounds crazy, but my father told us so many stories as his time as one of them. It just seems so interesting to me.” He continued his reasoning when you didn’t respond.

“I understand it. I think it would be interesting to live as them for a day.” It was strange to Neteyam. Sky People could live like his people whenever they chose to, but he could not live like them. There was no science to make human bodies for Na’vi people who wanted the experience.

He got a lot of exposure from Spider, but it wasn’t really the same. Neteyam wanted to see it, feel it for himself.

“I have just always felt human because of my father’s blood. Even though I do not have the five fingers like Lo’ak and Kiri, I still have half of his blood in me.” Neteyam tore his gaze to his hands. His long, thin fingers that were just like his mother’s and Tuk’s.

His parents liked to say he took on more of Neytiri’s genes while Lo’ak gained Jake’s.

“It is okay to wonder and want to feel it, Neteyam. You are half human, half Na’vi. It is good you are curious.” You reached up to caress his cheek and the boy leaned into your touch.

“It just feels wrong, though. The Sky People are demons. They hurt us. Why do I want to wonder more about them?” In a sense, he also felt guilt. He knew how much his mother despised those people and even sometimes Spider because he was one of them. Why should he want to know more when all they did was hurt people?

“Do not feel guilty for wondering. Your father was them once upon a time,” He grinned at your english phrase you used. Him and Lo’ak were definitely rubbing off on you. “And he is a good human. You can still wonder and want to be like them and still be good. Norm and Max are good Sky People. It is your blood, your ancestors. Do not feel bad for wanting to wonder.” Neteyam liked the reassurance you were giving him. He was worried he sounded crazy or something.

He was about to respond when his ears twitched for a second and he suddenly got a random chill across his arms. A faint rustling noise floated into his ears. He quickly sat up.

Normally, he wouldn’t have been so alarmed, but the way his skin started to crawl told him it wasn’t some animal lurking.

“Neteyam? What is wrong?” You sat up seeing his quick change in demeanor.

“Shh, be quiet for a second.” He held his finger to his lips. His eyes bounced around the area you two were in and he grabbed for his knife.

The rustling noise continued and it got closer to where you guys were. Neteyam grabbed your arm, making you stand up with him. His actions were frightening you because you didn’t know what was going on.

“Someone else is here.” He whispered to you. He felt his heart beating a bruise into his chest at the idea of someone else lurking close by.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

A noise and then an arrow was flying just above your heads. You screamed out of instinct and fear. Neteyam’s hand was back on you about to hide behind a tree. When he spun around, two larger hands with a much stronger grip grabbed ahold of the two of you.

You screamed again. Neteyam hit them with his knife causing a minor distraction. He spun away from the prying hands, until four more people emerged from the bushes, large guns in their hands. He suddenly stopped, knowing he couldn’t take them with just a knife.

“Well, look at what we have here. Looks like we crashed someone’s date.” Neteyam knew it wasn’t a true Na’vi by the way they wore full clothes and spoke in english to him. It was Avatars.

The one, tall with a buzz cut haircut, crouched down to be at his eye level. Neteyam hissed at him as he scanned his entire face with his eyes. He held his knife out for defense.

“I heard you talking a few moments ago. You said your father was from the..Sky People. Your father doesn’t happen to be Jake Sully, does it?” With the English Neteyam did understand, he knew this guy was bad and clearly had his dad on his radar.

“Oe rä’ä tslam nga.” (I do not understand you) Neteyam growled out. The avatar looked at him, quirking his eyebrow and exchanging a glance with his accomplices with him.

You continued to struggle in the hands that held a tight grip on you.

“If you tell me where your father is, I’ll let her go.” He nodded towards you. Neteyam only hissed at him once more, knife high, ready to strike.

“Or we can do this the hard way, it’s up to you. You are definitely your father.” The avatar man grabbed Neteyam’s hand. He examined his fingers, raising his eyebrow once more.

“Sure didn’t get his genes though, that’s for sure.” The others snickered around them. Neteyam pulled his hand back, unsure of what to do. If he went for a hit, they wound shoot and he didn’t want that to happen.

His eyes gazed over at you. You met his gaze, the same unsureness resting in your look. If you were scared, Neteyam couldn’t tell because you hid it well.

He couldn’t call in his dad because that would just lead this guy right to him. He was out of any good options.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

“All you have to do is tell me where your dad is and no one will get hurt.” Neteyam thought of an idea.

He slowly raised his hands in means of surrender. The guy looked at him, curious. Neteyam set his knife down by his feet and then slowly moved his hands to where his transmitter sat on his neck.

He pushed into the buttons and began speaking in Na’vi since these guys clearly didn’t understand it as well as he could speak it.

(Let’s pretend this is Na’vi because I can’t translate the entire conversation 😌)

“Dad, we’re under attack, I need help.” Neteyam glanced warily at the man standing before him who watched his moves carefully.

“Neteyam? Where are you?” His dad came into his ear, urgent and worried.

“In the forest where the open clearing is. Avatar men with guns. We’re surrounded.”

“We? Who is we?”

“Y/n and I. We need your help.” The guy wasn’t exactly picking up on what Neteyam was saying which was good. His plan was working so far.

“Okay, we’re on our way.” And then he was out. Neteyam knew two things after that: one, his father was a much better fighter than these guys were. He was Na’vi, he had years and years to adapt. He could take these guys out easily. Two, his dad wasn’t going to give himself up to this guy and if they could defeat him, it wouldn’t even be in the question.

“He is coming now.” Neteyam spoke in english so the guy understood. He quirked his eyebrow once more, almost surprised.

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” The others chucked around them. Behind his back, Neteyam made a small hand signal to you that he hoped you would understand.

Suddenly, there was a screech. You had bitten the arm that was holding you. Neteyam used that distraction to grab his knife from the ground. He went for the guy’s leg.

You wrestled out of the grasp. The others went for you, but being the skilled warrior you were, it was easy to take them out. You swung your leg around, taking one out with your foot.

Neteyam slashed the leg of the guy and went for his gun. His father had taught him and Lo’ak how to use one, so he knew exactly where to go to blow the amo out of it.

He used his knife to slash another one’s arm. It was pure chaos. Blood sputtered every which direction and the others were trying to fire their guns at you two. You were quicker than them, though. You knocked them from their hands and kicked their legs out.

One particular cut Neteyam made went across the entire face of one of the avatars.

“Quaritch, we need to fall back. We can’t take this many losses right now.” One of them urgently spoke to the one Neteyam slashed the leg of.

“I need Jake Sully. I am not leaving without him.” He argued bitterly.

“We’ll come back when we’re better prepared! At least we know they’re close by.” He seemed to finally give in. He called something Neteyam didn’t understand and all of his accomplices began retreating back into the forest where they had come from.

Relief flooded through Neteyam. They were leaving and the both of you were still safe. However, his relief didn’t last for very long.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

He turned to you, a smile spread across his lips until he saw the way you clutched your stomach. Your hands were trembling as they slowly revealed what was happening. Your knife handle was sticking out and blood was dripping from your skin.

There wasn’t a smile on his face anymore. His relief disappeared and was quickly replaced by fear.

“Neteyam..” You sputtered, swaying on your feet. He was quick to catch you before you hit the ground.

“No, no, no, no, Y/n. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Look at me. Look at me. You’re okay.” He was sputtering, clutching your arm and staring at the way your knife was lodged into your stomach.

“Why am I so warm? Is it warm?” Your entire face was losing color by the second. Neteyam, even though he tried not to show it for your sake, was panicking.

“You’re fine. It’s going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. Help is coming. They’re coming to help us.” He knew better than to pull the knife out, but you were practically pouring blood everywhere.

“Am I dying? Is this what it feels like to die?” The blood loss was making you go into shock. Neteyam was cradling your head, trying to stay calm for you and himself.

“No, you are not dying, my love. You are going to be okay. You are not going to die. I will not let you die.” If he had his bow and arrow, maybe he would’ve been able to take down those other guys easier. If he had a better weapon, anything other than a knife then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

You were not dying.

Your breathing started becoming rigid. It was broken into heavy pants and you were sputtering again.

“If-if I don’t..If I don’t make it..Can you-will you take care of them for me?” Your siblings. Neteyam visibly shut his eyes for a moment. How would he explain this to Foana? Who would take care of them if you..no you were not dying.

“Do not say that. You are going to take care of them because you are going to live. My dad is coming. Everything is going to be okay.” It was mostly just so Neteyam would believe himself too. Everything was going to be okay.

His ears twitched and perked up when he heard sounds of ikrans coming. His father’s ikran came into view along with his mother’s. They landed and then rushed to where you two were.

“Dad! Someone put her knife into her. She..she is losing so much blood.” Neteyam’s voice broke that time. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Shit, shit.” Neteyam watched as his dad gently flipped you to your side. Luckily, there was no exit wound, but the blood kept coming.

“I-I do not feel very good. I-I-“ You were heaving at this point. Your eyes were glazing over and your entire skin had gone from a deep blue to an entirely lighter shade.

“Y/n, you need to stay with me. Please, please stay with me.” Neteyam cupped your face, trying to keep your eye contact with him.

“We need to get her to the village. To Max and Norm and Mo’at.” Neytiri had a look of pure horror on her face seeing you like that.

Your eyes couldn’t stay open much longer. The blood loss was becoming fatal. Neteyam began shaking you when he saw your eyelids drift closed.

“Y/n! Y/n!” He was in too much of a panic to even check if you were breathing or not still. He could not lose you. Not now.

“We need to get her to the village, right now. Neteyam! Are you with me?” His father was practically yelling at this point. However, his eldest son fell into what was his own shock.

He did not and could not move seeing your almost lifeless body in front of him. He didn’t process it as his dad lifted you up to his ikran. His mother had to pull him to his feet, trying to snap him back into attention. Nothing worked, though.

All he could think about was you. You, you, you. You were in love. His future woman. His future mate. You were the sister to his siblings. The sister to your siblings. You were their care taker. Who would..who would take care of them now?

He should’ve told you. He should’ve told you the other night on your night ride. It was so close on the tip of his tongue. Why couldn’t he find the courage to tell you then? What if he never got to tell you ever now?

Your body became so lifeless in his arms. Pale skin, gone eyes, blood nearly everywhere. This couldn’t be the end. There was so much life ahead for the two of you. Your future plans. He couldn’t possibly do it all without you.

His mother somehow managed to get him onto her ikran. She flew quickly through the sky after her husband who clutched your body tightly.

When they landed, you were rushed directly to Max and Norm. Mo’at was brought in to give you a heavy sedation medicine so they could pull the knife out without damaging anything serious. It was near chaos. No one but Mo’at was allowed where they were inside the labs.

Neteyam chewed on his bottom lip. Guilt, fear, anger, sadness, everything at once was eating him up inside. He figured he should be the one to tell your siblings what happened, so he did.

Their faces were enough for him to finally break down right in front of them. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. It should’ve been me. The phrase repeated in his head like a broken record.

All five of them sat on the ground of your hut hugging one another close. For a moment he hated your parents for not being here in this moment. They had no idea what was happening to their daughter right now.

Neytiri offered their hut to your siblings without hesitation to stay in.

Hours were ticking by it stated to feel like days to Neteyam. There was no word on the progress or your condition. It was merely a waiting game at this point. The knife was lodged deep and you lost a lot of blood.

Everything was perfect until it wasn’t.

Mo’at finally emerged after what seemed like almost six hours where a large group had gathered outside of the lab doors—Neteyam and his family included. All of them deeply concerned about your well-being.

“The knife has been removed. She is stable, but she is sleeping still and will be for a few days.” A tiny bit of relief washed through Neteyam knowing the operation was at least successful.

—

The days went by and you had finally awoken. Once visitors were allowed, your siblings were the first to check on you, of course. Neteyam hung back, a bit anxious and nervous to see you again.

He felt so guilty for what happened. He could not protect you after saying countless times that he would at any given moment. His failure caused him to hang his head low and avoid looking people’s way when he went out.

Kiri, Tuk, and Lo’ak were the next group of visitors. Neteyam still hung back. Maybe it was fear that was holding him back?

Could he possibly look you in the eye again after seeing you with a knife lodged into you? Not really. His fear made him feel upset in a sense. Why could he not face you? You were his love, yet he could not find himself to step foot into the lab.

A few more days passed and eventually the doctors and Mo’at agreed to move you back into your hut for more comfort. Neteyam avoided the entire village that day, in fear that he would see you.

What was wrong with him? One minute he could not stop seeing you and now he was afraid to even make eye contact with you.

It made him feel even more guilty.

One night, he sat outside by one of the drop-off spots. His head pounded and every single thought he ever had was swirling around like a school of fish.

He didn’t feel another presence until he caught sight of his mother sitting down beside him. She had began recognizing his absent behaviors and his avoidant gazes anytime he was around people. She knew how hard this was on her son.

“Have you seen her at all?” She crafted her words gently. Neteyam shook his head.

“I cannot. It pains me and the guilt is eating me alive.” He grabbed his chest like something was actually messing with him in there.

“Well, she is asking for you. She is confused why you have not seen her yet. You should go see her, Neteyam.”

“I can not. Every time I look at her I remember the horrid images of the knife deep in her stomach as the blood seeped through. It was the worst part of everything. I promised her protection and I can not even do that anymore.” He wanted his mother to understand, but he knew she wound not. Not completely, at least.

“Neteyam, this is not your blame. You did everything you could and no one is blaming you. I promise you, son.” Her arm outstretched to bring comfort to her son. She rubbed his back, trying to get him to understand.

“Then why do I feel so, so guilty like it is my fault?” He pleaded for an answer. His mother tried to come up with as best of an answer as she could.

“When you care for someone as deeply as you do, whatever happens to them begins to feel like it is your fault. It is not your fault, though. You take the blame because you think there is no where else to place it. My son, you did everything you could. No one is upset at you or mad or angry. Y/n is not upset with you. Do not think that.” Neteyam’s head hung low.

“I think it will fix a lot of things if you go see her. You will begin to realize this was none of your doing or fault.” Neytiri urged once more and Neteyam knew he couldn’t keep refusing. He had to be mature. He was almost Olo’eyktan and he couldn’t even face his own injured (almost) mate.

“Okay. I will go see her.” Neytiri smiled, giving her son a nod of encouragement.

The Sully boy stood and turned in the direction of your hut. He started bracing himself—for insults? Anger? Sadness? Frustration?

The closer he got to you, the faster his heart would beat against his chest. From inside, he could hear your siblings talking and at times arguing with one another.

He tapped on the wood before pushing aside the flap that covered the inside. Tsanten and Naria looked his way.

“Neteyam! You’re here!” Foana was at his legs, hugging him much like Tuk did. He smiled down at the little girl.

“Hello, Foana. Tsanten. Naria. Ni`awtu.” He bowed before them. Their looks told him they had never been greeted that way before.

In the corner, Neteyam caught sight of your figure. You were sitting upright carving something when you finally noticed his presence in your home.

“Neteyam, hello. Come in, come in.” You urged him in further. He slowly went to you and your siblings filtered themselves out knowing you two probably needed some space.

“You look so much better. How are you feeling?” He questioned taking in your skin that returned to its usual blue shade. You smiled some.

“I am definitely feeling a lot better. How are you?” You took ahold of his hands. The questioned seemed silly to him considering he wasn’t the one who got stabbed.

“I am doing okay. I am not the one who got stabbed, though.” He stifled a small laugh. You rubbed at his fingers and he was just glad to be able to feel your hands in his again, not the lifeless feeling they once were.

“Well, I have not seen you yet, so I was making sure you were okay.” Neteyam grimaced just a bit. He felt guilty for not visiting you sooner, but he just couldn’t bring himself to face you in the state that you were in.

“Yes, I am okay. I am sorry I did not visit you sooner. I..I just felt guilty about all of this and I was being selfish with myself.” His head hung low, ears dropping. You grabbed his chin though, shaking your head.

“There is nothing to feel guilty about, Neteyam. You did everything you could. Eywa gave me life again because she knew my time was not over yet. This was not your fault.” Your words were reassuring. He forced a small smile.

“Plus, you forget how strong I am. I have thick skin. Literally.” You laughed this time. The joke was corny, but it made both of you smile.

You allowed yourself to pull Neteyam closer and he situated himself so his head laid in your lap. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your fingers raking through his braids. It was a familiar feeling he had grown to miss while you were recovering.

“Hey, Y/n?” You turned your attention to the boy in your lap.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Neteyam’s heart was pounding, nervous for your reaction. He wasn’t sure if that was an Earth phrase you knew or understood, but he hoped it was.

A tiny smile danced on your lips. You caressed his cheek, leaning down to kiss it.

“I love you.”

The rest of the evening was spent wrapped in each other’s arms.

[xox-little-troublemaker-xox]

Did you miss us?

Pairings: Wanda x reader , Natasha x reader , yelena x reader

Words: 1,319

Warnings: 18+ Dark Themes, blood,knife kink ,magic use, restraints,Cheating, slight CNC, Use of Toys, Mommy/Daddy Kink, Orgasm Control?, Strap On Sex, Oral (R,W,N receiving) Semi public Sex, Kidnapping? Language Warning , Dom! WandaNat, Sub! Reader …… if missed any let me know

This is my first ever time writing a fic so I’m sorry if bad or terribly written I also terrible at proof reading so I’m sorry for any spelling mistake or grammatical errors forgive me please . Also would like to give thanks and credit to @yelenasdiary for helping with this

I woke up from a cozy nap on the sofa with my beautiful girlfriend Yelena , her arms wrapped round my waist she was still peacefully sleeping . So I carefully wiggled out of her grasp and replaced myself with pillow so I wouldn’t disturb her sleep and decided I would go out on nightly walk while she sleeps I went up stairs and got dressed and headed for the front door.

The crisp cold weather hit me like a slap in the face as I made my way to forest. Walking in the dark gloomy woods during winter sounded like great Idea till I found myself being thrown on the ground head hitting one the massive tree roots. I got up trying to see what just happened with throbbing pain coursing through my veins up to point of impact of my head vision slightly blurred. For as far as my fuzzy head could see there was nothing so I tried walking back to try get some help so I could get to a hospital. each step I took I could hear the echoing sound of another this caused panic to hit me like a brick and trying to move as quick as possible but also as quite as possible so I could to not alert the other person in the forest of my where bouts.

I got to point where I could see specks of light and roads poking through the trees, I got excited and celebrated in my head that I was so close to safety. just as I was about to get through the last of the trees , I was grabbed by my legs and dragged back. I must have hit my head again because when I opened my eyes, I was tied to a tree blood slightly pouring out over the ropes I could hear the sound of crackling fire behind me. I turned my head as far as I could to see a roaring bright orange fire inching towards me that's when it hit the smell of petrol around me it was extremely potent right where the ropes were tied round me. As much as it hurt me, I moved as much as I could to try and escape but the more I moved the more friction I was creating between the tree and the rope.

The rope set on fire due to the friction I was creating which burned some of the rope causing it to rip a part and me being able to slowly wriggle my way out the ropes and fall to floor due to my body being so weak from exhaustion and blood loss. As I was getting up from the ground I got lifted up and thrown back into the the tree. The weird thing is I couldn’t see no one anywhere that’s when I realised the red that was swirling round my waist “ Wanda” I tried to scream with most the energy I had left in my body that’s when I heard two faint sadistic laughs in the distance heading towards me I couldn’t figure out who the second person was till a familiar knife came flying towards my head it just skimmed the side of my face that’s when I look and realised it’s one Natasha signature knives .

That’s when the pair came into my eye view. I was bought to the floor still being restricted by Wanda magic. After sitting there unable to move while they talked for what felt like forever they approached me Natasha spoke first “hi y/n my love” said in a sickly sweet tone Wanda spoke next “we missed you” Natasha approaches me bringing a knife to my throat and whispers in my ear and says “did you miss us kotenok” I’d be lying if I said that didn’t send heat straight to my core . She licked and nibbled my ear and my face Betrayed me it’s was flushed bright red I could feel the smirk plastered on her face . She began kissing my neck and said “tell me you don’t want us and I will stop” when I didn’t respond she bit my neck slightly causing me to moan and scream “ YES PLEASE DON’T STOP” that’s when I found my self flipped on to my back my clothes magicked of by Wanda and Natasha eating me out as If I was her last meal I could see Wanda slowly massaging her clit to the display in front of her seeing her like that turned me on more .

In between moans I begged for Natasha to keep going and Wanda to come over “ Wanda please” but my pls fell on deaf ears “that’s not my name kotenok” I knew what she wanted to hear and it wasn’t till Natasha sucked my clit harshly that I ended up giving in “ MOMMY PLEASE” this was like music to Wanda ears because that’s when she sat her self on my face and said “ you don’t get to cum till I do “ I begin bucking my hips against Natasha face and she can tell I’m getting close so she stops completely and the whine I let out into Wanda pussy earned me a slapped to the thigh from Natasha “ mommy said no cumming till she does so none of that get back to work” she said as i now feel her on my thigh she started riding my thigh spreading her wetness. I was going whine again till I felt her shove 2 fingers into my tight hole causing me to flex my thigh arch my back and moan send vibrations through Wanda which ended in Natasha to moan as well and Wanda to cum on my tongue “OH GOOD FUCKING GIRL” Wanda screamed.

Wanda climbed off my face only to magic her favourite vibe to and strap it against my clit. Natasha got off my thigh and took Wanda original space on my face. With Natasha on my face I couldn’t see what wanda was doing , she hadn’t turned the vibe on so I was suspicious to what she was going to do was I just going to be left on the edge?! Of the blissful finish line I was waiting to go over . I had all these silent questions till I felt something poking at my entrance then entering me. I knew just by the feeling it was Wandas favourite strap, she ended up bottoming me out which caused me to moan loud sending vibrations into Natasha. When she felt I had enough time to adjust she turned the vibe on and began to thrust into me at an unforgiving peace I didn’t take me long to be right at the edge again moaning away into Natasha pussy causing her to fall over the edge.

Natasha climbed of me and began using her knife to lighting carve the initials N and W into my stomach this turned me on so much more adding to my arousal . With the vibrations and wanda brutal peace I was getting lost in pleasure and they both could tell I was close with the arching my back they simultaneously said “ cum for us pretty girl” and with that I let go. After I had cummed Wanda used her magic to clean us all up and clothe us all. I tried to get up but my legs were like jelly Natasha saw this and laughed “mommy fuck you that good?” She said with smirk plastered on her face . I eye rolled her at that comment and with full attitude said “whatever” that was a mistake on my part because I was then thrown over her shoulder and she spanked me and said “what was that slut had something to say” I stayed quiet after that I knew better then to speak up again.

@whorecollector69 here’s your fic

[salmonisneverbored]

Hi! Is it possible to have Husk x male reader (as a couple). During the final battle the reader is injured by Adam, is seriously injured and remains unconscious for a few days, Husk takes care of him during his recovery

hi! Yes it is! This is my first ask here so I apologize if it takes me a longer time then you hoped/gen

it is in the works as we speak

it’s done!! Yippee!!

not proof read!! I apologize for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors I have very likely made!!

so sorry in advance!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ request: yes!

by:@acolote009

Prompt: Hi! Is it possible to have Husk x male reader (as a couple). During the final battle the reader is injured by Adam, is seriously injured and remains unconscious for a few days, Husk takes care of him during his recovery

Tw:none really…..uh if you find any let me know

Genre: hurt/confort, fluff

pairings: Husk x make reader

Characters: 

main: Husk, you. 

Supporting: Angel, charlie

Mentioned: Adam

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the mists of the battle you’ve been struck but Adam you look at him in shock before you passed out, ‘wasn’t Alastor handling Adam?’ You thought as everything went dark. 

As the battle finally winds down Husk looks around for you with Angel and charlie, they split up. After an hour of searching husk gets a call from Angel, they found you in critical condition. 

“Shit- is, he’s gonna be alright..isn’t he..?”

Husk’s voice filled with worry for his lover but he kept that calm-ish tone

“Relax, this is Y/N we’re talkin’ about here Husky, he’ll be alright”

Angel responded before hanging up the phone as he saw husky approaching them. 

Charlie got you to a safe space to rest as you healed and they re-built the hotel. 

As the hotel was rebuilt you were on the back of Husk’s mind he was worried but didn’t let it show, but his slight shedding was making it a bit obvious. The shedding didn’t start till about a week after the battle when you still hadn’t woken up. Husk sat beside your bed with a bottle of booze as he talked about the hotel and how his day was, all the new sinners and activities charlie was hosting. He was keeping you updated, despite you being in a coma like state. Husk grabbed your hand and kissed the knuckle before biding you farewell and going back to work at the bar

“Hey husky~ how’s Y/N doing’?”

Angel asked as Husk took his spot behind the bar 

“Not any better but not any worse, all we can do is hope for the best…”

Angel nodded at husk’s words before spitting his drink out and pulling a cat hair out of his mouth

“Dude, you gotta stop stressin’! You’re gittin’ hair in my drinks!”

Angel said with a sympathetic laugh

The next day Husk went in to check on You again but when he entered the room you were sitting up. 

“Y-Y/N?”

“Husk…?”

Husk shit the door and sat beside you quickly pulling you into his side, being careful to avoid hurting you

He held your face in his hands(paws..? Claws??) gingerly before he nuzzled into your neck purring softly

It was a wordless encounter but who needed words with the purring and tears of joy? 

Husk held you in a loving embrace before kissing your temples and leaning his forehead on your with a soft 

“I missed ya kid…”

“Babe, it’s weird when you called me that”

you said with a gentle laugh, Husk rolled his eyes, he really had missed you. 

————————————————————————

hey, I hoped you liked it! I again apologize for any spelling errors and if any one id too ooc…

this is my first time writing for husk so it was exciting! I hope you like reading it just as much as I did writing it!!

[i-like-old-things]

Sure! It’s my time to shine!!!! (Also for you @thejamdergod and @miss-gonna-be-alright-someday ) Sorry it took so long btw

Charles Thomson was from a man County Derry, Ireland. Born on November 29, 1729, he is most known for his role as the sole Secretary of the continental congress with his career in that position spanning from the very first meeting of the First Continental Congress in 1774 (a few days after he got married) until the last day the country was using the government under the Articles of Confederation in 1789 (he also served as secretary during the constitutional convention). His last mission in his position (oh look at how that rhymed) was to go to Virginia to inform George Washington that he had won the very first presidential election in the United States of America (there was actually a Jeopardy question about that a little while back and Thomson’s name was mentioned).

Some more general information will be under the cut

I will just be doing bullets here

- He immigrated to the colonies when he was 10 after his mother passed away. Unfortunately, his father died within sight of the Delaware coastline and the captain of the ship took everything from Charles and his brothers (some of his siblings were left behind in Ireland)

- Charles went to live with a blacksmith and started learning the trade. He was very very good at it, enough where the blacksmith was thinking of making Charles become an apprentice under him. However, Charles heard this and didn’t want to be an apprentice because he thought he had more potential with learning and decided to run away

- On the way, he met a mysterious lady (there is no information as to who she was) that befriended him very quickly and she eventually sent him to study with Dr. Francis Allison, one of the most highly regarded teachers in the colonies at the time

- When Charles went to study with Dr. Allison, he met many other future important politicians, including his future cousin-in-law and dear friend, John Dickinson

- Charles was a really good student but I’m not going to go into depth about what exactly happened while he was a student (you can find out most of that in the books I mentioned in my source list that’s pinned)

- After being a student, he held multiple teaching positions, mainly teaching Latin

- His first secretary position was for the Treaty of Easton during the French and Indian War (aka 7 Years War). He was selected by a tribe leader, named Teedyuscung, as secretary because of his reputation for telling the truth (if people would see his name on something, they’d say “here comes the truth” or “it was a true as if Charles Thomson’s name was on it”). The tribes approved of Thomson and symbolically adopted him into their tribes with the name meaning “the man who tells the truth”

- During that treaty, Thomson saw, first hand, the mistreatment of the tribes at the hand of the British and actually wrote a pamphlet (it’s mentioned in my sources list that’s pinned) that Ben Franklin published in England that spoke out against the treatment of the indigenous people in the colonies. This sparked his anger with the British and influenced his future Patriotic beliefs

- Eventually, he decided to be a merchant and was one of the most outspoken advocates for anti-importation in Philadelphia (it was not as successful as it was in Boston)

- Charles Thomson was the leader of the Philadelphia equivalent of the Sons of Liberty (he was also called “the Sam Adams of Philadelphia” by many people, including John Adams)

- Somewhere in this time period, Charles married for the first time to Ruth Mather. There’s not much information on their relationship but we do know that at some point they did separate and Ruth then died after giving birth to Charles’ only children (they were twins). The twins also did not survive

- He continued his politics and he and John Dickinson were like the Patriotic Duo — Dickinson was the conservative and Thomson was the radical

- Then on September 1, 1774 (I believe) Charles Thomson married his second, and final, wife, Hannah Harrison. Hannah is amazing but I won’t talk too much about her since I’m supposed to talk about her husband. But it is believed they met through the Dickinsons since John and Charles were besties and Mary, John’s wife, was cousins with Hannah. Hannah and Charles had no children but one of their servants (not slave. Hannah freed all of the slaves on Harriton and Charles was an abolitionist who, unlike most at the time, actually didn’t own slaves) was like a son to them

- September 5, 1774: First Continental Congress! I won’t go too much in depth about what happened while he was in congress just because this post is already too long but the sources list will have more stuff on that. He was chosen as secretary for both congresses unanimously but he was never chosen as a delegate (many people in PA thought he was too radical so they picked his conservative bestie, John Dickinson instead)

- Charles Thomson was the second person to sign the Declaration of Independence and one of the few people (possibly the only one??) to witness John Hancock signing it. Contrary to popular belief, the Dec of Independence wasn’t signed by everyone at once and to get it to the colonies to be ratified, they needed a witness and Thomson was there so he signed it. He also possibly carried the Dec with him everywhere he went until he handed over all of his official documents to the new federal government when he retired

- Charles Thomson DID NOT write the final copy. The person who penned it was one of Thomson’s assistants who actually had been in debtors prison

- Thomson was friends with spies who are shown in Turn! (They are Patience Wright and James Rivington — Rivington actually informed Thomson that Washington was going to get poisoned at this one location and so while Washington did not go, Thomson did and his foot was poisoned. Thankfully it didn’t do much to him)

- After he retired from public life, he still kept in contact with money government people including: Washington, Jefferson, Madison, John Jay, and more

- When he retired, he stayed at his wife’s estate (she actually had over $1,000,000 modern US Dollars when she married him) called Harriton (originally called Bryn Mawr) in Bryn Mawr Pennsylvania. He lived there until his death

- He was a beekeeper at Harriton and did a lot with agriculture

- In his final years, he translated the Septuagint (the Greek Old Testament) into English. It was the very first Bible to be translated in the United States

- Thomson was asked, on numerous occasions, to create a memoir of sorts about the Revolution because he was able to experience it in its entirety. Unfortunately, Thomson refused and actually destroyed many of his papers to protect the dignity of the people involved (which I hate)

- Charles Thomson, at the age of 94, died on August 16, 1824 (actually during Lafayette’s tour of America). According to reports, he was physically fine but his mind was not completely there which leads me to believe he might have had some sort of dementia but what am I to say, I’m not a doctor just a person who asks questions

Ok so that was much longer than anticipated so sorry if that was too much information. If you want to learn more you can also look at the source list or do some research on your own. Oh and if you have anything to add to this post, please do

My family: *talking about how the founding fathers owned slaves*

My dad: they all owned slaves

Me: well Charles Thomson didn’t

My family: *completely ignores me*

Me, internally: wow not even my own family appreciates Charles Thomson

[gayandfairycore]

Jack dawson x reader

A/n this is my first time writing for Jack! I just watched the titanic for the first time last night and fell in love with him! And this is a massive fic! It’s taken me ages to get through, but I’m so proud of it! Also it is not really proof read so sorry for any grammatical errors or if anything doesn’t make sense I’m working on mobile and it’s been a pretty stressful time in my life but I still wanted to write something! So I’m so so sorry if it doesn’t make sense or anything! <3

word count: 10k reading time:45 mins

Summary: a toxic father and a rebel daughter who longs to be free, meets a bad influence poor boy who strives for adventure and freedom, what shenanigans shall they get up too, in a doomed to sink ship of dreams What’s the worst that could happen?

Warnings: swearing, abuse, abusive family, beatings, smut, drowning, death (the usual)

The crowds of bustling people bidding their goodbyes to friends and families, as they board the large blue white and red boat. The gold lettering on the back of the boat spelling out titanic.

It was almost mocking the people less fortunate then those boarding the boat, families, waving goodbye to anyone and everyone.

Walking through the large crowd, your family remarking about how the boat sits so large on the calm ocean, and magnificent she was from size to length. Your father had decided to treat your family on a vacation to America.

Walking up the large white ramps, the cool blue depths of the everlarge ocean stretches for miles, the sea is almost calm. Welcoming you.

Staring at the ocean in a trance, the sight of the almost ink like sea is strangely comforting.

The sound of your father yelling your name snaps you from your trance, holding your ticket out to the crew man and stepping through the door, into the large hallways.

People littered the boat everywhere you looked

First class, was where your father had bought, your siblings were so excited to finally stay in the most luxurious boat in the world.

None of that had mattered to you, you were much more excited to watch the people, how they interacted, how mothers and daughters dressed up, trying to appeal to rest of the rich passengers. Trying to seem better then the rest, or how fathers and sons stand to the side gossiping about whatever came to their mind.

Looking down on the mothers and the daughters, picking at everything they did. As they

Complained about how slow the titanic was, or how it was pitiful, how they’ve taken bigger shits then the size of the boat. Whilst others raved about how magnificent she was. The competitive conversations continued to rave all around you. In every corridor.

The sound of violins, and other instruments flooding your ears, as you stood in the dining room, the echoing sound of judgemental rich people filled the air It was tiresome.

Sitting at a table with your family and their rich friends the same boring small talk echoed around the table like ping pong, it was boring.

Your family had been wrapped up in a conversation with some people, who you didn’t care to learn the name of, it had given you enough time to slip away for air.

The cool chill of Atlantic air nipped at your skin, the deck had been near empty for as far as you could see. The lower deck had been almost calling you, bringing you farther and farther away from your family. It was the only thing you yearned for, the violins still playing whatever tune they were commanded to. it always fell on deaf ears, anyway.

As you moved to the lower deck, the white metal stairs clanked with every step you made, picking up your pace, into a run you had made your way to the far railing, clamping both hands over the cool railing the wind flowing through your hair.

You had thought about how easy it would be to just jump, to hell with it all! It would be so easy to be free from your family from this suffocating life. but instead you plastered both hands on the rail as tight as you could. Your feet standing on the lowest rail, as you shut your eyes, and let the wind flow through your hair.

The sound of footsteps echoed through your ears, turning your attention behind you, a man no older then you had been standing there his hands in his pockets, and a soft smile on his face.

“You aren’t planning to jump are you?” He asked a teasing and accusatory smile etched its way on his face. He was a pretty boy.

“What would you do if I was?” You had asked, chuckling softly.

“We’ll I’d just have to jump in after you!” He had retorted stripping his coat off for extra dramatics

“It would be cold you know, can you handle the cold…uhm?” You had asked finding yourself about to say his name only to realise you didn’t catch the charming boys name

“Jack dawson, pleasure” he smiled reaching a hand out to shake yours, before standing next to you and turning his attention towards the horizon.

“And I can’t handle the cold, I once fell through some thin ice when I went ice fishing with my dad as a kid. It had felt like a million little needles stinging my body over and over again, I couldn’t think of anything but the pain” he had spoken, a chuckle escaping his lips. As he turned towards you.

“So miss,,,”

“Y/n”

“So, y/n will you spare me the cold and stay up here with me?” He pondered a loving glint in his blue eyes

“Of course mr dawson.” You had spoken, as you had bowed almost mockingly, and stepping down from the railing.

chuckles escaping you both, as your eyes met eachother in a loving gaze. Unable to escape, until the sound of your name being yelled in a gruff voice had split you both apart and ruined the moment.

Your father had wanted you too babysit your siblings before lunch, to help them get ready whilst your mother and father had to deal with business.

Bidding jack goodbye, and making your way back to your room, your siblings had been standing in centre, a disheveled bed lying behind them as they stand with guilty expressions.

“Don’t worry it’s only me, mother and father want us to be dressed and ready for lunch. I’ll get someone to clean up the room.” You had said with a ruffle of their hair.

“But do be more careful with pillow fights next time! Don’t want father finding out you aren’t robots.” You call out before helping your siblings into their clothes

It had took you about ten minutes to strap your brother into his suit and ten more for your sister and her atrocious Lacey blue gown your mother insist she wears.

Ushering the kids out and asking a crew man if they could point your siblings in the direction of the dining hall, and telling them to deliver a message to your mother and father that you’d be a little longer getting ready.

When really it took you no time at all to slip into your dress, and go about your ways, you just wanted an excuse to sneak off and meet up with Jack a bit more.

And apologise for slipping away so suddenly, you were sure the dinner party would be as boring as usual. Mindless chatter then the men would slip away for their brandy and cigars.

With a timeframe of how long you could be you ran down the steps of the fancy first class hallways and down onto third class deck, wandering around in hopes of finding jack, with little luck. As you turned your attention to two men who had begun to point at you and tease the third friend one hidden from your view.

“Go get her, tiger!” You heard from a man with an Italian accent before jacks figure descended the stairs, and deciding to start with a little small talk you asked him what he was doing when he got off of the titanic, what his life is like and how the weather is.

The sun had begun to set by the horizon as the blonde boy said “we’ve talked about everything from the weather to where I grew up, But I don’t think the reason you sought me out was for small talk.”

“No you’re quite right, I wanted to thank you for being a breath of fresh air, truth be told I did think about what it would be like to jump. And I’m sure you’re thinking poor little rich girl what could she know about misery” you had began to ramble talking with your hands before jack piped in:

“On the contrary really I’m just wandering what could’ve made this girl want to end it.”

“Well it was my world, and everyone in it!” You cry with a sigh. Desperate to escape from this.

“Here yknow what why don’t I show you what it’s like to really live!” Jack says before gripping your hands and leading you down to third class and through one million corridors that all look the same.

Third class was devoid of any love lonely, and snow white wherever you looked the small third class hallways had been a dreary sight,

the sounds of lively music fill the air, a smile plastering its way onto your face, as jack brings you down the the underground party. And sits you at a small wooden table, men are drinking and dancing where ever you looked. This was a real party this was living!

Jack had begun to Dance with a little girl no older then 8, spinning her around and Irish dancing, linking elbows together, it was a joyous sight, your eyes locked on the boys figure. So much held in your gaze love, bewilderment, excitement, and so much more!

You had only just met him, but you had already known he was the most extraordinary guy you had ever met!

these people truely had all the love in their hearts so much it oozed out with every melody of their songs, with every step they took, with every dose doe.

First class passengers may have all the money in the world but they do not live. These people live, they know what life is. And they know it’s cruelty better then anyone and yet they still live, and they still dance freely policed by no one.

As the song had come to an end jack had turned his attention to the you, your figure bringing a smile to his face as he rushed towards you. After talking to the little girl, reassuring her she was still his best girl, before pulling you onto the stage despite your protests.

“Well no time to waste then!” He exclaimed pulling you into a dance, his pale hands gripping yours in a loving advancement. The music had started up soon after it had stopped.

“Is this alright?” Jack pondered with a concerned tilt of his head. His blue eyes shone in the pale light of the room.

“Yes, yes” you had replied, gripping his hands tighter and saying,

“I haven’t danced in years” you were almost sure you had forgotten how free it was to do so.

“We’ll how bout I teach you then” he had replied, steadying his grip on you before lacing his arm with yours and Irish dancing.

Wide smiles on your faces, the smile lines of his face surely showing. His pearly white teeth shining in the light. His face seemingly angelic bathed in the lights of the ship.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Of course.” You smiled, you had only just met the boy but he already made you feel so safe. Jack had begun to let go of your hand, spinning you outwards, the lack of warmth where his hand previously resided had made you falter slightly.

With a harsh pull into his torso, the music quietening, as he dips you. His hair falling over his eyes as he chuckles before pulling you back up.

“That wasn’t Irish dancing” you tease patting his chest lightly

“I wanted to try something new” he smiles his eyes dipping down towards your lips, compelling you to lightly press yours against his, for a moment he doesn’t do anything.

Prompting you to pull away and apologise profusely for kissing him, only for the blonde boy to pull you tightly too him after you pull away, and plant a firm kiss on your lips. Pulling away he whispers a,

“Shut up” before bringing you back into a softer kiss. The sounds of music fill your ears both you and Jack had locked eyes with eachother at the same time. Watching couples pile into the dance floor, there was no rhyme or reason to their steps. It had seemingly given both you and Jack the same idea.

“Would you-“

“Would you-“

You both begin at the same time, chuckles snaking it’s way out of your mouths, before holding hands again and spinning eachother around wildly, feet moving in tap dances.

You were sure if any first class people had stumbled upon you they would’ve been concerned by the way both you and Jack had been dancing, because you were dancing with heart. Something they lacked.

You were especially sure if your family had seen you your father would’ve reprimanded you, your mother would’ve laughed and applauded you in private. She never liked being forced into being 1 dimensional simply for a husband. She applauded you and your siblings for being unique, you were so sure if your siblings were here they would’ve joined in!

Shit! Your siblings, Dinner.

dancing with Jack had distracted you so much you had lost track of time. You were only meant to stay with Jack for 20 minutes, at most there were no clocks around but you were sure it had been atleast an hour.

Your mother would be worried, and your father angry.

“Jack, I am so sorry but I must go.” You spoke frantically, sweat clinging to your body your hair wild, you knew what you were about to walk into would surely not be good. Your father a very unkind man did not take tardiness lightly.

You prayed your mother and siblings could cover for you for a moment longer. Jacks concerned gaze had been on you the entire time, your ears had began to ring, anxiety creeping into your chest.

frantically speeding up the stairs in fear, jacks lanky figure had followed you, he had continued to ask if you were alright.

But you couldn’t reply the anxiety gripping in your throat you weren’t afraid of a lot but your father had made you petrified. He always had that hold over you.

Jack had continued after you,

“Y/n, are you okay?!?”

“Y/N” he roared pushing you against the wall, as softly as he could.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He pleaded his voice soften then you’ve ever heard before.

“N-no. My father, I- I’m sorry I was meant to be at dinner but I’m late and my father will not be pleased.” You had muttered tears burning at your eyes, spilling over the edge in fear

Jacks calloused hands had caressed your cheeks gently wiping the salty tears from your cheeks, with the pads of his thumbs.

“Tell me y/n, why are you so afraid of your father?” He pleads, staring into your eyes searching for anything to put pieces together.

“My father he hurts my mother, and most the women in his life…” you mutter quietly into jacks chest.

“Does he hurt you?” He had asked already knowing the answer when you turned your gaze away from him it had confirmed his suspicions.

“Cmon I’ll deal with your dad.” He replied, gripping your hands tightly in his, even tho you had only known Jack for a day or two he had become the only stable thing in your life.

Stumbling into your first class room your siblings are noticeably absent from the room, your mother standing a few ways away a hand on her hip and another in her mouth biting her nails as her eyebrows are strewn in anxiety.

“Oh y/n! You shouldn’t have come back here. Your father he’s angry. he had lovejoy spy on you, sweetheart he knows where you’ve been. He knows you were with a boy.” She whispered gripping both your shoulders in fear, ushering you towards the door.

“You’ll be alright sweetheart, I’ll find you when he calms down, you know what he’s like…��� she had smiled out her face contorting in poorly hidden fear.

“And you dearie look after her alright.” Your mother has smiled at jack she was much more inclined to letting you live.

You were out, this was the last straw before your father had casted you out, you were sure you had already pushed your luck by mouthing off at every dinner party you ever had the displeasure of attending, and you knew he hated it when you were your own person, When you refused to wear dresses, and start fighting back. He had wanted an excuse to cast you out and you were sure he’d want to find you and punish you.

“He’s going to come after me Jack, after us. I can’t stay there anymore, when this ship docks can I come with you?” You pleaded, fear gripping your heart, that maybe you had overestimated how much Jack would deal with, how much this man would go for you.

“Of course sweetheart” he exclaimed pulling you into his chest and resting his boney hand on your hair, and peppering kisses over your face

“We’ll go to San Francisco, we’ll- we’ll ride the rollercoaster on the pier until we throw up! And we’ll ride horses in the surf! But, none! none of that side saddle stuff, okay. You’ll have to ride like a real cowboy.” He exclaims waving his hands around wildly, he wanted to share his way of life with you.

“You mean like, both legs over the side? Like a man?” You ask, your father would’ve slapped you for even thinking about that.

“Yeah! Yknow I’ll teach you, and don’t even worry about money I once worked on that pier, selling portraits 10c apiece, I sold them for!” He told you fondly, he knew 10c was not that much money but he was sure you could make it work.

“You’re an artist?” You ask, as jack bobs his head yes, and lifting his arm which holds a brown leather sketch book, pulling a few drawings out and looking over them.

“Jack these are magnificent! You have a real gift, you should charge more then 10c a piece.” You race gripping his hands in astonishment.

“Eh they didn’t think much of em in old paree…” he mutters dejectedly

“Paris?” You ask “and Jack do you travel a lot?” You push

“As much as I can I suppose, I go wherever the wind blows. And well just keep going!” He sighs with contentment slamming his hands on his thighs.

“Oh jack that life is so beautiful I wish I could do that, go wherever I wanted to be whoever I wanted to be!” You exclaim looking fondly out to the horizon.

Flipping through the book some more you come to a few drawings of naked women, the detail and the talent this blonde boy had head surely the most impressive you had seen so far, from any suitor your father had tried to set you up with.

“Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls” Had escaped from your lips before you could stop yourself, shocking the man beside you.

You wanted Jack to draw you for yourself, purely for who you were, any other portrait had made you look like a porcelain doll, you didn’t want that.

You wanted one drawing of yourself that is truely you. And Jack could do that.

A bewildered expression graces his features but even still he shakes his head yes as a smile and blush begin to creep up his neck.

“Come. to my families hotel room, I want it to be there, where you draw me!” You say

“You can set up over there” you had pointed over the living quarters, before retreating to your old room.

And slipping out of your dress and into a nice cover up, a large blue heart necklace had been wrapped around your neck.

Another thing your father had purchased in attempt to show off.

He had spent half of his fortune to purchase the horrid thing. And the other half on a boat load of the strongest alcohol this side of the equator.

Taking a deep breath and opening the mahogany door of your bedroom that separates you both.

The lanky figure of jack, sits on a couch sharpening a charcoal pencil. Before turning his gaze towards your figure at the sound of the door creak.

A bashful smile etched its way on his face, a blush creeping up his neck, before he clears his throat loudly.

“Just Lie over there on the bed-the the couch.” He exclaimed coughing to hide his embarrassment at the slip.

A loud chuckle Escapes your lips “nice save Romeo” you retort before stripping off the cover up, and lying down. Lifting your arm to your forehead and staring at jack through your lashes.

You had spent about an hour lying in the same pose just observing the pale boy.

“And done!” Exclaims jack, a proud smile on his face, before showing you his work.

His eyes wracking over your body with such certainty that he had made sure to capture you with only such, he has made sure to draw you how he saw you.

Simply angelic.

Moving around the back of the lounge, your hands had caressed the curvature of his jaw in a loving hold, pushing his smiling face towards yours, and planting gentle kisses on his pink lips.

Before pulling back and saying “I love you, jack dawson”

“And i you, y/n.” The blonde boy had spoken picking his drawings up, whilst you had began to write a letter to your family.

Planting the atrocious blue necklace in the safe along with the drawing jack had just drawn, before slipping into a comfortable dress.

“Jack?” You has called out

“Yeah, y/n?” He had yelled back, through the door

“Could you zip me up?” You had called back out, your arms still stretching behind you in hopes of getting ahold of the zipper.

“Sure, sweetheart” he has called back before cracking open the mahogany door lightly, the warm glow of lights had illuminating his face. Through the door his drawings lying open on the couch.

As he plants himself behind you, towering over you slightly, and planting soft kisses on your exposed skin. Before pulling the silver zipper up, the sound of the common room door opening calls to your attention.

Pushing jack out the back way, as your name is called, lovejoy. he had found you. Stumbling into your siblings room,

Their pillows are scattered across the area, desks litter the floor, paintings slanted on the walls, your father had been cruel enough to target them.

It had sent anger through you, the next time you saw your father you were sure you’d punch him in the face. He couldn’t get away with this for any longer.

Your feet had been planted to the floor staring at the state of your siblings rooms, the tug of jacks warm hand in yours had snapped you out of your trance

“Cmon we have to move y/n” he whispered hurriedly, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you had began to spill into the white hallways of the ship, your fathers lackey having the task of finding you.

Making eye contact with the man a few doors away giggles broke from both you and jack, as you both had sprinted into the large lifts, knocking into people as you went.

The lackey, lovejoy had been too slow standing across from the lift his face hardening in anger, before making a wild dash down the hallway stairs when you both had given him the finger.

As soon as the lifts landed on a floor lower you and jack had sprinted into a corridor, jacks lanky figure running into a worker and his tray of food. Before you both ran through another door, and began to burst out laughing, at the situation.

watching lovejoy as he looks for you both, “pretty fast for a valet this fella, seems more like a cop.” jack sighs out breathlessly a chuckle on both your lips but before you could reply

Lovejoy catches wind of the eyes lingering on his back.

You and jack grab eachothers hands, and sprinting down the corridor lovejoy hot on your heels as you both turned into a dead end corner, a large white door beckons you in.

“in here!” He exclaims before clasping hands over his ears at the sound of the boiler, bubbling loudly near you both.

Locking the door as quickly as possible and halting lovejoy advances.toward you buying enough time for you and Jack to escape down a manhole and into the main boiler room. the coal had began to accumulate on the ladder. Rubbing off and onto your hands. The sweltering steam blowing from corners of the room as sweat began to prick at your skin.

“Oi what are you two doing down here it could be dangerous!” Shouts a worker, you both don’t relay his concern, just latch your hands together and sprint through the room.

Jack shouts a “carry on!” And a “don’t mind us, you’re doing a great job!” To the workers you both pass in the room.

Nothing mattered except for you and jack, you two had all the time in the world!

Turning your attention to Jack just and spare a loving glance at eachother, laughter bubbles in your throat at the experience .

Make it to the end of the boiler room, a large white door can be seen, pushing it open it reveals a warehouse. Jack retorts a quick;

“Oh look what we have here!”

a shiny car is the most expensive thing in this room, by the mischievous glint in your eyes you both have the same idea. Waltzing up to the car, and awaiting Jack to open the door, when he doesn’t, the sound of you clearing your throat to get his attention can be heard.

He chuckles for a moment before grabbing open the door, and taking your hand in his gently, as chuckles escape his lips when he lifts you up to the seat softly before closing the inky black and gold door panel.

The soft velvet of the automobile is like heaven, Jack climbs in the front of the car before honking the horn, and grabbing the steering wheel.

“Where to miss” he says in an over the top accent cranking his neck to briefly see your face awaiting your response

“To the stars.” You whisper in his ear before pulling his arms flush against the leather seats and bringing him over through the front window of the car, a chuckles escape him at your bold moves.

He spares you a calm and loving gaze, still in shock of what you had just done. You had began to pull him closer by his jacket as he wraps his arms around you, before you both began to play with eachothers hands.

“Nervous?” He asked kindly with a shake of your head you reply with a concise

“No” before softly kissing his fingers individually

“Put your hands on me, jack” you whisper, guiding his hands to your chest. And gazing up at him through your lashes.

As he began to lay you softly down onto the seat of the car, enveloping your lips into a feverish kiss.

Stripping of your clothes as he plants soft kisses over the valley of your breasts, cupping them in his calloused hands with a feather light touch, he reattaches his lips to your collarbones nipping and sucking at times.

Wracking your hands down his back, your nails dragging across his skin slowly, guttural moans escape his pursed lips as he slowly begins to move two fingers in figure 8s over your vagina, before inserting them in.

“J-jack” escapes your lips in contentment eyes strewn shut eyebrows creasing in ecstasy.

Fog begins to accumulate on the car windows as jack whispers a quiet “god you are so beautiful”

Before kissing the valley of your breasts, as he lines up his cock with your entrance and inserting slowly.

His thrusts are slow at first letting you adjust to his size, he was skinny, but long. with each thrust high pitch moans escape from your lips as he slowly begins to speed up.

Your hand dragging down softly on the foggy window, jacks back flexes with every thrust. As he

Cups and squeezes at your boobs, rubbing his fingers over your clit in circles that feeling began to build in your stomach, the moaning of your name was enough to bring you over the edge.

“Let go, sweetheart.” He whispers into your ear, and you do, your juices coat his shaft, the moans of his name from your lips are like music to his ears, with one last sloppy thrust, Jack let’s go inside you.

Before rolling off of you, sweat clings to your bodies, you should both be exhausted but you feel more alive then you’ve ever been.

Planting a kiss on his lips and teasing him softly “you’re trembling” you say drawing the back of your hand down the side of his face.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be alright” he smiles, swallowing hard, and planting a kiss to your lips, pulling his head down to rest on your chest as you softly kiss the top of his head. This felt like home, he felt like home.

the sound of footsteps outside the door calls to your attention. Grabbing your clothes and hiding behind a large crate, when two men dressed in white burst through the door, they make their way towards the car.

The hand print making them sure that they’ll find you both, ripping open the car door, the shock etching it’s way on their faces pushing jack up the stairs and making a blind to the front deck of the ship before bursting out laughing, and spinning eachother around.

“Did you see those guys’ faces!” Jack exclaimed laughter echoing around the deserted deck. As he pulls you close to his chest, and smooshing his lips onto yours.

A shake of the ship had broken you and Jack from your embrace, turning to look ahead at what had caused the bump, chunks of the iceberg had spilled onto the top of the deck, Crashing into a million different pieces.

“Get back!” Jack had cried as he pushed you behind him gripping onto his coat in hopes of shielding yourself.

Before gripping his hand and staring at the iceberg looming overhead, anxiety started to churn in your stomach at the thought. Clambering up the stairs and overhearing a few crewmen speak about the damage to the ship.

You had wanted to warn your family of the damage in hopes that perhaps they would get out alive.

“Jack! Jack, I have to find my family and warn them okay?” You had cried knowing that there were only two ways this could go

Both were not good.

Jack had gripped your hand tighter then before and placing a light kiss on your head.

“I’m going with you” he demanded

Wandering through the hallways, chaos was already rising. Rich snobs complaining about how annoyed they were at being woken up.

The crew memebers handing people life belts, panic squeezing in their chest, the lower decks filling with water. Screaming of lower class people could be heard.

Slamming open the mahogany door to your room your mother trying to calm down your siblings and your father talking to the master at arms.

Lovejoy a few ways away from you and jack, a cruel smile on his face. As your father spoke

“Two things have been taken from me tonight and now that one is back. I have a good idea where the other is. Y/n move aside.” He commanded, his moustache upturned as his bushy eyebrows drew together in anger.

All you did in retaliation was try to grab ahold of Jack hands, only for a few men to push you away and search him. Pulling out the atrocious necklace, Jack yelled out:

“This is horse shit! Y/n lovejoy he put it in my pocket. Dont believe em for a second y/n!” He continued to shout as he was cuffed and taken out of the room.

Your fathers cruel smirk staring at your souls almost dauntingly. “Did you really think, I’d let you get away with sleeping with that boy.” He growled

Pushing you to the floor, unbuckling his belt and bringing it down on the small of your back a few times, screams of pain had escaped your lips, as fresh tears rolled down your face.

The cool hands of your father pulling you up, disgust prevalent in his eyes as he dragged you out the door and to the top of the deck.

The stickiness of blood began to coagulate on your back, your family suiting up in life belts, and waiting in line.

The horrified screams of people all around are almost deafening, your father yelling at you to get into the boat, as he leans down to your ear he whispers

“I should’ve kept that drawing it’ll l be worth a lot more by morning.” He sneers your s/c tear stained face turned up to him, as he gripped your arms tightly.

Anger festered in your heart this man was not your father, and he had no right to hurt Jack.

“You unimaginable bastard, fuck you.” You sneered right back venom in your tone as you spat in his face, and pushed him with all your might.

“Where are you going?!? What to him! A whore to a gutter rat?!” He yells stopping you from going any farther spinning around and waltzing up to him

You sneered “I’d rather be his whore then your daughter.” Before intending to just walk away and find jack but before you went any farther you reared around punching him as hard as you could a bruise festering on your knuckles as they split.

Shaking your hand to get rid of the pain and Running past the large crowd of people, screams echoing in your ears making your way down the stairs in search of me andrews, fear gripping your heart.

Had you waited too long? Where could Jack be, speeding through a hallway, mr andrews is there holding a bunch of life belts

“Mr andrews! Oh thank god, where would the master at arms keep someone who had been arrested?” You pleaded

“Miss y/n please hurry to a life boat there aren’t enough for everyone you need to go.” He told you. Leading you away

“Mr andrews for the love of god I need you to tell me where they keep prisoners. If you won’t help me I’ll do it myself, but by myself it will take longer. So please where?!?” You cry out eyes pleading for him to do this for you, desperation echoing in your eyes.

“Okay, go all the way down, And they should be keeping him in the crew passage, down a long hallway. Goodluck miss y/n” He says pity in his gaze.

At his final words you break out in a sprint faster then youve ever ran before there was so time to waste.

Pushing the man manning the lift against the wall and commanding him to take you down.

The fear in his gaze is enough for him to do so, half way down freezing water from the Atlantic begins to splash through the golden gates

“I’m going back up” the scared worker cries, frantically pushing the doors open and tressing through the water as fast as you can the crew passage right ahead.

Calling jacks name, at the top of your lungs as you hurry down one side

No response.

So you yell louder,

No response.

You yell one last time fear that you’ve went the wrong way eats at your heart, until you hear a faint

“Y/n?!”

It was jack. He’s still alive and he needs your help, a new sense of fight fills you, busting through the door jacks relieved face fills your sight.

Running up to him and kissing him harder then you’ve kissed anyone before.

“I love you”

“I love you too” you share, before turning your attention to his cuffs.

“Jack do you know where they kept the keys?” You ask frantically searching the room

“Check the key cupboard it’s a little silverware one!” He pleads standing on a chair and banging his cuffs.

“It’s- it’s not here. Jack I’m going to go find help okay.” You say before he could reply you’re out the door electric cackles and sparks burn all around.

Trekking up the stairs and ripping your dress, the soaked bottom half dragging you down, shrugging off anything that would take you under you called frantically for anyone to help you.

All that filled the air was silence, pattering footsteps from a workman could be seen as he grips your hand tightly raving on about

“Not panicking” and “everything will be fines” pulling back from his grasp and pleading him to come help jack.

Only for the man to continue pulling you farther and farther away, time was wasting and you couldn’t let Jack die because of you.

Ripping your hand from his harshly and socking him so hard in his face, the bruise had been forming already, as the skin of your knuckles split with the impact.

A shock expression overtook your face you were never very strong, but Jack had made you want to be. Leaning on the side of the white metal walls of the lower decks breathing through the pain of the split skin littering over your body.

Breathing deeply and turning your attention to the fire hose, and the emergency axe.

The emergency axe! If you couldn’t unlock him, you’d break them, using the metal from the fire hose and smashing the protective case. Flipping the axe from hand to hand and running to the stairs.

The water ever rising, it had almost enveloped the entirety of the lower floor hallway. Taking a breath and moving under the large metal pipes, gripping them hard, as they creak with the impact of your hand.

The current moving against you as your hand clutches to the metal, the water at your waist all you can think to do is free jack.

If it was not a life or death situation you’re sure you’d look back on the time when you and your siblings had done the monkey bars in a small playground near your home, the calloused that had blistered on your skin were something that you oddly cherished.

but You were sure they’d be in a boat by now, far away from this god foresaken ship but your father would still be here and he’d be out for blood. And blood he would get, but you were not prepared to let it be yours or jacks.

Heaving through the door jacks figure had resided on top of a table debris from the room floating near by

Jacks relieved voice had cried out “oh, y/n! Thank god”

“Will this do?” You had asked eyebrows laced in concern

“I guess we’ll find out! Try some practice swings over there, try hit the same spot.”

“Uhm o-okay!” You exclaim taking a shaky breath and slamming down the axe, splintering the wood.

“Okay now try again, y/n hit the same spot.” He pleads a silent prayer on his lips as you swing again, missing the spot and hitting a few ways away.

“Jack this is the best we’re gonna get. We’re running out of time.” You plead before treading towards him taking a deep breath

And raising the axe above your head but before you could swing jacks voice tells you to

“Open up your hands a little bit, alright you’re gonna do great y/n.” He smiles closing his eyes tightly, the sound of metal hitting metal can be heard.

As the snap of the handcuff chain comes off, you did it. Letting out a proud gasp as jack takes you into his arms kissing you softly on the lips before moving you both towards the door.

Treading through the freezing water jack exclaims “shit! Shit! shit! This is cold.”

His white tshirt see-through from his waist down, turning your heads to the ends of the hallway raging waters, flood from one side. Fully prepared to take you down if you do not figure out another way.

For you had waited too long, turning to jacks horrified expressions you exclaim “that’s the way out!?!” Fear eating at your heart with every moment that passes

“We’ll have to find another way, y/n” jack reassures, gripping your hand and pulling you towards the end of the hallway.

Half way down the water ever rising a white metal stair well comes into view as the current gets harder and harder to fight, running up the stair way as fast as you both can.

Only to find a locked door, the raging water of the room below lapping at your feet like a moth to a flame you rear back pushing your shoulder as well as jacks against the door with all your might.

The sticky blood from what felt like hours ago resplits over your back, your dress staining slightly darker as the metallic taste of blood fills the air around you.

Biting back a fleeting gasp, as a worker in white reprimans you both for beating a door down he exclaims

“What do you’re doing! You’ll have to pay for that you know? That’s white star line property!” His voice following you both as you frantically search.

“Shut up!”

“Shut up!”

Exclaims both you and Jack patience wearing thin with the man, turning your head behind.

Turning through another corridor a sign signifies ‘main stair case’ but that was obvious enough from the line of people frantically banging on the locked gates.

Men, women, and children, all trapped like animals. Caged in like they were something that needed and deserved to be killed.

These people were mothers, daughters, sisters, brothers, sons, fathers. They didn’t deserve to die like this caged in like wild animals in need to be tamed. All they wanted was a chance to live.

Jack searches through the crowd to see if there is at all anyway through there, your chances dwindling at the sight.

“Jack!” A man exclaims sweat sticking to his skin, an Irish accent on his lips.

“Tommy!” Jack replies, a smile on his face

“Can we get out?” Jack asks silently praying that they could. Only for Tommy to reply with

“It’s hopeless that way!”

“Well whatever we do we’ve got to do it fast!” Jack exclaims the push of people all around them is enough to prove his point, the nod of Tommy’s head can be seen.

Until another yell of jacks name splits through the crowd, an Italian man comes running up to the three of you as jack and him embrace.

“Fabrizio!” Jack yells in excitement happy to be reunited with a friend.

“The boats are all gone.” Fabrizio tell us

Jack begins “this whole place is flooding we have to get out of here.”

“There’s niente this way” Fabrizio points behind him

“Alright, let’s go this way, alright? Come on.” Jack says pulling you by the hand behind you both

Sprinting through e deck people surround you all, “come on!” Tommy yells pointing forwards

“No no let’s go this way.” Jack leads us past a crying woman the chaos fills the air in a void of perpetual panic.

Shouts of people from all over can fill the air people who can’t speak English frantically translating signs.

Jack pulls you along and you a second stair well the workers pleading the people to go back to the main stairwell your blood had began to boil and the fact they were going to let these people drown.

Jack moving to the front of the crowd, gripping the gate “open the gate right now!” Jack exclaims in anger pointing at the worker with murderous intent

“Go back to the main stair well like I told you” the worker replies, Jack turns his attention behind him to his friends their expressions changing jacks as he grips the gate in anger and shakes it

“GOD DAMN IT, SON OF A BITCH!” He screams fists beating the gate. Turning your attention behind the crowd the sight of a large bench bolted to the floor stands there

Placing your hands on jacks shoulders and saying “jack, Tommy, Fabrizio. Can you help get that bench? Try ramming it into the gate!” You exclaim

Moving the crowd back from the gate as the boys strain their muscles to rip it from the floor boards.

Holding it to the gate and breathing heavily jack counts them in, “One! Two! Three!” The bench hits the gate as it shakes with the force.

But doesn’t break, pushing again, with a yell. The gate finally breaks, climbing over the fallen gate the workers shout powerless to stop us moving through. Tommy punches him as hard as he can before joining the three of you.

Running up the endless corridors and stair wells, the endless amount of people surround every floor. The crying and screaming, god the screaming felt like it was coming from everywhere. Like it was soaked into the walls.

Spilling onto The front deck, you all had been surrounded by the chaos, shouts of guards, and screams of people desperate to live.

“The boats are gone!” You exclaim as you all frantically search, turning behind you and noticing the figure of the colonel.

“Colonel are there any boats on that side?!” You ask frantically

“No miss but there are a few boats all the way forward!” He replies pointing towards it, as soon as he says that jack grips your hand on his and all four of you run past the crowds.

The sound of the orchestra fills the air, drowning out some of the screams. As Tommy makes a snide remark “music to drown by, now I know I’m in first class.”

If you all weren’t about to drown you think you would’ve laughed. Coming to a halt at one boat jack ushers Tommy and Fabrizio to check the other side

Turning your attention to the boat “I’m not leaving without you jack, I love you.”

Jacks hands grab you by the shoulders, “no you have To go...now!” He pleads his blue eyes staring into yours

“Get in the boat, y/n.” He sighs desperation lacing his lips

“No, I’m not getting on the boat!”

the sight of your father pushes his way next to jack.

“You heard him y/n, get on the boat.” He smiles the distaste clear in his eyes yet he still put on a good show. Wrapping his jacket around you as jack kisses your forehead.

“Go on I’ll get the next one” he sighs pleading with you

“No not without you jack.” You cry you had just found him, you had finally found home and it wanted you to leave it on a sinking boat.

“I’ll be fine, y/n I’m a survivor.” He tells you a pained smile on his face

“I have an arrangement on the other side of the ship jack and I can get on safely. Both of us” your father sneers out the ever dwindling love he has for you making it ever so clear that this would be all he’d ever do.

Sighing reluctantly and finally giving in as the hands of a worker gently places you on the boat.

Grabbing jacks hand as he’s pushed away, you had never truly had a home as the life boat lovers you feel the cracks in the walls begin to break your home your person was going to die if he stayed and stay he must.

The last look of his blue eyes pierce yours, his expression slightly drops. With each bump of the life boat and glance at jack you make the decision.

That jack is not going to die here, and that if he does he will not be alone, you didn’t need to be saved, he’ll you were never truly sure you weren’t going to jump that god damn rail.

A lower floor with an open rail was your perfect chance to get back on the boat, to be with jack.

So you jumped.

The feeling of the wooden railing under your hands had made you realise you did it you were back on the sinking ship, yells and gasps were heard behind you, but you knew what you had to do.

Pushing and shoving everyone in your way you had met up with Jack, in a fancy stairway, jumping into his arms his soft lips had peppered kisses all over you as he repeatedly whispered

“You’re so stupid why would you do that huh? You’re so stupid y/n.” He cried the cracks in his voice and the tears in your eyes are enough to make you both sob.

“You jump, I jump, right?”

“Right” he says taking you into his strong arms holding you tightly and never wanting to let go.

“I couldn’t go-I just couldn’t leave you jack. You’re my home now…”

“And you’re mine” he says with all the love in the world bringing his forehead to yours

Your father at the top of the stairwell had pulled a gun, shooting near you both In anger.

A scream rips through your throat as you both sprint down the stairs, the freezing water hitting your torsos much more homely then a bullet or a belt.

Your father shooting a few ways away the water spurting up as you push through debris, Jack yells for you to go faster but your ears ring and your heart pounds you feel like your drowning already but you’re still moving-still swimming.

The final bullet rings out through the glass spiderwebbing the window as you and Jack continue to move through rooms the faint yell of your fathers voice fills the air.

You can’t make out what he says it’s better that way.

Jack pulls you down into a white stair well and through the flooded dining room The sounds of plates breaking can be heard. Over the loud smashes a crying child can be heard standing on a faded brown suitcase.

“We can’t leave him” you say making your way to him Jack in front of you picking the boy up in his arms and turning his attention to the door rushing water spills from the cracks and the door creaks.

The child’s father comes out of a corner, taking him from Jack and cussing you both out. You plead with the man that they’re going the wrong way.

They don’t listen. And the door cracks open spilling gallons and gallons of ice cold water down the corridor, under they both go.

Running down a corridor in hopes of slowing down your fates you have no luck as the ice water sweeps you both under in the corner of your eye is a staircase.

You needed that stair case, the current flinging you into the gate hard. It rubs across your back the split skin and welts from the belt earlier that night had shot pain down you causing you to let out a scream water filling your throat.

As jack pulls you against him and along to the stair case. There’s another gate, yelling for anyone to help you a worker appears as you plead for him to open it.

He brings the keys fumbling with them in a panic inserting the wrong keys the water up to your waists The keys fall into the water as the worker flees.

Jack takes a deep breath and under he goes outstretching his hands in hopes to grab them when he does after a few attempts he comes back up for air

“Which one y/n?” He asks in a panic

“Uhm uh try-try the sharp one!” You reply a “hurry Jack” leaves your lips in a panic wild eyes glancing at his figure when the water rises to your necks the lights flash jack finally unlocks the lock, pushing the gate as much as possible to escape as your bodies fall out into the corridor

Gasping for air the waves of the water filling your lips with every breath you take reaching wildly for the pipe in a stair case and breathing clearly you were alive.

Running through a living room the figure of mister andrews stands near the fire place

“Mr andrews?”

“Oh my dear y/n.”

“Mr andrews won’t you even make a try for it?” You plead

“I’m sorry that I didn’t build you a stronger ship, young y/n” mr andrews says a distant look in his eyes the spirit of him had been seemingly crushed.

“It’s going fast we had to move!” Yells jack

“Wait wait, goodluck to you y/n.” He says handing you a life belt

“And to you” you whisper Tears welling in your eyes as you pull him into you, hoping that this conveys enough that he does not blame himself.

Jacks hand grips yours as he pulls you towards the door, throwing the life belt over your head and tying sloppily when

both you and Jack finally reach the open deck, the water ever flooding the boat, the loss that will surely flourish from this failed cruise would be disasterous. A few tears slip from your eyes as jack grabs your hand.

“we have to stay on the ship for as long as possible!” Jack cries pushing through a crowd of people, “over the rail” he says.grabbing your hand and helping you down. A kind man helping you up when you trip.

Before running along side jack to the back of the boat pushing and shoving through the crowds. A group of people kneel praying, as one slowly ascends the steps

Jack hurrying the man up pushing his back up the stairs in a rush, the back of the boat begins to raise in the air looking over the railing there were people jumping in hopes to swim to a life boat. Their screams fill the air.

Scaling up the ship tired gasps rip from your throat as jack takes you in his arms at the very back railing a baker the same man who helped you up behind to throw debris into the water in hopes people can hang onto them.

People begin to slip of the end of the boat, burying your head in jacks chest you had begun to realise where you stood was where you had first met jack.

“Jack, my love this is where we first met!” You smiled out a terror in your eyes that stabbed his heart like one thousand knives, pulling you closer as he kissed your head in determination.

Every exhale the warm breath from your lips becoming visible,

the ear splitting sound of the boat splitting in two the metal grinding as it accelerates the back of the boat in the air.

it becomes apparently clear to jack that you both need to climb over the rail.

Jack goes first then helping you over the cool white rail, your front pressed against the rail digging into your ribs with how hard you hold onto it,

jack refuses to let you go, placing a hand on the small of your back. “What’s happening jack” you whisper terror in your voice like none of which he had ever heard.

“I don’t know.” He replied dissatisfied the deep blue freezing water begins to creep closer as the ship starts to fall down beneath its own weight.

You both were going to drown if you didn’t think of something fast.

“The ship is gonna suck us down, Take a deep breath when I say, y/n. Kick to the surface and keep kicking do not let go of my hand.” He commands anxiety eating through your chest you can’t bring yourself to respond only to tighter your grip on his hand.

“We’re gonna make it y/n. Trust me.” He pleads sparing a glance at you telling you all the things he wishes he could’ve told you sooner it conveys just how much he loves you.

“I trust you” you reply the water creeping closer and closer

“Ready? Ready?” Jack yells before telling you to breathe in.

The titanic had sunk and brought down more then half the passengers with it. The ship of dreams became a nightmare.

When the water submerged you both your senses had been completely thrown out of wack you had no idea what was what kicking and kicking to what you thought was the surface the beginnings of hypothermia had begun to strangle you.

But you were not prepared to go down so easily, clasping your hand over jacks and pulling with all your might upwards both of you had broken the water together the screams off people had begun to fill the air again.

You oddly missed the serene quietness that was dying, dying was quiet and peaceful when your life was never that. But you were not prepared to die yet, you were not prepared to lose Jack.

The loud gasp that sprayed from your throat when you inhaled was the only thing reminding you you were alive, and jacks cool hand in yours.

“Jack we need to find something to hang onto” you exclaimed the sight of a door a few ways away had been brought to his attention as he began to pull you towards it. Hands of other survivors had began to hang onto anyone with a life belt pulling them under.

When a man had done that with you Jack had pulled his hand back punching the man in the face and holding your hand as he cried

“Here get on it, get on top.” The large door had been big enough for you to climb onto when Jack had tried to drag himself up and onto the board

It had begun to flip, a sigh broke from his lips as he prepared for the worst he was going to give you the door.

You were fully ready to slap this man in the face because you jump i jump right. He was not going to die for you.

Not today. But before you could untie the life belt around your waist jack had taken ahold of your hand and he had begun to say

“Listen, y/n. You're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on and you're gonna make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old... an old lady warm in her bed, not here, not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?”

He had begun to say, he was prepared to die, with every icy exhale the life had began to dwindle you could see it in his beautiful blue eyes, he continued to confess how much he loved you how he was prepared to die for you

Taking your hand from his and untying the life belt from your waist and slipping off the door jack had called out your name

“Y/n?!” He yelled before pulling you back up

“Jack I need you to help me tye this under the door alright? So it won’t flip over.” You had told him

“Because Jack you’re not going to die here tonight okay. And neither am I so please shake off the hypothermia one last time for tonight and save yourself.” YPU pleaded before going back under and tying your two ties together and bringing them up and over the board.

Jack doing to same, as you both frantically tied them together at the top of the door, pushing yourselves onto the door (Jack first this time because boy spent awhile in the water) the shine of a whistle had caught your attention on another floating debris. Frozen in the mouth of a dead man it had been staring at you almost mockingly before you climbed onto the wooden door

And when she successfully did not flip a chuckle bubbles in both your throats, you had done it!

“You’re a genius you know that y/n” jack had smiled at you before planting a kiss on your lips, and pulling you into him.

The night sky shone as you both held eachother, frost had begun to accumulate on you both, for what felt like hours. You stayed there suspected in the ocean by a door and a life belt.

The screams had gone quiet awhile ago when a flash light had shone over your face patting jack lightly on the arm his eyes shut tightly.

Fear began to fester in your heart, had you been too late? Did Jack freeze to death? Feeling the soft breaths from his nose was the only thing that had told you he was alive.

You had done it, the boats had begun to leave again as you began to cry out weakly

“Come back!” But no one could hear, the whistle from earlier had popped back into your mind prying jacks frozen hands from your body and rolling into the sea the cool Atlantic ocea had nipped at your already hypothermic body.

Teasing you with the thought of death but jacks monologue had popped back into your mind. Giving you enough strength to blow with all your might. The boat had begun to turn back to you both, as they had began to pull you into the boat you had muttered

“O-over there that plank of wood. He-he’s still alive. P-please” you cried as they began to row over to jack, pulling his cool body onto the boat and wrapping you both into a blanket.

Before dosing off you had brought jack into your embrace forever grateful for that whistle and that baker who had given you all a chance.

The warm light of the sun shone brightly on your eyes, as you cracked them open the smiling face of jack had been staring at you with love.

“Hi sweetheart” he smiled planting a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes widening at the sight of him alive and well pulling him into you and planting a kiss on his lips

“Oh god you’re alright!”you cried

“Because of you” he whispers planting kisses all over your face. A proud look gracing his face

“I Love you.” He exclaimed before planting a kiss on your lips

“I love you too” you smiled,

Awhile later you had been standing on another boat as they took names of the survivors still sitting next to eachother in a loving embrace.

“Sorry, ma’am, sir. But could I get your names?” Spoke a worker with a notepad, Jack had begun to speak only for your voice to cut him off.

“Jack daw-“

“Jack dawson and y/n dawson.” You smiled out, love oozing from jacks gaze on you, as he teased

“We’ll miss dawson, where too now?” He had asked a teasing smile on his face

“I was thinking Sam Fransisco pier. We’ll ride horses in the surf and we’ll drink cheap beer til we throw up!” You smiled clasping your hand with his and the other in your fathers coat pocket.

The heavy chain of a necklace was felt in your hand, as you stopped dead in your tracks, Jack turning to look at you in concern.

Before you pulled out the ugly blue heart, smiles stretching on your faces, maybe your father was right, two precious things. Were stolen but it was hardly the necklace.

[salty-jade]

Paper Flowers

Pairing: Tom! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

Theme: Fluff + Valentine's day

Summary: It's Valentine's Day, you're sad, cause you know Peter's not gonna give you anything. or is he?

Note: Yeah... Just wanted to post something for Valentine's Day. Also I made this because I saw a video of someone making origami flowers on TikTok, so that's where the inspiration came from :D. I did proof read this but if I have any grammatical and spelling errors sorry :v.

The school hall was buzzing with students, as the bell signaled the end of the day. However, this was no ordinary day. The gymnastics hall was filled with students getting in line for something that the student council had come up with for the upcoming couples holiday you always dreaded.

In front of the gym door was a pastel pink banner that read, ‘LOVE IS IN THE AIR!’ in big bold red letters. You sighed in annoyance after you read the words. It’s not like you were sad that you didn’t have anyone to celebrate this occasion with, it was more like you knew you wouldn’t be able to ask a certain someone to spend the occasion with because you knew you had no chance (which is basically the same thing).

“Hey Y/N, can you help me get these boxes of letter to Betty for me, I still have a whole line of people who want to register.” a student handed you a box that was filled to the brim with pink and white letters. You were part of the student council, so of course you were roped into helping out with the special program that your team had made. The student council had suggested to make an event where students could send letters or gift to their special someone, and the student councils act as a messenger, or as Betty liked to say, cupids. Though, you liked MJ’s wording better when she said it was more like child labor, but a job for the singles.

You made your way to the other side of the gym where you spotted Betty organizing all the letters and gifts from the students. “Hey Betty, where should I put these?”

“Oh, you can just put them next to the boxes of gifts here for a moment. I’m still figuring out the placements and all.” you followed her instruction and put it right next to the box that was labeled gifts. It was left closed, but you could tell that the lid was not holding it in very well.

“Man, people are really into this whole cupid-messenger thing huh?” your eyes scanned the rows of boxes filled with either gift, chocolates, bouquets, and even more letters.

“Tomorrow is already Valentine’s Day, so all of the students are dropping of their gifts and letter. Also-” She checked out the last box in her list and turned to you, “Well, that’s what happens when you’re in love. and I know a certain someone who is also in love, but is just too scared to admit it.” Betty looked at you and gave a teasing smile. You knew who she was talking about, but you brushed off her comment and turned to look at the sea of students in front of you.

“So, what about you? did you find out that he’s going to give you a gift?”

“Actually, he told me that he was going to get me something, but he said it was a surprise! he’ll give it to me on our date!”

You had to admit, that was smart of Ned to just flat out say it, rather than rely on this messenger thing, only for Betty to find out eventually.

“Well, hope you and Ned have a wonderful date on valentine’s day!” you said.

“Thanks! and I hope you keep your promise to give us some of your homemade chocolate!”

“I was actually going to out now and buy the ingredients after I deliver this to you. So see you later Betty!” after Betty returned the goodbye, you dashed out of the gym as quickly as you could, not wanting to stay in that building full of love struck teens any longer. Unbeknownst to you, a certain spiderling was watching you come out of the hall before entering the gym.

♡

You made it back to your apartment after buying a ton of chocolate and decorations for your gift to your friends. Ever since you were fourteen, you always tried to make valentine’s chocolate every year for your friends. It was a small gesture, but you enjoyed the process of making chocolates for your friends, and this year was no exception.

You tied up your hair and rolled up your sleeves. before taking out the ingredients out of the grocery bag. Without realizing, you were already two hours in making the small dessert. You decided to make heart-shaped cake pops for your friends this year. You were known for being over the top when it comes to giving gifts. After you had dunked the last cake pop into the chocolate coating, you set aside the finished pops and let them harden in the fridge. While waiting for them to harden, you went inside your room and took out another plastic bag that was filled with crafting paper, ribbons and colorful pens. You began cutting the paper into smaller strips and wrote all your friends names that you were going to give to, except for one person.

Peter.

You didn’t write his name on the paper, at least not in these papers. You took out a small envelope from your bedside drawer. The envelope was colored red with black stripes that formed a cob-web design on the envelope. Inside of the envelope was of course a letter. A letter that you wrote for Peter. The idea itself was stupid really, but you actually had written the letter since the beginning of the year. So, although the content of it wasn’t in the context of Valentine’s Day, it still contained your feeling for him. You did consider giving the letter anonymously to him via the student council’s event, but you felt like this was a personal matter you had to deal with, and you knew you had to accept the end result after giving the letter to Peter.

“This is so dumb...” you laid your head against your table, forgetting about the small paper labels that you had cut out. You were starting to hesitate on whether you should give him the letter at all.

“Hey! I got us Chinese food!” You heard your bedroom door opening. You quickly covered your desk and hid the letter in between some books before turning around to see who it was. You let out a sigh of relief as it was only your sister that was standing in front of your door.

“What’s gotten your panties in a twist?” Your sister raised a brow.

“N-nothing, you just shook me that’s all” you finally got up from your chair and went out of the room with your sister following from behind.

“Yeah, says the girl who is literally so love struck that she decided to practice making a dessert for our downstairs neighbor” You stopped in your tracks and glared at your sister.

“You don’t need to bring that up all the time you know!”

“How can I not when I keep telling you that you should tell him! I literally just saw you stare at the letter for a full minute!”

You dropped down to the couch and grabbed the pillow so you could bury your face in embarrassment. She knew you had a crush on Peter, you didn’t have to tell as she had figured it out by herself.

“Now c’mon. Let’s eat before our chow mein is cold”

The sun had already set a long time ago. Peter was finishing up his patrol for today and decided to settled down on a rooftop that was near his apartment building. He looked around if there was anyone around before lifting his mask up halfway to eat a hotdog that a guy had bought him after catching a thief. He was scrolling through his phone before he notices a light coming out of you window. He was you lying down in bed with your sister talking about something while you were wrapping your chocolates for your friends. Peter always looked forward to your homemade chocolate every year. Though, he did wish that his share was something more special to him rather than it being the same with your friend group.

the window was slightly open so bits of your conversation could be heard from it. He knew he shouldn’t listen in, but something your sister said had caught his attention.

“What would you like to get for valentine’s day? y’know other than chocolates of course”

Now this is something Peter needed to hear. He jumped to his apartment building roof and crawled slowly unto a balcony that was above your window.

“I don’t know really; I’ve never gotten anything other than chocolates on valentine’s day-” You tied the last ribbon on the wrapper and placed it inside a paper bag that you were going to bring tomorrow.

“I do really like hand made things though! Like the other day I saw someone make a bouquet of flowers using craft paper. It did seem tedious to do, so I don’t think anyone is willing to make that a day or two before valentine’s day” you said.

“If you think it’s tedious than why think of that?” You sister asked.

“I guess I just like the idea of you know, putting your time and effort to make something. Sure, it might look kind of bad, but it’s the thought that counts, right?” It wasn’t a lie really. You appreciated if someone put all their time and effort to learn and make something as a gift for any occasion. Which is also why you enjoy the look from your friends when they said your baking tastes really good. Especially if it came from Peter.

Peter could only sit down and process everything you said. He knew he didn’t have much more time, as he looked at the time. The sun did just set, so the craft store might still be open. Without thinking, Peter pulled down his mask and swung into action. He was going to be exhausted the next day and the results might not be great, but as you said, it’s the thought that counts.

♡

“Once again, F/N has done it again this year!” MJ cheered as she was holding up the cake pop in her hand. You were handing your cake pops to your friends matching the label.

“Aww, you even labeled them! you’re so extra” Betty screamed as she took out her phone to post in on her Instagram later.

“I mean, I did promise you all I would make them.” you looked around the table and noticed a person, Peter to be specific, missing from the group. You were relieved in your head since you had saved his gift later in your locker.

“By the way, where’s Peter’s share?” Ned spoke. You froze in your spot and turned to Ned. You could tell the others were also thinking the same thing. But for Betty, she could tell.

“I-I actually already gave his share this morning! y’know since we live in the same building and all...”

luckily everyone took the bait, except for Betty. Instead of a bell sound, the speakers in the cafeteria turned on and an announcement came. A student council member you knew was speaking through the speaker to say something about the program.

“For the students who have signed up for the messenger program, your special messages will be delivered after sixth period till the end of school-”

“Well, that me and Y/N’s cue to help out, see you guys later!” Betty kissed Ned on the cheek before dragging you to the library to meet with the other student council members.

While all the other students were in their respective classes, you were tasked with delivering the letters to the students they were for. A part of you hoped that you might find a letter for you, in hopes that maybe Peter had sent you a letter. You erased the thought, since these were mostly anonymous anyway, so there was no way you would know if it was from him or not. This is also assuming if you had gotten any from anyone at all.

“Ok, so you’ll give these set of letters in the first floor along with Tobey and Ariel. As for the second floor-” Betty handed you a stack of letters. You didn’t know how many times you sighed, but you hoped that you wouldn’t go to the class where Peter was in.

Luck was on your side that they, and you the first class you entered didn’t have Peter there. So, there you were, standing in front of the physics class while reading out names in the room to see if they were in the room.

“Is Samantha Lee here?!” you shouted.

As the last student came up to you and took the letter out of glee, you thanked the teacher and left the class. You continued your job as the messenger in different other classes, while passing the other student council members who were delivering their fair share of letters. You left the last class on the floor you were tasked with and saw started walking back to the library where you saw a couple of the members taking a break after delivering the letters, while sharing their stories on how their delivery went.

Your brain went on autopilot and started to drift off into space so you could make up all the good and bad scenarios that would come up when giving your letter to Peter. That was until someone had tapped your shoulder to get your attention. You jumped at the sudden disturbance and turned around in your seat and saw Betty was smiling from ear to ear while having her hands behind her back. The object in her hands was so big that you instantly knew what it was and already had a guess on what she was going to say.

“If your here to only brag about the fact that Ned gave you a giant bouquet of roses as a Valentine’s Day gift while giving me a heart attack in the process, I’m so not in the mood Betty!” You gave a sarcastic laugh to her. But the way Betty’s face changed from a happy one to a confused one, then back again to a happy face made the situation more confusing to you.

“Ok for the record, Ned already gave me his gift to me this morning, so you guessed wrong,” She slowly revealed the ‘bouquet’ from behind her back, her struggle to get the bouquet in front of you showed how big the gift was.

“This is for you! from your not-so-secret admirer!” The last thing you could get from a secret admirer was a letter that was written with only a couple of words saying that they liked you, but this was something you could only dream of.

It was as if an angel had heard your conversation with your sister last night and told someone to make this for you. There in front of you was a bouquet of paper flowers, all in different shapes and sizes. The color of the flowers was a mix of your favorites and you could even see that they tried to make baby breaths into the mix. You really couldn’t believe what was being given to you. You knew you like handcrafted things, but this was just over the top! how long did the person make this? How many days did it take them? Maybe you’re hallucinating. Maybe it was just a prank from Betty and it was actually her and MJ’s effort to cheer you up.

you slowly took the bouquet from Betty’s hands, carefully placing it on your lap and examined the craftmanship of the bouquet. You could tell that some of the folds were giving out due to the glue not being strong enough, and some of the flowers weren’t stuck together since one of them looked like it could fall out from the placement, but you could careless at the imperfections. It was handmade by someone, who did something out of the box and at least tried their best to make it as perfect as possible. your put you lips together to stop a smile from forming, but Betty could clearly see a blush creeping up your face. It seemed like the other student council members noticed the giant gift you had received, so they all teased you for having a secret admirer while also congratulating you for getting a thoughtful gift.

“Wait it doesn’t end their Y/N! They actually told me to give you this as well,” Betty reached her hand inside the bouquet while carefully fishing out a small envelope for you. At this point, you really needed to know who the hell went all the way to get you this kind of gift.

You took the envelope and examined it. For the envelope, there really wasn’t anything special since it looked like all the other envelopes you had given out. You didn’t want to open it in front of the other students, so you excused yourself to go to your locker to open it. You quickly made your way down the hall and arrived at your locker. you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of having someone make this for you. The locker wasn’t opening with how you were rushing to get the combination right while you were giggling to yourself. Finally, the locker opened and you placed your bouquet inside. You calmed your beating heart for a moment before you opened the letter. The glue that was holding the flap of the envelope was tacky, so it was an easy peel for you to open. Finally, the letter was in your hands. You unfolded the letter and read the letter in excitement and curiosity. You were finally going to find out who gave you such a wonderful gift, only to find an instruction on the paper.

Happy Valentine’s Day! I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, but there was no way I was going to tell you the most important thing to me in the form of a writing. So, come meet me in front of Delmar’s and Deli and Grill shop and I’ll pick you up!

-S.M

Okay, as if you didn’t know your brain could even get any more confused, this letter with the anonymous name just made your brain explode both in confusion and frustration. Now you had to wait till the end of the school day to go to some sandwich shop and wait for your admirer to pick you up. You slipped the paper in between your notebook. You could pry the answer out of Betty since she must’ve known who it was that sent the gift, but a part of you like the idea of having known nothing of the person that sent you it, and the excitement of being surprised made you want the school day to be over.

Fortunately, it was almost last period and you didn’t have any club activities. After the student council members finished their break, you all continued to deliver the messages and gifts to students all over school. You were full of energy as you quickly delivered your messages to the students as to not waste any time once it was time for the meet up.

♡

The end of the school day was finally here. You dashed to your locker to get your stuff and the bouquet and dashed out the door. You gained a lot of looks from some students since you were in a hurry, and also the fact that you were carrying a giant bouquet of paper flowers with you. You were sure that you got glares from some of the girls since they were jealous of your gift, but none of that mattered right now.

Finally, after a going down the subway station and arriving at the designated shop. You stopped in your tracks and looked around, hoping that the person was already there waiting for you. You looked around, but saw no one approaching you. You fixed your slightly messy hair due to the marathon you did and dusted your skirt just to make sure it was perfect. The weather was still kind of cold, so you wore your black stockings under your skirt. Your sister told you it was dumb to wear a skirt in this weather, but you figured today was a special day, so you thought it would be nice to dress up a bit. You did curse yourself for not following your sister’s advice, but the fact that you were going to meet your special someone was worth it.

Five minutes had passed, and there was no sign of anyone coming your way. Maybe this was all a prank someone had pulled, you thought. you thought that maybe Betty gave you someone else’s gift and you were another messenger for them. All these negative scenarios had formed in your head, preparing for the worst-case scenario. Your shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. You were about to turn the other way and go home, until you heard a familiar name being called out.

“Hey Spider-Man!” You looked up to the sky and followed the direction of the phones people were recording with. The neighborhood superhero was swinging from building to building, and the direction he was swinging at made you tear up a bit.

The closer he was getting, the more your heat beat sped up as if it was preparing for a marathon. You instinctively held up your arms the best as you could with the bouquet in your hands still. Right on cue, Peter picked you up from the ground and swung you both away. You held on as best as you could so that Peter could still swing with ease with all the stuff you had. If you were focusing on the ground, the view of the neighborhood from above wasn’t something you didn’t see every day and you would’ve appreciated it. Right now, however, your mind could only focus on the fact that the person who sent you the gift was the person who you’ve wanted this whole time.

Peter finally settled you on your apartment building and took his mask off after making sure no one was around. His face was also the same shade as yours, accompanied with a nervous but goofy smile. You tried to cover yourself with the bouquet, but you knew you couldn’t stop looking at him while waiting for either of you to say something.

“So, d-do you like your gift? I-I know it looks kind of weird and has a lot wrinkly bits, but I really hope you like it...”

you took a step closer to Peter and looked at his eyes that were sincere and full of love. You took one of the flowers that was on the verge of falling off from the bouquet and placed it between your ear before speaking.

“Well, before I answer that question, let me ask you something,”

Peter swallowed his saliva in anticipation and nervousness.

“How did you come up with this gift? and also how long did it take to make it?” You raised a brow while admiring his work in your hands. Peter put his lips into a tight line and rubbed the back of his neck. The share of red still painting his face while trying to think of a way to answer.

“I may or may not have listened in to your conversation with you sister last night...” Your eyes went wide at his answer. Last night? that meant-

“You only made this last night?!” Peter fiddled with his mask while looking down at his foot. the gesture gave you away the answer to your question. You felt touched by his intentions and dedication to make the gift for you.

“Was it... hard? you know, since you had to make all these tiny flowers and the whole wrapper overnight...”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe how many times I had to replay that video over and over again to try and get those baby breaths right!” You both laughed at his words. You could already imagine the scenario in your head and the frustrated look he had on his face while trying to make the flowers.

You opened your mouth to say something, only to close it again fearing that you were just assuming things. Lucky for Peter, he noticed.

“If you want to say something, just say it. I think I know what you’re about to say...” Peter reached out to grab your hand in his and squeezed it, giving you affirmation to say what you wanted to say. Instead of saying what you wanted to say, you shuffled around your bag to find the red envelope you had wanted to give to him.

Peter saw the red envelope and took it from you. He looked at you to ask if it was ok to open it now. You nodded your head and watched as he opened the envelope as quickly as possible. You turned around and face the other way so that you wouldn’t have to see the expression on Peter’s face when he read it.

Dear Peter Parker,

I remember the first time we met. We were both on top of our apartment building, wanting to just have time for ourselves from the world. Wanting just a moment of silence to ourselves. Only the difference was that I was bawling my eyes out because I had a bad day. You, who were a stranger at the time went up to me. You didn’t know who I was, but you were always one to look out for the little guy. Months passed and we became close. Especially, after that one night you opened the wrong window and crashed at my bed.

From then on, you trusted me with you secret. I always wondered if you came to me because I was closest to your place, or it was because of something more. Nevertheless, I enjoyed those moment where you would come to me for refuge after a long night.

Though, even before I knew you were Spider-Man, I knew you were someone I would want to keep close to my heart. It seems like I kept you too close to my heart, that you took it from me. I would ask you to give it back, but I actually prefer it this way. I know I look like a coward for saying this through my writing but I hope you can answer my question in front of me, whether it is an answer I am hoping for, or an answer that will make me look like a fool.

Peter Parker, would you let me keep your heart?

Peter could hear your heart beating fast as you waited for his answer. The only thing you didn’t know was that his heart was beating as fast as yours. He could even mistake it as if your hearts were both in sync. He folded back the letter and took a step closer to you slowly. His hand finding a way to your opposite cheek, which made your turn around. Your eyes were closed, in fear that he was going to respond to your question in a way that would make your heart break. If it wasn’t for his suit, your face would’ve literally burned his skin if it could. Instead of hearing a rejection from him, you could feel a warmth sensation in your lips.

You knew what this was. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know that Peter was kissing you which was also the answer you were anticipating. You dropped the bouquet to the floor and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter followed your movement and placed his hand on your hips to deepen the kiss. After a minute or two, you both finally pulled away, the color red never leaving your face from the beginning.

“I take it that your answer is yes...?” Peter chuckled.

He leaned his head forward and placed his forehead on your own while giving you his signature goofy smile.

“I do say, you have a way with words princess,” It was your turn to laugh at his comment.

“Princess? So now were moving on to the nick name phase huh?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it! well I mean I do mean it, but if you don’t want that then that’s ok too-” You placed your lips on his again, it was a quick one, but it was sure to shut him up for a bit.

“I don’t mind Peter. In fact, I like it” Now you were the bold one by linking your hands with his and giving him a sincere smile. Peter could only stare back at you and smile along with you.

“So, does this mean we’re together-together now?”

You made a humming sound before answering him.

“We are, if you properly answer the question from my letter”

Peter gave your hand one last squeeze before letting it go and picking up the paper bouquet that was on the floor. He stretched his arm out as if he was going to give you the bouquet again and answered your question that was going to really seal the deal.

“Yes Y/N, you can keep my heart forever, as I will keep yours forever!”

Your stretched your hand out to take out the flower from him, but he suddenly retracted his hand back and put his hands on his hips.

"Hey, I know you gave me a letter and all that contained your undying love for me, but I remembered that you made a promise to me that you would give me and our friends your home-made chocolates..."

Peter gave you an open palm and motioned his fingers in a curling motion, telling you that he wanted something.

"So, where's mine?"

"Oh, so that's what this was about! You come here giving me a paper bouquet, send me an anonymous letter, make me wait five minutes might I add," You folded your arms and turned the other way.

"AND, I had decided to tell you my true feelings through my letter, which I will say I am a GREAT POET for an amateur! and NOW your asking for V-day chocolates, smooth parker, smooth"

You made a huff sound, making it sound like you were angry, but really you were teasing him

"Oh come one Y/N, you know that's not what I meant!" Peter moved to the other side so you could see him in front of you.

You playfully looked at your fingernails while replying.

"Gee, I don't know Peter, guess I might have to re-think this whole dating thing between us..." You gave him a playful smirk.

You left him speechless for a bit before deciding to leave him on the rooftop and head towards the stairs. Peter finally went back to reality and jogged up to you.

"C'mon! I was joking!! Y/N? Princess?? BABE?! Wait up!"

[aquanova99]

Peace of Mind (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Part 4

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A/N: Sorry for taking so long with another update! Please let me know if there are any grammatical or spelling errors I’ll try and clean them up! I just never proof read because then I will hate what I write.

A/N: thank you so much for still keeping up with the story, I appreciate you more than you know. As always requests are open and reblogs are appreciated 💛

Y/N POV

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t move. Not really. The second you tried to run would end your very very short life. You had to stall.

“Well? don’t you want to know what that dog did to get you into this mess?”

“Yeah actually, i mean I know he’s dumb. But I didn’t think he was dumb enough to actually try anything with a large— what are you guys called family, cult?”

Kate’s smirk never left her face, “Hmm, Well aren’t you a smart human. Tanya would have liked you. Unfortunately, while we were all hunting that mutt over there decided to attack my sister.”

Her expression turned to stone. Finally matching the rest of her body. Still, you could feel her pain. She was really grieving, instinctually you reached over and rested your hand on her arm. She eyed you up and down as if curious.

“Look I really am sorry. The only reason I’m here is because he was trying to get me and some other girls as revenge for the pack not hunting down the cullens. I have nothing to do with this.”

She sighed, “I know. But those dogs need to know to mess with me. It’s a shame you’re the one who’s going to be sending that message.”

You felt yourself frozen again, it became hard to swallow. You could hear your heart hammering in your chest. Apparently, so could she. The mischievous grin made another appearance on her face.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make this quick.” Her head snapped up, “ugh that mutt is making this difficult.”

Suddenly she pulled you closer to her, “I’ll be honest you reek of that guy. You really could do so much better.” It was incredible how you could barely form any coherent thoughts. Her lips were dangerously close to yours, her hand traced your face. Before you could even blink you felt her teeth on your neck.

Suddenly all you could feel fire. You tried to scream but all you nothing came out. At least you didn’t think you did, who knew. Your mind flashed to the time you and Paul both decided to eat the hottest peppers you could find and eat a bite. If you could have you would have laughed at yourself back then. Naively thinking there was nothing that could too the burning. Your mind focused back on Kate still on you, you vision was getting blurry. Suddenly you felt a chunk of your flesh being ripped off. You were vaguely aware of Kate no longer being on top of you.

“KATE. Stop!”

You couldn’t make out the voice. Now that the weight of the vampire wasn’t on you, the pain reached a whole new level. You could hear the screams leaving your body as you curled into yourself in that backseat of the car. You tried to focus on anything else. Your mind flashing through bits and pieces of your life. Everytime a memory seemed to fade, the pain hit you like a ton of bricks again. When Paul’s face appeared in your thoughts you out everything you had on focusing on him. His smile was the last thing you saw as your vision went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Paul’s POV

“Paul. It’s Carlisle.”

“He’s here? Did you call Jacob?”

“He’s—he’s here too.”

“Sam?” Emily caught onto what he was saying before I did.

“What? What is it?” You could hear your voice start wavering

Sam and Emily seemed to have a silent conversation before Emily Emily gasped and left the room.

“Sam. What the hell is going on?”

“Just… come on.”

You followed him out of the house. You hadn’t been able to sleep this past few days, and you needed a break. Carlisle car was beginning to pull up. You started to head down to meet him but Sam put a hand on your shoulder to stop you. Your worry began to rise again. Carlisle stepped out of his car first, you couldn’t help it you began walking towards him you knew y/n was there. You were almost running now.

You froze in your tracks when you saw Jacob come out carrying a bloodied y/n.

“Paul I’m- I’m so sorry.”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Jacob kept his eyes trained on the ground. “We… we were attacked. I could only take one at a time.”

You looked over at the blond ones reaction, his face told you everything you needed to know. You gritted your teeth as you spoke “You’re lying.”

“Paul…”

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!” Your body was shaking. You had to relax, who knew how long it would take for you to phase back. Sam came to take y/n.

“I’m going to kill you, I swea—“

“Paul. You need to focus on y/n right now. We’ll deal with him later.” Sam promised

Your eyes had begun filling themselves with tears. You saw Jacob take a few steps back and before you could blink. Carlisle grabbed the back of his neck and pushed him forward. You’d never seen him look angry, even at that confrontation he had wanted to talk it out with the creepy cloak wearing guys. When you were back inside Sam handed y/n to you. Holding her limp body broke you.

You buried your face in her hair. Your body wracked with sobs. Sam kept everyone at a distance. Still worried about your phasing, you didn’t have it in you. You couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. You were supposed to protect her and you’d failed. You could hear Sam and Carlisle talking in hushed tones, you should be able to hear what they were saying but you couldn’t focus. All you could do was cradle y/n and rock her. When she got sick she would always want you to hold her like that. You told yourself she could still wake up.

“Please baby, please. Please.” You kept repeating it over and over. Suddenly you felt a cold hand on your shoulder.

“Paul, there’s something you should know. Can you focus?”

Not entirely but you still nodded.

Carlisle took a deep breath, “I need you to listen. Do you hear anything?”

Your breath got caught in your throat. You looked back down at y/n. You still could barely focus on anything. Then you saw her chest rising. They were shallow breaths. If you looked away you might have missed it. It was like she was struggling to breathe. You ordered your ears to listen for something you had been sure seconds ago you’d never hear again. A heartbeat. Slow. And getting slower. You looked back up at the doctor.

“I couldn’t get to her in time.”

You couldn’t speak.

“I’m going to need to get her away from here before she wakes up.”

You found yourself shaking your head. You just got her back. A million questions were running through your head but the only word that came was “how?”

Carlisle turned to glare at Jacob. The rest of the pack was beginning to file into Sams place. When Jacob said nothing Carlisle spoke again,

“It seems that in his efforts to find Renesme. Jacob ran into my extended family while they were hunting dear. All I know is that now Tanya is dead. Her sister was furious at him and when she got his scent along with y/ns. Well she—she wanted to send a message. She thought y/n and Jacob were close. She wanted the pack to know not to mess with her family again.”

A million thoughts were racing in your head. Every negative emotion bubbling to the surface. No, just one. Rage. First, at the bloodsucker who did this. At yourself for not listening to that gut feeling she was talking about. Then at Carlisle for not being able to save her. Finally at Jacob. If had kept his fucking nose out of places it didn’t belong none of this would have happened. You weren’t going to move from y/n until you had to. But when you did, well he better start running now.

You looked at him straight in the face, “I’m going to kill you.”

“I never wanted to…”

“Shut up. and GET OUT.” He didn’t say another. He turned and left the house. Everyone was staring at you. You could feel the pity in their eyes. You didn’t care. You stared back at Carlisle.

“Cant you suck the venom out? Didn’t you save Bella? I thought you saved Bella once like that.”

“Paul if I did that she would be dead. Look at how much blood is all over her. There’s nothing left. It’s either this or…”

He didn’t have to say it. She was either dead or she would become a bloodsucker. You probably seemed crazy when a chuckle escaped you. She had always said we were too harsh in them, now she’s going to become one. Someone who would always be a danger to the pack and the rest of the people on the reservation. She could always turn into Carlisle but from what you had heard that had taken him ages. His family still struggled with it.

Still. You couldn’t help but be grateful that there was still a chance that she would be in your life. Would it be the same? Would your imprint be broken? Wouldn’t it be broken already? God what was happening right now?

“Paul.” Carlisle’s voice snapped you back to reality. You looked at him, his lips were in a tight line. “I need to get her off the reservation. It’s been half a day, she may wake up in the next day and a half and she needs to have all that blood washed off her. I can take her to our old house. Once she’s fed on some deer we can meet at the boundary line.”

Emily suddenly showed up again. Her face puffy from crying. You were suddenly hyper aware of Jared outside of the house trying to calm down a sobbing Kim. Someone else to add to the list of people who could have stopped this. You didn’t care if you were being unreasonable. Anyone who saw y/n that day had somehow contributed to this. You felt yourself squeeze her a little closer to you. You couldn’t let her go again.

“Paul, I’ll help wash everything off.” Emily came up to you. For whatever reason you looked at Carlisle as if you were asking if that was okay. He just gave you a quick nod. Emily led you to the bathroom and the two you silently got to work. You thought you would be able to handle it but the second you where she had been bitten you began to cry all over again. You never felt so useless in your life. Emily just rubbed your back as you gripped the bathtub to try and calm yourself.

It didn’t work but you kept pushing through to make sure no blood was left on her. The bathroom looked like a crime scene by the end of it, dirty towels everywhere and the tub stained. Emily assured you it was fine and you went to re meet Carlisle. There were no words exchanged, he just gently picked her up and ran back towards Forks.

As you watched him disappear with y/n, the realization that you would never really see her again set in. Your imprint was gone. You could have puked. Instead you looked towards Billy’s house and your feet moved on their own accord. He could have searched himself. He could have moved on. But he decided to try and get even with anyone else who had an imprint. For whatever reason y/n had been the one to pay for his ego. Now it was his turn.

You were going to get avenge y/n, dammit. Jacob Black is going to have hell to pay.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @artaxerxesthegreat @avyannadawn @aunt-pipie @imtoanonymousforyou @lacychick @minghao3o @quarthly @raindancer2004 @venusdelaroix @volturiwolf @xcastawayherosx @jelly-fishy-babie @fiftyshadesgrl @cole22ann @i-have-found-amazing-fanfics @itzz-me-duh @louisianalady @lendeluxe @happymoon16

[pan-fangirl-345]

Books Bring People Together

Summary: A frustrated and stuck Kaminari comes to you for help, and it somehow blooms into something else along the way.

TW: I made Kaminari ADHD, so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong, I went off what my ADHD friends do and what a medical site told me. I myself am not ADHD, so again, I apologize if there's anything wrong with this. Small swears, and Mineta, which should be a warning in and of itself.

A/N: I have had this half-baked idea stuck in my head for months and I wanted it out, so I am giving you all this!

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked, sliding into the chair across from you at the common room table.

"Sure, what's up?" you asked, setting your pencil down on the paragraph you were reading.

"Um, this is kind of embarrassing," Kaminari admitted. "But, um, I'm having a really hard time with English right now, and I know that you're right behind Bakugou in grades."

"Where are you going with this Kaminari?" you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

You had heard things about Kaminari, and after meeting Mineta and knowing that Kaminari hung around with him, you didn't have the best impression of him. You had just been placed in Class 2-A, and so far you had mostly hung around with what the other students were calling the 'Dekusquad'.

"I need someone to tutor me," he admitted. "Normally English isn't all that hard for me, but Shakespeare is whack and I don't understand half of it."

"You want me," you started, "to tutor you. Why not ask Bakugou? Isn't he your friend?"

"Yeah, but . . . Bakugou has . . . harsh methods, and I need someone who won't treat me like an idiot," Kaminari confessed.

"Alright," you relented. "Why don't we get started now? Do you have anything going on?"

"No, this takes precedent," Kaminari said, rushing to grab his things.

"Alright, here's my question for you," you said when he propped his book open. "Why don't you understand?" You saw the look on his face change and you winced. "Sorry, sometimes I have a hard time controlling the tone of my voice. Let me rephrase that question." You paused for a moment, thinking of the right words before you said, "What about this don't you understand? What's the one thing about this that trips you up?"

"The formatting for one thing," Kaminari grumbled. "Why the hell is printed like that?"

You chuckled, brushing hair out of your face. You had thought the same thing the first time you had read Shakespeare.

"Alright, how about you just read, and then you can ask me any questions while I work on my own stuff, alright?"

"That sounds like it might work," he admitted.

"If that doesn't work, feel free to let me know," you told him. "This is about what helps you remember the material better."

"No, like I said, normally this is really easy for me," Kaminari said. "Let's try it."

"Alright, and remember, if you have any questions, I'm right here."

"Thanks (Y/L/N)," he mumbled.

"Of course, I wouldn't be much of a hero if I couldn't help people, right?" you mused, smiling at him.

"R-Right!" he chirped, grinning back at you.

You both worked in silence for a little bit before Kaminari leaned back in his chair, rubbing at him eyes.

"You okay?" you asked.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm ADHD, so sitting still and trying to read this is a little hard," he confessed. "And I might be dyslexic, I've never been tested but sometimes reading is hard for me."

You frowned, biting the inside of your lip, running the situation through your head.

"What if I read it to you?" you asked, looking up from your chemistry homework.

"How? It's a play," Kaminari said.

"I used to be in a drama club in middle school," you told him. "It's set up like a script, or if we don't have the energy to act it out, it's not hard to pretend that it's a regular story."

Kaminari stared at you for a moment before he nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I think that might work a little bit better than me staring at the same paragraph for fifteen minutes without actually reading anything."

"What part are you on?" you asked Kaminari, moving to glance over his shoulder at the page.

"Portia is trying to convince Brutus to tell her what's going on in her house. I think."

"Oh, I adore this part," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "Alright, what has you stuck?"

"This part. 'I grant I am a woman; but withal A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. Think you I am no stronger than my sex, Being so father'd and so husbanded? Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: I have made strong proof of my constancy, Giving myself a voluntary wound Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. And not my husband's secrets?' I don't entirely understand what she's saying."

Wow, English must've been his thing, he didn't mess up a single word, and he was able to read it fairly fluently, everything considered. It might have taken him a little longer than normal, but he had nailed it.

"Okay, so she's basically telling Brutus that she won't tell his secrets if he tells her what's going on, it doesn't matter if she's a woman or not."

"What was with the voluntary wound thing?"

"So, it depends. Sometimes, in plays, the women playing Portia will have a fake knife and stab themselves in the thigh, other times they pretend to slice themselves, depends on the director," you told him. "She basically cut herself on the thigh and said, 'If I can handle this I can handle whatever's going on inside your head.' Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but damn, this woman is a badass," Kaminari said, staring down at the pages."

"Right? Some people read that as psychotic, but it's Shakespeare," you told him, "everything in Shakespeare is psychotic to some extent."

"That's fair. Thank you for explaining that to me," he said.

"Of course, that is why you came to me," you replied, laying a hand on his shoulder for a moment before you moved back to your seat.

Kaminari, despite the things you had heard, was actually quite intelligent, it just took him a little longer to get the answer sometimes.

"Thank you so much for helping me," Kaminari murmured. "You were super helpful."

"Of course, I actually enjoyed helping you," you told him. "And if you need any more help, please, let me know."

"I will, thank you so much (Y/L/N)," Kaminari repeated.

"Have a good night Kaminari," you told him.

"You too!" he chirped before he headed up to his room.

You sat down at the table again, staring at the chemical formula in front of you.

So, if zinc only had one charge, positive two, and it was combined with thiosulfate, that meant that there shouldn't be the need for two of the zinc atoms, they would make the charge neutral.

You wrote the answer down, checking the textbook to make sure you were right. Polyatomic ions were a little more complicated than monoatomic ions.

There were only a few more questions, and then you could go to bed too, and you just hoped that there were no trick questions.

You were the last one in the common room, as usual, despite assuring Iida that you were right behind him when he went to bed an hour ago.

"Alright (Y/F/N), time for some good sleep," you muttered, shutting your book and gathering your supplies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been tutoring Kaminari for about six weeks, and he was definitely smarter than people gave him credit for. Sometimes he just needed a few minutes to think, or he needed something explained to him in a different way than everyone else.

Sero had been joining your little tutoring sessions too, and you had started doing them in Sero's room, since there were things Kaminari could mess with while he studied, and it was an environment where he didn't feel the need to prove himself.

"Hey, (Y/L/N), can you help me with this problem?" Sero asked, waving you over.

"Of course, what are we working on?" you inquired.

"Polyatomic ions, again," Sero said. "I need this extra credit."

"Alright, which one are you stuck on?"

"How do I figure out which Roman numeral goes here? Gold has multiple charges."

"You work backwards," you told him. "When you look at the formula, you need to figure out what charge dihydrogen phosphate has."

You gestured to the chemical formula.

"It has a negative one charge. Right?" Sero inquired, checking the list of common ions that the teacher had given them at the beginning of the unit.

"Right, and you have three of those ions, right?"

"Yeah, because there's a subscripted three outside the parentheses."

"So you have three of those, which means that those three together have a negative three charge."

"Right."

"So now you just have to figure out which gold variant has the right charge to cancel that one out."

"Well, there's only one gold atom, so it's gold three right?"

"Bingo, you got it."

"Oh, that makes it so much easier than what I was doing," he muttered, erasing the math he had been doing, writing down the way you had just shown him.

"(Y/L/N), can you come read through this essay for me?" Kaminari asked. "I think it's okay, but I need another eye on this."

"Sure, hand it over," you told him, taking the papers that he had handed to you.

You grabbed one of your signature blue pens and uncapped it, ready to mark anything you thought he could do better.

There wasn't as much as you were expecting. While Kaminari had a hard time interpreting things, once he understood, he was golden. He had a way with words, you noticed as you scanned through the paper he needed to hand in next class. You assumed that it gave him time to think about the right phrasing of things.

Other than a few grammatical and spelling errors, the paper was well written, and there was nothing major that needed fixing.

"Good job Kami, this is really good," you told him, ruffling his hair lightly.

He responded well to physical affection and praise, you had also noticed, and he made it easy.

Once you got past the typical shield he threw up, he was a nice guy with insecurities, just like everyone else.

He chuckled, leaning into your hand.

You noticed that the others didn't touch Kaminari as much as you did, despite having known him for much longer. They were worried about getting shocked, Sero had told you.

"Why though? He's never shocked me," you had told him.

"He can't control it sometimes, it builds up in his body and it needs an out."

"Well, that still no reason to stop touching him," you had mused. "If he shocks me he shocks me, it's really no big deal."

Kaminari had only shocked you once, during a thunderstorm when there had been a lot of lightning outside. He had gotten excited about getting a 90 on one of his tests, and had hugged you, giving you a slight shock.

He had apologized profusely, but you had waved his apologies off.

"It's okay Kaminari," you told him. "It happens to all of us sometimes."

You were finding yourself thinking about him more than you should've. You had become good friends with both him and Sero, and the other students had started coming to you when they had a question, but Kaminari was a little different.

It had started out with the flirty comments, but slowly those had turned into real compliments. He had been keeping Mineta away from you more and more, and he had even started laying off the perving with the grape rat.

He was a good guy, he really was, despite the playboy attitude. He was sweet, and he was just like every other person in the world.

"Thanks for tutoring us both," Kaminari said as the session was coming to a close.

"Yeah, you're really saving our asses," Sero agreed.

"Of course, come to me any time," you told them both, smiling as you made to head back to your own room.

"Hey, um, (Y/L/N), can I ask you something?" Kaminari asked.

"Sure. You know how much I love questions," you teased, smiling at him. Then you noticed his expression. "Kami?"

"Will . . . will you-" he chuckled awkwardly, messing with the seam of his pant leg. "Can you read something to me?"

"Yeah, of course," you said. "What is it?"

He handed you the book, and you smiled.

"My dad used to read this to me when I was little. I think that's why I love books so much," you admitted. "That was before . . . well, it doesn't matter now. Come on, we can head down to the common room if you want. Or your room, it doesn't really matter to me."

You had visited Kaminari's room on more than one occasion to return things to him, he tended to be a little forgetful, and he had often left things with you.

Despite the fact that everything you had learned about society told you that you should avoid being alone in a room with a boy, you trusted Kaminari enough to be alone in a room with him.

"I really like to read too," he confessed. "But sometimes my brain doesn't like to let me do it."

"I understand, it's okay," you told him, touching his arm lightly. "Are you sure that you'll be able to sit still long enough for me to get through any of it?"

Kaminari, after spending so much time with you over the last few weeks, had figured out how your voice worked, and he rarely got offended by your tone of voice anymore, which you were thankful for.

"Yeah, I like the sound of your voice, it helps calm me down. I think I might pay attention more if you read it to me."

"Alright, sure, let's go," you said, holding the book to your chest.

You knew this book like the back of your hand, and you had a feeling that Kaminari was telling the truth when he said he would be able to pay attention.

Kaminari followed you into the common room of the dorms, trailing just slightly behind, but he was in front of you the moment Mineta tried to get to you.

It amazed you how fast he could move sometimes, when he really wanted to.

"Get lost Mineta," you said. "I have nothing to say to you."

Mineta opened his mouth but a raised brow from Kaminari had him shutting it and heading to his own room so he could think his pervy thoughts in peace.

"I can't believe I was ever friends with that perv," Kaminari whispered. "I think I owe a lot of the girls apologies."

Kaminari glanced over his shoulder, and you smiled at him, linking your hands together.

You were proud of him, he had really grown lately, and you were glad that he was seeing how uncomfortable he had made the girls.

"I'm proud of you," you told him, and he beamed.

He responded well to praise, and being told that he had done a good job.

"Come on, we'll have to go to bed soon if we don't want Iida to lecture us again," you said, sitting down on one of the couches.

Kaminari sat down next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder as your propped the book open.

You didn't mind the fact that Kaminari was a little clingy, the contact was nice, and he always radiated warmth, though whether that was his normal body temperature or he ran hot because of his quirk, you didn't know.

You started the book off, barely having to look at the words as you read, changing your voice as necessary, stopping every once in a while to explain a word to Kaminari that he didn't understand, or to answer a question that he had.

It was nice, spending time with him like this, simply because he wanted to, not because he was going to fail a subject.

Somehow he had ended up with his head on your thighs, and you had one hand buried in his hair, brushing it away from his face, your fingers carding through it softly.

He was making a content noise in the back of his throat, and you smiled down at him, finishing up a chapter.

"Do you want to go to bed?" you asked softly, not wanting to disturb him too much, he had enough trouble sleeping as it was.

He hummed softly, leaning into your hands, and you smiled down at him softly.

You had never been one for crushes, they had seemed pointless, and there had never been a person who had caught your attention like this.

You had thought about it, of course, what it would be like to be in a relationship, but you had never thought that you would have to worry about it.

Well now you were worrying about it.

That nameless, faceless person that had been with you in those daydreams was starting to look frighteningly like Kaminari.

You had panicked when it had first started happening, until you realized that it would probably fade. You had had a friend in middle school who had a new crush every week, and you had assumed that it would fade with time.

It hadn't. That uneasiness that had popped up around him slowly melted into a nice warmth whenever he was close. You had started to stop worrying about whether he would like this, or hate that, and had started to show your true colors.

He had seemed to like you even more when you had started doing that, and you were glad.

But the only bad thing was that now you were noticing other things. His hands lingered a little longer than necessary when he helped you during training, his smile always seemed brighter when you made him laugh. His eyes always seemed to follow you around the common room, and he sometimes appeared at your side when you walked in.

You weren't sure if you just overthinking things or if he might like you back.

But this wasn't a simple crush anymore. You weren't sure what it was. It was a little too early to be love (even though it was just a rush of chemicals in the brain meant for human survival), but it was way past a simple crush.

Was there another step between a crush and love? Was this going to end with your heart breaking? Was there even a chance that he might like you back?

These were things that you kept in the back of your mind until you were alone in your room. Worrying about them in his presence made him worry about you, and you didn't want him to worry about you if he didn't need to.

"Kami, seriously, you need to go to bed."

"If I do, so do you," he told you, making you chuckle.

"I'll go to bed if you will. You are in my lap after all," you teased, pulling your hands away.

"That's fair," he murmured, stifling a yawn.

"Go to bed Kami," you whispered, standing up as soon as your legs were free.

They had fallen asleep a while ago, but you hadn't had the heart to move him.

"Alright," he mumbled, stumbling towards his dorm room.

You smiled softly, heading for yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't sure what woke you up hours later. Maybe it was the three glasses of water you had drank before bed, or maybe it was the fact that your brain hated you almost as much as Kaminari's hated him.

You stretched, pulling a hoodie on over the tank top and shorts that you had gone to bed in, heading for the common room.

You weren't going back to bed any time soon, so you might as well get some studying done with a nice cup of tea or something.

You were almost surprised to see Kaminari sitting at the common room table with his books out.

"Denki? What are you doing?" you mumbled, wandering over.

"(Y/L/N)? What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you murmured, plopping into the seat next to him.

"Couldn't sleep, my brain went into overdrive the minute I tried to fall asleep."

"I at least got a good four or five hours in," you replied. "But it's Friday night, I should be sleeping in."

"What woke you up?" he asked, laying a hand on your thigh.

Kaminari, you had noticed, liked having his hands on you.

Not in the perverted way you had expected though. He liked having a hand on your thigh or on the small of your back. He liked an arm around your shoulders or his arm linked with yours when you all took class outings. He liked being close to you.

"No idea. It might've been a nightmare," you admitted. "I remember faint flashes, but it might've been something else."

"Are you going to be able to go back to bed?"

"Nah, I'll be up for a good while," you told him, leaning into his shoulder.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"Can you just . . . talk to me?" you inquired. "I like listening to you talk about things. Calms me down."

"What do you want to know about?"

"Anything. Everything. You."

"Did you know that I have a cat named Marshmellow?"

"What? No," you said, perking up a little bit. You had always been an animal person.

"Yeah. He's the spawn of the devil, but I didn't know that when I named him. All white, pretty blue eyes. Pure fucking evil," Kaminari told you, taking his phone out to show you a photo.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, he absolutely despises me," Kaminari said, handing his phone over to you. "Loves my sister though, so he isn't a complete psychopath."

"He's a cat, can animals even be psychopaths?" you asked, moving your seat closer to his.

"No idea, but it wouldn't surprise me if he is," Kaminari said, chuckling.

"You're right, he is pretty," you murmured, flipping through the photos quickly.

Kaminari hummed, but when you glanced up he was looking at you.

He had that look on his face, the look that he sometimes got when he looked at you. It was one of the reasons you wondered if he liked you or not. He looked like he was in pain when gave you that look.

"Denki?" you inquired softly.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Like you're in pain? Like you're hurt?" you asked.

You didn't like the way your voice sounded. That little hint of insecurity snuck in, your voice had that clogged sound it got when you tried not to cry.

You weren't sure whether you could handle his response to that, but you needed to know if being around you caused him pain. You needed to know if there was any chance that he hated being in your presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kaminari's POV)

Pain, huh?

Yeah, this was definitely pain, seeing her like this, swaddled in a hoodie he had left in her room accidently a week ago, covering her shorts, making her legs look a mile long.

He had tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the feeling in his chest every time he looked at her, tried to ignore the blatant male pride that came with seeing her draped in his hoodie, but he was only human after all.

Denki, after spending so much time with a girl that didn't tend to pull her punches, he knew how uncomfortable he had made the girls with all of his comments. He now knew how it made them feel when he said some of the things he had.

Denki never wanted her or any of the other girls to feel like that again, and he wanted to ignore some of the things that were running through his head, but she was making it hard when she looked at him like that, when she said his name the way that she just had.

"Denks?" she asked softly, moving to get a better look at his face.

Denki had never had a crush, not a real one anyway. He had had his eyes on Jirou first year, but that had been fleeting.

He was flirty, it was just his nature, but this feeling whenever he looked at her . . . that was completely new on him.

"Denki, are you okay?" she asked, putting her hands on his face lightly, making him look at her.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Denki asked, placing his hands over hers. "I wasn't sure whether you felt the same way and I didn't want to mess anything up."

"Denki? What are you saying?" she asked, eyes bright with hope as she looked at him, running her thumb over his cheek softly, almost absentmindedly.

"I like you, (Y/F/N), I like you a lot, and this isn't some . . . three A.M. spur of the moment confession, but . . . it kind of is. The point is that you're smart, and all kinds of gorgeous, and there's so many things about you I wish I could list, but words aren't my thing, and I know that I'm rambling, but I really can't stop 'cause I'm terrified of what your response is gonna be and I don't want to fuck anything up and-"

"Denki," she cut in, smiling at him the way she did when she was fondly exasperated with him. "You have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. I like you too."

"Why?"

Even Denki was surprised by the amount of confusion in his own voice.

"Because you're a dork," she stated. "Because you're smart, even if people don't always see it right away. Because you want to be a hero, because you like to make a difference. Because in the end, you're a good guy, when you get past the playboy attitude and shitty pickup lines. Because you're cute and all kinds of soft. Because apparently I have a thing for hyperactive morons with screwed up hair."

"Rude," he muttered, but she smiled at him even wider, and he knew that it was worth it.

"Am I wrong?" she asked softly, swinging her legs around to get closer to him.

"No, but that doesn't mean that I'm happy about it," he mumbled, pouting slightly.

She gave a small giggle, something that rarely happened, and Denki smiled, wide and unburdened.

"So, what do you say about going on a date?" he asked, tucking her hair behind her ear to get a better look at his face.

"I think that's the smartest thing you've ever said to me," she teased.

Denki pouted again and she touched his nose lightly, making it crinkle in response.

"That wasn't a no," she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck softly.

"You know, this looks good on you," he whispered, touching the hem of the hoodie carefully. "And it looks very familiar."

"It does?" She pulled away to look down at it and her eyes went wide. "I didn't even know it was yours. I just threw it on on my way down here. When did you even . . . .?"

"I left in there like a week ago," Denki informed her. "I thought you had just kept it."

"I didn't know it was in there," she admitted. "But I'm not sorry that I'm in it, it's very comfortable."

"We can share custody," he murmured.

"We'll have to," she agreed. "I don't think I can deal with never wearing this again. You actually have good taste in hoodies."

"Why are you so surprised by this?" he asked.

"Because most of the time your style seems all over the place," she replied. "But that's not a bad thing. It makes you unique."

"Normal is overrated."

"A normal sleep schedule is not," she said, standing up. She grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we can chill in my room if you want to."

"You aren't nervous about having me in there?" Denki asked.

"No, because I know that if you try anything I can knock you on your ass. I also trust you," she told him, linking their fingers together softly. "Is this okay?"

"More than okay," he breathed, stepping close enough to brush their shoulders together.

He could get used to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Your POV)

It was a rare day when you and Denki got a day off together. Being heroes was tiring, and schedules were always weird, so when you both got a day off together, you always spent them together.

"You're up early," Denki murmured, slipping in behind you from where you were sitting on the window seat of your apartment.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck.

"The baby woke me up," you said.

Said baby padded into the roof, tail high in the air, a smug look on that cute furry face as he jumped up onto the seat, curling up in your lap.

"Marshmellow, don't lay on my book," you muttered, pulling the book out.

"Told you, he's fuckin' evil," Denki murmured, kissing your shoulder lightly.

His shirt was slipping off your shoulder, and Denki treated uncovered skin like a target, regardless.

"How long have you been up?" he asked.

"Only an hour or two, and you looked so peaceful, I felt bad waking you up. I know that you've been getting more action than I have these last few weeks," you murmured, taking one of his hands, kissing his palms softly, leaning back into his warmth.

"I love you," Denki hummed.

"I love you too Denks," you told him.

"Read to me?" he requested, and you smiled.

"Always," you replied, finding your spot in your book again.

[caramelcal]

Operation Christmas Cookies

Synopsis: Stiles really wanted the cookies Lydia made so he recruits you to help steal them. 

Ship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 950

Warnings: Christmas vibes (for the grinch)

Notes: The ending as very rushed and I am very sorryyyy! (This also has not been edited or proof read so sorry for bad writing, things that don’t make sense and grammatical/spelling errors. Feel free to call them out :D)

Masterlist

You had been at a family christmas party when Stiles had messaged you. He had said it was urgent so you played it off as you were sick and “went home” but instead you met Stiles outside of your house. 

“Are you going to tell me what this urgent thing is yet?” You asked, arching an eyebrow at the boy who had not spoken a word to you yet as you continued along the road in trusty old Roscoe. 

“Sure,” Stiles said as he cleared his throat, “We’re going to Lydia’s and you’re going to help me steal her cookies.” 

“You seriously dragged me away from my family christmas party to help you steal cookies? Really Stiles?” You said unimpressed as you cocked your head towards the boy with a slightly annoyed expression. 

“Oh c’mon y/n, don’t act as if you enjoyed that family christmas party.” 

“Um excuse me! Of course I did!” 

He looked over to you briefly as he began to mock your voice by making his voice higher, “Oh really? So it wasn’t you that texted me barely fifteen minutes before saying ‘these little gremlin cousins of mine won’t leave me alone, rubbing their sticky little fingers all over the couch and wiping their snotty little noses on my aunt’s christmas sweater’.”

“I don’t sound like that.” You grumbled lightly, cheeks blushing wildly as you looked out the car window. You couldn’t deny that you had been complaining about your little cousins but they were just so annoying. 

Stiles hummed a little, “I think it was a pretty good impression but sure y/n. Plus, I’m actually doing you a favour, I’ve met one of your cousins before and never again.” 

You snorted a little at Stiles as he shivered in disgust of the memory. He swiftly pulled up to Lydia’s house, choosing to park Roscoe down a few houses so the car wasn’t easily visible from Lydia’s house. 

It wasn’t exactly like Lydia would notice anyway, her house was practically bouncing with music and teenagers staggered around her front lawn, one spewing in a bush as a couple were having sex on her porch. You screwed your face up in disgust. 

“I know there’s a lot of people here but Lydia’s going to spot us.” You whispered to Stiles as you stood at the front of Lydia’s house.

Stiles looked at you before his eyes trailed down to what you were wearing, “Yeah well when I made plans to sneak into Lydia’s house and steal her cookies I didn’t expect you to show up in a neon grinch sweater.” 

“Yeah? Well at least I’m spreading christmas cheer, Stiles!” You spluttered as you began to get flustered, cheeks reddening again as you looked away from the boy, arms crossed over your chest as you began to become self conscious about your outfit. 

“Okay well, I’ll distract Lydia, you get the cookies. They’re on the kitchen counter,” Stiles said as he looked towards the house, “And here, take this.” 

With that he took off his jacket, handing it to you as you smiled at him, happily taking the jacket off of him to cover the bright grinch sweater you were wearing. With that, you both ventured into the house, both set on your individual missions. 

You snuck through the house, one that you had been in before through the many study sessions you had with Allison and Lydia. It wasn’t hard to find the kitchen, what was hard was squeezing past the hormonal and drunk teenagers eating the faces off of each other. It might be a kitchen but you eat food in here, not each other’s faces. 

It was easy enough to find the cookie jar, snatching it up and quickly running out, seeing Lydia starting to get annoyed with Stiles distracting her. You made your way back to Roscoe, waiting for Stiles to get back. 

“You’re taking the jar back to her. I don’t want to get caught.” 

You sat with Stiles in Roscoe, but instead of being at Lydia’s you were at the preserve. You both knew it probably wasn’t the best idea but at least you were away from all the high school students at Lydia’s party. You were both equally disturbed and had enough when you seen a skirt being thrown onto the sidewalk and decided to leave before you were exposed to something worse. 

Stiles snorted lightly, finishing the bite of the cookie he was eating before he looked over at you, “You act as if she doesn’t know it was you. Everyone else was at her party and around the pool area. She’ll work it out anyway and you’ll probably get a text about the cookies in a few minutes.”

Of course, he wasn’t wrong. Lydia’s contact came up on your phone screen less than five minutes later, showing a new message, “Damn you Stilinski.”

Your mutter was loud enough for Stiles to hear as his head whipped around to yours, seeing you looking down at your phone, “What? Is that Lydia? What is she saying?”

“Nothing much,” You replied, turning your phone off, “she’s telling me I need to get her ingredients for more now.” 

Of course, that was not what she sent but Stiles didn’t need to know that. Thankfully, you were saved by the shadows and dark night sky of the preserve, hiding the crimson turned cheeks of yours from Stiles. Little did you know, Stiles got a similar text, and the shadows were doing wonders for his blush too. 

You would both be longing for what she sent to become true, yet you both were to blinded by rejection to see each other’s feelings. And oh how clear they were to everyone else...

[dragonologist-in-the-making]

Hi!! Could you please write something for Sirius where he's with the reader but they get in a fight and ignore each other because he said some mean things to her but one night the reader has a horrible nightmare and goes to Sirius in the middle of the night to check up on him and stays there? And like he wakes up and he's like Uhh what's happened? And they make up and he makes her feel better? Thank you so much!!

Title: Apologies

 Pairing: Sirius x reader

 A/N: I really hope I did this justice! It was so much fun to write, thank you for requesting!!

 Wordcount: 1.9k

 Warnings: there’s a curse or two in there, I didn’t proof read so probably grammatical errors (sorry)

Requests are still open!

To most people in Hogwarts, it seemed like a normal day. The sun was still shining through the early autumn sky, and many students were out in the grounds to soak up the rest of the sunshine before it disappeared in time for winter. In the sixth year boys Gryffindor dorm room, however, a heated argument had broken out.

 “Absolutely not, (y/n)! Do you know how dangerous it is? How much can go wrong?! No, you’re not doing this!” Sirius shouted at her, both of you standing at other ends of the dorm, shoulders square and postures tense, throwing angry words at each other whenever you got the chance.

 “And why not, Sirius?” She shot back, acid laced through her voice. Three boys sat spectating, all sitting together on one of the beds, interjecting every so often to try and calm things down but quickly withdrawing once they were being shouted at, too. “Remus is my best friend, he has been for much longer than I even knew who you were. He’s happy for me to try and become an Animagus, so why aren’t you?” She screamed, pushing back the feeling of tears prickling at her eyes. Angry crying was such an inconvenience.

 “Do you know how dangerous it is?” He countered, folding his arms across his chest and lowering his voice, trying to seem calmer and inject some form of logic into his argument.

 “Of course I know the risks, I’m not an idiot.” She snapped back, not bothering to give him the same courtesy in lowering her voice too. No, he would feel her wrath. “But the risks are worth it, to help my best friend. Which, if I’m remembering right, is the same conclusion you came to.”

 “Do you know how difficult it is?” At this attempt to dissuade you, you scoffed.

 “Well you three idiots seemed to manage just fine.” You quipped back, seeing James shrug in agreement as he looked at Sirius. “And surely having your help is only going to make it easier for me to do it right!”

 “Sirius, she’s not entirely wrong.” Remus stood up, beginning to reason, holding his hands up in a surrendering position when Sirius turned a piercing glare towards him. “Hear me out. When you’re stuck on something in class, (y/n) is the first person any of us will turn to, because she’ll know the answer. She’s smart, Sirius, she’s brilliantly smart. She can do this.”

 “This isn’t a piece of homework we need help with, Moony!” His voice had risen again, anger exploding from him now, sending a shockwave throughout the dorm. “This is so much more than class smarts, this is extremely difficult magic, even full wizards who have trained for years struggle with this, you know that! This isn’t some silly little charm that can help us pack a suitcase quickly!” The silence which rang through the room was deafening. His eyes moved to meet hers, glassy with tears, broken, but stone cold.

 “That’s it?” She whispered, not able to bring her voice any louder as the revelation hit her. “You don’t think I’m intelligent enough?” She shook her head as he tried to reach out to her, to correct what he’d said, to try and steer the conversation in a different direction. “No. You said it, and you can’t take it back. I might not be intelligent enough for this, but I am smart enough to know when I’m being treated like shit, and I’m not going to put up with that.” She shouldered her way past him, ignoring his shouts after her. She paused at the doorway, turning back to meet his eyes one last time. “When you’ve realised what a dick you’re being, you know where to find me.” And with that, you turned and walked back towards your dorm, your heart heavy with the crushing weight that he didn’t think you were good enough.

 “(y/n)!”

 …

 After a night spent in your dorm with Remus, who brought more than his fair share of chocolate, her anger had just dissipated into a stubborn resolve to not speak to Sirius until he had apologised. It had been four days already, and she’d managed to find new seats in every class, managed to avoid his glances when she would walk into the common room. Meal times had become extremely irregular, in an attempt to avoid seeing him, which so far had been successful. But it was wearing down on her, which was why Remus had called for a night spent in her dorms, talking about nothing in particular but just having her best friend there to comfort her and stuff her face in chocolate.

 It had been hours, though, and her eyes began to fall closed, the weight of the last few days taking its toll. With one last hug and a gentle kiss to her forehead, he left the dorm to go back to his own, passing the girls walking into their dorm as he left. She looked after him guiltily, even though he assured her that it was Sirius’ fault and not hers, she knew that the relationship between Sirius and the rest of the Marauders had been tense, they wouldn’t dare say it but they all thought he was in the wrong.

 Nevertheless, sleep won the battle of her emotions, and she climbed into her covers, pulling them tight over her as she slowly drifted off into a her own dreamworld.

 She was running through streets, trying to avoid someone, trying to escape from them. Her breath was coming in harder, sharper, as she pushed herself, not knowing where she was going, but having a strong indication of who she was running from. Her hand hurt from how tightly she was gripping her wand, she could feel the sweat building up as she kept going, becoming more and more desperate.

 She stopped running when she reached a square, although where she was she wasn’t really sure. She took in the five figures before her, James next to Lily with her fiery hair standing out against the bleakness around them, Sirius in between Remus and Peter. Immediately she joined their circle, back to back and turned to see what they were fighting against. Hooded figures began to appear all around them, and spells flew in every direction, from every wand, including hers although she didn’t know what she was casting.

 They seemed to be gaining the upper hand, the hooded figures were falling or fleeing, until a bright jet of green light caught her attention, and she watched it hit her boyfriend squarely in the chest, and watched him fall backwards as it took effect.

 She jolted upright, sweat pouring off her body as her heart pounded in her chest, sure it was about to break free with the force of it. Trying to calm her breathing, trying to process the dream she had just had, the tears began to slide down her cheeks as the image of her worst nightmare, of her boyfriend floated in front of her. Even though she knew it was a dream, and he was sleeping soundly in his dorm not too far away, fear constricted in her chest, not letting her breath, and she swung her legs off the side of her bed, pulling a jumper over her head as she silently padded out of the dorm, feet pulling her before her brain could really process where she was going.

 She pushed the door open slightly, and was happy to see the boys all sound asleep, moonlight casted over their snoring faces. She crept in, pushing the door closed behind her, and walked to Sirius’ bed, where his hair was splayed out across the pillow and he was curled up tightly, one arm extended into the empty space in his bed. The space where she would normally be sleeping next to him.

 Unable to help herself, glad to see that he was sleeping peacefully, she reached out a hand a cupped his cheek, leaning over to press a small kiss to his forehead, a secret sign to him that even though they were fighting, her love was still there. He stirred slightly, not opening his eyes but turning his arm so it was palm up.

 “C’mere.” He muttered, barely audible. She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to share a bed with him after everything that had happened in the last week, but the thought of going back to her own bed and enduring another nightmare had her quickly climbing under the sheets, pulling them up around her as Sirius’ arms naturally encircled her, pulling her into his chest as he made fast work of falling back asleep. Finally feeling that you could rest, you too fell back asleep.

 …

 “(y/n)?” She was awoken by the gentle sound of her name being uttered in confusion. Memories of the night before flooded back to her, and she felt her cheeks tinge pink as she would have to explain why Sirius had woken up with an extra person in his bed. She reluctantly opened her (y/e/c) eyes to meet his stormy grey ones, still clouded by sleep and, to her relief, free from any anger or seemingly negative emotion.

 “Morning.” She offered meekly, a shy smile playing on her lips as she refused to meet his gaze, staring intently at his shoulder instead. “I’m sorry,” she started, beginning to explain the confusing circumstances. “I had a nightmare and I had to see you, and I didn’t want to be alone again and you told me to get in so I did-“ her rambling was cut off as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a silent reassurance that it was okay, and he was glad she was with him.

 “I’m sorry too.” He apologised as she finally looked up at him again and saw his guilt written all over his face. “I know you’re smart enough, of course you are, I just couldn’t think about what might happen if it went wrong. With the boys, I guess we didn’t think enough, we were all doing it together and we were just so sure it would work. We were lucky it did, but now I have hindsight and I just panicked when I thought of losing you. But you were all right, having me by your side is only going to decrease the chances of it going wrong, and I have to accept that you can make this choice for yourself.” They smiled at each other, grateful that the seemingly endless period of coldness between them had gone away.

 He dipped his head lower, meeting her lips in a soft kiss, one filled with apology and forgiveness, and relief to be back in each others arms. Eventually, she felt the need to breathe and she pulled away, pressing her lips gently to his collarbone as she could feel his breath on her hair. “Can I taste Moony’s chocolate?” He laughed as he licked his lips.

[tophs-honest-diary]

Life Update 06/365

So today, I didn’t really do much. Just helped mum with some small things like helping her check her online banking. I definitely did not manage to do any study. Last night, me and some of my uni mates planned a trip down to Queenstown. Domestic, but it’s still some sort of travel. We initially planned it for the end of this month, but I asked to push the date back because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to go. We planned it for just when my lectures finished and just for the weekend so like Saturday to Monday.

Also like just a few minutes ago, I was thinking about forgiveness towards my dad. I was just feeling hella awful and it was something that was really weighing on me. Like I was letting false realities of my dad live in my head and I would be angry at arguments that we didn’t even had, but I had played around with in my head. So, now as I’m making dinner, I’m deciding to just let it go really. 

Like, I guess in a way, my dad has been really unfair about his assumptions about us (me and my siblings), but I guess I just gotta take it as life lessons and just pay it forward and make mental notes (these all apply to how to treat people in general too):

To be understanding to my nephew and any other future nieces/nephews/children.

To be a safe space for people to be themselves around me.

To remember that if I ever have children in the future, to remember to always shower them with love and that nothing that happens to me is their fault.

Sorry if there are spelling/grammatical errors. I’m really too tired to proof-read this post.

[mskinkykitty]

Stranded

Chapter 1

Pairing: Hux/OC Reader, Kylo/OC Reader 

Takes place right after Episode VIII The Last Jedi

Rating: None for now

Word Count: 7526

Warnings: Swearing, lots of silliness, OOC characters, canon divergent

Summary:  Hux & Kylo, having just lost the Battle on Crait, leaving the planet, the encounter some kind of anomaly, the more power they used to try to escape it, the more of a hold it seems to have on the command shuttle. Giving the order to fly into the anomaly, Kylo finds himself waking up in a very unfamiliar bedroom, with a young woman, sitting atop him.

A/N: There aren’t enough Hux stories out there, so, of course, I had to write one! This is meant to be silly and fun!

I’m also testing the waters with this chapter, if there is more interest, I will gladly post future chapters! Also, sorry for any spelling and grammatical errors, there’s only so many times I can proof read my fics,

“Mr. Solo! Mr. Solo, wake up! Come on, you were supposed to be getting ready, not napping.”

Kylo woke up to a woman straddling his waist, her hands on his chest supporting her and a bright smile across her face. He was confused and disoriented. Looking around, he didn't recognize his surroundings. There was light filtering in through a window, he could hear birds outside and feel a breeze rolling over him.

“Morning sunshine.” she said, the smile on her face getting even bigger.

“Come on, get up. We have to leave soon and you,” she said, poking his chest, “need to get dressed.” he watched her get off him, stand up, and offer her hand, that same smile on her lips.

“What did you do to me?” Kylo felt like he was waking up from some kind of drug induced sleep

“You did that all to yourself, Mr. Solo. I'm just doing my job and making sure you stay on schedule. But, if you don't hurry and get dressed, I'm sure Mr. Hux will have plenty to say and I know how you hate his monologing Now, come on, seriously, you need to get up, your fanboys await.” She laughed as she left the room.

Kylo sat up and looked around the room. He recognized nothing, not even the view out the window. Of course, the sun peeking in through said window was the biggest surprise.

“Where am I?” he groaned, swinging his legs off to the side so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, as he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“Dude, seriously! You gotta get your lazy ass up, Mr. Hux will be here soon to pick you up and if I don't have you ready in time, it's my ass that's gonna get chewed out, not yours.” The woman said, a little more urgently as she came back in and started going through the drawers of the dresser sitting against the wall and pulling out various articles of clothing.

“What's going on? Who are you and where have you brought me?” Kylo asked, getting up to his full height and standing in front of the woman, trying to look as menacing as possible.

“Shit, are you serious right now? Jesus, Mr. Solo, exactly how much did you drink last night?” she asked, rushing over to him and holding his face in her hands, looking him in the eye, a look of pure concern on her face. “You're not running a fever. Oh god! Please don't tell me some crazed fangirl slipped you something last night. The last thing you need right now, is another possible baby scandal! Especially after last weeks incident. I swear Mr. Solo, you act more like a Hollywood celebrity than a New York Times best seller.” the woman sighed, setting his clothes in his attached bathroom.

Kylo was even more confused, but before he could question the young woman further, an all too familiar voice sounded from behind him.

“Is everything all right in here?” Kylo turned to see General Hux enter the room.

“Thank the stars you're here, Mr. Hux! Mr. Solo is claiming to not know where he is or who I am. I'm worried someone slipped him something last night.” Her worried look going from Hux to Kylo, back to Hux again.

“I'm sure it's nothing, my dear.” Hux said, leaning over and giving the woman a kiss on the cheek. Kylo noticed how it lingered just a little longer than was appropriate for acquaintances and how the girls face turned bright red at the attention. “Now, why don't you let me see if I can't refresh his memory.” Hux smiled down at the young woman. Before she left, he added, “and Jade, dear, how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? Please, call me Armitage, or Hux, at the very least.”  she nodded, embarrassed that he had to keep reminding her to be more familiar with him, then gave one last concerning look to Kylo and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“I was wondering when you'd finally pop in.” Hux sighed, running a finger along the top of the dresser, as if he was inspecting for dirt.

“Hux, what's going on? Where are we? Who is that girl? Is she the one responsible for us being here?” Kylo demanded, surprised at how calm Hux was over their current situation.

“Calm down, she's no threat, no one here is. We're on some planet called Earth and as ridiculous as it sounds, we seem to be in a different reality.” he sighed.

“A different reality?” Kylo scoffs, clearly not believing Hux.

“Yes, like I said, ridiculous, but it's the only thing that makes sense. What's the last thing you remember, before waking up here?” Hux asks, turning to Kylo, his hands behind his back in his standard general pose.

“We had the last of the rebels trapped in an abandoned base on Crait, but they managed to escape. Something happened on the flight back to the fleet.” Kylo struggles to remember, he knows there's something else, but can't recall what it was.

“There's was some kind of anomaly and it seemed to have a hold on the command shuttle. The more power we used, trying to escape, the stronger the pull seemed to be, then you gave the order to turn around and fly into. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in a much too comfortable bed, a cat curled at my side and the sun shining in my room.”

“And you managed to stay calm and collected the entire time?” Kylo asked, skeptical the general was as calm about it as he says he was.

“Of course. It's not the first time I've woken up, somewhere I don't belong. I assumed I had been captured, but once I surveyed my surroundings and took in all the information around me, I realized that wasn't the case. My step-mother, had come over to visit, and after feigning a bout of amnesia after a heavy night of drinking, I was able to find out the basics. She claimed I was drugged at one of your parties, suggested I press charges against you, for,” and Hux couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, “reckless endangerment.”

Kylo was more than suspicious of Hux's oddly friendly behavior. It wasn't like him, they've never had a civil conversation in the entire time they've known each other. He's wasn't sure if he'd ever seen Hux give a genuine smile, let alone laugh at something.

“You're acting...... strange.” Kylo said cautiously, not sure what to make of Hux's odd behavior.

“I've been here for nine months, there's no war to bring order to the galaxy. No Snoke. My father is dead, and my step-mother here is more pleasant then the one from my childhood, though they are the same woman. I'm not in charge of an entire fleet of battle cruisers, I have no expectations to live up to. Making sure your books are released on time, is really my only responsibility. Compared to being General of the First Order, it's virtually stress free, so of course I'm going to be different.” Hux huffed, irritated that he had to explain his behavior.

“Then, what about me?” Kylo asked, a little enticed by the idea of a virtually stress free life.

“You are Ben Solo, a science-fiction writer and I'm Armitage Hux, your publicist and public relations manager. That lovely, young woman is Jade Dameron, your personal assistant and quite the little spitfire, I might add, though she can be quite shy and timid at times.” Hux smirked, looking towards the door, where the woman had left. “You're personality is pretty much the same. The public refers to you as a male diva of sorts. You throw lavish parties, you've been in rehab twice for alcoholism. The party you threw last night was, ironically, to celebrate your successful release from rehab, which, to no surprise, you got drunk at. Honestly, I'm not sure which version of you I like better. The alcoholic party boy, or the tantrum throwing Force wielder.” Hux sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Why can't I feel the Force?” Kylo asked, realizing, as Hux mentioned it, he hadn't felt it since he woke up. He sat back on the bed and stared at his hands, waiting for Hux to answer, while trying to digest everything he'd just been told.

“Because, the Force doesn't exist here, only in the books you and your mother have written. Which, are quite interesting and all too familiar. It's a series called Star Wars and is quite popular. There's movies, toys, cartoons, graphic novels and quite the impressive fan following. Which reminds me, your adoring public awaits, so please, get dressed and I will explain everything I know so far.” Hux said, walking around the room, looking at the photos that were placed on a book shelf along one of the walls.

Kylo did as Hux asked with no argument, much to Hux's surprise and relief. Hux did tell him more about his lifestyle and the Star Wars series, which his mother was responsible for starting, and he was now continuing. When asked about the books he had written, Hux said he would explain it all after the book signing, and to remember to sign his name as Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren.

“I will also warn you, people who used to be your enemy, are now some of your closest friends and family members. Most notably, the scavenger girl, Rey, she's your cousin, Luke Skywalker's adopted daughter, apparently.”

“Did you say that girl's last name was Dameron?” Kylo asked, the familiarity of her name, finally sinking in, Hux couldn't suppress a chuckle.

“Yes, younger sister to Poe Dameron and Rey's best friend. Dameron works for your father and your mother convinced you to hire his little sister to help keep your schedule straight. From what I've gathered, hiring her is the second best thing you've done since writing your first novel.” Hux sighed, turning around to look at Kylo as he walked out of his bathroom.

“What's my relationship like with my parents?” Kylo couldn't help but ask after the mention of his father and since Hux didn't say anything about them while explaining his current lifestyle.

“Normal, though you are some what of a mama's boy, as they say.” Hux smirked at Kylo when he glared. “You're close with your mother, though not as close as you were before your first stint in rehab, but you do still try have lunch at least once a week with her.”

“And my father?”

“You get along, again, it was better before rehab, you've never been as close to him as you are with your mother. Apparently, he wanted you to follow in his footsteps and become a pilot, but, you followed in your mother's footsteps, and became a writer instead. You also have a healthy relationship with Skywalker and the scavenger girl. All in all, a relatively normal family, who get along and like each other. So, I suggest you try not to act too much like yourself.”

“What about my assistant?” Kylo asked, choosing to ignore that snide, little comment.

“What about her?” Hux almost growled, it was like he remembered not to sound to accusatory in his reply, while he was answering. Hux was quickly growing fond of the woman, had even taken her out to lunch a few times, just the two of them.

“How is my relationship with her?” Kylo smirked, seeing the irritation on Hux's face and all to eager to irritate Hux.

“Professional, for the most part. You don't seem to like or dislike her, for that matter. You barely give her the time of day and more often than not, are quite short with her. You only listen when she's telling you about your schedule, or something else relating to your work. You only hired her as a favor to your mother, which you constantly remind her of when she does something not up to your ridiculous standards. I don't know how many times I've had to stop you from trying to fire her over the most ridiculous of things.” Hux huffed, he was trying not to grow agitated with Kylo's questions about her, but, he couldn't deny his attachment to the woman, and wanted to discourage Kylo from trying to get to know her as subtly as possible.

“She seems to like me.” Hux did not like the Cheshire grin, Kylo was giving him.

“That's because she likes everybody.” Hux scoffed.

“She seemed to really like my body this morning when she was straddling it.” Hux scoffed, knowing exactly what Kylo was trying to do.

“You seem to be handling this all a little too well.” Hux glared suspiciously, as he deflected their conversation away from Jade. He had expected Kylo to throw one of his tantrums and start destroying the room, which is why he sent Jade away.

“I handle everything well.” Kylo hisses back, to which Hux just scoffs.

“If you consider destroying control panels, handling things well.”

Kylo was about to retort, but was stopped by a knock on his door, before Jade entered.

“Mr. Hux, Mrs. Solo is here.” she said, her tone still tinged with worry. Then she looked at Kylo and groaned, apparently forgetting she was worried about him in the first place. “Mr. Hux, you were supposed to make sure he finished getting ready, not just dressed.” Hux couldn't stop the affectionate smile he gave her.

“Sorry, I was questioning him about what happened last night.”

“No possible baby scandal?” She asked, looking at Hux, eyebrows raised as she bit her bottom lip.

“No possible baby scandal. For once, he kept it in his pants and returned alone.” Hux chuckled, never taking his eyes off her.

“Thank the stars.” She sighed in relief. “I'll make sure he finishes getting ready, but Mrs. Solo is asking for you.” She entered the room and held the door open for Hux, as he made his way to exit.

“Thank you, Ms. Jade, we'll meet you both downstairs.” Hux stopped next next to her before completely exiting and bent down to whisper in her ear, “I'll save you a seat, right next to me.” Seeing the intense blush bloom across her face, gave Hux the biggest smile, flustering her had quickly become his favorite thing to do.

Jade was pulled back to her senses when she heard the door click behind her. Then she looked at Kylo and groaned again.

“Mr. Solo, you are not wearing the shirt you partied then slept in last night to this book signing.” she said as she walked over to him, then leaned in and smelled him. “And you really need to put on some deodorant and cologne, you reek of alcohol! Come on, into the bathroom with you.” Kylo tried to protest when she got behind him and started pushing him into the bathroom.

“I can walk myself!” he barked, jerking away and glaring down at her.

“Then do it, and I won't have to push you.” she bit back, again, pushing him towards the bathroom. “I'm sorry Mr. Solo, but we don't have time for me to put up with your diva shit this morning. Now pee.” She ordered, turning and busying herself with things at the sink.

“I can't go with you in here!” he snapped.

“It's never stopped you before, why so shy now?” she said, not even bothering to look at him, finished with what she was doing, she turned back to him and looked at the toilet, expectantly.

“For fuck's sake, Mr. Solo, either you go now, or you go in a bottle in the car. You haven't been late to a single thing since you hired me, and we sure as hell aren't going to start today! Now either piss, or get over here and brush your teeth, so I can brush your hair!” she ordered and Kylo was starting to understand why Hux liked her. He was also starting to think something had possessed her after Hux left the room, since this was the complete opposite of the girl that woke him up and definitely, not the girl who had just been blushing over what Hux whispered to her.

“Fine.” Kylo growled, walking to stand at the sink, and started brushing his teeth. Jade pulled out her little step ladder and set it up, grabbed the brush that was on the counter, climbed up, so she was just a few inches taller than Kylo and proceeded to brush the knots out of his hair.

“OW!” he snapped, when the brush snagged a knot and she tried to pull it through.

“Shut up and brush your damn teeth.” she snapped back. “We're running short on time.”

Kylo finished his brushing the same time she did, with only a few more uncomfortable tugs. He then, washed his face, after being told, while she put the stool away.

“Now take that damn shirt off, put your deodorant on and come out when you're done.” she said, walking out to the bedroom.

Angry and humiliated, Kylo slammed the door and locked it. He took the opportunity to urinate, before doing what he was told.

“I hope you washed your hands after touching that dirty thing!” she yelled, from somewhere in the room, when he opened the bathroom door. He was beginning to understand why he would want to fire her.

After washing his hands, he walked into the bedroom, seeing her standing by his bed, holding a shirt up, with that same smile she woke up him up with.

“I thought about it a little more and I think this shirt over this t shirt,” she said, holding up said shirt with her other hand, “will be a much more appropriate combo for the signing. This is just a small signing at Luke's bookstore, I think it's best if we do a more casual look. Besides the ladies love a casually dressed Ben Solo.” she teased, then pushed the two articles of clothing in his hands and went through another door, which he assumed was his closet.

He looked at the t-shirt, which said, “Join the dark side, we have cookies”, he was quite offended and was about to yell at her and refuse to wear it, when she walked out of the closet and saw him just standing there. He was frozen in place by the glare she was giving him and he had never been more thankful that looks couldn't kill, in his entire life. Her calm and level voice gave him chills when she spoke to him.

“Mr. Solo. If you do not put those on, right now, we are going to have a problem.”

Kylo could have sworn he saw her eyes flash yellow, for just a second. Not wanting to test Hux's theory, of the Force not existing in this reality, he swallowed the lump in his throat and got dressed. Then quickly put on his socks and shoes while she busied herself  gathering, what Kylo assumed, were random items and placing them in a bag. Once she was done, she turned to him and smiled, seeing him ready to go.

“Alright, lets go! Mr. Hux and Mrs. Solo are waiting for us downstairs, with the car.”

Kylo followed her out of the room, into what looked like his living room, then into a hallway and to an elevator.

“Now remember, you're not allowed to answer any questions about the film adaptation of your first book and no hints about the third book. The publishing company doesn't want you to risk someone stealing any of your ideas and claiming that you copied them. You're having lunch with your mom after the signing, I've already made reservations at the usual place under your usual pseudo-name. Then after lunch, you have a conference call with the publishing firm about a few international book signings they want you to do. Then you have a dinner date with some unknown actress, you met at last night's party. I don't remember her name, I'll have to check the schedule to see what it is.” Kylo just stared at her like she had two heads. He had no idea what she was talking about. He would have to find out from Hux later.

They exited the elevator and walked through the lobby in silence. His mind still reeling with everything that was going on, and how did Hux expect him to get through this book signing? He'd never done anything like that before, and he hated crowds. They made him nervous, especially without being able to use the Force to scan the crowd for possible rebel threats. Then he had to remind himself, that there were no rebel threats here. Hux gave him the impression that they led a peaceful life, no warring, no fighting. No purpose.

“See, Armitage, I told you she'd have him down here on time.” Leia said, seeing Kylo and Jade exit the building and walk over to the car.

“You're right, Mrs. Solo, I never should have doubted her.” Hux smiled at Jade.

“Armitage, you've been friends with my son for how many years now? You're practically family, now please, call me Leia. Mrs. Solo always makes me feel so old.” She laughed.

Kylo was frozen to the spot, it had been years since he'd seen his mother and he wasn't sure he'd ever seen her smile like that. He didn't want to move, didn't want to look away. He was afraid if he did, he'd wake up back on the Finnalizer or some other star destroyer and realize this had all been a dream.

“I've missed you, Ben.” She beamed, walking over to him with open arms and embracing him. “Let me get a good look at you.” she said, stepping back and placing her hands on his cheeks, then to his shoulders as she looked him over.

“I've missed you too. I'm so sorry, mom!” he couldn't help himself, he wrapped his arms around her and held her as tight as he could. Hux and Jade just looked at each other with wide eyes, surprise, not being a strong enough word to describe what they were seeing.

Kylo was overwhelmed with his emotions. Without Snoke and the Force to guide him, he didn't know how to resolve what he was feeling. Without Snoke, his chest felt lighter, he didn't feel all the hate and anger that usually flowed through him with the Force. It was oddly freeing.

Leia returned Kylo's embrace, one hand wrapped around his back, the other on his head.

“I'm glad you're home.” Leia said said, releasing Kylo and creating some distance between them.

“I'm sorry to interrupt,” Jade said in gentle tone.

“Then don't!” Kylo snapped, causing Jade to flinch back and stare at the ground.

“Ben!” Leia chastised, “You don't need to snap at her like that. She's only doing her job and trying to keep you on schedule.”

“Let's just go.” Kylo grumbled, refusing to apologize to his bossy assistant.

***

It didn't take them long to reach Luke's bookstore and Kylo couldn't believe the line of people standing outside of it.

“They're all here to see you.” Hux said, seeing Kylo stare at all the people.

“Finn, can you pull around back and let us off there? I think it's best if we go in through the back.” Jade said.

“You got it!” Kylo looked up to see Finn smiling back at them from the rear view mirror. “Good to see you again, Ben.” he nodded, Kylo mirrored the greeting.

Finn pulled around to the backside of the building, glad there weren't any fans lurking about.

“Looks like Rey was able to keep the fans from lurking behind the store. Speaking of the devil.” Finn laughed when he saw Rey come running towards them.

Jade was the first one out, she didn't even give Finn a chance to get out of his seat before she was opening the door and running over to greet Rey.

“Rey!” she yelled, running to her friend.

“Jade!” Rey laughed, as they embraced.

“I've missed you! We don't get to hang out nearly as much as we should.”  Jade said, giving her friend a fake pout.

“That's because your boss is an incapable asshole, who can't comb his own hair without you.” Rey teased, loud enough to make sure Kylo heard as he stepped out of the car.

“Well, you're not wrong there.” Jade giggled in a whisper to her friend.

“Rey, always nice to see you.” Hux smiled, walking up to the pair. He had only recently started to warm up to the woman he had known as the scavenger girl, the Jedi of the resistance and a thorn in the side of the First Order. But here, she was simply Rey Skywalker, future owner of Skywalker books.

It was only within the last few weeks that he was starting to let his guard down and warm up to the group of people who had once been his mortal enemies. He was finding his new life, much more to his liking, than he would have, originally thought. Without the war, he found, they were all very likable.

“Hey Hux, still as stuffy as always, I see.” Rey teased, giving his arm a playful slap. “You should find someone to take that stick out of your ass, you might find you don't stand quite so stiff.” she laughed, before running off to greet her aunt and cousin.

“I think she's been spending too much time with your brother and her uncle.” Hux sighed, even though he was getting used to her occasional crude teasing, it never failed to embarrass him in front of Jade. Which he was almost positive, is the reason she did it.

“Aunty!” Rey yelled, greeting Leia before embracing her in a hug.

“Hello, Rey.” Leia chuckled, returning the hug. “Dad didn't tell me you were gonna be here. OH!” she gasped, “Is this a double signing!?  OHMYGAWD! The fans are going to freak!”

“It is. I talked to him a few weeks ago about it, we agreed to keep it a surprise, since his store can't handle all the people that would likely show up for that.” Leia chuckled, not surprised at all, that her niece had come to the conclusion so quickly.

“I was wondering why you picked us up today.” Jade smirked as she and Hux walked over to Leia and Rey.

“I wish I would have known, I would have made sure we extra copies of your book as well.” Hux sighed.

“Don't worry, I took care of it.” Leia said.

“Hey Ben, nice to see you back with the land of the sober. You gonna stay this time or should we just go ahead and tell them to keep your room ready?” Rey said, crossing her arms across her chest, giving her cousin, a less then warm welcome.

“Rey!” Jade hissed. “Cut him some slack, he just got back the other day.

“Give me a break! He threw a huge party last night to 'celebrate' his recovery. Judging by the pictures I saw on Instagram this morning, he was tossing them back like he was a thirsty man in a desert.”

“I think you're being a little to hard on him, Rey.” Leia said, putting her arm around the woman's shoulder and guiding her back towards the bookstore.

“I don't think it's hard enough. Aunt Leia, he needs a wake up call.” Rey argued.

“That may be, but you can't force one on him.” Rey just sighed, knowing Leia was right, to which, Leia whispered, “Though, I think he may have gotten it this time. He was different this morning, less stand offish. He didn't try to push me away, in fact, he gave me a hug. He hasn't hugged me like that since he was a child.”

Rey just looked at her as if her head had just popped off, then took a quick glance back at Kylo, to see him following Jade and Hux, his hands in his pockets and the same scowl as always. She decided she would have to keep a closer eye on him and judge for herself.

The group walked into the back room of the book store and were greeted by Luke.

“What in the world are you wearing, Mr. Skywalker!” Jade laughed when she saw him. Kylo had to fight the urge to attack him, the memories of the night he was almost murdered, flooding back to him.

“They're Jedi robes. Rey take Jade, so you can both go put yours on.” Luke smiled, turning to his daughter.

“You got me my own Jedi robes!?” she squealed, throwing herself at Luke and practically choking him with her hug. “You're the best, Mr. Skywalker!”  Luke laughed as he watched the pair run off.

“I think you spoil them a little too much.” Leia laughed.

“No such thing, when it comes to those two.” Once the girls had left, he turned to the trio left behind. “Hux, I got an extra set, just in case you wanted to join in the fun.”

“That's quite all right, but thank you, Mr. Skywalker.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, call Me Luke. Mr. Skywalker was my dad.” Luke winked.

“You'll probably have to remind me a few more times.” he said, giving Luke a polite smile.

Kylo was practically disgusted with the way Hux was interacting with his uncle. Like they were friends, and he hadn't spent the last, almost decade, hunting him down under Snoke's orders. Kylo was finding it harder and harder to control the anger and hatred he felt for his uncle. He wanted to reach out with the Force and strangle him, or better yet, strangle him with his bare hands, so he could feel the life draining from him.

“Thanks for doing this Ben. It means a lot to Rey and me, especially after the way I handled things.” Luke said, his attention on Kylo, seeing him practically seething in anger.

“Luke, you don't....”

“No Leia, I do.” Luke said, not letting his sister interrupt him. “Ben, I owe you an apology. Not for calling the cops and turning you in, I don't regret that at all. But for the way I handled the situation.”

“I think this might be better talked about after the signing.” Hux said, seeing Kylo's rage and not wanting to escalate the situation any further. He then pulled Kylo to the side and whispered, “Remember, he isn't the same as the Skywalker you know. You need to calm down before you cause a scene and make things more difficult. Just remember, they may have their faces, but these are not the people we know. These are not members of the resistance and he is not the Jedi Master you knew.”

Before Kylo could say anything, his attention went to Rey and Jade, laughing and swinging, what looked like, light sabers.

“Dad, you didn't tell me you got us light sabers!”

“That's because it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you.” he laughed, walking over to the pair.

“Thank you so much, dad!” Rey said, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, thank you Mr. Skywalker, you didn't have to.”

“Nonsense! Of course I did, you can't be Jedi without light sabers, can you.” He smiled. He loved spoiling the two girls more than anything and always found that he could never tell them no.

“No, but, who are the extra set of robes for?” Jade asked.

“I got them, hoping Hux would join in the fun.” He said, flashing a mischievous smile over at Hux.

“Really!?” Jade was giddy at the thought of having another person dress up with them. Hux felt like a deer caught in the headlights, when she turned and smiled at him.

“Oh, um, no, it's alright. I think I'll just stick with my suit.” He said, trying to sound as calm and collected as he always was.

“What? No! Come on, please!” Jade whined. “It's more fun with more people.”

“Yea, Hux! Come on, don't make dad the only guy Jedi.” Rey begged.

“Come on, Hux, you're not gonna leave Padawan Jade without a master, are you?” Luke teased.

“That's perfect, dad! I can be your Padawan and Jade can be Hux's!”

“I think Ben, would suit the role better.” Hux said, giving a nervous chuckle and not seeing the glare Kylo shot at him.

“He'll be too busy signing, plus, he doesn't like to do stuff like that. Please Mr. Hux!” Jade knew she sounded like a child, but she didn't care. She had always loved the Star Wars series and any chance she had to fangirl, she took it and she was always happy to take others with her.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Hux knew he had been defeated. After all, how could he tell her no, she was just too adorable when she looked up at him with those big doe eyes, and pouty lips.

“Alright, alright, you win, on one condition.” He said, quickly silencing whatever happy noise her and Rey were about to make. “You are not allowed to call me Mr. Hux for the rest of the day.

“Of course not, Master Armitage.” Oh, the things that did to him! He was suddenly, very glad he would be wearing loose fitting robes.

“Come on, I'll show you where you can change and Jade, we can put Padawan braids in our hair, while he's changing.” Rey said, leading Hux and Jade back to Luke's office, where the extra set of robes were.

This left Luke, Leia and Kylo, standing alone in the stock room. All of them feeling suddenly very awkward and Kylo, trying to control his anger.

“We've cleared a spot for the signing, the books are already set up. By the time they get to you, they will have already paid. Leia, I know you love to talk with your fans, but, there's gonna be a lot of people here and we want to try to get through as many of them as possible. And Ben,” Luke said, turning to his nephew, a teasing smile crossing his lips, “don't be afraid to smile at more than just the ones with a pretty face.” Kylo just rolled his eyes, and followed them to where he would be signing this book Ben Solo had written.

“Ben, I know you don't like crowds and large groups of people and Jade was very adamant that we accommodate that.” He said, stopping in front of a table with a Star Wars backdrop. It was near the front door, on the other side of the cash register.

“Meaning, she wouldn't agree to the signing unless, you did it.” Leia chuckled, shaking her head. She knew Ben hiring her would make his life a lot easier, and she was grateful the young woman was looking out for her son.

“Needless to say, even though the store will be overcrowded with your devoted fans, we've blocked off a nice open section, so you don't feel overwhelmed, and it has easy access to my office if you do start to feel overwhelmed and need a minute to breath.” Luke smiled.

Kylo wasn't sure how to feel about their consideration for his dislike of large groups. He looked at the boxes full of books, then at the line standing outside the store. He was starting to feel nervous. He didn't know who this Ben Solo was, or what these Star Wars books were about, so how could he interact with these people and be convincing. His anger was starting to feel more like panic.

* * *

“I look ridiculous.” Hux groaned as they joined the others. He thought it rather ironic, that he loathed the Jedi and tried to eliminate them, but, here he was, willing to dress up as one, for a pretty face. He was not thrilled to think about what Kylo would say about it later.

“No you don't, you look great! Doesn't he look great, Mr. Solo.” Jade said, her smile quickly fading when she saw the look of panic on Kylo's face. “Mr. Solo? Are you feeling ok?” She asked.

“I need to talk to you!” Kylo said, quickly grabbing Hux's arm and rushing off to the store room.

“Stay here, we'll be right back.” Hux said quickly, when he saw Jade try to follow them. He gave her a reassuring smile, when she stopped and nodded.

“I can't do this, Hux! I'm not this Ben Solo, I didn't write these stupid books!”

“You need to pull yourself together!” Hux snapped. “Do you know what will happen to you if you start spouting off that you're really Kylo Ren, that you killed Ben Solo to follow in your grandfather, Darth Vader's footsteps. To conquer the galaxy and bring peace and order, alongside with the First Order?” Hux gave Kylo a minute to absorb his words before continuing. “They'll think you've finally lost it and have you committed!” Staring at Kylo, not sure if what he was saying was sinking in, he sighed, then opened one of the nearby boxes and pulled out a book.

“Read the back of it.” he said, handing the book to Kylo.

“I don't see how this is going to help.” Kylo tried to argue, but Hux just shoved the book against his chest.

“Read the back of the damn book!” Hux hissed.

Reluctantly, Kylo did, his eyes only getting wider as he read the synopsis. The confused look on his face, said it all.

“In this world, our lives are a story. You're mother started them, she wrote the first six books, then passed the mantle to Ben Solo, you, to continue. Ben Solo based all the characters after people he knew, even gave them their names. This is the first book, the second book details everything that happened until you and I wake up here, minus the space anomaly that brought us here. So, yes, you are Ben Solo and you know exactly what these, damned books are about. We will get through this signing, and I will have Jade clear your schedule for the rest of the day.”

“I can't do this!”

“You can and you will! I have worked too hard the last nine months to fit in and to be prepared if you ever showed up and I will NOT! Let you ruin everything I have done!” Hux was letting his anger get the better of him, but he wasn't about to let Kylo invalidate everything he's endured since he woke up on this world. There was no way he was going to let Kylo ruin the lives they had.

“Now, you are going to stop acting like a spoiled child! You are going to suck it up! And you are going to go out there, smile at your fans and sign those BLOODY BOOKS!” Hux was panting now, he was so angry with Kylo, and with no Force or Snoke for Kylo to fall back on, Hux felt free to let loose his anger loose. And, damn! Did it feel good!

“Is everything ok, back here?” Jade asked, poking her head through the door. “I heard yelling.”

“Everything is fine.” Hux said, taking a deep breath, before straightening out his robes and fixing his hair.

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking between Hux and Kylo.

“He said, it's fine!” Kylo snapped, then stormed out of the backroom.

“Ben was just having second thoughts about today, that's all. He thought it might be too soon after his release from rehab.”

“But, he had that huge party last night, and he was ok with it yesterday.”

“I know, it doesn't make much sense to me either. In the mean time, I'd like you to clear his schedule for the rest of the day, including his date tonight. In fact, cancel all his dates this week, move the consultation about the book tour to tomorrow afternoon. Does he have anything important on his schedule for tomorrow?” Hux asked.

Jade pulled out her phone and began to check Kylo's schedule for the rest of the week.

“No, in fact, everything this week can be rescheduled or canceled.” She said.

“Then do it, but keep the the luncheons with his mother and add a family dinner night. Schedule the family dinner on a night when you'll be able to join us.”

“Of course! Is there any night that doesn't work for you?” she asked, waiting as Hux pulled out his phone and checked his own schedule.

“I will start having Mitaka forward my schedules to you. I have a feeling Ben is going to be taking up a lot more of my time.” he sighed, looking over his weekly schedule. “My evenings are free all this week. Let me know which night it is and forward it to Mitaka as well.” Hux pinched the bridge of his nose, now that Kylo was here, he knew his life was going to get a lot more complicated. With as stubborn as Kylo is, he knows he's going to be reluctant to accept this life and make things as difficult as possible.

“Hey, we could really use your guys' help out there.” Rey said.

“We'll be there in a minute.” Jade said, nodding to her friend, then turning back to Hux. “I'll talk to Mrs. Solo and see when a good night is, but I'm pretty sure she'll try to insist on every night.” she giggled. With the added stress of Kylo's appearance, Hux found himself even more thankful for her presence.

“Once the signing is done, why don't you take the rest of the day off, spend it with Luke and Rey.”

“What! No! Mr. Hux....”

“Ah, ah, ah, what did I say about calling me Mr. Hux, today.”

“Right, sorry. But...... Armitage.......” she hesitated, his name sounding odd coming from her lips. “I'm his assistant, I should be there to help him.”

“Nonsense. I think what Ben needs, is a good one-on-one with an old friend. I can always meet up with you later and fill you in, if you'd like.” Hux couldn't help but offer to meet up with her, he loved any alone time he got to spend with her.

“Are you sure?” She asked, clearly concerned oabout taking the rest of the day off.

“Absolutely. I know it's been a while since you and Rey have spent time together and we're already here. The both of you are all dressed up and I know how much you love the books.” He smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Yea.” Hux loved her sheepish smiles, especially when he knew she was pretending to not be embarrassed.

“Then it's settled, I will take Ben back to his apartment and you will spend the rest of the day here, what is it you say?”

“Amongst my own people.” she giggled.

“Yes, then I will meet with you later, fill you in on Ben's situation.”

“I don't know. I still feel like I'm pawning him off on you.”

“Nonsense.” Then, remembering the way they were both dressed, he got an idea. “Your Jedi Master, commands that you take the rest of the day off and spend it with your friends. I'm sure Master Luke won't mind having you under his tutelage for one day.” Hux had never felt more like a fool, than he did right then. But, if it made her smile, he'd play the fool everyday.

“Thank you, Armitage, you're the best!” she said, wrapping her arms around Hux's chest and giving him a hug.

“Yes, yes, young Padawan. Now, come, they require our help.” Kriff, He was such an idiot!

[youknowmymethods]

Content Creator Interview #6

Hello again and welcome to our sixth interview. This time, it’s the turn of @ashockinglackofsatin to put @sunken-standard ‘s writing under the microscope. Together they chat about the early days of the Sherlock fandom, how music can influence writing, and why the I Love You scene helped end sunken’s own great hiatus.

For those who don’t know me: I am @ashockinglackofsatin on tumbr, satin_doll on AO3. My test subject...erm, sorry - interviewee - is the notorious sunken_standard, probably most famous for her two epic, novel-length stories Longer Than The Road That Stretches Out Ahead and Fumbling Toward Ecstasy, which can be found on AO3 (along with her other wonderful stories) and should be required reading for anyone aspiring to write fanfiction.

 You should know, first off, that I’m crap at doing interviews, which I discovered years ago when I had to interview musicians and various personalities as a job. I didn’t last long at that job.

 So here is Kat’s Idiotic Interview with @sunken-standard.

  satin_doll:  You’re very good at writing Sherlock’s emotional cluelessness without making him seem like an idiot or an ass. Can you talk a little about the way you see Sherlock’s character that allows you to do this?

 sunken_standard: Thank you :D  So the answer to this is going to carry through to some of the other questions, but basically, I write Sherlock as a version of myself.  I feel a kinship with the character, a highly intelligent person surrounded by idiots and so, so frustrated by it, but even more frustrated by his own brain and the inability to control it.  Probably autistic, just like I'm probably autistic (and I don't want to get into it but I'm not trying to co-opt an identity here or anything; I've tried to get a diagnosis and found out that's just not possible with my current healthcare options).

Anyway, one of my probably-autistic things is being hyper-aware of other people's emotions, but also having trouble identifying them and the appropriate responses.  At times I do lack empathy, like I honestly can't understand why someone is feeling what they're feeling because I wouldn't feel that way in the same situation and it doesn't make sense.  Sometimes I can empathize so much that it's overwhelming and I just kind of short-circuit, especially when it comes to grief or loss, and I end up being insensitive or just not saying or doing what a normal person would.

 So basically, I approach his responses to other people's emotions the way I would my own, only stripped of female socialization and self-awareness.

  satin_doll:  How much do you draw on your own life and experiences in your fics?

 sunken_standard: For scenarios and specific scenes, not a lot.  For emotional and sensory experiences, more. I haven't done very much or lived to my full potential, so it's not a very deep well on either account.  Every now and then anecdotes or details creep in (like Mars Cheese Castle and the “call me Daddy” during sex thing [which, for the record, was skeevy as fuck irl]), but most of it just comes from nowhere or stuff I saw on TV.

  satin_doll:  Both “Longer than the Road…” and “Fumbling Toward Ecstasy” are novel length stories. “Road”, however, is written without breaks/chapters. Did you ever consider breaking it up into parts or chapters? How hard was it to keep it all in one piece and how long did it take you to finish it?

 sunken_standard: When I write, I usually just start and then go 'til it's done or I burn out.  I got through three or four chapters' worth of FTE (and was on the verge of giving up until maybe_amanda convinced me not to).  Since the story wasn't nearly finished and I wanted to start putting it out into the world (mostly because I have no patience, but also because I knew there was a window to stay relevant and a large number of people were looking for a longer, meatier [cough] post-TFP fic), I decided to start posting what I had and just write as I went because I was, in hindsight, probably hypomanic and I was keeping a good pace at that point.

 I dunno, I think there was a lot more of that long-format thing happening in fic back then, where you'd have a 40k piece that only had breaks because of the word limit per post on LJ.

 As far as how long it took, I don't remember.  I know I started it February of that year and had probably a good 75% of it finished (all written at a tear, over the course of probably ten days or so, because when I was still smoking actual cigarettes I could and did do 3-5k words/ day), but then I dropped it and went on to try other ideas.  I went back to it when those other stories fizzled, and I finished it in maybe another 2-3 weeks with editing and beta reading.  I had some real problems with the ending and it was never good enough for me, but I just got to a point where I was sick of it and it was good enough.

 So basically, it's harder for me to work in chapters than it is one long piece.  There's more discipline to a chaptered work; each chapter is its own story, in a way, and each one needs to end on a certain kind of beat.  I still don't feel like I have a knack for it, and I think if I did anything long like that again I'd have to write most of it without breaks and then shoehorn them in where I could later on.

  satin_doll:  You took a long hiatus from Sherlock fic after S2, and came back for S4. What was it about S4 that sparked your writing again?

 sunken_standard: I don't really know.  I mean, the ILY was a big thing, but I think S4 gave me more to work with for the kind of things I write (all the angst and inner monologue) than S3 or TAB.  I had mixed feelings about S3.  I didn't like Mary much for a long time because she was one of Moffat's women (and anyone who's seen my tumblr knows how I feel about that), but I finally unclenched after a while because I like Amanda Abbington a lot and Mary was preferable to Sarah Sawyer (who I'm more ambiguous about now, but really didn't like for a long time because there was something about her that I read as smarmy, though now I see her reactions as more subtly uncomfortable and kind of like “what's going on/ this is weird/ John's a nice guy but is everything around him always this weird?”).  Anyway.

I did try writing a bit after S3, but I never finished any of it; I didn't really feel like there was a place in the fandom or much of a community at that time, either—at least, not like what I had been used to from the early days.  The tribe that existed wasn't my tribe (any of them).  I think I need a certain degree of shared enthusiasm to motivate me to keep writing.  Like, I have a lot of ideas for fic in other fandoms, but they're dead or never existed in the first place.  And I know I'll have some audience for the small fandoms and people will read and kudos and everything, but there's no one around to geek out with or bounce ideas off of, so it just isn't as appealing.  If I'm going to be miserable and alone while writing something, it's going to be something I can at least make money off of, y'know?

  satin_doll:  Do you edit as you go or finish the story first and go back over it to edit?

 sunken_standard: Edit as I go.  When I get stuck, I break that cardinal rule of writing and go back over what I've written and nit-pick it to death.  It's a bad habit, but at the same time, small changes have led to big developments in the course of the story later on.  I mean, I think sometimes this is why I have so many unfinished things, but I've tried just writing through and that doesn't work for me either. Once I get to the end of something, I've already made most of big cuts and done a lot of the reworking, so the beta polishing isn't as labor-intensive.  I'm one of those people that when I feel like something's finished, I don't want to have to go back to it again.  And if I didn't edit as I went, it would kind of feel like redoing the whole story and that's extremely unappealing to me.  It's kind of like baking—it's always better if you clean as you go, rather than waiting until the cake's out of the oven to do the dishes and put stuff away (which I do when I'm low on spoons, but it ends up seeming like double the work).

 satin_doll:  Do you proof it yourself or rely on someone else to proofread it for you? I’m talking technical details here, proofing as opposed to simple beta reading.

 sunken_standard: Mostly proof myself, since I edit as I go (and proofing is inevitably part of that when the mistakes just jump out).  My beta catches everything else (and she's amazing; I misuse words and just legit don't know spelling differences for a lot of things [stationary vs stationery] and I'm not great with grammar and prepositions because I'm an ignorant fucker with no education).

  satin_doll:  When did you first start writing? When did you first discover that you COULD write?

 sunken_standard: I remember writing stories as a kid, but I burned them all when I was a teenager so I don't even know what most were about or anything.  I do remember that I wrote one when I was in like 4th or 5th grade that was ST:TNG self-insert fanfic and I think the plot was me working with Data to bring Lal back. I know it was Data, because I had a huge crush on him as a kid.  I really thought I could grow up to write ST:TNG novels at that point.

 And as for CAN write—jury's still out on that one. Ask my 12th grade English teacher, who laughed in my face when I told him I was thinking of pursuing English so I could be a writer.  But before that, I had some other teachers that used to give me A+s on my creative writing assignments (despite all the spelling and grammatical errors).  In 11th grade, I had a really great teacher, Mr. Lansing, who turned me on to the good parts of American lit and really encouraged me to read (and write) what I liked, not just what other people told me I had to.  He encouraged me when I applied for the Governer's school, too. (The Governer's School is this program in PA for kids who excel; it's like a summer camp for the elite nerds.  They have a bunch of them, each for different areas—math, science, medicine, I think one that's like history/ government/ civics, and then one for the arts.  For creative writing, they take a total of 20 kids—10 for poetry and 10 for prose.  I tried for the poetry category and made the first round of cuts and went for a regional interview (with about 50 other kids, so like maybe 150 kids state-wide); long story short I didn't make it.  I was the first alternate, meaning if somebody couldn't attend, I would get their spot.  #11 out of 10.  I was so crushed, because it basically reinforced what I'd been told by other people—I was a big fish in pond too small to even piss in and there were always going to be people better than me.  I was already mostly checked-out when it came to academia and aspirations; after that there was just really no point to keep going.)

 Anyway though, I did write bits and pieces here and there even after school, thinking one day I'd get my shit together and write my own Confederacy of Dunces and then off myself (it's still a viable plan). Then, in 2008 I was recently unemployed and everything in life was shitty, so I wrote a big happy-ending fic for The Doctor and Rose.  It was kind of the right bit of media at the right time that inspired me.  More about that later though.

  satin_doll:   What/who do you think has had the biggest influence on the development of your style?

 sunken_standard: I've been asked this before, and I always feel like I'm a little pretentious and I trot out the same names (both fanfic authors and book authors), but I had a realization a while ago that I'm always missing one person—Vonnegut.  I think he's got this kind of no-bullshit way of saying things that still manages to be poetic and delicate and that's what I most aspire to.

I think a lot of my style is influenced by film, too. Some influences are probably Todd Solondz, Richard Linklater, Kevin Smith, and John Waters, as far as the way I approach the reality within the story.  I think I tend to focus on a lot of the same things—the weird, the mundane, the mildly uncomfortable—but I don't go nearly as far in any direction.  I think even the way I string scenes together and the shifting of focus within my scenes between action, dialogue, and inner monologue are influenced by cinematography.  I always say I'm just transcribing the movie in my head, so I mean, there's bound to be some kind of influence.

  satin_doll:  You’re noted for the banter between your characters, humorous and otherwise. Do you have rules/profiles for characters that establish their voices for you? Are there things, for example, that you think Sherlock or Molly simply would never say/do or would always say/do? How structured are these characters in your head when you start writing?

 sunken_standard: It varies slightly from story to story/ universe to universe, but I think I have patterns for the banter (and I have a different set for Sherlock and John, and Sherlock and Mycroft, but there are common threads throughout).  As for comedy, it's not quite straight man/ funny man, but I tend to default to Sherlock being more literal and deadpan and Molly being more expressive and emotive. I use the scraps of the dynamic the show's given us and just build on that.  It's kind of formulaic, actually: Sherlock does a not-good thing (degree of severity varies), Molly reacts with a blend of annoyance and amusement while going along for the ride.

 I have a kind of mental file for things I think would be out of character for each of them, but sometimes I like to try to find a way to get to one of those things and slip it into a fic organically.  One of the reason I liked doing the one-line prompt fics so much was that so many of them could easily have been intros to the kind of fluff that makes me gag; I'm no fool, though, and I love me some low-hanging fruit, so I just adjust it to my tastes.  I'm a never-say-never kinda gal.  Mostly.

 That being said, there are a lot of things that I think would take a lot of doing to make them be in-character.  I don't think they'd ever use pet names for each other unless it was through gritted teeth or with at least a bit of irony (like how I used “yes, dear,” in FTE, and I think in some of the universes in Ficlet Cemetery).  I can't see Sherlock ever doing housework unless it was for a case (though dishes and sanitizing surfaces are an exception, because both those chores are tangent to the kind of cleaning up after oneself one does in a lab setting, and imo that fits with his logic).  I can't see him being very affectionate in public, except under rare circumstances when he might do an arm around the shoulders or a guiding palm to the small of the back.

 And as for structure, I think they all start with the same scaffolding, but in every new universe they get draped slightly differently according to variations in backstory or tone or genre or whatever. Or like, they're already sculpted, but the lighting changes.  I think that as I write, they take on different nuances and acquire more depth, though.  Like it wasn't really until a few chapters in to FTE that I got a fuller picture of the Molly I was writing, even though I had the rough idea of her backstory from pretty much the beginning.  Same with Longer Than the Road, too.  As I come up with details of someone's past, I experience those scenarios and it makes me rethink and fine-tune everything about them in what I've already written, and adds more texture as I keep going.

  satin_doll:  You’ve listed a playlist for “Longer than the Road…” Do you write to music? How much does music inspire your writing? Does every story have a playlist?

 sunken_standard: It's funny, but I don't listen to music nearly as much as I did even 5 years ago.  Not sure why, honestly, maybe something to do with my mental health and overstimulation?  So I don't write to music much anymore.  Not every story has a playlist or songs attached (I don't think any of the FC stuff does, at least not in any significant way), but it seems like my best work is inspired by music in some way.

 FTE didn't really have a soundtrack, but I listened to a lot of the music I had in common with the version of Molly that I was writing—very 90s alternative and pop rock.  Lots of Pulp (which I picked as Molly's favorite band because I think they're Loo's favorite, or one of her favorites).  For the proposal, I had “Dreams” by The Cranberries on a loop as I wrote.  There's just something musically about that song that's full of anticipation and the wavy kind of guitar (I don't know the music terms and it's been so many years since I was into anything instrument-related that I'm not even sure how the sound is made, like a whammy bar or wiggling their fingers on the frets or whatever but anyway) just has this kind of wavering emotion that makes it feel like it's on the cusp of something.  And also it's the big romance song from every coming-of-age thing ever, and so just hearing it is like an auditory shorthand for breathless, adventurous romance, at least for women of a certain age (namely, my age, and I'm only a year younger than Loo/ Molly).  There was another scene—I can't remember what it was without rereading the fic—that I spent like three days listening to nothing but “The Way” by Fastball.  It might have been the thing with the drink testing and then the sex on the sofa and the cake baking.  (As an aside, I just started listening to the song and immediately got hit with a sense memory of night-wet spring air blowing in my window, because that's what the weather was when I was writing to this and it gives me a weird yearning pull in the back of my throat, like nostalgia almost but something else in it. Like, did you ever hear a pop song that taps into some deeper part of the human experience, both musically and lyrically, and you just feel like there's some universal truth in it that's too much to totally grasp?  That's how I feel about both of those songs.  Anyway.)

 Another story that had a few songs attached was Stainless, Captive Bead.  Radiohead's “Creep” was what they were listening to in the tattoo parlor, and a lot of the sex bits were written while listening to Nine Inch Nails' “Closer” (look, if it's set in the 90s and there's fucking in it, I'm going to find a way to relate it to “Closer,” because that song is just dark sex and angst set to synthesizers and a high hat).

 Also, sometimes when I write I listen to ambient noise stuff, cityscapes or rain or whatever fits the tone of the piece and my mood.  I can't listen to anything for too long, though, because I get listener fatigue and I burn out faster.

  satin_doll:  Have you ever considered self-publishing your stories as a book or series of books?

 sunken_standard: I've tried to file off the serial numbers on the Girlfriend series, but it was harder than I thought it would be so I back-burnered it.  I still like to think that one day I will, it's a life goal, but if I put too much pressure on myself I only make it worse and nothing gets done.

  satin_doll:  You seem to have a detailed backstory for every character in your stories, from Janine to Molly’s mother. Do you work these out beforehand or do they just happen in your head as you write?

 sunken_standard: Both?  I kind of touched on it earlier, but I usually have an idea of the backstory, the bones at least, and then as I write it gets richer.  I have multiple headcanons for every character, so I just start off with one of those.  Like I have five different families for Molly, all things I was coming up with when I was writing other stories.  Hell, I've got like five different Uncle Rudys (most of them highly unpleasant and most likely triggering).

I have a habit of just sitting and thinking about a character, like “what would make them this way?” armchair psychoanalysis stuff. And if I can establish a plausible-sounding backstory, I have a better foundation for introducing non-canonical traits or details.  I think that's the downfall of a lot of fic authors—they just write a canon character as they would an OC and expect us to play along without demonstrating any internal logic.  Maybe I'm just picky; there's certainly an element of that, too.

  satin_doll:  How detailed is the story in your mind before you start writing it? Do you work from plans and outlines with every story?

 sunken_standard: It all depends on the story.  Sometimes I have a whole series of detailed scenes just waiting in my head to be written out.  Sometimes I only have one thing and I just keep going.  I say I use an outline, but it's not a proper outline.  More like a collection of notes and bullet points of what I want to happen and what kind of beats I want to hit.  I usually keep it at the bottom of my working document so I don't have to switch to another doc to look at it if I need to.

  satin_doll: Where does a story begin with you? What constitutes the “urge” to write? You once mentioned (in a comment reply I think) that you know the ending of the story first and then write the rest of the story to get there. What do you do when a story goes off track? How do you get it back to the way you planned it, or do you even try to do that?

  sunken_standard: (I don't know why my document formatting went tits-up here, so I'll answer 1 & 2 both here)

 So stories are a visceral kind of thing.  I always have ideas.  Seriously, give me a theme or a title or something and I can spit out a summary and details in as long as it takes to type it out.  But actually crafting prose (can I sound more pompous?) is best likened to the urge to poop.  Classy, right?  I said it was visceral.  Really though, it's that same kind of state of heightened awareness/ arousal (in the strictest medical sense of the word, not sexual arousal), something is happening and if it doesn't things are going to get weird and I'm going to be very uncomfortable for a very long time.  Also, like pooping, if it's not ready, no amount of grunting or straining is going to make it happen, and it might even make it worse in the long run.  As you can tell, I've been very, very constipated for the last year.

 Anyway.

 Stories going off track... a lot of the time I just let it happen because it's taking me to a better place than where I thought it was going to end up.

  satin_doll:  Quote from you: “I spend way too much time thinking about who Molly is as a person. Writing porn and comedy both have their appeal, but I really like sitting down and thinking about what makes any given character tick and how they might feel about what's happening around them. 30s and single has so much baggage to it, even if all the women's magazine articles and whatever-wave-we're-up-to-now feminist thought pieces say it's a myth or a stereotype or whatever. It's a truth we don't want to be true because it's not fair. I mean, it's not the thing that solely defines any woman, but it's there, just like cellulite and brand new and worrying moles and our favorite brand of whatever suddenly being discontinued (or significantly changed) because some marketing person decided it was too 'old.' But anyway, such is life. And I like putting that in fic.”

 Do you write character studies to use as a reference for your stories, or just wing it for each individual piece?

 sunken_standard: The character study is dead, isn't it?  Like, as standalone fic.  Never see them anymore, which is a real pity.  I used to write them (or, well, start them, heh) before I took a break from writing/ fandom, mostly to try to get some of my headcanons down in some kind of usable way.  But I haven't really written a character study (in prose, at least) since 2012 or so.

 So when I write, I keep two documents open—the working copy that's a first-through-final draft and a “notes/ cut bits/ things to work in somehow” document.  In the notes document I usually keep any character details (backstory or how I want them to react to something later, whatever).  There are themes I go back to over and over, like a cluster of traits I reuse in some fashion because I think they fit the character (Mycroft and disordered eating, Molly as a middle child in some fashion, John as the child of alcoholics, etc.), so a lot of that just lives in my head. Any bits of characterization specific to a story go in the notes doc for that story, while any generic thoughts or something that I think I might want to use later gets stuck in another document full of random ideas, snippets of dialogue, jokes, AUs I'll never write, that kind of thing.  I've got a few of those docs from different writing periods.  They're mostly just a way to externalize a thought so I don't lose it; I hardly ever go back to them for anything.

  satin_doll:  What was your first involvement with fanfiction? Where did it all start?

 sunken_standard: I started to answer this in another question; basically, fanfic's been in my wheelhouse in one way or another since I was a kid (Star Trek novels are fanfic, period).  I discovered fanfiction back in the days of eXcite searches and webrings while looking for translations of Inu Yasha manga scans; I stumbled upon an English-language fancomic/ doujinshi called Hero in the 21st Century and it was so well-written, funny and poignant and well-researched I was just drawn in.  I still think about it and the author's other works to this day.  I did pick at the idea of writing myself, sometimes even put down scenes or outlines and did hours of research, but never did the thing.

 And then, in 2008, the stars aligned and I started a thing.  Journey's End spawned a ton of Doctor Who fic, and that was good, because I could just kind of slip mine in there and I probably wouldn't get a lot of criticism or attention.  So I wrote like two chapters without any idea of how it was going to end, and I submitted it to Teaspoon and an Open Mind (which was the Doctor Who fic archive at the time; it was curated/ moderated and where you went when you wanted to read something you knew would be good, or at least conform to certain standards, unlike The Pit [which is still garbage today]).  And I got rejected.  My grammar and spelling were awful (I didn't even have spell-check in whatever program I was using) and they said the whole thing had good bones, but I really needed to work on the English before they'd look at it again.  Getcherself a beta, they suggested, and I think they had a forum where writers and betas could connect.  So I got myself a beta and she stuck with me for like 30 chapters, answering questions and keeping my characterization on-track and basically re-teaching me the rules of written English.  I tried to email her a few years ago to thank her again, but her email bounced back. Her name was Julia and if she sees this, thank you Julia.  You're a wonderful person.

 Anyway, I wrote lots in that fic universe for like 2 months, then got another job and tapered off.  I abandoned it completely after a year.  Life got in the way of a lot of things, and the next time I was really inspired to write anything was a couple years later, for Supernatural.  I only put it on my LJ, never posted to a community or anything, and no one read it.  Literally, I don't think the post got any hits at all and for sure no one commented.  I sometimes think about putting it on AO3 just because.  And then Sherlock happened and here we are.

 satin_doll:  Do you think writing fanfic has hurt or hindered your original work? Why or why not? (that looks like a high school test question - sorry!)

 sunken_standard: Lol @ test question :D

 I'm not really sure, tbh.  On one hand, I only have so much creative energy—it's definitely a finite resource, and a scarce one—and devoting it to fanfic diverts it from any original work.  On the other hand, all writing is practice.  The only way to improve is to keep doing, no matter what it is.  So in that sense, fanfic's certainly helped me to find a comfortable voice and a prose style that works for me.  There are still problems to solve, figuring out the best approach to a scene or story from a technical standpoint (stuff like tense and perspective and all that), so I'm always learning something as I go. Mixed bag, really.

  satin_doll:  What was it about the Sherlock/Molly dynamic that got you started on a piece like “Longer Than the Road…” What did you see there that made you want to explore it in such detail?

 sunken_standard: So I always talk about how Sustain was my come-to-Jesus moment with Sherlock and Molly. Here's something I've never told anybody, not even maybe_amanda (because I was kind of ashamed, but not for the reasons people might think): before ever reading Sustain, I started a story that was Sherlock/ John and Sherlock/ Molly.  I had it roughly outlined and a few pages written, but I just kind of lost the feeling of it and it was starting to get problematic for character motivations, yada yada, so into the scrap heap it went.  It had a passing similarity to Sustain because of a platonic-sex-for-pregnancy element (hence why I never talked about it), but the major difference was that it was going to end up as a kind of polyamorous arrangement, Sherlock loving both of them and having a kind of co-parenting triad.  In mine, John wanted a baby, and Molly wanted her own baby, and Sherlock thought “best of both worlds!” and why do IVF when you can write awkward angst-fucking instead.  But yeah, I never finished it.  

 Anyway, I always saw something there, but I couldn't make it work in a way that was consistent with my own characterization of Sherlock until after Series 2.  Even in Series 1, he looks at her with a kind of fondness and a sort of bewilderment that just lends itself to nerds in love.  At the time (and even now, tbh), I kind of attributed that to BC having a crush on Loo (and oh man do I have theories, which are gossipy and gross and not the kind of thing I usually even bother having opinions about, but have you listened to the S1 commentary and some of the interviews around that time? there's something more there) and that kind of just spilling over onscreen and it working for the editor because it makes BC look sexy.

I mean look, I make no secret of the fact I started off shipping Sherlock with John almost exclusively (though I'd read just about anything), and after S1 aired it was just a different time.  I get really annoyed when people talk shit about the pairing and the people who still ship them, because most of them weren't even in the fandom at the time and didn't have the same experience as the OGs. When Series 1 aired, hardly anyone knew who BC was, and Martin was just the guy from The Office and some other shows that were kind of unremarkable; most of the fandom was composed of old-school ACD Sherlockians and a few stragglers (like me) that got there from Doctor Who or were just general mystery/ thriller fans that got sucked in. We had a different perception of it because we weren't led into it by Star Trek or Hobbits or MCU; the characters didn't have that baggage attached for us.  A lot of us already had a perception of Holmes and Watson as some shade of gay, so it was no great leap to see the very obvious romance (and yes, they all called it that in interviews at the time) onscreen as a romantic one. Martin, when asked, said basically that he'd play the next series (S2) however they wrote it, and if romance was there he'd go down that road.  Whatever, I don't need to defend it because people think what they think anyway.

.

Anyway, getting back to the actual question instead of a million tangents and rants, I think I saw a lot of the things that have since become like backbone tropes of the pairing (even in canon, with the whole “alone, practical about death” thing).  Their interactions in S2 were great; everything hinted at more than what was on-screen.  And I really liked the idea of exploring the dynamic that was pretty much already there, as far as Molly having both a crush and self-respect and Sherlock suddenly having to rely on this person (that he picked because she was reliable to begin with) who's a friend, but also kind of a stranger in the way that a lot of the people we consider friends are (at least, friends made in adulthood; work-friends, church-friends, club-friends, gym-friends).  Past that, I really saw the potential for character growth stemming from their interactions, but not like her humanizing him or whatever; both of them gaining insight about themselves, with the other person (and their relationship) as a vehicle for those realizations.  I think I could have done better on that front, but hindsight blah blah.

  satin_doll:  How familiar were you with the Sherlock Holmes character before the BBC series aired, and what made you want to write about him?

 sunken_standard: So I wasn't very familiar at all.  Just what was in the general cultural lexicon, maybe a few episodes of the Granada series on PBS as a kid, a few of the stories that I just couldn't get into when I tried to read them because I hate Victorian prose (hate it, everything about it, I won't read anything written before 1920 or so because I just hate it [Wilde being the singular exception, but I even get bogged down by him]).  Oh, and the RDJ movie, which wasn't really Sherlock Holmes to me, but just like a Victorian-era action movie.  After S1, I just devoured canon (though, full disclosure, I still haven't read all of it, probably only about 80%), then moved on to other adaptations and canon-era fic and pastiches, read a bunch of extra-canon material on the internet.  So as far as that goes, I'm very much a poseur and newbie in the greater Sherlock Holmes fandom.  At least I did my research?

 Anyway, it really took the modern adaptation and BC's performance to make the character resonate with me.  The aspects he chose to play up—the frustration and impatience and frantic mental energy—just hit a nerve.  He really channeled the “gifted” experience (which I suspect was just a lot of BC himself bleeding through).  Finally I could use a fictional character to bemoan how stupid everyone around me was and sound like a complete asshole and be completely in-character!  The heavens smiled upon me.

 Really though, I was initially attracted to how cerebral it was and how smart the fandom was overall.  It was the early fandom (and I mean early, like days after episode 1 aired) that drew me in, at least to a participatory (vs. consumptive) level.  Lots of very clever, very educated, very queer people having these deep, insightful discussions about everything (sometimes only tangentially related to the show).  When I did start writing, I didn't have to dumb anything down; the challenge was to sound smarter than I actually am.  And, I mean, I got to dredge up a lot of my own emotional baggage from being a perpetual outsider, which is always cathartic (and probably not very healthy, long-term, because it's not resolving anything, just exploiting myself, but that's a can of worms).

  satin_doll:  Are you more drawn to Sherlock or Molly as a character, or both equally? Why?

 sunken_standard: Sherlock, I think, for the reasons described in the last question.

I don't generally identify with female characters in fiction, since my own identification as female is tenuous (and in general they're poorly written and poorly realized, but that's another story). I mean, I can draw from my own experiences as a (mostly) female-shaped person with female socialization, but I have a hard time intuiting feminine and it's harder for me to write a “normal” woman.

Paraphrasing something I read in an interview with another fic author I admire, writing a woman is always a self-portrait, and how much of yourself do you really want to reveal?  Since I don't know how to woman correctly, I'm always afraid I'm going to slip up and hit the wrong beat for what a normal woman is and end up ruining the characterization.  I do manage to channel a lot of my own frustrations with men, relationships, being a single and childless woman over 30, and the patriarchy into Molly's character, though.

 I mean, don't get me wrong, I really love Molly (and always have—I was one of the first to use her as a main character and not just a punching bag or a punchline).  I love her sense of humor and her job and her fashion sense, all of it. She's not one-dimensional.  It's just easier for me to write Sherlock than it is to make decisions about who Molly is.

  satin_doll:  You are “internet famous” for Longer Than the Road (rightfully so!) What about that story do you think is so affecting for fans? How has “Road” influenced subsequent work you’ve done in the Sherlolly ship?

 sunken_standard: You know, I'm really not sure why it seems to resonate with people.  Maybe the homesickness or the exhaustion that comes with impermanence (and I mean, we all feel that on an existential level, everything's always changing and it's faster every year, just existing is like trying to walk in an earthquake).  Or the healing/ recovery aspect of it (I tried to balance both sides, the affected and the caregiver).  Or maybe I just wrote it at the right time (when there wasn't much else out there) and people kept coming back to it because it was familiar.

 As for how it's influenced subsequent work... I'm sure it has, but I don't know how, exactly.  I still think it's the best thing I've ever written and the closest to something literary I'll ever get, so in a way it's an albatross (no one ever wants to be reminded that they already peaked).  I get frustrated when my newer work doesn't live up to the standard I set for myself with it.  That frustration doesn't make me a better writer, it just makes me tired, so everything I do now is paler.

 One thing it did do was cement my characterizations of Sherlock and Molly and the dynamic between them.  I tend to write them a certain way and don't deviate from that, and that all has roots in the push-pull, love-hate thing I established in Longer Than the Road.  I can't write Molly without a degree of contempt for Sherlock and I can't write Sherlock without a degree of shame and contrition in his feelings toward Molly.

  satin_doll:  How does feedback affect what you write? How important is it? Is it more important that a reader “get” the point of the work or just that they like it? What kind of reader do you write for?

 sunken_standard: I try not to let feedback affect my writing.  I mean, I only get positive feedback, really, so it's a high.  I'm not trying to brag or anything; I count myself lucky that I don't get the shit others do (though I honestly think anybody that posts on The Pit is opening themselves up to it because it's a garbage dump, but I've never liked the site, so).  I try not to let it go to my head or anything though.

 I also try not to let it influence the direction my writing takes; I might do a comment fic or write a silly HC or something, but I like to keep my substantial pieces pure, so to speak.  Though sometimes a comment sparks something and a whole other fic grows out of it, so I fail there, I guess.  Sometimes it's a lot of pressure when people say they want to see more of something, or want me to write a kind of specific scenario, so I usually just don't, and then I feel bad about not giving nice people what they want and it starts this whole weird spiral of guilt and obligation and then swinging the other way and getting (internally) belligerent over not owing anybody anything.  I uh, have a complicated relationship with my work being acknowledged in any capacity.

 As for people “getting” it...  I don't know if they really do or not.  Sometimes I get comments and I can tell they're definitely on my wavelength and they picked up on an allusion or a detail or just saw or felt everything in the scene like I did when I was laying it out.  Once in a while I get a comment that has a different interpretation than what I was trying to get across, and that's really cool because it makes me re-examine my own work and see it from a different perspective (which I think makes me stronger for the next thing).  It's really validating when someone “gets” it, but at the same time, I write to entertain other people (as well as myself), so as long as they like it, I feel accomplished.

 It's cliché, but I write for an audience of one. I've tried to write outside my taste and it doesn't end well.  Sometimes I write tropes that aren't my bag (like the Wiggins “the Missus” thing, or kidfic/ pregnancy), but it's kind of like a nod and wink to people who do like it, rather than outright pandering.  At least, that's what I tell myself.  Sometimes you need to try on every bra in your size, even the ones you know you hate, just to make sure you're getting the right one, y'know?

  satin_doll:  Do you think fanfic has changed since you began writing it? If so, how?

 sunken_standard: Yeah, but I don't think it's a good or bad thing. And it depends on where you look and what you consume.  

 In the last like five years, Tumblr's purity culture has shamed a lot of kink back into the closet, I think, and people (in my fandoms, at least) aren't really writing on the edge.  I see darkfic, but it's about as dark as the night sky over Hong Kong.  I think people are afraid to go really dark anymore because they don't want the backlash from a generation fed on a diet of pink princesses and promise rings.  And I think everyone's desire for happy-ending escapism has ratcheted up because the real world is shit and TV shows are all playing Russian roulette with surprise deaths to add drama (thanks, The Walking Dead, for making that element so ubiquitous that the rest of the mainstream picked it up and ran).

On the other hand, I'm not seeing near the amount of badfic as I used to.  It was never as much of a problem on the old platforms and AO3 (compared to The Pit), but there were always some.  I mean, there are still lots of turds out there, but they all seem a bit more polished these days.  As far as the English goes, at least.  Maybe my fandoms are just maturing.

 I think people interact a lot differently now, too. This is going to kind of tie into the next question, but the types of feedback are different now and I think authors have changed what and how they produce to kind of chase the dragon of positive feedback.  Like, when I started, most public archives (read: not just one author's own website with all their fic, like you found in webrings a lot)—both completely open and curated—had some way to submit comments and allowed author replies. There was really no other way to let an author know you liked their work.  I mean, some sites tracked numbers for bookmarking features or hit counts, but those weren't as... active(? I guess), they weren't really participatory for the reader.

 Then AO3 came along and started the kudos thing (which people still bitch about because they think they get fewer comments; like be happy you get anything, ya fuckin' ingrates).  Kudos count became a de facto rating system, thanks to the sort feature. Whenever I start reading for a new fandom, I pick a pairing, pick a rating, and sort by kudos.  Sure, popularity isn't the best way to find good fic, but in any decent-sized fandom you can assume that the stuff on the first page is going to be written to a minimum standard.  Anyway, one of the ways to game the system a bit on kudos is to do a multichapter fic; I've seen works that are like 80+ 200-word chapters (don't get me started on omnibus fic across fandoms).  They aren't the best fic by far, but they pick up kudos every chapter, often from guests that are just people not signed in or on a different device.  I'm not knocking it, exactly, since it front-paged me for more than one fic. Part of me still feels like it's disingenuous, but I also recognize that I should pull the stick out of my ass. Anyway, the kudos count was kind of the death of the one-shot longfic (which, when I wrote Longer Than the Road, was a pretty common format).

And now, it seems like the Tumblr fic culture is writing ficlets (under 1k words) and posting without a beta (and I do it too). Fic consumption has become a social activity.  Reblogs aren't always about one's personal taste, they're a social signal of group affiliation.  If you don't reblog certain things, you're suspect and given a wide berth.  Woe betide the poor fucker that crosses party lines and posts one of the verboten ships.  And I mean, this isn't just one fandom, I've seen complaints about it from all corners—Supernatural, Star Wars, MCU, Steven Universe ffs.  I think when you have predominantly female spaces, you're always going to have an element of Mean Girl culture, y'know?  I'm probably going to get my fingernails pulled out for being misogynistic or some kind of -phobic for saying that.

Whatever.  It's true that a kind of hive-mind develops and all kinds of tropes and HCs get repeated until they become fanon.  I mean, that kind of thing's always happened, but the whole culture of Tumblr forces you to identify yourself and your group affiliation by what fanon you subscribe to, probably because it's harder to find your tribe without dedicated community spaces like LJ had.  With Tumblr, you basically have to trawl tags until you find your echo chamber.

I'm old and I fear change.

Tumblr ain't all bad, though.  It's very collaborative, kind of like the old-school round-robin fic people used to do.  Authors and artists riff off each other and a lot of really cool stuff comes out of these casual collaborations.  And I do like the prompt lists; I remember kinkmemes and prompting communities back on LJ, but it feels more off-the-cuff and spontaneous to just give someone a numbered list and let them roll the dice for you.

You know what else has changed?  We're kind of in a new era of epistolary storytelling with memes and shitposts; stories emerge that aren't prose (though might contain a prose element).  I mean, people did mixed-media epistolary in 2008, but it was a lot harder then (create graphic, hand-code into text piece, hand-code all the italics and bolding and font changes to denote various media types, if you're really a wizard add in-line text links to audio clips to add ambiance).  It's a lot easier to add a new thing on each reblog now, like someone does a video, followed by a 3-panel comic sketch, followed by a ficlet, and then a gif, you get the idea.  I like it; it's just a shame that it's so ephemeral.  Maybe that's part of the charm, though.

  satin_doll:  You’ve talked a bit about your experience with LiveJournal in the “old days”; what other platforms have you used in the past? Which ones did you like best?

 sunken_standard: I went into it a little in another question, but I first posted fic to A Teaspoon and an Open Mind (www.whofic.com).  Honestly, I don't remember much about it.  I'm not sure, but I don't think they had a richtext editor at the time (2008) and I had to hand-code some or all of it.  I vaguely remember having to do HTML for italics and paragraphs.  I know I had to do that on LJ sometimes because the formatting from whatever word processor I was using at the time did some hinky shit sometimes on a copy/paste.

 Next came LiveJournal (and DreamWidth, but I really only used that to back up my old LJ blog).  It wasn't better than Teaspoon, just different.  Teaspoon is niche, only fanfic and only for one fandom (well, one universe of fandoms, really, with all the spin-offs), where LJ was all kinds of stuff under one roof—personal blogs, communities with various intents and levels of participation, fanfic, fanart, gossip blogs, you name it.  I liked the friendslist view thing; it was like proto-Tumblr.  And you could talk to people on the threads; even personal blogs were like a forum.

 I joined AO3 in 2011, after waiting like six months for more invites to open up, but I didn't post anything there until 2012.  I'm really happy with it as a platform for posting fic.  I like the editor and I like the tags, ratings, and sort features.  I never even considered posting to ff.net because I'm a snobby fucker (and they can blow me with their whole “adult content ban” that still continues to be selectively enforced).  Anyway, I preferred having my fic on AO3 before I even left LJ, since I didn't have to split my stories into parts because of character limits.

 And then Tumblr took over and I kind of hate it, since you can't have conversations anymore, it's like leaving passive-aggressive post-its and there's no editing something once it gets reblogged, so typos and bad links and all that are always there.  And even when the original is deleted, the reblog keeps going, which I really hate from a creator's standpoint (though the archivist/ curator part of me likes it because it doesn't get lost in the ether [the recent purge notwithstanding] like so much of the early days of the web did). Tumblr's really bad for posting anything but ficlets and links to fic on other sites.

  satin_doll:  What would your ideal fanfic publishing platform be like?

 sunken_standard: Honestly, AO3 is just about as close to ideal as I can think of.  I just wish you could directly upload images instead of having to do code jiggery-pokery to link to something hosted elsewhere.  I've tried a million times and followed all the tutorials in an attempt to add the cover art to Longer Than the Road (gifted to me by @thecollapseinwonderland), but it just never works.  It shows on the preview, but not on the live version and it's frustrating because I'm computer literate, goddamnit.  Anyway.  And I mean, in an ideal world there would be better ways to find quality fic to my taste, but there's no real way to add a rating system (like 5-stars) independent of kudos without discouraging authors (and I mean the potential for abuse and bullying is just too great).

 Additional reader questions from @ohaine:

 Stylistically, Longer than the road is quite different from the other fics at the top of the AO3 Sherlolly ratings; stream of consciousness at the beginning, and the nested internal thoughts. How much of that was a deliberate departure, and how much was you just channelling the story as it came out of you?

 sunken_standard: At the time I was really influenced by a Sherlock/ John fic (I can't remember the title or author, it was 7 years ago, but I feel bad about forgetting). It was originally on LJ and their journal was a lightish blue color and the font was small (if anybody remembers this... there was something with an EKG and I think something with shooting up blood as a romantic gesture?). It was Sherlock POV and the author had a really unique way of presenting internal monologue. Anyway, at that time there was a lot of experimental writing going on on the slash side of things, it was great. To be perfectly honest, I hadn't read a lot of Sherlolly fic at that time because what did exist (as far as happy-ending/ happy-for-now stories vs like darkfic/ angst) was really, really not to my taste (the exception being Sustain). So it was only deliberate in that—even when I wasn't being experimental—I didn't want to write Harlequin books.

 I wish a story like that would just come out of me. I mean, to a degree it did, but doing the thoughts and sub-thoughts was work. I mean, I've always been a brackets-and-footnotes kind of person because I like reading it, but the way I did the thoughts was more like writing HTML than a regular rambling narrative.

  I think I read recently (maybe on a blog post?) that Riders on the storm was the original inspiration for Longer than the road. Was the scene in the storm your starting point with the story, or where did you begin?

 sunken_standard: That was the first scene I wrote; at that time I had a really nebulous idea of the story. The imagery was really clear in my head, though the very earliest concept took place in the desert—the classic American image of the road going on forever and rusty sands and the heatwaves rising up off the asphalt. I'm not sure how it morphed into North Dakota, I might have seen a picture of lightning over the plains or something.

 So after S2 aired, I just kind of sat and chewed it over for a month before any really strong ideas emerged for a story. I had to find the internal logic for the kind of plot I wanted to write—namely, them on the lam together. Making Sherlock have a breakdown seemed pretty natural at the time; in ACD canon (and many, many pastiches) he was always having them and going off to the country to recuperate. But he was supposed to be dead and he was all over the tabloids, so it's not like he could just move to some sleepy little village and hope no one recognized him.

I thought about sending him to Europe, using the places ACD Holmes went after Reichenbach (and I did start more than one with them in Florence, a few incarnations of which were Molly/ Irene wanklock PWPs, I actually think one of the Rusty Beds stories came from that, but I digress). The only problem with Europe is the language barrier; I thought it was too convenient to make Molly fluent in another language (she might have some conversational Spanish from a holiday or something, but that's it), so I had to make them go somewhere where English was common enough. I also didn't want them too far from the UK; I wanted Sherlock to be able to get on a plane and be back within half a day (I realize this isn't the reality of flying, but deus ex Mycroft, so). So Asia, Australia/ NZ, and even South Africa were out, leaving Canada, the US, or parts of the Caribbean. I didn't want them to by happy, so they didn't go to the Caribbean. Canada's great, but it's too nice and they also don't have deserts. America it was; it also really added some background tension because I think a lot of non-USians have a love-hate with us. Movies are okay, music too, and of course the tech and consumer innovations, but everything else is garbage and we're all just rude, ignorant, obese Yosemite Sams. For someone like Sherlock, I think the US is the last place he'd want to go (even though canon ACD Holmes was really into America). And I mean, write what you know, so that was that sorted.

 Once I got them here I needed them to do something; I wanted to tell a very intimate story, and that would be boring if they were just living in a 2BR cape cod in Jersey. And I mean, what city would really suit Sherlock? Where could he have a life that wasn't London? Anyway, the inside of a car is just about as intimate as two people can get, and the greatest tradition in American literature and film is the road trip, and that was when I knew I had a solid foundation for a story. After that, it just kind of flowed as I planned the route.

  Perfect, not perfect-perfect is a beautiful, brave piece that I think has a real air of authenticity to it. It was a very tough read, purely because of the journey the characters are on, and I wondered how difficult it was for you to write? Was it catharsis or an emotional black hole?

  sunken_standard: You know, I'm not really sure if it was either catharsis or black hole. A lot of the particulars and even the emotional places in that story aren't mine, but an amalgam of some other friends' experiences with polyamory. My own experience with it was pretty shit and pretty unremarkable, but I learned a lot about the human heart and how some people can lie to themselves because they can't let go of their ideals and their identities (I'm also still a little bitter), but that's got nothing to do with the price of tea in China, so moving on.

 Since a lot of those experiences weren't mine, it wasn't raw, so it wasn't very hard on me, personally. I think I wrote it in like three days? I don't think I wanted it to be a slog, so that's why it's in present tense and very sparse and matter-of-fact. Dispassionate, even. There are times when I'm writing really emotional stuff that I'm disconnected from it (which is a fuckin' mercy, because most of the time I'm right there going through it, over and over for days sometimes until I get the scene right and can move on to the next thing), and this was one of those times. I was writing this alongside the Girlfriend series, so there was some overlap there; I'd already done the emotional labor for everything up to Mary's death and I was thinking of different angles of approach for later installments of the series.

The most “me” part of it is near the beginning, writing my way around the bisexual experience from someone else's point of view. I don't have a lot in common with any of the characters; they're a higher social class, urban, products of a more liberal culture, yada yada, but there are some things that are just kind of universal and misunderstood about bisexuals, the stereotypes that we have to contend with and end up internalizing.

Oh, and the perpetual alienation is all me, too. Molly's feelings of being left behind are mine, how I felt every time friendships drifted apart or when female friends got married and then had kids. So a lot of the fatalism and insecurity are me projecting how I would feel or react. I kind of like depressed Molly, more than the perpetual ray of sunshine/ cinnamon roll at least.

 *********

 Many thanks to sunken_standard for taking the time to answer these questions!

 And many thanks and much love to OhAine for all her hard work putting this project together! It’s been fun and enlightening!

Next week, Friday 29th March, it’s the turn of @ellis-hendricks and @geekmama 

[stunudo]

Oh, beauty and brains! Hey eyebrows: when they do the men of the FBI calendar, is it just 12 months of you?

Penelope Garcia

La Reine Noire

Featuring: Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan and the wonderful BAU

A/N: This is my submission to rach copying off of everyone else and making a challenge, challenge! I hope you like it @reidoneshots

I chose #18: The Black Queen s9e12

Can I just say how much I love Penelope? The character depth here and the growth arch shown in the episode was so inspiring. Therefore I left it as is and just picking up at the end. I hope you like my little (crack) addition!

Alright, I took forever to start working on this. I know the extremely more talented @dontshootmespence wrote a piece recently about this. I HAVE NOT READ IT BECAUSE I WANTED TO REMAIN UNINFLUENCED. But guys, c’mon its Nicole; hers will be better than this.

“Sooo, I have a confession to make.” Penelope approached Derek after saying goodbye to the ass-hat Shane.

“Uh-oh.”

“You are not the first guy to call me Baby Girl.”

“Get outta here.”

“It’s true.”

“It better not be that guy.” Morgan threw is thumb at the back of the ambulance.

“Oh, no. uh-huh. Actually it was a different guy.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. How did this pretender to the throne end up stealing my fire?”

“I am going to tell you, but first I am going to explain in explicit, sexually inappropriate detail what a Flarpy Blunderguff is....”

Derek and Penelope entered the SUV while she began explaining with her hands as well as her words. Derek Morgan didn’t know if he really wanted to know after all. The description lasted until they were reunited with the rest of the team for lunch. Derek refused to order anything to eat, despite the entire team insisting he share theirs. Penelope shrugged and dunked her fries in her shake.

“I can’t believe Hotch got you out of that Sexual Harassment Seminar, Pen.” JJ teased.

“I can’t believe they made everyone attend! Back in the old days if someone was being inappropriate they told the guy directly.” Rossi shook his head.

“How many times was that guy you, Dave?” Hotch asked, innocently.

“Never you mind, Aaron.”

Penelope was playing floppy bird on her phone on the jet when Reid approached her. His eyes were big and dewy and it spelled trouble. “Just spill it Boy Wonder.”

“Garcia?” Reid’s voice hitched. “I wanted to apologize for drawing you into the prank war with Morgan. I had no idea you would take the whole thing to heart like you did.”

“That-” Penelope was dumbfounded. “You me- Reid?!” She shrieked. “You called HR on me and Morgan?!”

His over-pronounced lips were struggling to contain their laughter now. Penelope’s mouth was still gaping. “I thought our love was pure and nerdy and then you betray me?!”

“It was not meant to upset you, I swear!” Reid was laughing out right now. “I thought you were more rebellious than that, listening to some bureaucratic fail-safe presentation.”

“Mark my words Spencer Reid, you will rue the day!”

A month later

Reid strolled into the bullpen with his satchel over his shoulder. Everyone had already gathered in the round table room so he rushed upstairs. Penelope was explaining the details of the case as he tried to quietly make his entrance.

“Nice of you to join us, Reid.” Hotch mentioned, annoyed.

“I’m sorry I must have lost power because my alarm didn’t go off.” Reid explained sheepishly.

“Don’t you wear a watch, kid?” Morgan asked, signature eyebrows raised.

“I do,” Spencer glanced down at his wrist, “Uh, the battery must be dead.”

“Ah-hem,” Penelope interrupted. “Moving on...”

The case was a resurgence of a cold case, so the BAU had to decided if it was a copy cat or the original unsub. Spencer took the original files that Garcia had pulled for him and set up at the precinct in Akron. Reading through the files was giving Spencer a headache. His eyes kept slipping on typos and grammatical errors, nearly every ‘than’ was spelled ‘thank’. Every capital ‘I’ was typed as a ‘1′. How did these files stay in this state for this long uncorrected?

Going to clear his head, Spencer stepped away from the evidence boards for a cup of mediocre coffee. Derek was on the phone with Penelope as he scooted into the room the BAU had commandeered.

“Baby Girl, what do you need me to do next?”

“Alright, my deliciously dark James Bond, take the files that Reid has out, the ones labeled with orange post its.” Garcia began. “Now replace them with the ones with the yellow post its from the extra box I sent with you.”

“What’s the difference with the files?” Morgan asked, getting worried.

“Nothing is different in the case files themselves, each set of files has different typos in it. Reid’s speed-reading is going to have a shit fit with the changing letters and numbers.”

“Oh, Mama, remind me never to piss you off.”

“You know better than that Sugar Bear.”

This went on for the entire case, every couple of hours Derek would switch the folders out from behind Reid’s back. As his brain began noticing the changes, his irritation and headache increased. The colors were different, but they couldn’t have changed, they were the same case files. Spencer was questioning everything he had seen on this case, growing paranoid that the ubsub was in the station with him.

“Reid, you look pretty wiped. Do you need to take the afternoon?” Rossi asked concerned.

“I’m fine, if I could just narrow down the unsub’s comfort zone, it would be fine and we could present the profile.”

“Kid, we already presented the profile an hour ago.”

“What?! Where was I?” Reid checked his phone, it was dead.

Hotch approached Reid somberly. “Reid, I know you are off your game today with the clock thing. But ignoring calls and not helping to present the profile is unacceptable.”

“Sorry, Hotch. I guess my phone died too, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know?” Derek had to bite back a laugh. “You heard it here first, folks!”

Reid’s eyes bulged staring at Morgan’s blatantly inappropriately timed joke. Hotch hadn’t moved, watching the genius carefully. Rossi shared a look with JJ and the team cleared the room. 

“Where are you going?” Reid asked flummoxed.

“To catch the unsub.” Hotch said over his shoulder as he followed his agents to the parking lot.

Penelope Garcia was perched like the villain in Inspector Gadget, watching the hilarity of Reid unraveling through her complex hack of the dash-cam footage and security tapes of the precinct in Ohio. She just needed it to be Bring Your Pet to Work Day and she would be calculatingly petting Sergio with each maniacal laugh.

“Baby Girl, work time. I’ll touch base with the next step on the jet.” Morgan, her dutiful henchman checked in.

The BAU got the bad guy, saved the day and everyone stayed safe. On the jet ride home Spencer sat down to play Alex in chess only to find every one of his pawns had been replaced with troll dolls, painted white and black. Their fiery hair colors standing to attention. “What is this?! Morgan, c’mon man that isn’t even that good of a prank.”

Morgan looked at him with ambivalence, “Don’t look at me kid, I didn’t touch your toys.”

Spencer scanned the cabin waiting for a teammate to falter, for a nose to scrunch. He was tired and crabby, but he now had proof someone was messing with him.

“Spencer, it’s fine. They’re still playable, see?” Blake tried to soothe him.

Spencer rolled his eyes, but huffed back into his seat opposite the professor. “It’s not the point.” He muttered under his breath.

Walking off of the elevator back in Quantico, Spencer exhaled a sigh of relief that he had made it home without further incident. He sat at his desk and quickly sorted through the files he needed to read over. As he opened his thin drawer above his lap, a burst of silly string shot out and covered his face and torso. His shrill voice screamed like a child as he tried to force the drawer closed.

His computer monitor turned on and Penelope’s laughing skulls from the remote hack in California mocking him. Her voice boomed through the overhead speakers used in emergencies like the voice of Oz. “Spencer Reid you have received a fraction of the injuries you deserve for your betrayal of Baby Girl and Chocolate Thunder. Leave now and do not speak of it again.”

The office froze until the voice went silent. Everyone trying to stifle their laughs, even closed lipped Hotch. Embarrassed and inspired Spencer chased down his best friend while trying to dust the remaining silly string from his sweater vest.

“JJ, how do you feel about forming an alliance?” Reid asked in all seriousness.

“Spence, this is not an episode of Survivor.” JJ tossed her hair and walked away. “And there is no way I am working against Penelope.”

(I do not own this image and have had too long to remember where I found it)

[anewenfartist]

Writing Critique for the ENF-Sports Contest

Writing Critique

The following are judge comments on the writing submissions (for people who wrote, and agreed they’d like to see the critique on their work from the judges). The critique isn’t meant to reveal what judge placed you in what spot. The comments and submissions will be in no particular order. Judges were not required to provide comments, but they were allowed to if they felt they wanted to share their thoughts with the contestants.

Even if it’s not your entry, I encourage any artists to look at this critique and consider it. Reading critique of someone else’s work could give you good insight what to do with your own art too!

If your stuff isn’t listed here, but you want it to be, let me know. I can edit your stuff in.

There is an exception to the writing comments. IGankMid did a great job of organizing their thoughts, but some tie into other critiques. Sorry if there were writers who didn’t want this public, but this one has to be posted as a whole. So everything from Gank will be here:

sta.sh/015aopok87ht

 princebuffoon.deviantart.com/a…

- The start's nervousness and build up is great with such nice little details and observations as she prepares. As it continues, it's clear word choice is definitely a strong suit of yours, fantastic vocabulary and ability to paint little moments. There are some grammatical errors here and there, though very few, and probably not as noticeable to a reader who isn't scouring it critically. The buildup continues to be great, my heart racing along with the stories character. I'm of course left wondering 'why' she entered of course, but that seems to be less and less important as you're so wrapped up in the events. A fantastic entry!

* * *  A creative and effective combination of the main contest themes. The story is well-paced, managing to keep things constantly moving while still fully explaining the premise, and held together by a view from Six’s internal narrative. A great entry!

kinkyquill.tumblr.com/post/160…

- The grandiose start with the competitors on stage made for a good scene set up. The variety of events and characters allowed for a couple of different angles to be covered.  This has the risk of some parts feeling a bit lacking in depth though. A bit of a more careful eye should also be considered for editing, some errors did seem to slip by. The characters seem a lot of fun, and it seems like a lot of stories could be told with them, as groups or even individually. Interesting risk with the ending, leaving it up to the reader.

 * * * This entry was very on-theme, good job! Since there were so many characters in a relatively short story, there wasn’t much time to get invested them all. I wasn’t previously familiar with any of the characters in the inter-narrative, but their personalities came across quickly through their actions and reactions. I didn’t expect the cliffhanger ending, but it won me over.

anonenffan.deviantart.com/art/…

- The start is a bit slow and stilted, but things pick up with the clever idea of a song from her past inspiring her. The character's personality I feel were well thought out, her want to win and do better fueling herself to push herself in other risky ways. The vocabulary at points feels redundant or too reused. You do a well enough job avoiding grammar and spelling errors. The ENF was on the light side as well at the start, but you do eventually pay off that risk with some true proper conflict and worry.

 * * * This story had one of the simpler settings, which allowed the character and plot to take center stage. The slow build of tension worked well, finishing strongly with an exciting conclusion. The details were well thought-out too, from “Run to Cure the Common Cold” to “Average Jill’s Gym.” Quality writing, as usual from Anon!

ldnnld.deviantart.com/art/Bare…

- A fierce rivalry of events with mischief abound is a good set up. The embarrassment aided upsets were a nice touch. Characters were a bit cliché and lacking much depth, but were still fun to see sabotaging each other. I feel some scenes could have used a bit more focus and descriptions, just to add a bit more zest. Still a fun little story with some classic pranks.

* * * This story had a nice symmetry to it. It was predictable, since you knew that one section would very likely build and reverse on the next, but I still found this structure aesthetically pleasant. The competitive spirit of both characters showed strongly, but I didn’t pick up much else about who they are. There were a few technical mistakes, but they didn’t get too much in the way of the story. (I’d suggest getting someone to proofread next time, though.) 

- ewong247.deviantart.com/art/Ka…

- I found the story to be fun, good use of determination to play to get her to stay so undressed. Your descriptions were good too. The biggest crippling issue with the story though is that you at times seem to really get the wrong word put into some sentences, sometimes to the point where I wasn't sure what it should be. The story would do well from a proof read where the lines are spoken out loud I believe.

 * * * This took a kernel of reality and expanded it into a whole story. Katelyn felt like a real character (although none of the background characters resonated with me particularly). There were a couple of typos (e.g. “ur was useless” instead of “it was useless”, “they naked fighterfeel” instead of I think “the naked fighter fell”?), but overall the story was still well-written.

www.asianfanfics.com/story/vie…

- I like the set up, and felt the girl's dynamic was cute. I think Eunjung gave in a bit quickly to give up her panties though, there could have been more time spent with that, to clarify it being such a big deal. Some of the dialogue feels a little stilted too. Pacing could be stronger as well I feel, but overall the story was fun. The romantic angle was also very sweet. Oh, no points were docked for this, but hosting your story on a site that won't censor it to non members is probably best in the future for contest entries. Don't want to make it tough on judges and readers to get to your content.

 * * * Definitely a cute concept. The sports and ENF are mostly confined to the first half of the story, with the second half being more romance. My main problem was that a lot of the characters’ actions felt somehow hollow to me, not really meshing with the personalities I was seeing in their words and reactions. It might have helped me follow along if the story spent more time to highlight their motivations for all these hijinks. The hijinks themselves were fun though, and the general story structure was solid.

divides.deviantart.com/art/Ane…

- Another entry with a very unique setting, taking full advantage of the openness of the contest! High stakes game that forces players to play along with ridiculous whims is definitely a great concept as well, and it's handled in as fun of a way as the fun that the princess and such seem to have with it. Only thing I feel the story lacked was getting to know a few of the characters better or focusing on some moments more. * * * A lovely take on alien Calvinball! There was a humorous undercurrent throughout the story, with plenty of cute moments from the protagonists. There were a bunch of characters, but each of their personalities came across clearly during the short story. Congrats on a fine ENF sports story!

tyvadi.deviantart.com/art/Goob…

- I would have to say this is one of the more original sports for the contest for sure. I loved the fascination of our main girl as she is so transfixed on her petrified schoolmate. A shame to see it end in such a "To Be Continued" but that's a shame because I do want to read more, and that's a sign of a good stoy for sure. Your grammar and spelling seem to be quite well done. Yet really, it doesn't feel criminally short and unfinished, so probably your greatest flaw.

* * *

This was definitely an unexpected and unique setting, compared to the other entries. Though this judge was completely unfamiliar with slime/petrification, they were integrated in a way that didn’t unduly distract from the main contest themes. The structure and details of the story were well-crafted, and it had plenty of sports and ENF elements.

rrrrrricossssssuave.deviantart…

- The setting of course stands out as pretty original, don't see many stories like this set in ancient Greece! There are few small tense errors or missed spellings, especially as the story goes on. The contrast of the many men around her, some so intimidating as our antagonist, is a strong contrast to our ENF star, which works I think for adding to her sticking out more. Very happy to see her win as well.* * *A very interesting entry! The setting and tone both match with a sort of “ancient legend” feel, which was a different take than most on the contest themes. It made for an effective story! The core structure was simple - a hero overcoming an obstacle - but it’s a classic one! The style made the story very immersive. (I didn’t notice any big English problems, except an occasional strange tense. E.g. “Clyo has never seen a more magnificent temple” was a sudden present tense.)

http://lunagold1.deviantart.com/art/Strip-Basketball-683619069?ga_submit_new=10%3A149619

- The story's biggest problem is that it's a tad straight forward. Events followed by events without much highlighting or focusing on any subjects. The overall premise is a great set up for a story. With a bit more polish and spice added, you'd have a great tale.

* * *

I could see this working well as a script for actors - it’s dialogue-focused and has the main beats for actions. I liked that there was a surprise ending. The spelling/grammar mistakes were somewhat distracting, so I’d really recommend getting a friend to help proofread.

 http://pokemorphomega.deviantart.com/art/contest-Stripshooting-680527642

- The sport is definitely a fun idea. Girls shooting and making other girl's clothes vanishing is fun. A few inconsistencies in terms of personalities and rules I felt. A few grammar mistakes like missing words cause a bit of a delay in understanding a sentence or two. The characterizations feel a bit forced and sudden without much build up too. The tonal difference between cute exposure and death is a bit stark as well.

* * *

The repeated character death really made this story hard to read for me. I had to read it at an emotional distance to get through it at all, which hampered any impact it could have had otherwise. I'm sure there's a target audience for this story, but at least for this judge, the casual killings got in the way of everything else.

 http://jawolfadultishart.deviantart.com/art/Melty-Times-at-the-Pool-Contest-Entry-682799317

It's interesting to know so clearly ahead of time what will happen. Suspense surely does build, wondering when disaster will finally strike. Really enjoying some of the attention to detail you give. Your vocabulary is definitely not a weak point either. There are few grammar hiccups I noticed as I went. Especially thought your description of the suit coming apart was pretty great. A very fun short tale overall.

* * *

A pretty simple ENF story, with a typical setup/reveal/aftermath structure. I couldn’t really get a feel for who Amanda was as a character, apart from a bit at the end when interacting with her friend. I liked the content of the two descriptive paragraphs: the one starting with “Her lungs burned” and the one starting with “The judge raises a hand.” However the first few words weren’t very representative of the paragraphs’ contents, so they would have been easy to accidentally skim over if I weren’t in contest-judging-read-every-word-mode. It might have helped to split them up into two or three paragraphs, to let the reader know which beats are important. (Erotica readers can be impatient, so you have to guide them!)

 http://disc.yourwebapps.com/discussion.cgi?disc=58894;article=58654;title=The%20ASN%20Story%20Board

You have some really good atmosphere to the story, that's for sure. Nice angle part way through as well with using commentary as an alternate way to narrate the story partway through to change it up for a bit. Good job capturing the excitement and action too. The main flaw I'd say is the story could have focused more on some ENF themes. So a bit of a miss with the theme since so many other types of emotions take over the story, and ENF was supposed to be a big deal of course.

* * *

- Cool world-building! Kate has a good character arc over the course of the story, which is the main strength of this entry. (I didn’t connect very much with Maria or the other background characters while reading, but maybe others did.) The sci-fi setting was a cool backdrop for a “dangerous racing” story.

[whigmaleeriewriter]

girl i wanna send everything as a request from the prompt set but i finakly chose one! jimin+13 bc we all know how he draws so beautifully ;; thank you!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE JIMIN+12 NIT THIRTEEN AHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA IM SORRY 

A/N:  hahahahahaha, s’okay mate :D Sorry I took so So sO  so so SO long to complete this but it’s finally here! Also, I kind of made it a bigger art studio :P

#12: You’re a lesser known artist and I’m hanging out at a small art studio in the city and you catch me staring in awe at your work.

Staring is probably the most idioticthing to do right now. But hey. It’s okay if it’s exquisite art. But you can’tdecide which is the true art, the swirling paint on the canvas, or the one thatbrings it into the world.

The exhibition had ended about anhour ago, and you’d left an hour ago, and almost got back home, but came allthe way back because you’d only then remembered about your scarf- which youwere not forsaking at any cost. Once back, you immediately made your way to thereception desk, but alas, no one was to be found. Which meant, according toyou, that you were permitted to peruse.

You had a vague recollection oftaking the scarf off and leaving it on a spindly chair in the hall beforemoving to browse the aisles of artworks and installations, so you directed yourfootsteps to once again follow the arrows towards the audience hall.

That didn’t exactly go as perplanned. You found the hall easily enough, but a way in? Not that easy. Atleast without a key card and an old brass key - judging by the antique lockhanging from the bay doors.

You were battling between the choiceof abandoning your beloved scarf or finding another, sneakier way in when youfirst noticed the faint notes of a melody. Viola, perhaps? No, somethingdeeper, cello? You couldn’t help but quietly seek the melody.

As you sneaked as silently aspossible through the hallways, which were getting narrower and narrower, thesong got a lot louder. A lot louder than the first few strains you’d heard. Andit seemed to be emerging from the wooden closet door at the end of the hallway.

It was not a closet.

Stark overhead lighting immediatelypierced your eyes, but you sure are glad you opened your eyes instead oflooking away. The first thing or things, were the canvases of various sizesstrewn all over the room, and mainly the one on the easel in the centre of itall. It was majorly empty, but the few strokes on it captured your attention.Was it a chameleon? Or a …bird? It was difficult to judge.

The attention was short lived though.You caught motion at the corner of your vision and your glance shifted to the manswaying in front of the canvas. At first you thought he was drunk off his assand then noticed what he was holding. He had a battered palette in one hand anda paintbrush in the other.

He continued to move with the musicand added a few more lines of colour. Of course, the canvas probably only a bitwider than a foot, but with his work, it seemed endless. There didn’t seem tobe a definite sketch. It was all very abstract. Yet you were able to pick out aprimary subject in the mess. That’s all you could understand. What it was hewas painting was all but a mystery.

The man paused dancing for a moment(if one could even call it that) and you finally got a good look at him. Andyou realized you already knew who he was. Park Jimin, Jeon Changhyun’s assistant. He was at the exhibition, welcoming the guests and guiding themthrough the space. He spoke with you for quite a while too. And you had to say, you were quite encorselled. 

Yet he hadn’t  formally introduced himself with the artists themselves,but later on at the luncheon.

He made quite an impression with the crowd. Helooked like a fresh drop of dew among all the aged leaves of artists, andeverybody noticed. They were quick to ask names and ages, but never actuallygot to work and business cards.

That might help later on, but fornow, you assume, he has as much respect in this world as you do. And this wasyour second art gala. Looking at his handiwork, it didn’t make sense, but youknew how much it took to make a name in this industry. To be honest, it’s worsethan film.

You’d been puzzling all of this outin your head for so long, that you didn’t notice that the painting wascompleted. You let out an involuntary gasp, it was a bird. It seemed familiar, but you were no ornithologist.

“Do you like it?” That same honeyedvoice that greeted you at the entrance a few hours ago was directed towards youyet again.

“Uhh, yeah. Yes! I don’t recognizethe bird though.” You’re just hoping he wasn’t too irked at your uninvitedpresence, and threw on your best smile. Not that you needed to force it.

“It’s not specific. But, truly? Whatdo you think it means?” So it’s a test.

You took a slow step forward, andwaited for a response. After receiving a small but sure nod from him, you makeyour way through the mess of supplies and pieces.

At closer observation, the colourslooked altogether different. What you perceived as a deep crimson now appearedpurple. The bird wasn’t placed at the centre, but it still won attentions quiteeasily. A partial cityscape made up the background. The foreground was the birditself, and a mess of what appeared to be wires.

“It’s a nest. Of wires?” Your voicesounded small and uncertain. You really didn’t want to wrongly perceive what hewanted to express. That would be one of the worst insults to an artist.

Fortunately, he smiled.

“It’s wing is stuck. It wants toleave but it’s being stopped, by someone in its home. It wants to leave it allbehind, spread its wings and just fly.  Maybe it’s reached its limit. So it wants anescape. It wants to soar above the oceans until it reaches a place which willnever remind it of what it’s left behind.” Your voice cracked a little at theend. What can you blame though? The artwork had the ability to render peoplespeechless and teary eyed.

“That was beautiful.” His eyes weretrained on you the entire time you spoke. He seemed genuinely grateful. “Thankyou.”

A sigh of relief coursed through you.You passed the test set forth by this striking man you met only today. Why didit feel like such a victory?  “I got itright? I was afraid I’d accidentally insult you, or something.”

“No, no.” His moved smile shiftedinto one of ambiguous origin. He’s “There’s no right or wrong to it.  Art is art. What it means to you can beentirely different to someone else. Or the same. You were quite close to myprimary proposition, though.”

“Oh? Might I ask what it is thatmesmeric mind was brewing?”  You didn’tknow what made you say that. You didn’t know if it was the atmosphere – themessy studio, the music continuing to play, his faint cologne – or simply thelook he was giving you, leaning on the table behind him, arms folded across hischest. Whatever it was, you were sure you were stepping way out of line withthe smirk and the question asked with a finger to your lip.

With a push and a step, he wasstanding right beside you.

“Rather than something holding it back, it’skeeping itself there. It has responsibilities it cannot abandon. It’s stayinghalfway in both worlds; to fulfil its duties while keeping its goal in sight.  Let’s put it this way, it’s scared of whatwill happen when it finally leaves the realm of comfort. It stays,contemplating the risks and rewards of making its place in the world. Maybeit’ll stay small and hidden forever - a shadow. Or it’ll finally spread itswings and carve an eternal mark on the world.”

“Now that, was beautiful.” You tentatively reached to clasp his hand inyours, which caused him to lift his downturned head. You could see yourreflection in his eyes and so much more.He was ready to spread his wings and soar. “You can do it. You’ll hurt yourself at some point. But you’ll remainetched deeply in everyone, Jimin. I only met you today, but I know you can and will rise. Don’t be scared.”

He squeezed your palm once and let itgo. “And you too. You’ll find a life far from whatever you want to escape.” Hecautiously ran a hand through his hair, “And I would certainly love to be apart of it.”

“I’d certainly love that too.”

The scarf was left forsaken.

+ Ahhhhh! I actually posted something after a million years. lolololol. I really hope you like it Unna~ And I apologize for making it sound very formal(ish?). It’s probs because I’ve been reading science reports for so long ;_:  +

 +I might continue artist!Jimin as drabbles :D +

+Forgive any grammatical/spelling errors, I didn’t proof read and I don’t have a beta reader :/ +

+ Jeon Changhyun is a real sculptor!  This video talks about his most famous work at around 2:03 - x  The gallery in the fic was kinda based off this one :P  +